Queen of the Void

The world had become a battlefield. Smoke choked the sky, and the ground was a graveyard of shattered steel and scorched bodies. Neil sprinted through the rubble-strewn streets, boots pounding over ash and blood. Behind him, another Darvok crashed to the earth with a guttural roar, its twisted limbs spasming before going still.

"Two more incoming!" Sira's voice crackled in his comms, sharp and breathless. She ducked under a collapsing skybridge, blades slick with alien ichor.

Neil twisted around just in time to see Kael standing atop the slumped carcass of a Darvok brute, its black armor cracked by brute force alone. Smoke curled around Kael's shoulders like a cloak, his fists clenched and jaw set.

Damn, Neil thought, eyes wide with both awe and a tinge of disbelief. The man's a monster even without his Awakened form. What the hell was he before this? A war god?

Rivan stumbled beside them, his usually calm voice fraying. "My energy's draining faster... this new glow—it's burning me from the inside."

Neil caught his breath, eyes narrowing. "It's not just a glow. You've entered your Awakened state. You need to control it or it'll consume you."

Rivan gritted his teeth, clutching his side as sparks flickered off his bowstring. "Then why does it feel like I'm being torn apart?"

Neil stepped closer, his own sword humming in his hand—a deep red glow now, pulsing steadily. "Because you're not fully Awakened yet. I went through it too. When my form first unlocked, I thought I'd burn out within minutes. Everything felt too fast, too loud... like my blood was trying to outrun my body."

Rivan looked down at his weapon. The bow had changed. Once golden and sleek, it now pulsed with a crimson aura laced with threads of gold. His arrows shimmered the same way—unstable, flickering.

"It's unstable because you're caught between forms," Neil explained. "The red energy means you're Awakened. The gold is residue from your base state. You're still tethered to your original form. Until you let go, your energy will bleed from both."

"Let go?" Rivan muttered. "Of what?"

"Fear. Doubt. Control." Neil lifted his blade, now solid crimson with crackling edges—no trace of its previous electric blue. "The power only stabilizes when you surrender to it. Accept it fully. Let it shape you."

Rivan's gaze flicked to the tip of Neil's blade. "You had an electric blue sword before. Now it's red. That means…?"

"I'm fully unlocked. The red isn't just power—it's resonance. It means the form has accepted me as much as I've accepted it."

Rivan glanced down at his bow again, the flickering glow of red and gold dancing in his reflection. "So I'm halfway between…"

"Exactly," Neil said. "Half-Awakened means you're powerful—but dangerously inefficient. That dual energy drain will eat you alive in a real fight."

Sira stepped up beside them, arms folded. "Then we better find a way to push him the rest of the way through. We don't have the luxury of slow evolution anymore."

Rivan clenched his jaw, staring out at the rising smoke beyond the ruins. "Then I'll do it. Whatever it takes."

Neil gave a firm nod. "Good. Just remember—this power isn't a gift. It's a challenge. You don't master it. You survive it long enough to become something new."

All around them, silence began to replace the chaos. Not peace—only the hush that follows too much death.

Most of humanity had fallen. Hiding in shadows or buried beneath ruins. Only few Awakened remained across the planet—fighters marked by something beyond fate, holding the line as the last shield of Earth.

In the black heart of space, aboard the Vey'Zorr, the Darvok mothership, the Oracle reclined on a throne-like chair made of living metal. Tendrils from the chair wrapped around her arms like veins. Beside her, Khoraz stood silent, armored like a titan, watching a shifting projection of Earth's surface.

The screen pulsed— "45 Awakened: Active."

Below them, in the ship's stasis vaults, a hiss broke the silence. A capsule's door slid open with a mechanical sigh, and a hooded figure stepped inside. No words. No light. Just purpose.

The door sealed. The capsule launched.

Back on the Oracle's screen, red runes lit up—"STASIS BREACH. UNAUTHORIZED DEPLOYMENT."

The Oracle watched it unfold, eyes glittering. And then she smiled.

"Sister," the Oracle murmured, a slow smile curling on her lips as the capsule vanished into the void.

