Chapter Fifty-One: The Arrival

The first sign of the alien threat came in the form of a fiery streak across the night sky. The impact shook the remains of London, and a plume of smoke rose from the ruins of Battersea Power Station. Echo's comms network buzzed with frantic reports as the Vanguard scrambled to respond.

Arthur and the team arrived at the scene within hours, the once-iconic structure now a jagged silhouette against the burning wreckage.

"What are we looking at?" Firebrand asked, his flames illuminating the twisted remains of a boarding torpedo embedded in the ground.

Fantasia stepped forward, her glowing eyes narrowing as she examined the wreckage. "Inphel," she said, her voice grim.

"The what?" Christopher asked, lighting a cigarette as he scanned the destruction.

Fantasia turned to the group, her expression dark. "A race of alien conquerors. They reproduce with genetic memory—every new generation is born with the knowledge of those that came before. But there's a reason they roam the galaxy in endless subjugation fleets."

The first of the Inphel emerged from the wreckage, their toad-like forms grotesque in the flickering firelight. Their skin was mottled with shades of green and brown, their wide mouths lined with jagged teeth. Each wore an ornate codpiece, its elegance and opulence denoting rank.

The largest among them, his codpiece encrusted with glowing jewels, stepped forward and croaked in a guttural language.

"What's he saying?" Shadowleaf asked, her bow drawn.

Fantasia activated a translation device, her face tightening as the alien's words became clear. "He's calling this a fertile world, ripe for harvest. He says the fleet will follow."

Arthur raised Excalibur, his voice steady. "Not if we stop them here."

As the team engaged the alien scouts in battle, Fantasia shared what she knew of the Inphel's dark practises.

"They have no females of their own," she said, her voice low and urgent as she relayed the information through the comms. "Their biology is incompatible with any known species, so they've developed a horrific solution."

Christopher's voice crackled over the line. "Define 'horrific.'"

Fantasia's tone darkened. "They capture women—any species—and use them as incubators for their offspring. Inphel breeding rooms are nightmares of medical horror. The women are dissected while their eggs are harvested. The eggs are fertilised and grown in tubes, where the developing Inphel are fed the remains of their mothers."

A stunned silence followed her words, broken only by the sound of combat in the background.

"That's..." Lumina began, her voice trembling.

"Monstrous," Arthur finished, his tone resolute.

The battle at Battersea was brutal. The Inphel scouts moved with surprising speed despite their grotesque forms, their weapons emitting bursts of energy that cut through steel and stone.

Firebrand's flames roared as he engaged one of the aliens, his anger fuelling his attacks. "These things need to be wiped out—every last one of them."

Shadowleaf darted through the shadows, her arrows finding weak points in the Inphel's armour. "If this is just a scouting party, what's the main fleet going to look like?"

"We won't let it come to that," Arthur said, cutting down an alien soldier with a decisive swing of Excalibur.

Fantasia worked frantically to disable the torpedo's remaining systems, her hands a blur as she accessed its data banks.

"They've already sent a signal," she said, her voice tight. "The fleet knows we're here."

After the battle, the team regrouped in Camelot's war room. Fantasia projected a hologram of the Inphel fleet, the massive ships dwarfing anything Earth could muster.

"They'll be here in months," she said. "Maybe weeks."

Arthur's expression was grim but resolute. "Then we will prepare. This kingdom will not fall to them."

Firebrand leaned against the table, his flames still flickering. "This isn't just a war. It's survival. They're not here to conquer—they're here to consume."

Fantasia nodded, her voice heavy with the weight of her knowledge. "They won't stop until this world is stripped of its resources and its people. If we fail, humanity will cease to exist as we know it."

Arthur addressed the growing council of the New United Kingdom, his voice echoing through Camelot's great hall.

"We face a threat unlike any in our history," he began. "The Inphel seek to turn this world into a graveyard, its people into nothing more than fodder for their twisted machines. But we will not bow. We will not break. We will stand united, and we will fight."

The room erupted into applause, the determination of the people matched only by the grim reality of the task ahead.

As the council adjourned, Alora approached Arthur with Elusona in her arms. The baby cooed softly, her fae guardians flitting around her crib.

"She's our future," Alora said quietly. "And we'll fight for her."

Arthur nodded, his gaze steady. "For her. For all of them."