Chapter Fifty-Five: The Siege of Camelot

The sky above Camelot darkened with the shadow of Inphel ships. Smaller, sleeker crafts darted through the air, their energy weapons raining destruction on the newly fortified city.

Arthur stood on the battlements, Excalibur drawn, its radiant light cutting through the gloom. "Hold the line!" he shouted as explosions erupted around him.

Defenders, a mix of Vanguard members and hastily trained civilians, rallied under his command. Firebrand's flames roared as he incinerated alien soldiers scaling the walls, while Shadowleaf's arrows found their marks in the chaos.

"They're focusing their fire on the western gate!" Lumina called, her glow dimming as she worked to heal the wounded.

"Let them come," Swift Angel growled, launching into the air to intercept a cluster of Inphel drones.

Inside Camelot's great hall, Alora cradled Elusona as the baby wailed, her fae guardians glowing fiercely around her. Christopher stood nearby, his expression grim as he lit another cigarette.

"They'll come for her," he said, his voice low. "You know that."

Alora's eyes blazed with determination. "Let them try. I won't let them take her."

A loud crash echoed through the hall as the Inphel breached the inner defences. Soldiers poured in, their grotesque forms silhouetted by the flames of the battle outside.

"Give us the child," one of them croaked, his codpiece gleaming in the firelight.

Alora stepped back, her bow drawn, shadow magic swirling around her. "Over my dead body."

Despite her fierce resistance, the sheer number of Inphel overwhelmed Alora. She fought desperately, her arrows cutting through the alien ranks as her shadow magic lashed out, but the invaders pressed on.

Christopher tried to intervene, his reality-bending powers warping the room into a chaotic blur. "Get out of here, Alora!" he shouted.

"I'm not leaving her!" Alora cried, clutching Elusona tightly.

Before Christopher could act, one of the Inphel soldiers struck him down with a blast of energy. Alora screamed, her shadow magic surging in a last, desperate attempt to protect her daughter.

But it wasn't enough. The Inphel closed in, binding Alora and Elusona in glowing restraints before dragging them to a waiting ship.

The Nightrender was a nightmare of flesh and metal, its corridors pulsing with a sickly green light. Alora struggled against her bonds, her eyes blazing with fury as she was dragged toward the High Matron's chamber.

Elusona whimpered in her arms, her fae guardians weakened but still present, flitting nervously around the pair.

The Inphel soldiers laughed, their guttural voices filled with mockery. "Look at her," one croaked. "A mere woman, throwing her life away for a child."

"She doesn't understand," another said, his codpiece gleaming with jagged emeralds. "They're nothing but resources to us. She'll learn soon enough."

The chamber of the High Matron was a grotesque fusion of organic and mechanical horror. Her immense, bulbous form was entwined with the ship's systems, her translucent skin stretched over pulsing machinery. Tubes and wires extended from her body, feeding the ship with her life force.

Her glowing eyes fixed on Alora as the soldiers forced her to kneel. "So, this is the source of their defiance," the Matron croaked, her voice echoing with both disdain and curiosity.

"She's nothing, High Matron," one of the soldiers said, bowing low. "A woman and a child."

The Matron's lips curled into a grotesque smile. "Nothing? No. She is far more than that."

She leaned forward, the machinery groaning as her massive form shifted. "You protect this child with such ferocity. Why?"

Alora's voice was steady, despite the fear coursing through her. "Because she's my daughter. And because she's worth more than your entire twisted race."

The soldiers erupted in laughter, but the Matron silenced them with a wave of her hand. "Such passion," she said, her tone almost mocking. "Such... futility."

The Matron's eyes narrowed as she studied Elusona, who stared back with glowing, unflinching eyes.

"This child is different," the Matron said, her voice a mix of curiosity and greed. "She is not merely a host. She is a nexus of power—a bridge between worlds."

Alora's heart sank as the Matron continued. "She will serve us well. Her essence will fuel our next generation. And you, her mother, will witness the glory of our rebirth before your usefulness ends."

The soldiers dragged Alora and Elusona away, the Matron's laughter echoing through the chamber.

Back in Camelot, Christopher staggered to his feet, his wounds still fresh. "They took her," he said hoarsely, his hands trembling. "They took both of them."

Arthur's expression hardened, his grip on Excalibur tightening. "Then we will get them back. No matter the cost."

The Vanguard gathered, their faces etched with determination. The battle for Camelot was over, but the war for humanity's survival—and Alora and Elusona's lives—had just begun.