Khoraz stepped forward from the shadows, his heavy footfalls echoing softly through the obsidian chamber. He walked in a measured line behind her, his eyes locked on the glowing screen. "Why did she leave without me?"

The Oracle didn't turn. Her voice was light, almost amused. "She thinks it's fun."

That smile twisted into something darker—malicious and pleased.

Khoraz's jaw clenched beneath his helm. A pulse of fury vibrated through his armor. "Send me after her. Now."

The Oracle finally looked at him, her gaze ancient and unreadable. Then, with a slow gesture of her elongated fingers, she granted permission.

Khoraz bowed slightly, turned, and strode toward the launch bay. Behind him, ten red-armored elite soldiers followed in silence.

Within moments, his sleek warship tore free from the mothership's underbelly, streaking toward Earth like a crimson spear of vengeance.

Rivan leapt from the crumbling rooftop, his coat billowing like wings. In midair, he nocked two golden-red arrows, his eyes glowing with focused fury. The shots sailed like meteors, striking two Darvok square in the chest. One roared as its armor cracked. The other crumpled, sparks spraying from its wounds.

On the ground below, Sira danced through chaos. Her twin blades sang as they sliced through a Darvok's knees, sending the beast crashing down with a guttural screech. Green ichor sprayed, but she didn't stop—her blades whirled again in a brutal, practiced rhythm.

A few meters away, Kael met a charging Darvok brute head-on. Its massive fist swung forward like a wrecking ball—but Kael caught it with his broadsword, muscles straining as the impact pushed him back half a step.

"Now!" he barked.

Neil dashed in from the flank. His red-glowing sword cleaved through the Darvok's wrist in a clean arc. The severed hand thudded to the ground, and the beast howled, collapsing backward. Kael exhaled sharply and glanced at Neil with a grin. "Good timing."

Sira was still in motion. She cleaved through another Darvok's leg, and just as the creature stumbled, Rivan let another arrow fly. The glowing shaft drilled into its eye—and detonated. A burst of red-gold energy blew the Darvok's skull apart, splattering charred fragments across the shattered road.

Sira barely managed to dodge as the monstrous body collapsed beside her. She rolled, came up in a crouch, breath ragged but steady.

Then—whump.

A metallic capsule screamed down from the clouds and slammed into the ground nearby, cracking the earth and sending out a shockwave that silenced even the dying.

Everyone froze. Weapons raised. Eyes locked on the smoking pod.

Neil took a cautious step forward, heart thudding. What now? he thought, tightening his grip on his sword.

Smoke curled up from the capsule's edges as it hissed, slowly beginning to open.

The capsule split open with a hiss, steam rolling out in thick waves. For a heartbeat, silence ruled—then a figure rose from within.

She didn't step.

She floated.

Seven feet above the scorched ground, the hooded form hovered effortlessly, robes shifting like liquid shadow around her armored frame. Her presence sent a pulse through the air, heavy and unnatural, as if gravity itself bent to her will.

Kael tensed, blade rising instinctively. Sira stepped beside him, breath tight. Rivan's arrow notched without a word.

Neil narrowed his eyes.

The figure lifted one hand, grasped the edge of her hood, and pulled it back.

What emerged defied even the strangest expectations.

She stood at least nine feet tall, her black armor smooth and organic, pulsing faintly like it was alive. Her skin shimmered green beneath the plated suit—sickly and otherworldly. Thin, arched ears curved back from her skull like a bat's, and her eyes—blood-red with bordered irises—locked onto each of them in turn with cold precision.

Then she smiled.

Not with malice. Not even with rage.

With certainty.

Her aura swelled, a black corona crackling with threads of crimson and violet. Power rolled off her like a tide, ancient and absolute.

Neil glanced down—something flickered on the side of the capsule. A mirrored surface, catching his reflection.

Then the letters appeared.

Etched in fire.

Salena. Queen of the Darvok.

His heart thudded once.

And the world suddenly felt smaller.

"She's not a soldier," Neil said quietly, eyes never leaving her. "She's an executioner."

Salena tilted her head. No words. Only the rising hum of her dark energy igniting like a storm behind her back.

