Any hint of joviality amongst the Elders had evaporated into thin air. A heavy, solemn atmosphere had taken its place. Nobody smiled — not even the faintest of smirks. Currently in an emergency response meeting to the gru’ul’s bloodthirsty arrival, the ever-growing casualty list was displayed before each of them. Everybody gathered knew that it was but the start. Still, the knowledge that they were the cause of such wanton death resulting from their investigations into the research facility weighed heavily on all. --

  Information from Cyrix and Nessah kept them updated real-time during the fight, allowing them to decide how best to respond. Cirrus and Orryn had carefully prepared their proof against Kaius and were originally planning to bring up his activities, but in light of recent events, they knew that it was a poor time to do so. Though they hadn’t spoken about it beforehand, they both tacitly agreed not to say anything during their somber meeting.

  That the only thing separating them from immediate demise was their recent advancements was a sobering thought for everybody.

  In a way, the Elders were all grateful of Adrian’s discovery. It had given them the tools they needed to understand their place in the universe and fight back against their creators. Yet, for all the wonderous technological and cultural advancements, they knew that it was their curiosity to begin with that risked dooming them all.

  “By now the masses are aware that the gru’ul have brought war to our doorstep,” Kaius said gravely, interrupting each Elder’s contemplation on current events. “Though we tried to warn them, I believe they need a reminder as to what the stakes are.”

  “We told them that this needless death was due to the chemical used on Adrian,” Darros pointed out. “We kept the biggest reasons for our recent actions from them so as prevent an uproar. Are you suggesting we tell them the truth now?”

  “No,” Kaius said, shaking his head. “We’ll hold off on that for now and do so when the time is right.”

  “There will never be an appropriate time to tell them,” Orryn interjected. “Today, we fight our gods. Yesterday, we worshipped them. I say that they deserve to know the truth. After all, there’s a chance we won’t survive the onslaught. The gru’ul may decide that blowing up the planet would be the swiftest solution to their problems. A ground invasion may not even happen. If we’re going to die, I say our people understand why.”

  Kaius nodded slowly. “Is that what everybody wants? Once we explain the final piece of the puzzle, there will be no going back.”

  “There’s already no going back,” Cirrus said, speaking up. “It’s us or them. All that stands in the way are our planetary shields and soldiers dying in droves on the front lines. I agree with Orryn. Let the people know why they have to die. Maybe it’ll spark a fire in them, and they’ll listen to us better.”

  Darros sighed. “I find myself in agreement. Our gods didn’t abandon us — we never had any to begin with. There will be pushback, that’s for certain. We may not be the most religious faction, but there are still many who believe.”

  With three Elders putting forward a motion, Kaius called a vote. It passed four to two, with Maraz being the deciding vote. “We will explain the truth to the masses in another coordinated message,” Kaius announced. “So we have voted, and so it shall be.” Everybody nodded, their expressions firm and resolved.

  “There is another issue we need to take care of,” Maraz brought up. “The gru’ul hijacked just about every communications system we have. The only ones spared were those directly controlled by us, likely due to the protections we have in place. What did they mean by their message? Why communicate that with us, specifically?”

  “Perhaps they were announcing that they’ve found our planet and wanted us to wallow in what they believe is our inevitable deaths?” Orryn proposed. It was difficult to understand how the gru’ul thought at the best of times. Attempting to do so now was still nothing but a shot in the dark.

  “I don’t think so,” Maraz said. “I think they came looking for something specifically before they wipe us out.”

  “‘We found you,’” Darros quoted. “You implies a person, but I doubt they meant the a’vaare as a whole. There are only two people of interest to the gru’ul currently on our planet.”

  “You think Adrian and Reya are the reason the gru’ul sent the message?” Orryn asked. “What do they gain from abducting them again?”

  “I think it’s Adrian they’re after,” Darros said. “He was their only true success. I believe they want him so they can finish what they started all those years ago.”

  “But the data at the facility was corrupted!” Cirrus exclaimed. “Already, we barely got anything useful out of their systems.”

  “Do you truly believe there wasn’t some form of backup?” Darros challenged. “My guess is that there is, and we simply didn’t find it. If they took that, then they have all the knowledge we thought they’d scrapped. That includes information on those awful chemicals.”

  Everybody’s face soured at the oversight.

