Rainbows Wane

Prologue

 

Everything can be refracted under the proper lens.

The universe began as a singularity: a seed of creation. Deep within, lifeforce resonated. By coincidence or by design, the seed burst and out flowed all the galaxies, stars, and gods, spiraling into an endless void.

From the center, lifeforce rained over the celestial heavens. Where it fell, the rock and clay blossomed and grew, living, breathing. First to rise were the Ogigah, showered by the highest concentration: immortals of inconceivable power. Further out, the ancestors of dragons emerged; they would evolve to become keepers of sentient life. In time and space, more and more planets were blessed and set upon their own paths. But another force emerged.

The Vaynegia created itself and, in doing so, imbalance. Energy should not be able to be created nor destroyed. It was an anathema to all natural laws and design. This outside force stretched the universe, causing surreality, phenomenon, and schism—a decay splitting its very soul. The universe hung in an uneasy imbroglio, a state between life and what may come. Ecosystems and societies would rise and fall, but all to meet an end in decay. The schism spread as the universe slowly burned away. Then, on the eve of Earth year 2324, a turning point came.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

1

Golsussuri

“The truth is her life or death doesn’t matter in the slightest. Nothing matters. In three days and three hours, the sun falls, rot is cleansed, and chaos ends. Everything is ending, you, me, this whole accursed universe. Three days, two hours, and fifty-nine minutes ...”

The mad god’s words cascaded in his mind. Sayth had faced monsters, tyrants, and interest rates unimaginable in 2310, but never a threat so imminent. He should pay it no mind, especially as he was currently being arrested for aiding the destruction and harvest of a planet. Isn’t that a shade more important? But it was so odd. The decay spreading across the universe offered no indication of ending it. He glanced at the glowing pink scar in the sky.

Something about Mr.Rhyme made him uneasy. And why tell Sayth at all? Rhyme’s interest in him grew to the point of targeting his acquaintances. He even tried to kill Spiral as some nihilistic lesson. Always the same thing: nothing matters. Nothing besides the two of them, anyway. There were far more powerful Ogigah wraiths, but most seemed content to let mortal creatures lie. What a day. And did he leave the freezer door open? (Damn it!)

A bump to the head jarred Sayth from his musings, mussing his low ponytail and knocking the sides of his skull where his hair was short. He was being dragged by two dragons across harsh terrain. His full-length trench coat suffered neither tear nor stain due to signature splicing with dragon scales—the only way to improve on 1940s fashion. It was black, lightweight, and malleable, yet harder than diamond. He also wore glasses with advanced AI functions, black boots also engineered from scales, and gauntlets featuring a half-crystal orb on each backhand. His partner Azalyske, a sentient metallic liquid, served as a neural network and computing system. It was a substance called sylver, making his ensemble more advanced than the elite guards’. Everything had a place and top-of-the-line purpose; Sayth didn’t believe in ineffectual attire.

“Take some care, would you? I’m valuable cargo. A craft of pride fills sails to stars and all that. Is this really necessary? The shackles, weapons, and so on? I did turn myself in. Walking on my own wouldn’t be iconoclastic.

“So, how are you liking Golsussuri? A moon consisting primarily of gold. Never have badlands seemed so ostentatious. Even the dirt is valuable. I’ll wager you see many exotic locations in your elite line of work. Come now; I know you can hear me. It’s not above your paygrade to talk to me.” Sayth’s breath condensed in the frigid air. The enforcers ignored him.

Dragons visiting Earth across the ages had left their mark on mythology. Like most mysteries caught by the human eye, they were interpreted as savage beasts when, in actuality, dragons were an advanced, star-faring species. The most advanced of the civilized races, in fact. Those escorting Sayth wore cobalt cybernetic armor covering their entire bodies. They walked on hind legs, towering over Sayth’s human form at three or more meters tall, with tails and wings stretching even longer. He recognized their uniforms as members of an elite guard; Sayth would be brought directly to their supreme commander. No petty process or bureaucratic say and so to endure.

The cold metal ground crackled as they passed over it. Sayth was towed straight up a mesa in golden canyon lands under a winter blue sky. The dragons had no difficulty scaling its steep walls with their claws. Golsussuri consisted of heavy metals in high concentrations. The thin air supported small, scarce plant life, tufts of rough, pine green grass, and the like. It was scattered along rocks and formations of arches and spires composed of harder metals, as the soft, abundant gold was at the mercy of frequent high winds. Only a few human settlements, mostly of military function, were erected this far out in Alliance territory.

Soon they reached the formation’s apex. Rocks and ravines stretched as far as the eye could see in all directions, shimmering in the weak sunlight. There the dragons’ starship perched, so sleek a design one could mistake it for a massive black falcon of four wings and crystals. A sapphire-scaled dragon emerged from a hatch in the beak, unflinching in the harsh winds. He wore a pendant with a luminescent blue crystal within. The guard handed him the stack of seven microchips they had taken from Sayth.

“Why have you surrendered now?” the dragon asked in a smooth, masculine voice.

