The black suit, crafted from Adamantine scales, clung to her like a second skin, accentuating her gorgeous curves in a way that he found utterly captivating. He couldn't tear his eyes away, his admiration bordering on obsession. Elle, initially amused by how much he stared, began to feel a growing sense of vulnerability under his prolonged scrutiny. He was staring to much.
"Your jacket." She said.
"What?"
"Give it to me." She commanded. He took it off and with a swift motion, she confiscated it, draping it over her form to conceal herself from his ardent gaze. She didn't dislike that gaze of his, but it was better saving it for their intimacy.
The doors of the elevator opened. Lucian looked sad, his embers of passion almost completely extinct. He dedicated another glance at Elle, his own jacket hiding her perfect body now, the fantastic view he had been enjoying until a few minutes ago, gone.
"For the record... That suit looks amazing on you," he pointed out.
"I know," She replied. "They jacket makes it better. Thank you. You're the best boyfriend."
"Yeah…" He let out, smiling. She looked cute in that oversized jacket.
"Greetings, lord Lucian, miss Elle. I am Alessia, one of the lead maids." The beautiful lead maid bowed graciously, and the ones behind her, what could be described as a group of super models, followed suit. "The monarchs are waiting. Follow me, please."
"Greetings. Lead the way." Elle replied.
"Right this way, then." Alessia gestured towards the grand hallway with a graceful wave of her delicate hand.
Her companions created circular formation around the couple and then all followed Alessia between the hallways. They passed some check points where the royal guard made sure no weapons went through. Finally, they reached the massive doors of the throne room. As the doors swung open, Lucian and Elle stepped into a breathtaking space.
The throne room was a marvel of architecture, fusing ancient grandeur with futuristic elegance. Sunlight streamed through arched windows, illuminating the intricate mosaics that adorned the walls. At the far end of the room, upon raised platforms, sat King Soren and Queen Anya. Towering behind them were colossal statues of two warriors, their spears crossing in a permanent clash above the monarchs' heads.
Soren rose as they approached, his steel-gray eyes fixed on Lucian. "You have failed the Praetorians, Lucian!" he boomed, his voice echoing through the vast chamber. "You have fallen! You succumbed to the weakness in your DNA! Unacceptable!"
Elle instinctively reached for Lucian's hand, her fingers tightening around his. The intensity of Soren's accusation made her heart pound.
"Soren, dear," Anya chided, soft but firm. "You've frightened her. That wasn't very kind of you."
Soren's stern expression softened, replaced by a warm, almost apologetic smile. "My apologies," he said. "Welcome. Both of you, welcome to our kingdom."
Anya rose, her scarlet hair catching the light like a fiery halo. "It's nice to see you again, Lucian. And this is?" She asked.
"Princess Elle Devereux, majesty," Lucian replied. "It's an honor for us to be in your presence."
"Lucian, Elle. We are so happy you two found each other." Her green-blue eyes glowed faintly with purple power as her radiant smile inspired happiness in their hearts. "Do you remember what you said, Lucian?"
"I do," Lucian chuckled.
"How does it feel to be weak, dependent, erratic, a failure?" Soren teased.
Lucian sighed. "As long as she's with me, I don't care if I am or not, those things."
Elle felt the color painting her cheeks.
"Come closer, take a seat," Anya said. "You have to tell us how it happened."
As they approached, the events of thousands of years ago rushed back to Lucian's mind, as vivid as if they were unfolding right before his eyes…
"Soren? Why did you do this?" He, in their past, repeated.
"His DNA is clearly flawed," Deimos replied. "There's no reason. Praetorians aren't supposed to love like humans do."
"What happened to her, then?" A young Lucian of just thirty years had asked.
"His flawed DNA must have compelled him to force her. She must have resisted. I'm afraid the worst has happened to her," Deimos said. "Don't think too much about it. The past can't be changed. We must focus on finding Soren. Terminate him. Then we go back with their bodies to study what exactly happened so it never happens again."
"Yes, we must stop him," Lucian agreed. The trail had led them to the planet now looming larger as the Cassandra aligned for atmospheric entry.
The ship descended with a hushed ferocity, touching down in a desolate, craggy expanse, far removed from any sign of civilization. Lucian with senses honed to a razor's edge, was taking no chances. Soren was a master strategist, a formidable warrior, an Overseer, the very apex of the Praetorian ranks. Caution was not merely prudent; it was imperative.
"Deimos, initiate a comprehensive scan," Lucian commanded. "I need absolute stealth. Our presence must remain unnoticed."
Deimos's holographic form flickered into existence, his eyes glowing with analytical intensity. "Scanning... I detect a faint energy signature, approximately three kilometers south. It emanates from a probe, a relic of the Medusa."
