While Rex's crew was busy preparing for their luxury vacation, far beneath the bustling trading station, in the shadowy depths of the underground city now under Emilia's administration, darkness stirred.
The city had transford into a hive of activity over the years, a mixture of legitimate trade and shady dealings. Tonight, however, it wasn't business as usual.
In the dimly lit industrial sector, a group of slavers arrived with their latest haul. A chain of slaves was dragged out of a transport vehicle, their wrists bound with crude energy cuffs.
Among them were several humans, their faces weary and dirtied from days of captivity. The slavers shouted orders, shoving the slaves toward a caged transport while laughing at their plight.
"Hey boss, where did you even get humans?"
one of the slaver rchants asked as he inspected the new arrivals. His scaled hands brushed over a datapad, taking stock of the cargo.
"Humans don't sell well here. Only the nightclubs and the red district might take the females, but even then, they won't fetch much. You'd get more credits hauling scrap."
The slaver leader, a broad-shouldered alien with rough, reptilian features, sneered.
"These ones? They're just fillers. We hit a rchant convoy in the outer sectors. Poor bastards. The whole thing was manned by humans. Isn't that hilarious? It's like they were asking to be taken."
The group burst into laughter, their harsh voices echoing in the dim expanse of the underground sector. The slaves remained silent, their heads bowed, their shoulders trembling as they shuffled into the cage.
"It is funny,"
the rchant officer said, smirking as he walked along the cage's edge, prodding one of the humans with a shock baton.
"Humans are pathetic. They're born to be slaves. Train them for a few weeks, and they'll break. It's in their blood to serve their superiors."
The officer's words were cut short by a sudden, sharp
crack
. A flash of red light zipped through the darkness, striking the officer square in the forehead.
A perfect, smoking hole burned through the center of his skull. His lifeless body swayed for a mont, then collapsed to the ground with a sickening thud. His baton rolled out of his hand, sparking faintly before falling silent.
The slaver leader froze, his reptilian eyes wide with shock.
"W-what the hell?! Everyone take cover!"
He scread, diving to the ground and scrambling beneath the transport vehicle.
His claws scraped against the floor as he wedged himself under the cage that held the slaves, his heart pounding like a drum.
The dimly lit area exploded into chaos. Red laser fire rained down from the shadows, illuminating the dark with deadly precision. Slaver guards shouted in panic, so firing blindly into the darkness, others fleeing for cover.
Their screams echoed in the night, only to be silenced one by one. The sharp crack of gunfire and the occasional hiss of a blade cutting through armor reverberated through the space.
One by one, the slaver guards fell. So collapsed with searing holes in their chests; others were cut down in flashes of crimson light. The slaves, huddled in their cage, watched with wide, fearful eyes as their captors were slaughtered before them.
And then, silence.
The slaver leader lay trembling beneath the transport, his claws gripping the ground as his breathing grew shallow. His mind raced.
(
What was that? Who were they? Pirates? rcenaries?)
He wanted to peek, to see what had happened to his crew, but fear pinned him in place. He squeezed his eyes shut, praying... begging... to whatever gods might be listening.
(
Don't let them find . Please don't let them find ...)
tal footsteps shattered the silence...
The sound was slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. The slaver leader felt his heart climb into his throat, pounding so hard it was almost painful. He dared not move, his body stiff with terror. But the footsteps grew louder and closer, each one a death knell.
Then, the transport shifted slightly. He opened his eyes, realizing with mounting horror that soone or sothing was on the other side. Before he could react, a cold, tallic hand clamped around his ankle.
"No! No, no, no, no! Let go of !"
He scread, kicking wildly as he was dragged out from under the transport like a helpless insect caught in a web.
His claws scraped against the ground, leaving jagged marks as he thrashed and scread.
"Please! Don't kill ! I'll pay you! I'll pay you anything!"
His voice cracked as he pleaded, tears streaming down his scaly face.
But the grip on his ankle didn't waver. A second figure stepped forward and looped a rope around his legs, securing him in place.
The slaver leader was pulled upright and thrown onto the ground in front of them. His eyes widened in sheer terror as he finally got a good look at his attackers.
There were five of them, humanoid figures clad in jet-black armor with crimson accents glowing faintly across their chest plates.