“I got them, all of them,” Sayth replied. “Sealveybreon, what you see are the memory chips from each of the miracle sylver weapons that assaulted First Drako. Far beyond anything thought possible from human technology, they cast the tide of battle most unexpectedly in the Alliance’s favor. True to sylver’s ability to replicate other forms of matter, the sixth weapon took my form to frame me. I was never there, as all the guardian dragons were called away by false distress signals. I spent the next eleven months hunting down every last one of the weapons. I’m sure your scientists will want a close examination of this data.”

Sealveybreon crossed his arms and wrapped mighty emerald wings around his body like a cloak. “You are Earth’s guardian dragon, entangled in loyalties to both Drako and your home planet. While extraordinary service of the past acts to your credit, I cannot allow you to roam free. You will stand trial on Second Drako for the crimes of conspiracy against dragonkind and apocalypse.”

“Yeah, unfortunately, something urgent came up, and I can’t spare the time.” Sayth phased his plane of existence just enough to pass through the crystalline shackles. They clanked harmlessly to the ground. He leaped back, sprouting a black dragon tail and six wings from his shoulder blades in a gust of air that pushed the guards off their feet.

Sayth motioned to assailing thunderheads on the horizon. “Did you think I chose to meet here because of the authentic cuisine? They’ll grill your steak with natural geo-electricity. There’s nothing like it. Perhaps with an imported Cabernet blend? No. This moon has deadly electrical storms; you’ve got about forty seconds to get out of the atmosphere.”

The guards looked to Sealveybreon, who begrudgingly signaled for them to board the falcon ship as dark clouds drew ever closer. It flapped aloft as gracefully as a real bird and soared into space. Sayth instructed Azalyske to assemble a Faraday cage. Sylver wiring formed a protective sphere around him.

“It’s the fox who rules the acorns in the autumn that gets the squirrels,” he said to himself.

The sun was snuffed out by an onslaught of indigo. Fierce crosswinds whipped the clouds into right angles like bismuth, and thunder raged as he levitated the cage into the sky. Blue lightning crackled and sparked, frequent and intense. It struck and surged through the metal-rich ground, heating it to liquid.

Higher Sayth flew through the theatrics and monstrous moans of the storm. Electricity sizzled around him but was safely redirected by the surrounding cage. Higher still, he transcended the turbulent bounds, a swirling sea of darkness below, lifted into the upper atmosphere and space. There, clear to line away.

Sylver was only given to aid guardian dragons. The substance defied reality—it could be shaped into instruments, duplicate matter with a sample, and nearly instantly travel to any known location. There was no greater tool in the universe, but it was of limited energy.

“Alright, Azalyske. Spiral said she tracked the target to Brak Thaa. Find her there. It’s time we got to the bottom of this decay,” Sayth said, straightening his coat. A wave of mirrors flooded over like a swirling satin curtain and carried him across the universe as a two-dimensional line.

 

 

 

 

 

 

2

Brak Thaa

They traveled a span of galaxies, faster than light, to a mission already in progress. The curtain rose on a tropical wonderland. Like exiting a starship, a wall of warmth and humidity hit Sayth in stark contrast to the cold harshness of Golsussuri. He was used to traveling from one interstellar location to the next and thought little of it anymore. The miracle of sylver. It was all part of the job of being a guardian dragon.

He wiped his face; moisture clung to him like a child. His glasses darkened, reacting to bright golden light radiating from the exposed core at the bottom of the world. Meteorites framed on all sides by tightly rooted jungle floated through the sky. The large-leafed trees and ferns shared a green coloration but shimmered blue in the light. From these heavenly islands, great waterfalls cascaded down one to another, island to island in lengthy chains, until eventually evaporating in the heat of the molten core. The geothermal energy sent the water up as great geysers of steam to cool in the upper atmosphere into an ocean in the sky. There it froze as an icy cocoon at the farthest reaches near space as the outer hydroshell, protecting the delicate ecosystem. The inner layer warmed and rained down upon the islands, thus sustaining the water cycle.

“Azalyske, locate Spiral,” Sayth instructed. A display inside his glasses showed a woman’s outline behind several drifting islands a few kilometers out. Sayth stretched his wings and leaped into the air. He flew around babbling streams and falls, over thick foliage encircled by small bird and insect creatures, and cut through the canopy. Pungent tangerine and cinnamon odors permeated his nostrils.

His dragon wings beat the warm air. An earmark of guardian dragons was the ability to shift partially or fully from dragon to their native form at will. Sayth often sustained human form with dragon wings and a tail protruding from his body. He could also fly without wings but not as fast. It was more a matter of self-telekinesis than flight, really.

Brak Thaa was a kelrite: an unnatural planetary formation where the mantle’s polarity mimicked the core. The rocky chunks were rejected by magnetism yet pulled by gravity into a loose orbit. From within the phenomenon appeared an inverted Earth, where the sun was at the lowest point and the sea in the sky. Reflections created a wavy net of light on the outer side of the islands. The core cast long shadows like an ocean sunset.