Lucian's eyes narrowed, his gaze hardening. "Soren anticipated visitors. He's deployed a vast intelligence network; a surprise assault is now a faint hope at best."
"Indeed," Deimos confirmed, his tone laced with grim admiration. "He did not earn the title of Overseer of the 1st Legion through mere chance."
"Deimos, engage a Quantum jump to the Medusa's coordinates," Lucian ordered, with resolve. "We will bring the battle to him."
"Quantum jump initiated," Deimos responded, the Cassandra shuddering momentarily as it slipped from its terrestrial mooring.
In the blink of an eye, the Cassandra materialized in the void, poised above the Medusa, Soren's vessel. Lucian and Deimos, readied themselves for the inevitable clash.
"Armor integrity at maximum," Deimos reported, his voice a calm, unwavering tone. "Weapon systems online."
Lucian donned his Praetorian helmet, the visor reflecting the cold, distant starlight. "Let us conclude this," he said, his voice a low, guttural growl. "For the Praetorians."
"The ship is there, but he..." A cataclysmic explosion rocked the Cassandra, a gaping wound appearing on the port side of the bridge. "He is here, Lucian!"
"We do not require Deimos's interference, do we?" Soren, clad in his Overseer armor, materialized amidst the chaos, his voice laced with a chilling amusement. He hurled an EMP grenade into the heart of the bridge. The device detonated with a blinding flash, silencing Deimos's presence. Then, with a fluid motion, Soren unleashed a torrent of Quantum energy, his assault coinciding with Lucian's retaliatory barrage.
For hours, the two demigods engaged in a relentless duel, their weapons spitting fire, tearing through the atmosphere. When their ammunition ran dry, they resorted to the raw power of their Tier 4 Keys, their abilities reshaping the very landscape. They soared through the skies, unleashing lightning and thunder, their movements rending mountains and carving valleys. The land groaned in agony; under their titanic struggle, it seemed to cry out, begging them to stop.
Three days they fought, an endless dance of destruction. Then, the first null fields flickered into existence, fleeting moments of mortality, futile attempts to end the relentless combat. They were tireless, invincible, their powers seemingly limitless. The only means of achieving victory was through the null field, to wrest the key from their opponent.
The null field enveloped them, and they grappled in the air. "Seven... six... five..." Each blow was a desperate attempt to inflict damage, to find a weakness in their opponent's defenses. Lucian was the first to seize Soren's key, but his armor, weakened by the relentless combat, shattered across his chest chest and plummeted to the rocky terrain, its wings long since torn away.
The impact was cataclysmic, but their Elixir-infused blood healed their wounds, restoring their energy. The fight, however, was far from over. Soren, with a triumphant grin, raised his hand, displaying Lucian's key.
Lucian laughed, a hollow sound that echoed through the desolate landscape. Soren returned the gesture, his laughter a mirror of Lucian's. Then, with a shared, unspoken understanding, they charged at each other.
"How could you betray us?" Lucian bellowed, a mixture of rage and sorrow. He attempted to overpower Soren, but the Overseer was his equal; every move was a step in a perfect dance of deadly precision.
"Betray you?" Soren countered, a low growl. "I am still fighting the New Gods, but now I choose the terms of my battles since I have something precious to protect."
"You justify the murder of an innocent Aethera with such words?" Lucian unleashed his fury, his disappointment a tangible force, fragments of their shattered armor raining down around them. "Did you say protect?"
"Murder her?" Soren's eyes widened, he was in genuine shock. "I would never harm her, Lucian! Never! She chose to come with me! Do you believe she would have, if I posed a threat?"
"She was young, naive, barely aware of the world," Lucian retorted, his movements gaining the upper hand. Then, a sudden, brutal uppercut, followed by a storm of punches took away his advantage. Lucian's helmet shattered revealing raw pain.
"Cassandra, fire!" Lucian commanded, a desperate plea. The Cassandra unleashed a barrage of railgun fire.
"Medusa, intercept! Protect her!" Soren screamed with terror. His ship absorbed the devastating blows, its bridge taking catastrophic damage.
"Bastard! You—" Soren's words were cut short as Lucian's knife plunged into his throat, almost severing his neck. Soren collapsed, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"What have you done?" A horrified scream echoed through the air. Lucian turned to see Anya, her red hair a fiery halo, piloting a gliding vehicle. She rammed Lucian with the full force of the vehicle, then blinked away, back to Soren, to heal Soren.
Lucian stood, bruised, battered, and shocked.
"You're still alive?" he gasped.
"That's what I was trying to say..." Soren rasped.
"I said, no talking!" Anya scolded. "No words until I'm finished!"
Lucian fell, darkness engulfing his senses. But for some reason, he was smiling.
