Intergalactic conquest with an AI

Rex walked through the dim corridors of the ship, his steps echoing softly until he reached the massive reinforced window overlooking the Necroworld below.

The lifeless planet stretched out before him, its surface scarred by deep fisures and unnatural formations, bathed in an eerie greenish light from the system's distant star. He stood there, his arms crossed, staring into the endless wasteland as his mind drifted to the things he had just learned.

He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair.

"So... I'm not even human anymore, huh?"

he muttered to himself, the words heavy as they left his lips.

But even as he said it, doubt lingered in his heart. Before meeting Cleo, he had been just another orphan scraping by on a harsh world, a human with red blood and nothing extraordinary about him.

It was only after becoming a half-Kaelzar that things had started to change. The golden blood, the aura, the strange pull others seemed to feel toward him, all of it had begun after Cleo had altered his body.

Rex frowned, leaning against the reinforced glass. "

Maybe it's all connected to what Cleo did to me... or maybe there's something else I don't know yet,"

he murmured. His fingers tapped against the window absentmindedly.

"But there's no point in thinking too hard about it. Whatever's going on, we'll figure it out sooner or later."

Letting out another sigh, he pushed himself off the window and headed back toward his quarters. His body felt heavy, his mind racing, but he was determined to push it all aside for now.

"Sleep first. Save the galaxy-shattering identity crisis for later,"

he muttered to himself with a dry chuckle as he disappeared down the hallway.

Meanwhile, in the dark alleys of Nakor's principal commercial city...

The slum reeked of decay and desperation, its narrow, winding streets cloaked in shadow. In the dead of night, a notorious criminal, a man wanted for multiple murders, extortion, and unspeakable abuses, ran for his life.

Sweat poured down his face as his breath came in ragged gasps, his wild eyes darting around in search of an escape.

Behind him, shadows moved swiflty across the rooftops, silent and relentless. They moved like predators, closing the gap with every leap. The criminal turned a corner, his boots splashing through the filthy, wet ground, but it was no use. One of the shadows pounced, slamming him into the dirt with brutal force.

"Argh! Unhand me, you bastard!"

the man spat, thrashing against his captor. "

Do you even know who I am? You're dead! You hear me? DEAD!"

The figure pinning him down said nothing, his face obscured by the deep hood of a dark red robe. His armor, the same blood-red color, gleamed faintly under the dim light.

The man's communicator crackled to life, and he spoke into it in a low, gravelly voice.

"Sir, we've captured the target. Should we kill him?"

A calm yet commanding voice responded through the line.

"No. The client specifically requested he be brought back alive so she can deal with him personally."

The red-clad figure glanced down at the squirming criminal, disdain flashing in his hidden gaze.

"Understood. But with respect, sir, why are we wasting time on work like this? Any low-level assassin or mercenary could've handled it."

He punctuated his frustration by kicking the criminal in the ribs, eliciting a grunt of pain.

The voice on the other end of the line responded evenly, unbothered by the complaint.

"Consider it training. Our real mission is far more significant. The client has tasked us with eliminating the key leaders of the underground city. The ones who keep its dark web of crime and power in motion."

The figure's interest piqued at that.

"And do we have a lead on these leaders, sir?"

"Indeed,"

the leader replied.

"The first target has already been identified. He's the head of the Thunderblades mercenary group, a human by the name of Carlos. Brown skin, bald, and notorious in the underworld."

The figure glanced back at his squad, the shadows shifting as more red-armored individuals emerged from the darkness.

"Carlos, huh? Well, if we already know where he is, why are we wasting time on this trash?"

He kicked the groaning criminal again for emphasis.

The voice on the communicator remained calm, but there was a sharp edge to it now.

"Patience. The client has already arranged for Carlos to take a lucrative mission outside the city. Once he leaves the safety of the city, we'll ambush him. It will be quick and clean."

The figure nodded, rising to his full height.

"Understood, sir. We'll deliver this one and regroup for the next phase."

"See that you do. And remember,"

the voice added,

"failure is not an option."

The communication ended, and the figure turned to his squad.

"You heard the boss. Let's move. The client wants this garbage alive, so let's not kill him just yet."

He grabbed the criminal by the collar, dragging him to his feet.