Atop one of the larger trees he saw her. Spiral took the form of a human woman, donning a full-length white coat and dress, both engineered of dragon scales and stitched with intricate spiral patterns, white gloves with crystal hemispheres on their backhands, a silver belt of interlocking spirals, white boots, and sylver glasses like Sayth’s. Long, wavy silver hair erupted from her head, the same color as the fur in her native form. Her face and left arm appeared auburn tan but her right arm was milky white. Sayth’s fantasizing was frequently fixated on how the colors swapped under her clothes. Was it a gradient or a sudden change by pattern?

“Sayth. Welcome hither. What pertains you?” Spiral asked in a strong, sweet voice. She was a garden from a hazy dream.

“Right. I gave the evidence to Sealveybreon but remain a fugitive. He wanted to take me in,” Sayth replied.

“A request denied? I was with you at the time First Drako harvested, and know your innocence. Fleeing, however, does not portray this of well. Do the Ogigah’s words so trouble you?” She turned to face him, the golden light casting rainbows in her hair.

“No, of course not. The universe isn’t ending. That’s ridiculous. To be clear, I planned on investigating Brak Thaa anyway, and this has nothing to do with Mr. Rhyme.

“Spiral, I’m sorry he dragged you into this. Mr. Rhyme attacked you to get to me. But with the sylver I collected from the seven weapons, he shouldn’t be able to touch you. Use it to line away if you need. You can return to TriCora,” Sayth said. He was the guardian dragon of Earth as Spiral was to TriCora in a dimension separate. It seemed the coding for a single guardian dragon to emerge was found in sentient species all across the cosmos.

“Fret not; Brak Thaa is marvelous beyond imagination. The forest, sun, waterfalls of flying islands: it is truly, how you said, one of the wonders of the universe. I, oh …” Spiral teetered as the island collided with another in a loud crunch. A white-furred tail with dragon-scale blades sprouted from her back and grappled the branch.

“You know, humans don’t have tails. You’ll need to refrain from altering your form in Alliance territory to avoid suspicion,” he remarked.

She pouted. “How inconvenient. Phantom limb syndrome irks me always as a human. They are complex creatures in all the unneeded ways. I, I am sorry. I meant not to offend.”

“You’re not wrong,” Sayth said. “Back to business; Mr. Rhyme’s warning is just one more reason to capture Altnexxis as soon as possible. Did you find anything here?”

“Sylver is truly miraculous. Such versatility even the archmages of TriCora could only dream of. Scanning for decay, as you suggested, I was able to narrow the scope of an entire planet’s span to but a small area. What is Altnexxis, precisely? You have reference to him the key of ending the decay?” Spiral polished her gloves as she spoke.

“The Drakean database classifies him as an imbalance, same as the schism. We don’t know what he is or where he’s from, but the life-form Altnexxis understands imbalances and the logic-defying decay better than anyone. Some theorize he’s from another dimension entirely. He’s a top-priority target, but I aim to find him first.

“There are rare cases of mutual symbiosis with the decay and Brak Thaa’s one. It was originally a normal planet until an imbalance meteorite collided with it eons ago. But rather than split all life into two decaying polarities, Thaa balanced into the kelrite you see before you. It defies physics and suffers no schism. My theory is that Altnexxis feeds on such cases, and evidence suggests I hit the mark.

“Imagine it. This decay plagues the entire universe. Countless planets have been split and burnt away. No one has ever been able to cure it, but Altnexxis survives despite being infected. What we could learn from him. Sustaining himself through cases of balanced imbalance. It’s groundbreaking. To shatter the glass that locks the sky,” Sayth said.

“Why not let the dragons capture him?” Spiral asked.

“Why not let a cleaning droid perform complex surgery?” he asked in reply.

“This schism means much to you, as I see.” She slid her hands in her pockets.

“It’s complicated. I’d rather not talk about it.”

“Of course. I need no confirmation of importance. TriCora and we of her are strangers not to such matters.

“As duty of guardian, I was asked to find a man broken by contact with a surreality crystal. It was his wife who sought aid from me. In the forest Harpe, I searched days and nights until a blue fire caught my eye. It was him I had found but truly not, for schism is a thief. His skin was burnt, peeling of ash, and his eyes had gone grey. Home, I returned him to find he was but half a man. His mind a sieve; only half of his memories did he retain. Half his soul. Days and years were lost like finer powder. For he had been split. Not his own wife did he remember.

“I thought and searched to find his other half. Although never before, my mind was to reunite him and perhaps, just perhaps, rid his schism. But so that half I could not find and how I did look. One night I returned the hour late, for he was nothing more than a pile of ashes on the bed sheets. To cure this schism, there is no greater act.”

“The schism’s taken something from us all. As for the task at hand, we’ll split up and search the final area. Contact me if you find anything,” Sayth said.

Spiral nodded, sprouted a pair of wings, and took off. Sayth did the same.

“Alright, Azalyske, the plants and animals of Brak Thaa have a rare resistance to decay. Usually, when something suffers the schism, it’s split into two bodies, each burning of an opposite polarity. Altnexxis has found a way to avoid this fate, probably pertaining to this kelrite, and features both polarities of decay. That’s what we’re scanning for,” Sayth instructed. “What is it? Don’t let Mr. Rhyme’s words concern you; focus on locating Altnexxis.”