  “If they have access to everything, why bother retrieving Adrian at all?” Maraz asked. “Theoretically, they should be able to replicate the results.”

  “In theory, they know how to replicate the results on a human,” Darros said, “but not themselves. I’d be willing to bet they weren’t able to achieve whatever perfection they were after and believe Adrian is the key to unlocking their true potential.”

  “But what good does having Adrian do?” Maraz insisted. Darros’ theories, while interesting, were nothing more than guesswork based on unreliable information. Maraz couldn’t accept Darros’ answers without something more tangible. “Why not go after Reya as well, since she’s transforming into whatever Adrian has become?”

  “You of all people should know that what works in theory doesn’t always work in practice,” Darros said pointedly. “They did preliminary experiments on Reya to confirm their theories but never knew what happened afterwards. It’s much better to go with the sure answer than comb a planet for somebody that’s most likely dead.”

  Maraz shook his head. “That still doesn’t explain the message. How did they even find Adrian to begin with? We would have noticed any probes they sent to observe us.”

  “Would we really be able to sense their probes?” Darros asked. “We were under surveillance for so long without being aware of it. They were able to abduct our citizens right from under our noses. Probing us should be child’s play for them.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Fine,” Maraz said. “Let’s assume you’re right. How on Verilia did they pinpoint Adrian’s location in the middle of a war?”

  “They can see what he sees,” Orryn said softly, the realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. “Do you think they were able to get a visual feed from Adrian?” The thought worried her immensely. If the gru’ul were able to do so, then Adrian would never be safe.

  “Fuck,” Maraz muttered, running his fingers through his hair. “We need to bring him back to a base to protect him.”

  “Can we even protect him?” Cirrus asked. “If they can see through his eyes, then the gru’ul will be able to determine where he is specifically in whatever compound we bring him to.”

  “We have to try,” Maraz said. “I refuse to allow the gru’ul to succeed with their plans.”

  “That might cost us the lives of our citizens,” Darros said darkly. “Are we willing to sacrifice many people to save one?”

  The reminder gave every Elder pause. They knew they couldn’t afford to spare any soldiers in what was sure to be a very bloody war.

  “If Adrian is protected in a military compound, the gru’ul would have to have breached our planetary shield and directly attacked a base,” Orryn said carefully. “If that happens, we have bigger things to worry about than who lives or dies in the process. If the gru’ul make ground contact, nobody will truly be safe.”

  “Then why bother inviting a guaranteed attack on critical resources?” Darros challenged.

  “Because the gru’ul will strike them regardless,” Orryn replied. “Harboring Adrian would actually be beneficial in those circumstances because it would mean they couldn’t wantonly destroy the base without killing Adrian. His presence might be a deterrent to total destruction.”

  Darros hummed in thought, ultimately finding himself in agreement with the logic. He could only hope the alien monstrosities bent on their demise had the same thought process. “Alright, we’ll protect him,” he said. “We need to act now if we want to ensure his safety. While we’re at it, we’ll bring Reya as well. It might be hazardous to her survival, but at least she’ll also be protected.”

  Kaius put forward the motion and it passed easily. The Elders proceeded to determine logistics and where Adrian should be strategically placed to minimize the damage. They did so in record time and soon they were back to monitoring the devolving battle Cyrix and his troops were fighting. Before adjourning their meeting, they hashed out how to tell the populace the real truth. Once that was determined, they ended their meeting and immediately set about making preparations.

  The gru’ul’s message had left everyone rattled. Through Annkor’s connection to the military, he’d received intel that there was intense fighting going on right at that very moment at the fringes of Verilia’s solar system. He prayed to his gods that Sunalii barbarity would prevail and the gru’ul would be repelled.

  He and Mihn were in the midst of preparing to record her message, the entire thing scripted and ready to go. All that was left was to record the video and propagate it through various social networks. Just as they were getting ready to shoot the video, the Tribunal hijacked every news station and data slate currently in use.

  Annkor knew the Tribunal had a firm grip on their populace but hadn’t realized they would so easily invade everyone’s privacy in such a blatant manner. With little choice, he called everybody hunkered down in the villa to listen to whatever propaganda they were sure to spiel.

  The feed displayed all seven Elders, showing that their message was not to be taken lightly. After a short minute of silence and preparations, Elder Kaius finally spoke.

