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Above me the vaulted stone ceiling glitters, lit by a jagged petrified river of massive luminescent sapphires which winds the entire length of the cavern. It is a singular sight, a mineral formation of ten-thousand uneven facets, rippling deposits of flawless azure crystal forming a serpentine mockery of flowing water. That spectacle is as nothing, however, next to the banquet laid out before me.
I stand, glittering golden-green in the dim blue light, upon the lip of an escarpment, a geological discontinuity in the granite floor some several meters in height, and look down upon a group of seven bedraggled hominids. Dressed in ragged uniform jumpsuits and sturdy helmets, heavy gloves and heavier boots, they are filthy, wounded, and to my deprived sensibilities utterly beautiful: It has been many hours since I killed something which the universe might actually miss, snuffed the flame of a life which had not already been ruined by Darkseid’s taint.
I think I shall take my time; perhaps these latest victims may teach me something new about this diseased little planet. Though my indefatigable body has already recovered from my most recent trials in magnificent fashion, some recreation is most definitely in order.
These people have not noticed me yet, though I loom above them in glory both majestic and terrible – they are too focused on each-other, tending to their wounds or participating in some petty disagreement. Discarded tools, augers, energy projectors and overbuilt drills lie scattered around their feet.
“I’m telling you” says the largest, a male I believe, with bony protrusions upon his brows and chin, “We need to go back! Even forgetting about the damn sapphires, do you know what they could do with that equipment? If they get the big drills working, let alone the sonic bore -”
The one he is addressing is considerably smaller, their face almost entirely concealed by meticulously groomed masses of hair. They do not seem pleased by his assertions.
“Are ye out of your simple little mind? Go back and do what, exactly? There’s two bloody dozen of them, and we’re not exactly fresh as daisies now are we!”
“Will you two please,” says another, seated with their back against the escarpment and cradling their helmeted head in their hands, “Shut up!”
‘No,’ I hiss, projecting my words into the minds of all present, ‘Please. Continue.’
As one, they jerk in surprise. As one, they look up and see perfect golden terror backlit in sapphire blue.
‘I would like to know more. Two dozen of what? What has caused you all such distress?’
With the barest twitch of my powerful legs, I leap, alighting amongst them with barely a sound. They scramble away from my point of impact, their heavy footwear scraping loudly upon the moist rock. There are exclamations of surprise, of fear, but no answers are forthcoming. Undaunted, I continue.
‘What, for that matter, do you know of the corruption which afflicts this foul little world? What of its fallen soul?’
In three quick strides I grasp the short one by the beard, raise them to meet my crimson gaze and bare my multitudinous reptilian teeth. One of the others, moderate in size, its countenance simian and hairless, hastily retrieves a weapon from the moist and rocky ground.
I am in a good mood; I refuse to let it be ruined by such audacity.
Before they can even raise their pitiful accessory, let alone fire, I flick my effulgent wrist and obliterate them with a lazy arc of crackling cosmic force; The weapon, some manner of gun, explodes in their hands. Their clothing turns to ashes, their flesh to charcoal, their helmet to blackened ceramic shards as they are blown across the floor, bones scattered like dry leaves upon the stone. As the light of their life goes out, the taste of their demise is nothing short of sublime; they have left a hole in the world, and the nihilistic thrill of their passing serves more than adequately to reinvigorate my resolve.
‘What do you know of Darkseid?’
I stand, glittering golden-green in the dim blue light, upon the lip of an escarpment, a geological discontinuity in the granite floor some several meters in height, and look down upon a group of seven bedraggled hominids. Dressed in ragged uniform jumpsuits and sturdy helmets, heavy gloves and heavier boots, they are filthy, wounded, and to my deprived sensibilities utterly beautiful: It has been many hours since I killed something which the universe might actually miss, snuffed the flame of a life which had not already been ruined by Darkseid’s taint.
I think I shall take my time; perhaps these latest victims may teach me something new about this diseased little planet. Though my indefatigable body has already recovered from my most recent trials in magnificent fashion, some recreation is most definitely in order.
These people have not noticed me yet, though I loom above them in glory both majestic and terrible – they are too focused on each-other, tending to their wounds or participating in some petty disagreement. Discarded tools, augers, energy projectors and overbuilt drills lie scattered around their feet.
“I’m telling you” says the largest, a male I believe, with bony protrusions upon his brows and chin, “We need to go back! Even forgetting about the damn sapphires, do you know what they could do with that equipment? If they get the big drills working, let alone the sonic bore -”
The one he is addressing is considerably smaller, their face almost entirely concealed by meticulously groomed masses of hair. They do not seem pleased by his assertions.
“Are ye out of your simple little mind? Go back and do what, exactly? There’s two bloody dozen of them, and we’re not exactly fresh as daisies now are we!”
“Will you two please,” says another, seated with their back against the escarpment and cradling their helmeted head in their hands, “Shut up!”
‘No,’ I hiss, projecting my words into the minds of all present, ‘Please. Continue.’
As one, they jerk in surprise. As one, they look up and see perfect golden terror backlit in sapphire blue.
‘I would like to know more. Two dozen of what? What has caused you all such distress?’
With the barest twitch of my powerful legs, I leap, alighting amongst them with barely a sound. They scramble away from my point of impact, their heavy footwear scraping loudly upon the moist rock. There are exclamations of surprise, of fear, but no answers are forthcoming. Undaunted, I continue.
‘What, for that matter, do you know of the corruption which afflicts this foul little world? What of its fallen soul?’
In three quick strides I grasp the short one by the beard, raise them to meet my crimson gaze and bare my multitudinous reptilian teeth. One of the others, moderate in size, its countenance simian and hairless, hastily retrieves a weapon from the moist and rocky ground.
I am in a good mood; I refuse to let it be ruined by such audacity.
Before they can even raise their pitiful accessory, let alone fire, I flick my effulgent wrist and obliterate them with a lazy arc of crackling cosmic force; The weapon, some manner of gun, explodes in their hands. Their clothing turns to ashes, their flesh to charcoal, their helmet to blackened ceramic shards as they are blown across the floor, bones scattered like dry leaves upon the stone. As the light of their life goes out, the taste of their demise is nothing short of sublime; they have left a hole in the world, and the nihilistic thrill of their passing serves more than adequately to reinvigorate my resolve.
‘What do you know of Darkseid?’