He flew in between floating islands, each covered on all sides by thick jungle. They rotated and sometimes built up enough momentum to clash together despite being magnetically repelled. As he ventured farther from the hot core, mist and fog became prevalent. His glasses switched to bio-signature scanning when the sight distance grew poor.

He landed on an island. A flock of birds fluttered up. They were colored bright pink and orange, standing out in the blue-green jungle. Sayth phased intangible to let the chirping cloud pass by.

He thought about the harvest and destruction of Drako. It didn’t add up. Dragons were very secretive and secluded.; humans should have had no knowledge of their planet. Furthermore, humans had no access to the miracle sylver.

It was a matter of terraforming Mars. Now able to travel the sacterrian currents to different galaxies in short time spans, it became favorable to harvest the atmosphere from another planet rather than go through the lengthy process of creating a new one. Very controversial, but the Alliance agreed not to use any planet with animal life. Or so they thought. Before harvesting First Drako, their sources said this was so.

And why was he framed? The intent was undeniable. It reeked of a hidden hand, but the weapons research and development team had all been murdered quite gruesomely. Questions were left unanswered like litter floating downstream. Either way, he was a criminal now in the dragons’ eyes and one of utmost priority.

“Sayth, come with haste for something I have found, not Altnexxis but two young dragons and a tree of leaves all colors. Quite surely, it is not from Brak Thaa.” Spiral contacted him via sylver.

“Affirmative. I’ll shadow in and investigate,” he replied.

Sayth silently sprung from the grove in a leafy gust. The black scales on his coat slithered together, and Sayth’s entire body phased to a translucent shadow. He flitted from island to island, low under the canopy when possible. A wisp, nearly invisible and quiet as a gentle snowfall.

Soon he came to an odd tree on its side. As Spiral described, it was not green nor shimmering blue like those of Thaa but rather one with a rainbow of leaves and shaped to function as a starship, modified at a signature level.

Towering over redwoods with a wide trunk, it stretched an expanse of nearly two hundred meters. Aligned knotholes in the dark amber wood served as propulsion, and several leaves, at what would be the top, stretched ten meters long into sacterrian sails. Branches on the sides had been fashioned into solar panels. Their growth was sleek and aerodynamic, woven tightly by elongated roots.

A male, white feathered wing dragon and female, violet harp wing dragon were found beside the ship. They were young, about one hundred and fifty years old, which would equate to twenty-year-old humans. The feathered wing scanned the harp wing with some device, checking thoroughly for something. Seeming satisfied, although with an expression of concern, they disappeared through a hollow in the trunk, which sealed tightly behind them.

Spiral contacted Sayth telepathically so as not to give away his position. ‘The tree’s growth patterns are most highly irregular. It seems more a vessel than a sedentary object.’

‘That’s correct; it’s been biologically engineered into a starship,’ Sayth thought.

‘Fascinating, this. Are all Drako’s ships of such design?’ she asked.

‘No, flora-based interstellar transportation is seldom used due to inefficiency and the long growth process. Furthermore, lengths of engineering to this degree are illegal. One thing’s for certain; they’re not searching to arrest me, and don’t have any connection to the Drakean government, for that matter.

‘It’s odd. Since Drako’s destruction, there’s nothing to sustain them up current from Brak Thaa. A primitive vessel like that would be at the mercy of the interstellar currents. It’s like they came from First Drako, but that can’t be.’

The knotholes in the roots glowed green. Strong winds scattered the mist. Smokeless flames roared, and the island shook from the pressure. Something was amiss; the ship began to slide sideways from the vibrations, tilting off the ledge. The engines stalled. It rocked and risked plummeting down into asteroids and the fiery core below.

‘We must help them!’ Spiral exclaimed and flew to the side of the ship. She glowed white, her face, neck, and tail elongated, and sharp fur ran over her body. She grew and gained muscle mass, transforming into a white dragon with an unusually long tail and wings. Her eyes were the same turquoise with cat-like slits for pupils.

Sayth also rushed in, his shadow body growing into that of a black dragon with six wings and a long scythe tail blade. As a male, his form was larger than Spiral’s, although not significantly.

They pushed against the precariously positioned ship. The floating island began to rotate sideways from its weight, and they could hear the machinery struggling. Trees and foliage were crushed under its massive trunk.

‘I do not know if we can hold in place it!’ Spiral strained.

‘It’s all in the mind,’ Sayth thought.

‘No, I am fairly certain it’s in this before us giant log,’ Spiral answered, anchoring her talons in the rocky ground.

‘Disposition rifts through a dozen cliffs. In attitude and the contour sifts, never spent to count the cards in hand. There’s a land in lay; there’s a deck in play—all downed by a line drawn in the sand,’ Sayth replied.

‘What?’

‘Less talk, more push,’ he answered.

The island rolled, sliding the ship farther. Only their telekinetic abilities were keeping it from free fall. It wasn’t going to be enough, as the three-hundred-thousand-kilogram vessel was almost off the edge.

