Planet Myridia
For the last three hundred years, the Oracles have ruled Myridia with an iron fist. With the planet’s infrastructure obliterated by Demeter, Myridians barely have any weapons.
While the Oracles lack the myridian power to create duplicates at will, the jewel embedded in their throats grant them considerable telekinetic powers. It’s hard to rebel against someone who can rip your head off just by thinking about it.
An Asian eighteen year old with silver eyes is now leading the latest uprising, which the myridian police has been completely unable to sedate. With dozens of Oracles now reaching the city from all over the planet, she doesn’t waste time taking charge.
<Vesta, Quantum, full frontal assault: they have telekinetic shields, but I’ve seen you power through a meteorite the size of a stadium. Torn, if any Oracle tries to land, disarm him or send him back to Vesta and Quantum. Remove the jewels and they’re harmless; if you can’t get close enough, lethal force is highly recommended.>
<You want us to kill them!?> Vesta protests.
<We just declared a war against an entire planet. If you have time to worry about the safety of a superhuman militia that turned entire cities into concentration camps, be my guest. Kari, follow me.>
Noriko leaves the trio, and the goddess of fire bites her lip nervously.
<This is wrong. I left Olympus because I hate stuff like this.>
<Welcome back to the real world then. CLOAK OF DAGGERS!> Torn shouts, creating enough energy swords in front of himself to be used as a shield; he then run towards the Oracle who’s just landed in the middle of the street, deflecting a telekinetic blast by cutting it in half.
<I have no idea how that’s possible. You okay, Vesta?> Max asks, turning towards the goddess; as he does this, he turns his right hand into pure light to temporarily blind the Oracles.
<I’m not like my brothers and sisters, Max. I’m a pacifist. I don’t know if I can do this.>
<Listen, I don’t like it either, but you heard Kari: these guys murder people for dressing the wrong way or for not having enough kids. We won’t kill anybody unless we absolutely need to, but Myridians have suffered enough. We’ve got powers: it’s time to be heroes.>
Torn is slammed into the ground by the Oracle; two more land beside him, ready to hit the red-skinned man with the walls they are now removing from the buildings.
<Less talking, more hitting!> Torn advises.
Moving faster than the eye can see, Vesta punches one of the Oracles hard enough to send him flying right through the building. Quantum takes care of the other one, melting the streetwalk with a focused microwave blast and making him lose his balance; Torn takes his chance and stabs the Oracle, carefully avoiding any vital organ but causing enough shock to render the Oracle unconscious.
<He’ll live> is all Torn has to say; when the energy sword disappears, the blood it spilled drops to the ground. Vesta clenches her fists: she doesn’t want to do this, but what have two thousand years of watching mortals die accomplished?
<Let’s make this quick> she says, flying towards the Oracles.
Inside Nabric Ges’ skyscraper, Kari Zel is watching the fight through the window. Oracles charging against Quantum’s light form, only to be electrocuted when he converts his mass to electrons. Throwing weapon and objects against Vesta, only to see all of them incinerated. Torn jumping all over the place, using energy swords to scale buildings and shouting things like “stab of the back” when attacking from behind or “mind armor piercing“ when cutting through the telekinetic shields, always removing the jewels in their throats with an energy scalpel.
Kari wonders if he knew he could remove them without killing the Oracles before trying. Every time he removes a jewel, he handles it to one of Kari’s duplicates that run it back to the base.
Below the fight, the myridians are revolting against the state police. Civilians outnumber policemen; when each and every one of them create ten thousand duplicates, the city is positively overcrowded with the largest riot this world has ever seen.
<I can’t believe this; we’re actually winning> Kari wonders out loud.
<Not yet, but I’m working on it> Noriko answers, without looking away from her newest invention.
It’s hard to describe it, since it’s built from salvaged components that the duplicates of Nabric, Kari and dozens of other voluntaries have recovered from all over the city, but the most striking part of it is the five feet wide reflector dish on top.
<That’s, uhm, that’s very…I have no idea what that is.>
<Our winning card. The Vanguard is powerful enough to stall the Oracles, but they can’t protect the whole planet. I want to conquer Myridia, not just Null City.>
<Yeah, about that, when did Deka become Null City? Also, since when do you guys go as “the Vanguard”?>
<In both cases, when I said so. I suppose I should thank you for helping them find me; I saw what you did during the fight. I know every single form of hand-to-hand combat developed on Earth, but I’ve never seen most of your moves. I’m not easily impressed, Kari Zel, but you are a valuable asset.>
<Just Kari, Noriko. This is the most fun I’ve ever had. I mean, y’know, if you don’t count all the people trying to kill me.>
<Tell me about it. And call me Null. How many Oracles are down?>
<Fifteen. And it looks like one of them is moving towards…>
Kari doesn’t end the sentence, interrupted by the Oracle that has just crashed through the wall. He grabs Noriko, wasting no time to exit smashing through the ceiling.
Talas Khanos is furious. He let this miserable planet alone for a few weeks, and now this child is ruining one of the most brilliant social experiments in galactic history.
