I know the number of ‘it’s is grating on the nerves, lol. And the amount of sentences starting with propositions. Ooops, I just did it again. Well, bear with me, the fun part’s coming soon! You will have to wait though, for I am with limited time and brainpower to keep doing this.
It grudgingly holstered the alien cannon, slowly getting to it’s feet. It lumbered labouriously towards Manuel. When it spoke, it was with visible difficulty, needing to puff heavily to speak. “Hmph. So there is truth to the legends.” It’s gaze spread past Manuel and into the golden City. In spite of itself, it’s jaw slowly dropped open in awe, as it took in the beauty. The city glowed with golden light, several tall, golden structures with open aired windows, radiating white heat that put several stars the visitor knew to shame. The red, infernal heat that pumped through the visitor’s veins, capable of melting most known materials in space by touch, felt like ice here. It was taking it’s limit to remain conscious. The gravity level of this City was unbelievable. The visitor had always been proud of the powerful nature of it’s race. Females were capable of lifting almost 5 tonnes, and males could lift threefold that amount. A veteran soldier of legendary fame such as itself had obtained; through training, enhancements, and other means – enough power to lift over 20 tonnes over it’s shoulders, a feat that was second to none within it’s kind. And yet, in this City, it staggered, shuddering under it’s own weight, magnified exponentially, the gravity threatening to pin it directly to the ground. It peered at it’s feet, half-expecting the ground around it to be spider-webbed with cracks, but the golden, glassy marble remained flawless. The air, was dense. It was so dense that even exhaling was difficult for the visitor. It could hold it’s breath for hours, not needing to draw the purplish vapour from it’s own environment. Still, it needed to exhale to speak in this current moment. The crushing pressure was making it difficult to push air out of it’s lungs every time it opened it’s mouth to speak. It’s red, leathery cloak flowed behind it’s back, moving different with a sluggishness in the heavy air as if underwater. The visitor couldn’t help but envy the way Manuel in his part, moved, completely at home with this immense pressure.
“An entire metropolis of reclusive immortals in an immortal City,” it grunted. “If I hadn’t lain my own eye upon it, I would have scoffed at the very idea.”
Manuel was not distracted. He ignored the veiled complement and went straight to the point; like how his people were highly accustomed to. “I do not believe you are here just to view my City.” he moved between the visitor and the City it was gazing. The single eye shifted down to stare at him. “Only the worthy, or the invited, are welcome to enter within. Your army, assembled at our gates, reeks of hostility. Who are you, and why have you come in such manner?”
The visitor heaved a puff, suspiciously sounding like a snort. “Ah, where have my manners flown to.” It gave a mock bow, shaking slightly as it straightened, heavy strain on it’s reversed-knees, shaped like a grasshopper’s hinds. “I am what you would call a monarch of my people. An – Emperor. You may call me Kr’tk’gol. Or preferably, General, should you choose to acknowledge my other rank. I am leader in all aspects, I possess command over every department.” The General began pacing, his knees were threatening to buckle, from standing at one spot for too long. “Your tale is rather new to me. My latest conquest has led to rumours from my new batch of slaves.” Ah, a militaristic, conqueror race, Manuel deduced. The visitor continued. “Rumours; that spoke of retribution; of me, meeting my match, at the hands of a civilization of Gods!“
Now it was Manuel’s turn to reign in his amusement. He did not believe in the occult, or the divine. The concept of a God was a paradox to him, for he could very well fit in the definition. And yet, what he had heard of Gods involved Gods requiring worship to continue sustaining. Gods that required power from subjects to continue functioning. Gods that have died as their people did. Gods, which were revered as beings of higher levels, seemingly unlimited powers, were somehow depicted as beings that required mutual support from their subjects.
His people was completely self-sustaining. Even his father required nothing from his children. The father only handed out positions of responsibilities, left decisions in the hands of others, like how Manuel is technically negotiating with an enemy General right now – for opportunities for them to experience, and learn. The father could easily, simultaneously, step into those shoes anytime. Those beings that were worshipped as Gods could not have been Gods. Manuel would not be involved in the likes of them. To be referred to as a God was an indirect insult. He chose his words carefully, provoking this warchief would be a hassle. It would disrupt his peace of his routine viewing of the cosmos. He wanted nothing more than to continue viewing the cosmos, but as neither the father nor Lilea the guardian has stepped in, it was his duty, next in line as the City steward, to deal with the visitor. “There are no Gods here. We simply call ourselves People. This metropolis, is our City. There is no need for specific names, for we do not identify ourselves with anything foreign. We do designate ourselves with names. I happen to be called Manuel, the Steward.” His eyes flashed gold, the light spreading momentarily to overlap his blue pupils, and he was all at once, fully clothed in a white robe that reached his wrists and ankles. The edges of the sleeves were ringed with gold. A golden belt wrapped around his waist, a single, featureless gold ring found itself at his right index finger. A simple circlet of gold sat above his brow. A semi-transparent, liquidlike cape that appeared as an endless waterfall that did not reach the ground flowed behind his back. It was his Stewardship garb. He was donning them, making things official. “We see no reason to intervene in the matters of others. We will not move to threaten your position. Be at ease.”