As the squad melted back into the shadows, their movements precise and practiced, the criminal whimpered, his false bravado long gone. Far above, the city's neon lights flickered in the distance, oblivious to these events.

"Alright, son, I have to hang up now,"

Carlos said through his communicator, his voice warm but tinged with urgency.

He climbed into his all-terrain vehicle, the engine rumbling to life beneath him. "

I just took a mission that needs to be handled quickly, and it's outside the city. Remember to study hard, alright?"

On the other end of the secure line, a young boy's voice piped up, clear but a little disappointed.

"Okay, Dad. But… When will you and Uncle Rex come visit me?"

Carlos sighed, gripping the steering wheel tightly as he leaned back in his seat.

"We've talked about this, son. It's too dangerous for us to visit right now. The work I do... it's not something I want you or your grandma getting involved in."

His voice softened, though, trying to ease the boy's frustration.

"At least we can talk thanks to that secure line Rex's girl set up for us. When the time comes, when it's safe, I'll tell you, and we'll finally meet face-to-face. Deal?"

There was a pause on the other end, then a long, drawn-out sigh.

"Fiiiine… okay, deal,"

the boy finally relented, his tone reluctant.

"But you have to promise, Dad. You'll let me know when."

Carlos smiled faintly, his hardened expression softening for a moment.

"I promise, son. Now, take care of yourself, stay out of trouble, and keep an eye on your grandma for me, alright?"

"Okay, Dad. I will. See you soon. And... don't get hurt!"

Carlos chuckled, his chest tightening at the boy's words.

"I'll be fine. You know me. Take care, kiddo."

"Bye, Dad,"

the boy said before the line went silent.

Carlos sat in his seat for a moment, staring at the communicator in his hand. The sound of his son's voice always made his resolve stronger, and the distance between them was even harder to bear. He placed the communicator in its holder, letting out a quiet breath before focusing on the task ahead.

The engine roared as he started driving toward the city's massive gates. Inside the commercial planet, only military officers were legally permitted to use airships for transport. Everyone else, even mercenaries like Carlos, had to rely on land vehicles.

Not that he minded too much since he loved his rugged, heavily-modified all-terrain car, a beast of a vehicle that looked more like a tank than anything else.

As he neared the city's gates, Carlos pushed the accelerator, the vehicle's tires crunching against the dirt road. The towering metal doors of the underground city loomed ahead, their floodlights casting harsh beams across the darkened outskirts.

"Time to get this over with,"

Carlos muttered to himself.

The guards at the gate barely gave him a glance as he approached. They were used to seeing him since Carlos was a regular face here, and no one questioned his comings and goings anymore.

With a sharp nod from one of the officers, the gates rumbled open, and Carlos sped through without issue, heading out into the endless, barren wilderness beyond.

The night stretched before him, the stars barely visible through the faint haze of pollution lingering in the atmosphere. As he drove further from the city, the weight of the mission settled on his shoulders.

Something about this job didn't sit right with him, but work was work, and Carlos had learned long ago not to ask too many questions.

Unbeknownst to him, several pairs of crimson eyes watched from the shadows, tracking his every move.

Carlos drove through the dense forest at breakneck speed, the roar of his vehicle's engine echoing through the night. The tires kicked up dirt and rocks as he sped along the uneven terrain, the all-terrain car handling the harsh ground with ease.

At 250 kilometers per hour, Carlos knew he was pushing the limits, but he trusted his beloved tank-like car to get him to his destination safely.

The forest blurred past him, its massive trees casting dark shadows under the pale glow of the moons above. Carlos kept his eyes on the road, or what passed for a road out here. He grinned faintly, adrenaline surging through him. "

Let's see someone try to catch me now,"

he muttered, the confidence in his voice born from years of dangerous missions.

Unbeknownst to him, his confidence was misplaced.

Through the dense canopy of the forest, several dark red figures moved with inhuman speed. Their armored forms blended seamlessly with the shadows, their movements so swift and precise that they seemed almost like phantoms.

Despite the incredible speed of Carlos' vehicle, the figures were keeping pace, their strides long and powerful as they darted between the trees.

From the side of the forest, one of the shadows gave a silent signal. The others responded instantly, surging forward as one. Their timing was perfect; within seconds, several of the dark red figures leapt from the underbrush, their powerful bodies hurtling toward the speeding car.

The impact was sudden and violent.

CRASH!