He studied the figure’s anatomy with interest. It was almost symmetrical, with three arms sprouting out of a single socket on the understandably large right shoulder, two left arms where one sprouted out of it’s rib cage, two short, stumpy legs, one head. The right arms were thick and heavily modified with all intent to be weapons, Manuel noted with interest, more fascinated at how machine met with alien, with the result somehow ending up as one and the same. The resulting being was rather top-heavy and almost comical, yet the odd shape seemed to make sense as a whole
As it stepped forth, a long, yellow, featureless eye that stretched across it’s relatively small, domelike head, glared Manuel with an intensity he was not accustomed to. The usual sentiment would be something closer to reverence, or fear. Evidently it had just as good vision as Manuel did to be able to lock eyes with him from that distance. The gait, the posture, suggested it was primarily a land-walker. Although with those short legs. It’s anatomy physically practical, just another variety among other races he has seen. Some of his past encounters were completely corporeal, others did not have limbs, simply relying on the powerful faculties of their telekinetic minds. They had unwelcome visitors of all shapes, sizes, from all dimensions and time. Manuel’s people were an omni-temporal race of people. They had a presence in all dimensions, and they could be found in the same place, all the time. Every manner of race that were capable of deep space-travel knew of them, but few have had the audacity to act with aggression, such as what they were experiencing right now.
Manuel contemplated on the nature of his people. Their City was completely capable of self-sustaining, as were the people. They broke the conventional rules of energy, constantly able to create, add, or contribute to something at absolutely no cost. In fact, it came as a surprise when they started noticing this as the visitor count grew, and the Father himself had confirmed the fact. They are bound by limits and rules that I would never dream of having you experience, was basically his message in the single, short transmittance of telepathic energy.
They were also in a state of absolute contentment, not driven by the greed or desire for more, that other races seemed to possess. No desire drove them to accomplish anything else, nothing seemed to have a need for improvements, there was no need for the aggrandizement of knowledge, resources, intelligence. They competed with no one, and they were, in all aspects, perfection incarnate. There was nothing to fix, nothing to improve. It was no surprise that visitors out there would be curious to find out their secret to this perfection. The problem was that there was none. Manuel vaguely knew of such a concept from his studies, but his people never harboured any, not from their own kind, not even to outsiders. If the enemy commander wishes to speak, it was more than welcome here. Manuel gave a quick nod, half-raising an arm in welcome like how he would a visitor at his doorstep.
The figure arched it’s back, unfurling a pair of leathery wings. Fascinating. Manuel’s intellectual nature kicked in, making him ponder on the possibilities that initiated such an evolution. Land-walker, flight, does not require simulated environmental control in the cosmos. No protective suit needed for space travel. The creature’s wings flapped in the vacuum of the space, propelling it forward towards the City. Biological propulsion. Does not act on molecular resistance. Manuel was genuinely interested now. Not many races were unbound to the physical, molecular nature of the common cosmos. This visitor’s wings had no air to catch and create lift, and yet here it was, flying towards him by it’s own power.
It settled in front of Manuel’s balcony, an extension that stretched beyond the walls of the City, overlooking everything outside. By definition, the visitor has not trespassed yet, it had not stepped past the walls, where the natural barriers would kick in and repel any presence that did not belong. It straightened up, almost twice as tall as Manuel. If size was supposed to intimidate, the intimidated party here was ironically the visitor. It scrutinized him cautiously with the single eye, taking in his pale white, naked body. Manuel was, in all respects how you and me would relate similarly to a human male. He was built like an olympic statue, not an ounce of fat on his body, lean muscles rippling. But that was where the similarities ended. True, he had four limbs, two arms, two legs, 5 digits each. He had a human-shaped head, curly blonde hair enveloping two ordinary looking ears, two ordinary looking eyes with blue pupils. In the middle, his irises glowed a warm gold. And then you move past those features and notice that he has no nose. He has no mouth, no ears. Your eyes travel lower down and you note that he probably has a mostly humanoid skeleton, with the right edges at the chin, the collarbones, the shoulders. And then you notice that he has no nipples. No belly button. Nothing at his crotch either. Nothing to indicate any form of sexual reproduction, other than the irrevocable fact that Manuel was a male. And when you take a step back to view him as a whole, you will immediately notice that his torso; albeit powerful and aesthetically muscular – is unnaturally slim. Several internal organs had to either be shrunken, or completely missing, to accommodate that space. More importantly, the torso did not rise and fall to the familiar motion of breathing. Still, by human standards, he was appealing to look at, it suited his otherworldly appearance.
It was a docile, harmless appearance in contrast to the visitor. It took a step towards Manuel, clawed bipedaled feet that looked like inverted tree stumps, clicking against the semi-transparent, glasslike floor of the balcony. It was dressed from the base of it’s neckless, sleek, domelike head, to toe in some form of plated armour, sharp and cruel, just like itself. A lipless mouth curled into a snarl, baring black sharp teeth which in turn partially blotted out an infernal red glow within, meaning to pass off as a smirk. A single nostril flared, snorting out dark, purple smoke. This haughty, authoritative composure was promptly shattered as the visitor stumbled, grunting as it fell onto a knee. It gasped haltingly as it’s right three arms groped at its waist, unfolding a projectile-based weapon of sorts and leveling it at Manuel, even as it collapsed forward, the other two arms on the left catching itself. When it opened it’s mouth to speak, it’s language was sharp, hostile, a guttural series of growls and clicks. “Are you trying to poison me, communist?” was the meaning conveyed. Manuel understood perfectly, his unusual form of cognitive faculties instantly deducing from thin air, working to provide him with the necessary knowledge on communicating with this visitor. He replied, telekinetically inducing a frequency in the air, producing the sounds to replicate the visitor’s language.
“I believe our environment is simply challenging to your biology, visitor. You entered it the moment you stepped onto this platform.” Manuel held his arms up, a submissive gesture. “Take your time. I have determined that your life is not in danger.”