Plans

"This is disappointing."

Ambriosas sits by his throne, unsurprised yet strangely dismayed. Hardly ignoring the cries of his wife who was now stuck in their room. Still sobbing and upset for what he had done earlier. Firing a useless planet ending weapon haphazardly just for show is utter disrespectful as a warrior. Especially without checking for the fate of one of his many adopted children. Children he had been tasked to care for the many working in his palace.

Meant to prove his government truly is with the people, they were taken care to allow them a place amongst his ranks. Both as peace offerings and a ladder to a better life. Many risk their lives to get to such a prestigious offering. Killing and backstabbing each other for the slice of the pie. Though little realise what the title truly meant. As he looks upon the planet, now littered with giant ships and bright smouldering lights, he too feel that the meaning of his empire is diluted from the truth. Perhaps it is best to keep it to himself or the empire crumbles into civil war.

For a planet that deflected one of his most strongest weapons in the fleet, they are doing very terribly. The only thing they brought out was The First Division. One of the weakest teams in the force. They had weapons nine decades too old. All on the verge of retirement and or turned into a bunch of useless metal pieces that never saw the glorious night of day. The soldiers were all amateurs, barely having any experience from the tough training boot camp. Still somewhat rowdy and overeager for battle. Overreaching the plans his supervisors had planned for the fate of the planet. Was he asking too much from them?

Nevertheless, he could tell the fight is not easy. He is hearing stories from his commanders in the field of the pushback he had been receiving on multiple continents. Creatures with the ability to manipulate the matter around them. Creatures with the talent of intellect. Creating powerful machines, coordinating plans and finding backdoors regarding their existence and abilities as beings of the galaxy. A double-edged sword. Though he is starting to find it unacceptable at how are lacking in many areas that they had trained multiple times before.

"Sir. Teams 214, 7D9 and 578 are being pushed back on the lands of Oflip, China, United States and the United Kingdom respectively. Half of the teams had been incapacitated or killed. They are asking for immediate reinforcements."

A creature with four hands looks towards the king. His jaw overhang with thick invisible ribs, surrounding his head like an exoskeleton. His face looked dazed. Unassumingly blind from his actions but seemingly determined in his drive with eyes that stared in one direction. Ignoring the large cloak that covered from the top to his short legs and feet. Hiding his rather furry skin and well built body. At the top of his game. The century old loyal predator. Wighelm.

"Send part of the army pushing from what they claim is Eurasia into Oflip and from what they claim is the English Channel. Push towards the north! Their soldiers have yet to muster their forces. They must have assumed our forces have similar physical disabilities to their own species."

The King looks at the him with calm vigour, sure of his abilities as the creature nods his head. Sure of his abilities as the leader. Staring back into the screen as he starts to stare with insecurity.

"Perhaps... Although I am starting to become unsure...."

He directs Ambriosas towards the large monitor of his ship. Covering the large viewing point of the planet earth with a dark screen of what seemed like the moon. Impacted from a forceful jump. As the screen move closer to the dark side of the moon however, a distorted shape hides as part of the disguise. It's shape unnaturally strong. Phasing through with ease upon trickery to the eye. A cloak of hidden treachery that plunged with the darkness unlike the other structures they found.

"Have there been any sources related to the existence of this structure?"

He looks back at Wighelm, hopeful for answers despite the tight situation. But as he grovelled back at him, he could immediately sense the hopelessness in the situation at hand.

"Nothing that I can find. Much digging has left little to no answers. Not even the masterful AI, Manou had found any leads."

He looks at the subject with infuriation. Annoyed at how deep the iceberg gets. Their pride and joy of the ship, an expensive endeavour that could hardly dig efficiently and instantaneously unlike the conquests he and his ancestors had gone through with.

"Should we bring a force there to investigate? They may plot to drive us from behind."

Wighelm looks towards Ambriosas, watching his twitching sword by his throne, right at the palm of his hand. Filled to the brim with overeager bloodlust. Restraint only by his disappointing overextension of his power earlier. Slightly embarrassed with grief upon his loyal warriors. Wighelm looks around, watching as creatures of similar status stared back at him, unsure of his orders. Different in physique with different backgrounds. All united under one banner. Though as he laid back, he wonders if further bloodshed will burn the empire down.

"Sure. Gather that machine and our finest men available. I will be heading down there myself."

As he said that, many of the creatures jump from their seats. Horrified at his request.

"Are you serious? You are our leader! If you die, how will the empire survive? It can't stay in one piece without their king!"

They stared at him, worried at his request. Wighelm could tell they were at their wits end. Scared if their answers were to infuriate him. Perhaps they weren't wrong. After all, his previous experiences with his deceased father had been truly unpleasant. He looked upon his palm, still scarred from the training he had. Far too painful to think and remember.

"I'm sorry, but I'm a little more stubborn that my father. Remember why I decided on this endeavour. Besides, I would receive said mistake if I'm really wrong."

He grabs his sword up, gazing upon his the reflections of his cold sword. Scribbled with the initials of his name. Proclaiming of it's heritage that it recorded for over 30 years in blood. Alive and thinking, he could sense the shiny metal glimmer across. Reflecting the insecure creatures in the room. All depending on him. He turns back to face his informants. Still uneasy and unconvinced. Though they seemed eager to continue fighting. Unfazed like his forefathers.

"My machine may have the greatest stealth technology but I can't be sure what they had set up. Wighelm, can you help me on this?"

He turns to Wighelm, stepping away from his throne as Wighelm looks up at him, bowing before the king. Wighelm solemnly hid under his breath, unsure why he even decided on working for him. But as an Taiboxian, creatures which witnessed so much treachery, he couldn't find anyone he knew as truly honourable as him.

"At your service."

He leaves in a hurry, watching his every step as soldiers began to escort him. His personal army of seven in sleeves of red. All unafraid in their suicidal investigation. Individuals even the King is scared for unlike his trusty artificial interpreter.

"I'll be back."