Their helts were angular, smooth, and featureless, save for a single red visor that glowed ominously like the eyes of a predator. Sniper rifles were slung across their backs, sleek and deadly, while curved blades rested at their hips.
Long crimson cloaks hung from their shoulders, the hoods partially obscuring their helts.
They stood still, silent, like specters of death.
The slaver leader whimpered, trying to crawl backward, but one of the figures stepped forward, planting a heavy boot on his chest to pin him down. The weight was crushing, stealing the air from his lungs.
"Who... who are you?"
He gasped, his voice trembling.
The figure standing over him didn't respond. Instead, it raised a hand, its gauntlet glinting faintly in the dim light. A chanical voice cold and devoid of emotion finally broke the silence.
"Designation: Templar. Task: termination of hostile elents. Verdict: guilty."
The slaver's eyes widened. "No! No, wait—!" His protests were silenced as the figure raised its rifle. A flash of red light filled the air, followed by the hiss of energy dissipating.
The remaining guards glanced at each other, their red visors glowing faintly as they surveyed the area. One of them approached the cage of slaves, scanning the frightened faces inside. A quick gesture, and the energy cuffs binding the humans fell away with a faint
clink
.
Another figure stepped forward, its voice slightly distorted but calr than the first.
"The area is secure. Notify Lady Emilia. The operation is complete."
The slaves stared at their rescuers, still unsure whether they were saviors or sothing far worse.
Without another word, the five figures disappeared into the shadows as quickly as they had appeared, their footsteps fading into silence. The slaves, now freed, stood trembling in the dim light, the bodies of their captors lying cold on the floor around them.
Far above, in her administration tower, Emilia received the notification. She leaned back in her chair, her lips curling into a faint smile.
"Good. Send word to the survivors: slavery has no place in my city. Those who try will face judgnt."
She turned to her assistant.
"Prepare for their integration into the workforce. Make sure they're treated properly."
"Yes, Administrator," the assistant replied, bowing before leaving the room.
Emilia stared out of the tower window, her gaze fixed on the glittering lights of the underground city.
Emilia turned her attention to the young woman seated gracefully on the luxurious sofa before her. The woman had an otherworldly beauty that seed almost out of place in the stark, utilitarian surroundings of the underground city.
Her golden hair fell in perfect waves down her back, shimring faintly in the dim light. Her skin was pale, almost translucent, with a softness that seed untouched by the harshness of life below.
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Her figure was voluptuous, curving in ways that would ignite desire in even the most disciplined of n, but it was her eyes that stood out most of all.
Cloudy and gray, her gaze was unfocused, yet they radiated an eerie calm. To those who knew her, they knew that she was blind. Yet her blindness didn't seem to hinder her; if anything, it added an air of mystery and quiet power to her presence.
Standing behind her, to her left, was a female soldier in black armor identical to the templars who had dealt with the slavers. Her posture was rigid, her crimson visor glowing faintly as she stood like an unmoving sentinel.
To Lilla's right, a male templar stood equally still, his imposing helt distinguished by two sharp, wing-like protrusions that jutted out like ears, giving him an almost mythic appearance. Both templars exuded the sa lethal precision as their comrades, their silent presence amplifying the tension in the room.
Emilia leaned back into the sofa opposite Lilla, her crimson dress pooling elegantly around her. She regarded the blind woman carefully, her piercing gaze as sharp as ever.
"I must admit, Lady Lilla,"
she began, her voice smooth yet edged with curiosity.
"Your soldiers, how did you call them? Ah, yes, templars; they're truly remarkable. Effective, disciplined, and so precise. No one would ever believe that all of them are... human."
She let the last word hang in the air, almost as if testing for a reaction.
Lilla's lips curled into a soft smile, one so serene it could calm even the most anxious of hearts.
"Thank you for your kind words, Lady Emilia. My teachers work tirelessly. They dedicate every waking mont to their training, striving to prove themselves worthy of serving our savior."
"And, of course, we owe much of our advancent to Lady Cleo's generosity. Without her assistance, our frail human bodies would be inadequate for the tasks before us."
After saying that, Lilla just kept smiling while staring at Emilia, even though she was blind; it was as if she could see even more than others.
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