  “Citizens of the Sunalii,” Kaius said regally, “hear us now. The gru’ul have officially declared war upon our faction by invading our controlled space with a swarm and engaging in lethal combat with our soldiers. Those brave souls are putting their lives on the line as we speak to keep us all safe. Make no mistake, their goal is to wipe us out.

  “This is the second joint proclamation made by the Tribunal in recent times. During our last speech, we introduced humanity to the world and declared martial law. As the heads of your military, it is our job to keep you, the people, safe from external threats. The vile chemical used on Adrian was but the start of the wrongs the gru’ul have done us.

  “Today, we reveal the truth. Many months ago, we discovered gru’ul activity in one of our officially controlled space sectors. Upon routine investigation, we discovered a hidden research facility built into a mountain. It was Reya Ayala who delivered the vital information that it was a clandestine facility built by the gru’ul for the purpose of experimenting on our people.

  “After reviewing video evidence of what occurred during her capture, the Tribunal deemed it fit to award her the Silver Star for her sacrifice for our faction. She too faced a similar fate to Adrian. But because so much was left unknown when she reported back to us, we could not announce the reason why at the time, lest the gru’ul learn of our plans to seize the facility.

  “Many have speculated as to the departure of one of our two flagships and much of our military. Today, we confirm that it was due to the opportunity provided to us by Reya. For the first time, we had unfettered access to gru’ul technology. We have made many wonderous technological advancements since, further cementing Reya’s nomination for the Silver Star.

  “Make no mistake, this opportunity came at a great personal cost to her. Making full use our resources, we learned all that we could in the time that we had. It was at that very same research facility that we discovered Adrian, prompting us to further delve into the mysteries of his claims as a gru’ul human experiment.

  “And learn we did,” Kaius added. “Today, we now know the exact reasons why any of the experiments performed on him happened at all. They are the true reason we have gone to war with the gru’ul. And now, it is time for you to learn. I hope you understand by the time I am done speaking just why it was we needed to keep this from you until we were absolutely certain what we discovered was true.”

  Kaius paused and took a deep breath. He spoke and the world learned, forever changing in the process.

  Annkor and the others were still reeling from the shock of Kaius’ revelations long after the Tribunal had ended their communications with the world. Annkor refused to believe the truth. That his gods were really the gru’ul was nothing but lies! He saw right through the Tribunal’s attempt to control their people through fear. Now was a time for faith and to remind people of their true origins.

  Nobody in the room spoke for a long while, leaving him the time to revise the original script he and Mihn were to follow. Upon further reading, he knew that the whole thing had to be scrapped if they were to use the shock the Tribunal spread to their advantage.

  “Do you think it’s true?” one of the soldiers asked. He was a quiet man, intent on listening and speaking only when spoken to. It was rare that he initiated conversation, although Annkor couldn’t blame him. Everybody looked towards Annkor for guidance, not knowing who else to turn to.

  “No,” Annkor said. “This is surely another attempt to seize power. We should not listen to the Tribunal’s drivel, for we know it to be false. There’s no way the gru’ul are our gods. It might not be apparent here on Verilia. Your faction has mostly abandoned the gods and have been abandoned in turn. But the Rukkan are their chosen. Our High Priest delivers to us their words and we listen, as is only natural for us mortals in the face of the divine.” He fervently delivered his sermon without an ounce of disbelief or hesitation. As he spoke, the others slowly nodded their heads in agreement, their relief palpable. “We have been lied to,” Annkor continued, his anger mounting, “and taken for fools. Your Tribunal’s disbelief will mark all of you Sunalii as sinners, damning you all to the lowest of hells for eternity.”

  Annkor’s emotional speech swayed the hearts of those present with him, including Mihn. She wasn’t the most religious person and saw no need to announce the fact before a group of fanatics. Even then, she couldn’t help but lean into Annkor’s counter arguments. The more she thought about it, the less sense the recent Tribunal proclamation made. “What do we do about the script?” she asked. “We can’t use it anymore. Not after that.”

  “Why, my dear,” Annkor all but purred, “the Tribunal has made our lives easier. We may not be able to use what we wrote, but we can salvage the important parts and use that in our new, starker reminder to the rest of the world the real truth.”

  “And what might that be?” Mihn asked.

  Annkor grinned like a Cheshire cat. “We’ve been lied to,” he said. “And we need to remind the world the cost of those lies.”