They toiled with all their might, but it toppled over and plummeted towards the core. Islands cracked and crumbled as it bounced off them. Clouds of birds fled, and rivers clashed. All seemed lost.

Suddenly, at the eleventh hour, the engines exploded to life. The ship curved upright and blasted off, flying between islands, up into the fog, rain, and hydrosphere. Then finally, into space.

‘We saved them!’ Spiral cheered. Sayth nodded and dusted off his hands. They both shrunk back to human form, although Spiral kept her tail.

Sayth flew up over the island where the ship had been docked. Half of the island was a waste of broken branches and shredded leaves. His eyes methodically surveyed the scene, eventually settling on half-eaten blue rinds under an undisturbed tree. Some sort of fruit. Small spherical indentations did not match dragon mandibles, and a quick scan by Azalyske revealed it had been ingested within the hour. They were all that remained as there was no sign of Altnexxis himself. Sayth smeared the turquoise pulp and pink seeds between his fingers. They featured decay of both polarities: the violet, red, and pink of north and light blue and indigo of south, crackled like a campfire. It was unlike anything else in the kelrite.

He’d been right about Altnexxis going to Brak Thaa, yet too late. Damn it; he had to meet with Sealveybreon first. As much as Sayth tried to deny it, his gut advised that time was running out. Dragons marked Altnexxis as a top priority target relating to the schism decay, and worse, so did the Ogigah.

With this lead lost, he hadn’t a foggy idea of where Altnexxis escaped to. But he knew where he’d been. There was another curiosity an old friend had asked him to unravel. Azalyske flowed out as a silver stream in the air and took a sample of the rind.

“Spiral,” Sayth called over the crashing waterfalls. “We lost Altnexxis. I have another planet to investigate. You can join me, but don’t expect idyllic scenery. A derelict Lytrik production plant reactivated recently. They’re the species that got wiped out in the Triangle War.”

“This world whole is new to me. In time I wish to see it all, the beauty and unsightly,” Spiral said, flying over. “War, I regret to say, is not unfamiliar to we TriCorans.”

“Alright,” Sayth extended his hand to her. She took it.

“Azalyske, line us to the moon Opheln in the Lytrik system,” he instructed. Spiral held her breath as liquid sylver washed over them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3

Former Lytrik Territory

This time the curtain rose on a very different scene. If dreams were flame, only ash was left to dance along the precipice. Charred rubble, a few miserable structures, and rusted scraps of metal were strewn over a lifeless landscape under an orange sun. Like a graveyard, ruined starships and weapons of war rose out of the barren, violet dirt. Some were of Lytrik design similar to carnivorous dinosaurs, large mechanical lizards with spines and claws that could conduct an electric current. Their remnants, in ways, resembled metal skeletons. Others appeared to be green saucers with protruding weaponry and engines in sharp cones: the Raydaytion fleet. All were burnt-out shells of their former glory.

Greasy grey haze blotted the cold indigo sky; Sayth felt it slither over his exposed skin, stinking of oil and rotten eggs. Except for the distant rumble of storms, all was silent.

“A long destroyed and abandoned facility recently reactivated. Altnexxis was previously detected in the area. We’re here to find out why,” Sayth said, tasting the foul air in his mouth.

“I cannot accustom to travel by sylver. So sudden yet marvelous a tool. In TriCora, we make use a palace highway that opens to different lands. You, too, remember. Such takes both time and distance. Sylver is so far in an instant.” Spiral coughed.

‘We should communicate telepathically from here out to avoid breathing the atmosphere.’ Sayth projected his thoughts to Spiral. ‘There’s decay here too.’

Spiral eyed faintly glowing neon blue streaks on an alien battleship hull, careful not to touch them. No materials, organic or otherwise, were safe from the schism.

‘Here’s the other half. See the glowing pink scraps?’ Sayth lifted the half ton of metal with his gloved hand and placed it to overlay the blue. Solid material of one side fit perfectly with the illuminated scars of the other, yet they never bonded. Both were glowing ghosts of signature residue only partially tangible, like a multilayered jigsaw puzzle. He dropped it with a deep vibrating boom.

‘Indeed,’ Spiral thought, pulling her white coat closed. Her tail ran between the flaps in the back and swayed anxiously from side to side. She surveyed the scene; all around was found the fire-flayed mark of war. ‘This place. A horrible fate befell those present. Who were they?’

‘This moon belonged to the Lytrik, a race that warred for hundreds of years with the Raydaytion. Eventually, the Raydaytion overwhelmed them and destroyed their planet. In another system, that is. When that happened, the Lytrik ended up drifting down the sacterrian currents to Earth, where they engaged in war with humans. Thus, forcing the formation of the United Earth Alliance. Within months, the Raydaytion hunted them down and joined in the three-way, triangle war. As guardian dragon of Earth, I intervened with a little favor for the Raydaytion and got them to ally with the Alliance. Saved the Earth that day. Sure, the political climate’s frosty with little trade or cooperation, but the Raydaytion leave us be. Earth was terribly underdeveloped in technology and would also have been destroyed otherwise,’ Sayth thought.