When they regained consciousness, the battle resumed, an endless cycle of violence and healing.
"Why are you healing him?" Soren protested, his voice laced with exasperation.
"Why are you two idiots fighting?" Anya glared, her eyes flashing with anger. She ceased her healing, leaving them to their own devices. When they awoke, they found themselves bound, imprisoned.
"And that's how my Anya proved to be the woman who I belonged to," Soren said, a warm smile spreading across his face as he recounted the tale for Elle.
"I made the mistake to heal them and leave them free the first time, but not the second. I warned them that I wouldn't untie them unless they behaved," Anya added, with a playful sternness. "Then they spent ten years repairing the damage to both ships. Well deserved, don't you think, Elle?"
"Lucian can be incredibly stubborn, yes," Elle admitted, her gaze softening as she looked at Lucian. "Lucian kidnapping me wasn't exactly a picnic, but the more I reflect on it, the more I'm grateful." She met Lucian's eyes, a playful glint in her own. "I'd likely be a glorified sex doll if he hadn't rescued me."
"It's a matter of the soul," Anya said, her voice taking on a thoughtful tone. "Two beings, separated by time and space, yet inextricably linked. Quantum entanglement. One belongs to the other. And our very universe is fundamentally built upon this principle."
Anya's words hung in the air, a profound truth resonating within Elle. She instinctively leaned against Lucian, seeking the comfort of his presence. Lucian, in turn, reached out to caress her, but hesitated, his fingers hovering just above her skin.
Anya, witnessing this hesitation, let out a playful scoff. "Lucian!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with mock disapproval. "You are not that heartless warrior who came here seeking some misguided justice based on ignorance! You are a man now, a real man, and your origins don't matter! What matters is that you exist for her, regardless of anything!"
Soren, a knowing smile on his face, reached for Anya's hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. He squeezed gently, a silent affirmation of her words.
Elle, blushing at Anya's outburst, put a small distance between herself and Lucian. Lucian, sensing her slight withdrawal, leaned towards her, closing the gap.
Anya, observing this subtle exchange, nodded her approval. "That's better," she said, a warm smile gracing her lips.
The four of them shared a laugh, the tension dissipating like mist in the morning sun.
"So... how did you become the monarchs?" Elle asked, her curiosity piqued. "I know the story everyone tells, but since we're here already... I'd like to hear it from you."
The monarchs invited them to join them for dinner. They moved to the dining room, where the story unfolded.
"After the fall of the New Gods, the remnants of mankind tried to rebuild," Soren began, his voice filled with a somber tone. "Many succeeded, but many others succumbed to corruption and infighting. The Argent Kingdom endured three hundred years of petty wars and bloodshed, a cycle that seemed destined to repeat itself."
"Then, we arrived," Anya continued, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "We were enjoying a quiet vacation, or so we thought."
"A vacation that quickly turned into an intervention," Soren interjected with a hint of steel in his voice. "I saw the corruption, the rot that had taken hold, and I decided to cleanse it. I would have blasted every corrupt leader out of existence, leaving only the innocent children to rebuild. A fresh start, as if those three hundred years never happened."
Elle nodded. "I approve. Efficient."
"Me too," Lucian agreed.
Anya rolled her eyes. "You two are psychopaths," she said, with playful exasperation. "I stopped Soren. I made him see that there were redeemable individuals, people worth saving."
"It delayed a perfect plan," Soren grumbled, but a smile played on his lips.
"But look at the Argent Kingdom now," Lucian remarked. "Powerful, prosperous, its people proud. You've built something truly remarkable."
"You could do the same, Lucian," Soren said, his eyes twinkling. "Your princess deserves no less."
Elle blushed, her cheeks turning a delicate shade of pink.
Suddenly, two young men entered the room, excusing themselves for the interruption. Soren grinned, and Anya's face lit up with maternal affection. Lucian and Elle noticed the striking resemblance. They were a blend of Anya's ethereal beauty and Soren's Praetorian strength.
"How?" Lucian asked with disbelief.
"How do you think?" Soren countered, his grin widening.
Elle's face turned crimson, her grip on Lucian's hand tightening. Lucian's gaze shifted between the young men and Elle, a realization dawning on him. Children. The concept, once a distant impossibility for a Praetorian, was now before them, alive and real. He remembered the whispers about their engineered sterility, a safeguard against any distractions from their purpose. But looking at Elle, at the depth of their bond, he wondered if their connection had somehow transcended those limitations. He would have never considered such a future, a future with children, if he hadn't found Elle.
It was her, and only her, who made the idea a possibility, a desire. He felt a surge of protectiveness, a desire to build a future with her, a future that might include the laughter of children. He met Elle's gaze, the silent question between them had already met its answer.