In the blink of an eye, she moved.

One moment, Salena hovered at a distance. The next, she was behind Rivan—no sound, no warning, just pure, devastating speed.

Neil and Kael turned instinctively—but Sira was already looking, eyes wide.

Too late.

Salena drove her blackened blade straight through Rivan's back, the tip exploding through his chest with brutal finality. His body jerked, crimson flooding from his mouth as his eyes widened in stunned silence.

There was no time to scream.

His Awakened form flickered—red and gold light dimming—and then vanished altogether. His body collapsed to both knees, trembling as blood pooled beneath him.

Salena slowly pulled her blade free, its surface gleaming with his essence. Without a word, she turned her head—locking eyes with Sira.

Kael froze. His breath hitched.

No... not again.

Neil felt it too. The weight of loss. The silence of power slipping away.

But before Salena could close the gap to Sira, Neil moved.

His red-glowing sword ignited with a sharp hum as he flashed across the rubble-strewn ground, closing the distance in a burst of fury. The air cracked with his speed.

He swung with everything he had.

But Salena saw the glow—the red aura that surrounded him.

Her eyes narrowed.

And she smiled.

She shifted midair, body tilting unnaturally as she dodged to the side, still hovering inches above the ground. Neil's blade carved through nothing but smoke.

She hovered there, observing him with new interest.

"Ah," she whispered for the first time, her voice like velvet wrapped in venom. "You're not like the others."

Neil raised his blade again, jaw clenched.

Salena's grin widened as the black aura around her surged—twisting, alive, hungering.

Neil's eyes narrowed. "Not like the others?"

Salena tilted her head, floating effortlessly in the air as if gravity was beneath her. The black tendrils of her aura licked the space around her like smoke from a cursed flame.

"You burn red," she said, her voice cold and elegant, "a sign of full resonance—Level Two. Mature, but still... incomplete."

Neil gritted his teeth. "And you?"

Salena's lips curled upward.

"My form is black—Level Four." She paused, letting the weight of that number settle in. "You wouldn't understand what that means… but if you were violet—Level Three—I might've considered caution."

Kael's grip tightened on his sword behind Neil. Sira clenched her fists, barely breathing. Rivan's body still knelt in the dirt behind them, lifeless.

Salena's eyes glowed deeper, the red rims of her pupils pulsing.

"But you're not violet," she said with amused disdain. "You're red. And red bleeds just fine."

Neil's aura flared in response, his sword pulsing brighter. He didn't reply.

Salena surged forward—no words this time, only raw speed.

Her black blade met Neil's red one in a blinding clash of sparks. The air shook with the force of their collision. Metal screamed.

Neil grunted as her strikes rained down—each one heavier, faster, precise beyond comprehension. He blocked the next, then the next, but with every hit, his feet slid back across the rubble-strewn ground.

She wasn't just stronger—she was overwhelming.

Then she slammed her shoulder into his chest, driving him back as their locked blades cracked the air with pressure. Neil stumbled, boots grinding against fractured concrete.

Kael watched, fists clenched at his side, eyes narrowed. "She's toying with him. Testing him. That's not even her full power…"

Meanwhile, Sira dropped beside Rivan, sliding to her knees. Blood poured from the wound that pierced through him. His head drooped, barely conscious.

"Stay with me!" she snapped, pressing her hands to the injury, trying to stop the bleeding. Her voice trembled, not with fear—but fury. "You don't get to die now, dammit. Not when we still need you."

Rivan's eyes fluttered. "I... didn't see her… she was…"

"I know," she whispered. "Save your strength. I'll handle the rest."

Back in the center of the battlefield, Neil shouted and swung his blade in a wide arc. Salena ducked low, spinning around him in midair like a shadow unbound by gravity. Her blade carved toward his ribs.

Neil twisted just in time—parrying the strike, but barely. The edge of her weapon kissed his side, sparks flying off his armor. He staggered back.

Salena hovered again, expression unshaken. "Red bleeds. You're already slowing."

Neil exhaled sharply, raising his sword again. "If this is Level Four," he muttered, "then I'll break the scale."