‘Of what nature was the favor?’ Spiral asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘It’s a long story. We should focus on finding why Altnexxis came here with the blatant decay,’ Sayth thought, peeling a rusted triangular door off one of the larger buildings.

‘A hint, perhaps?’

‘Regicide,’ he replied, entering.

Although difficult to tell in their dilapidated state, Lytrik structures favored pyramid and trapezoid designs as opposed to the rectangular cubes of Earth. Interior equipment and furniture compensated by angling one side down diagonally to match the slanted turquoise wall. Watery sunlight crept in, catching the rare, polished surface.

Before Sayth had a chance to examine the technological displays, Azalyske showed a message on the inner lenses of his glasses. A snakoth approached. Sayth knew these well as monsters created by the Ogigah wraith Oth and the primary reason guardian dragons were armed with sylver.

‘What should I do?’ Spiral wondered, having been given a similar warning by her sylver.

‘Hide and observe. Fortunate, we were communicating telepathically; the snakoth doesn’t know our exact location,’ Sayth thought as he stepped outside.

A dusky veil of silence covered the land, like a bride who turned away from her own ceremony. Any means of detection short of sylver would have missed the snakoth entirely, and even that could only find blips. It drew near, hunting them; that was all he knew.

Sayth keenly eyed the adjacent compound and hillside of grey, rusting scraps. Searching for anything, any disturbance in the contour. Nothing.

On the distant horizon, storm clouds poured acid rain. A faint, winding wind stirred small puffs of dirt and particles. Seconds passed, maybe minutes. Maybe not. Azalyske’s sensors and Sayth’s sharp hearing couldn’t produce a trace.

Waiting, watching—there, now! Wasting no time, the beast sprung from the right, slashing its sickle tail blade of red crystal. Sayth rolled under the seven tons of black muscle. Snakoths were in every way designed to be perfect killers. A single eye was hidden behind a protective crimson crystal over two rows of needle-sharp teeth. Its snaking neck flowed into a centaur body with forearms and six-fingered hands capable of wielding weapons. Every appendage featured black talons or razor-sharp organic crystals. The monster stood over four meters tall and nine long from eye plate to tail blade.

It jumped again on powerful haunches and slashed with extended claws on its front legs, vaulting off scraps like a shadow flitting across the wall.

Sayth skillfully dodged under as only one with a century of experience could. He’d rather be lucky than good, any day of the week. But he wasn’t lucky; his luck ran dry to the point of being stalked by a mad god, framed for the destruction of a planet and potentially even the universe ending. And there were none better. But in all his expertise, he never lost respect for snakoths. They carried the most powerful poison in existence and could wipe out entire battalions.

Sayth sprouted a black dragon tail and caught the snakoth’s neck as it flew by, slamming it into the pavement. He quickly surveyed the area. The oily ground was slick, but snakoth claws prevented them from slipping. Ruined piles of war machines, most burnt unrecognizable, cluttered the battlefield.

‘Azalyske, scan the rubble and see if there’s anything I can use,’ Sayth thought.

The snakoth rolled and fired a spear of dry blood-red energy from its eye; Azalyske flowed into a sylver blade and deflected the blast into the sky. Sylver was an unmatched weapon but one Sayth preferred not to rely on. Lining across the universe was taxing enough for its energy.

Azalyske informed Sayth that the sump of a Lytrik raptor mech contained large quantities of flammable lubricant. The snakoth let loose a blood-curdling shriek and fired another blast, which Sayth deflected again. He needed the beast to charge. It adopted a ground approach, pivoting sideways with its massive tail blade extended.

Sayth backed against the rubble. The tail swung diagonally down like a sickle to wheat. Sayth leaped, kicked off its face, and fired a blast of energy from the half orb on his glove into the engine. A bladed tail and six wings sprouted from his back, keeping him airborne. Sharp black scales grew all over, and he took dragon form. The engine exploded, knocking the snakoth down. Sayth dropped through the flames, curled his tail around the beast’s torso, grabbed the head, and snapped its neck three hundred sixty degrees, killing it. His pupils briefly opened to x shapes as it died. He backflipped away as the corpse thudded limp to the greasy ground.

‘Thank you, Azalyske. We’re clear, Spiral.’ Sayth projected his thoughts to her as his tail and wings retracted. He resumed human form as fluidly as he left it. The battle lasted a mere seven seconds.

From the triangular entryway, she emerged. ‘Your tail blade is the same as theirs,’ Spiral observed. Sayth shrugged.

‘Snakoths are monsters most potent. They move fast as we and the biological weaponry; I would have aided you. A guardian dragon I am as well.’ Spiral raised her voice in his head.

‘Yes, I don’t doubt your abilities, Spiral, but snakoths are special. They carry liquid ghate as poison in their tails. Ghate is literally the step in which a being exits this life and moves to the next. Even their blood holds its essence; a single drop would cause you and entire fields to die. Not that there’s much life left on this moon. That is why I had to snap its neck with great care. Guardians train for years before they’re ready to fight them,’ Sayth explained.