She can barely hear him through the sound of the crumbling building, until both of them have finished smashing through all of the skyscraper’s floors and are now floating in the air.
Khanos is holding her by the throat: even if they weren’t flying, she wouldn’t touch the ground since he’s seven feet tall and she’s barely above five.
<The girl with the silver eyes. What are you doing on Myridia?>
<Sightseeing> she answers, firing the Genius Gun. Its kinetic blasts bounce off the mental shield of the freakishly tall Oracle; without it, she’s completely at his mercy.
<You think this little riot changes anything? Myridia is the best flesh factory in the galaxy. Demeter will never allow it to rebel. She will burn this city to the ground and breed new humans; and she will expect me to keep it producing new soldiers with maximum efficiency. Myridian soldiers fight wars throughout the entire Olympian Galaxy, you stupid little girl; can you even understand the vision of such an endeavor?>
<I can see what Demeter thinks of humans: animals to be bred and slaughtered at her will. Here’s what I have to say about it.>
Noriko fires the Genius Gun again, but not towards Khanos: she’s aiming for the device, calculating its exact position. She’s right, of course, and the kinetic blast provides the energy required to activate it.
<F##k Demeter.>
The effect is immediate: an immense electromagnetic pulse spreads from the building, invisible to humans but not to Oracles.
They clench their throats, as the jewels shatter into thousands of pieces together with their power and pride. All over the world, dozens of Oracles find themselves plummeting to the ground or fall prey to the attacks of rebelling myridians.
The last thing Talas Khanos can see before losing consciousness is the face of the girl with the silver eyes, while both fall to their deaths from the top of the skyscraper.
<Really shouldn’t have let me enough time to study your technology> she says, pointing at the godstone integrated in the Genius Gun.
Torn catches them in mid air, using an energy sword as a grappling hook, slowing down their fall until they hit the ground. It’s not exactly a perfect save, as Noriko almost passes out from the impact, but at least she’s alive.
<Already over? I was warming up> Torn says.
Noriko catches her breath, checking if Khanos is still alive: he knows enough to prove useful. But that’s not important right now: the sight of policemen surrendering to the rebels, Vesta and Quantum preventing falling Oracles to become blood stains on the concrete, the people dancing in the streets, everything is awe-inspiring. Even for Null.
“We did it! We saved the world!!!” her human side cheers.
“We completed a coup against an alien state police. This is far from over” Null answers.
“Spoilsport. Can’t you at least enjoy the moment!?”
People are chanting her name, praising Null’s might and genius. Enemies are praying for her mercy.
She reached Myridia naked, disarmed and helpless. In less than a week, she conquered the planet.
“I am, Noriko. Believe me, I am”.
Her eyes shine, overseeing the endless possibilities of the galaxy’s largest infantry at her disposal.
Her human side shivers.
Khloe VII, capital world of the Demeter Theocracy
Divine Palace
The planet is almost entirely covered in beautiful gardens, carefully tended by subjects from a hundred worlds of the Theocracy. The Gardeners must be sterilized virgins and they are executed after reaching thirty years of age; they are not allowed to see their families or their homeworld.
The Oracles carry out every other duty, constantly in contact with the many provinces of the realm. They report directly to the Lady-In-Waiting, the highest ranking mortal in the Theocracy who answers directly to the Holy Goddess Demeter.
Anesi Mithrades is the current Lady-In-Waiting, selected for the rank at birth and genetically modified to live much longer than a human. Although she looks slightly above fifty, Anesi is already 137.
On Earth she would be considered of Arabian descent; Demeter prefers her Lady-In-Waiting to be of darker skin than most of her subjects, to be able to recognize her at a glance.
She has changed her mind about this in the past, slaughtering entire breeding planets just because she happened to dislike their appearance.
Anesi enters the Divine Gynaeceum, where Demeter lives most of the time. Surrounded by all kinds of flowers, a bath tub the size of a swimming pool dominates the room.
Dozens of Lampyrians are attending the Goddess: stroking her hair, polishing her nails, massaging her feet, watering the flowers, humming tunes about Her glory.
Demeter can’t recall if she created the Lampyrians or if she just came across this alien species. They look like human females, except for the blue skin; they can be clearly identified as slaves of Demeter because their bat-like wings have been surgically removed from their backs.
<Please excuse my interruption, Your Holiness. I have news from Icaria.>
Demeter lazily invites the Lady-In-Waiting to go on with a casual wave of her hand.
<Hephaestus sterilized it with nuclear fire. Three billion dead and we have lost our stronghold in the sector.>
<Don’t we have more of those? Just have Myridia send a couple billion reserves.>
<That’s the other thing I have to tell you, Your Holiness. We have lost all contact with Myridia.
The goddess looks directly at Anesi, who swallows nervously. She lowers her head when Demeter stands up: the punishment for seeing her naked is disembowelment. The Lampyrians scatter, unable to follow their instinct to fly away like a scared flock. The green-haired goddess inhales sharply.
<Get me a towel and a spaceship> she declares.
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