‘Of what had you been hurt? I should have assisted!’ Spiral declared.

‘Don’t worry about me; I’m the best hunter there is.’ Sayth grinned. ‘Now we know what scared Altnexxis away. Let’s see what he was looking for.’

‘Alright, but next encounter, we work together.’ Spiral frowned and followed Sayth into the factory. They’d been seeing each other off and on for a year now in TriCora and Spiral apparently knew better than to pursue a dead end. He was stubborn, but not unreasonable when presented with the appropriate facts.

The complex interior of the factory was in as sad a state as anything else on the moon. Beneath the rust and metal shavings, a blue, green, and dark violet color scheme peered through. A few live wires seemed the only indication of reactivation; they oozed and sparked of electrified gel. Holes in the ceiling, previously melted metal, and faint radiation waves told a story of how the building was destroyed by a ship. Ground troops never entered.

Sayth could barely piece together the facility’s function. Some sort of chemical plant based on mustard-colored stains and broken glass equivalent. Scraps and broken furniture, consoles, three-legged chairs with holes in the back for tails, bottles, knickknacks, whirls, and wires were scattered across the large room.

It was dim and dusty, but their eyes allowed sight in low light. Spiral fiddled with this and that as Sayth had Azalyske scan for energy signatures. The area seemed powered by geothermal energy, a source not present in the small moon’s core. He determined the structure spanned much deeper than it seemed.

‘Were they reptilian, the Lytrik? Heat it seems designed into the light fixtures,’ Spiral asked.

‘Indeed, they were,’ Sayth replied, eyeing a flat triangular bulb that survived in the ceiling corner.

‘Tell me more of them.’

‘Foremost, they’re extinct now. The Lytrik were advanced enough to colonize their solar system and travel the stars. They lived in a monarchy heavily oriented around classes based on breeding. Irritating creatures, off the record, they could be real black holes,’ Sayth explained while Azalyske scanned a layout of the area.

‘Black holes, how?’ Spiral asked.

‘It’s a lot of little things. Hard to explain. You really had to be there. They just, you know. Well, never mind. Scans indicate a chamber directly below us. I’m going to phase through the floor and find a way down,’ Sayth said.

His body became shadowy and transparent as he dropped through the cold metal floor. Deep below, he emerged in a chamber lined with six-meter-tall translucent vats of sky-blue gel. They cast nets of an aquamarine glow over the dark room. A well-concealed laboratory. Unlike the above level, the equipment was intact, although seemingly abandoned in a hurry. He located an elevator with a violet triangular door and had Azalyske send it up. It creaked and scraped through rusted metals.

Seconds later, Spiral exited the returning elevator. ‘Your phasing is quite fantastic of a feat. Can other guardian dragons perform this as well?’

‘No, just me. I’m literally transferring my body partially into another dimension. It’s how I first arrived in TriCora. To avoid slipping through entirely, I can only do it for a few seconds,’ Sayth said, observing the scenery.

‘You intend to gloss that morsel of information over?’ Spiral eyed a bubble in one of the vats.

‘Indeed, I do,’ he replied. ‘The Lytrik weren’t reptiles when they arrived in Earth’s gravitational field. To survive drifting down current in space, they’d transferred their consciousness into a bioelectric gel. It’s a primitive version of how our signature energy remains constant when we change form. Upon arrival, they constructed weapons and mechs from satellites and junk orbiting Earth, which led to war. This appears to be where they conducted conversion experiments.’

‘This is fun! Machines, correct? Tell me more of these constructs and this signature science. As is my understanding, they were not animated like the machanakun of TriCora. I wish to learn all about it! As with this device, a series of semiconductors, correct?’ Spiral asked, examining a panel beside the elevator. She fiddled with it a bit and managed to activate the ceiling lights. They were warm and orange, fitting for cold-blooded creatures.

‘Correct and good work. It’s not easy to activate alien technology,’ Sayth commented.

‘It was no effort. A child could produce such effect,’ Spiral replied, blushing.

‘If that didn’t work, you could always use your sylver to hack it.

‘On the topic of signature sciences, they’re a significantly more advanced and understood version of what you call magic in TriCora. Sorry but it’s true. Essentially viewing the world with the proper signature filter reveals everything is uniquely signed. It works on a level largely untapped here in the dimension of Rainbow’s Wane, except by dragons. Human technology hardly makes use of it besides reading the sacterrian currents. Through signatures, we’re able to recognize the unique energy, spirits, and souls that normally can’t be seen or interacted with. All signatures are visually represented by a color of the spectrum. TriCoran technology works exclusively on this principle. It’s like learning to run before you can walk.

‘Most of the technology in Rainbow’s Wane doesn’t use signatures. Although the Lytrik consciousness transfer is more accurately transferring soul signatures to a medium while in a dormant state. Their machines are powered by electrical gel and cybernetic technology. They efficiently were able to cannibalize the machines of Earth and convert them into their own weapons of war without working on the signature level. That way is significantly easier and less precise, mass-producing weapons rather than treating each as an individual project.

‘It’s all about applying electromagnetism and the principles of engineering to form moving parts. The Lytrik were masters at it. You remember our talks about that, of course.

‘Azalyske, see if you can’t get a lock onto the thermal signature, will you?’

‘Yes, indeed. Fascinating this. Your dimension’s science has developed a level much greater in advancement than ours. Now while you work on that, I wish to explore this treasure trove of alien technology.’ Spiral wandered the hexagonal chamber, periodically glancing at the vats to make sure they hadn’t stirred. The room was clean of dust and noticeably less rusted than the previous. On the violet floor were strips of yellow light running across it at sharp angles. No walls were visible, as the entire exterior was covered by cylindrical vats. The ceiling glowed orange, like the sun, and featured a system of ventilation with pipes and grates.

She examined various instruments and monitors, tubes, and switches. Blue beakers, microscopes with a single large lens, and all manner of cybernetic tools. They were laid out on floating green tables in the center, triangular like everything else. Silence slunk eerily over the chamber, and a faint chemical odor followed.

Meticulously Spiral studied the amazing alien world but an inclination grew in the back of her mind. Facing the bubbling blue gel, her slit pupils opened wide and round. The desire blossomed to the point of distraction and she had to ask, ‘Would it be permissible to dip my tail in the liquid?’

‘Why?’ Sayth asked.

‘If one wants to get a feel for the water, there’s truly no substitute for dipping one’s tail,’ Spiral explained.

‘I wouldn’t,’ Sayth replied, to which Spiral’s elf-like ears drooped. ‘Azalyske indicates this facility is run on suspiciously abundant geothermal energy.’

‘Do you suppose it is to the touch warm?’ Spiral mused.

‘The source isn’t the core but can be pinpointed,’ he continued, entranced inside his glasses’ display.

‘I do wonder if it’s viscous and would cling to my tail. As branches break to snow, then no means I would have of cleaning it,’ Spiral thought, glancing at her twitching tail.

‘A mere three meters down and, um … I’ve lost my train of thought,’ Sayth mumbled.

‘The subterranean power source you were locating,’ Spiral offered.

‘Right, it’s almost directly below us. A crystal not more than a few decimeters long. It’s powering the entire base.

‘You know what? Go ahead and dip your tail. This is obviously a failed experiment. Besides, we’re guardian dragons; nothing will happen to us.’ Sayth looked at Spiral fidgeting with her tail.

She smiled and jumped to the top of the vats. From there, she slowly lowered the tip of her tail blade into the thick blue gel.

‘How is it?’ Sayth asked.

‘Warm.’ Spiral shivered with excitement. ‘When a cub I was, my tail went into everything, hollows, streams, lakes. My sisters and brothers would leap in the water without a care, but always, I dipped my tail. Of times I miss them. But do not let me distract from your investigation.’

‘Right, the crystal. Azalyske drill down and retrieve it.’ A sylver pole extended from Sayth’s hand and bore through the triangle-tiled floor with a buzz. Violet shavings and yellow gel spilled out. Sayth squinted, carefully guiding it down based on readings in his lenses until … a loud cracking and red light bellowed from the ground!

“Svitch!” Sayth jumped up and grabbed Spiral. Instantly Azalyske wrapped around and lined them high above the moon. From space, they watched as a bright red explosion broke apart the moon’s surface sending shock waves and debris hurling toward the stars. In the void, they couldn’t hear the blast but felt it like a tsunami. Chunks of rock and metal flew past them as the red light dispersed. Violet dust rolled across the moon’s surface.

‘I seem to have fractured it,’ Sayth thought.

Spiral nodded nervously, her hair and tail bushy from the shock. They stared at the massive cloud below. Surely, it hid a crater the size of a small country. The concentration of energy in that crystal was unimaginable. It must have been what Altnexxis was after, but why?

They floated in silence, watching the dust spread. It covered half the small moon. Sayth noticed Spiral clung to his chest. He started to embrace her but stopped. She was only with him now because Mr. Rhyme had mistaken them for a couple. They weren’t, and Rhyme was wrong about the universe ending; he’s crazy. Sayth pulled away and straightened his coat, which floated in the barely applicable gravity. ‘Well, we couldn’t have made a worse mess.’

Then, as if cued, Azalyske picked up an alert signal. It was a private line used only to inform him the Earth was in danger; Sayth was the guardian dragon, after all. Details flashed on his glasses.

‘Spiral, I got a call. Mr. Rhyme’s on Earth. Damn it! He has to be there to get to me. An Ogigah like him could be devastating,’ Sayth thought.

‘I understand. Let me aid you. You’ll need help,’ she replied, still shaking from the explosion. Sayth nodded.

Before they departed, he sensed a pure red signature flying through space. He summoned it to his hand, a surviving shard of the crystal he’d punctured. It appeared not unlike a ruby splinter but was glowing and hot to the touch. Out of curiosity, Sayth pocketed it. His dragon scale coat was most certainly fireproof. Azalyske once again lined them across the universe.