Point of View: Lysera
I have spent a year and a half in this repulsive place.
The air is filthy. The energy is tainted with impurities that irritate my senses. For my race, origin energy is absolute purity… and everything else is filth.
I float above what remains of the tribe.
Beneath me, the abominations devour still-warm corpses. Bones crunch. Flesh tears. Blood seeps into the soil.
I feel nothing for them.
Not even contempt.
Only disgust.
I murmur coldly:
—To think these creatures share my lineage… how unpleasant.
They are incomplete abominations. Failures. Degraded versions waiting to pass their tribulation and ascend to level 2.
My race is sensitive to origin energy. We can perceive its nuances, its density, its flow. But that also means we feel impure energy with perfect clarity.
This planet is saturated with it.
That is why I do not touch the ground.
My black wings manifest at will, unfolding from my back with flawless elegance. I prefer the air to contamination.
—I will finish soon and return to my castle… —I whisper—. This place does not deserve my presence.
Then I hear it.
ROOOAARR!
A roar filled with fury shakes the forest.
I smile with disdain.
—So you finally appear… You hid when you sensed me. Now that your tribe is dead, you roar like a wounded beast.
From between the trees emerges a colossal creature.
A Colossal Fire Lion. Five meters tall. Its mane is not fur, but living flame, rippling like a burning crown. Its eyes blaze with pure hatred.
It lunges at me.
Fast.
But not fast enough.
I glide through the air with elegance, its claws missing me by mere centimeters. The heat scorches the space where I had been a heartbeat earlier.
It attacks again. Its paws tear through the air. The ground explodes under its force.
—Useless —I murmur—. I am a level 2 ascended… even if you cannot comprehend it.
A white circle appears beneath its paws.
The flames surrounding it intensify. Its presence expands violently.
I observe it with something beyond disdain.
Envy.
—How fortunate you are… —I whisper—. You possess an art.
An art.
Something I do not have.
I, a noble.
Rage pierces through me.
I channel origin energy into my palm.
I compress it until it vibrates.
And I hurl it directly into its mouth as it roars.
The sphere enters.
It explodes.
The sound is brutal.
The internal detonation shatters its jaw. Flames and blood mix as the beast collapses, writhing in agony.
I do not kill it.
Not yet.
I descend slowly, watching it convulse.
—Tell me, creature… —my voice is soft, almost kind—. Why do you have an art… and I do not?
I release another blast.
Its flesh splits open.
Another.
The fire around it spirals out of control.
For thirty minutes I torture it.
I keep it alive long enough to make every second endless.
I know it cannot answer.
But I need to vent my fury.
An inferior being should not possess what was denied to me.
Finally, when it can no longer even roar, I concentrate energy into its skull.
And destroy it.
Silence.
I click my tongue.
—You.
The ravenous abominations stop and look at me, covered in blood.
—Follow me.
My wings expand.
We rise into the sky, heading toward another island.
This planet will fall.
And when it does… I will return to my castle.
Point of View: Xyra
Information flows into me.
They are not thoughts.
They are data.
Pulses.
Connections igniting and extinguishing across the mental network I control.
I have spent time on this planet, and the conclusion is clear:
My race was created to invade worlds.
At first, I believed dungeons were optimal resource sources.
I was wrong.
A planet is superior in every sense.
Within my perception, the entire island burns in war. I see through thousands of eyes. I feel every enemy movement as vibrations within my network.
My children advance relentlessly. Tribe after tribe falls.
The primary mission requires eliminating the twenty strongest tribes.
Insufficient.
Eliminating only the strongest is inefficient. Remaining resources would stay scattered.
Then it appears.
[Secondary Mission]
[Kill all tribes on the island]
[Reward: FD Points]
[Note: No penalty for failure]
[Accept?]
I accept.
The decision is immediate.
Crossing between islands remains the only obstacle. My children are inefficient swimmers.
But that is a logistical issue.
The tribes are not.
Every corpse is biomass.
Every fragment of biomass is energy.
Every accumulation of energy is an egg.
Every egg is a soldier.
Quantity compensates for individual deficiency.
If an ascended appears, it does not matter.
Two hundred children will surround it.
If it resists…
I will send more.
If the problem is numbers, then it is not a problem for me.
Suddenly, multiple connections shut down simultaneously.
Hundreds.
Dead children.
I focus my perception on the rupture point.
There I see it.
A colossal lizard advances through my offspring like a living siege engine. Its hide is as thick as hardened stone. A white circle glows beneath its claws.
One of the five primary targets.
Interesting.
I analyze its attack pattern within seconds. High speed. Superior durability. Area energy discharge capability.
Not common prey.
I issue an order.
All available units converge.
First wave: five hundred.
The lizard spins violently. Its tail crushes dozens of bodies. Its jaws pulverize skulls. Its claws tear through exoskeletons as if they were paper.
Connections extinguish one after another.
I do not halt the advance.
Second wave: six hundred.
They cling to its limbs. Climb its torso. Attempt to pierce its joints.
The lizard roars and releases a shockwave of energy that pulverizes hundreds of my children. The mental network trembles with interference.
I increase pressure.
Third wave.
Fourth.
Thousands surround it now. They cover its body like a dark tide. They burrow into open wounds. Force its jaws apart. Pierce its eyes.
The ground becomes a carpet of corpses.
The lizard continues fighting. It crushes hundreds more. Its energy erupts again.
But its breathing grows irregular.
Its movements lose precision.
Saturation begins to take effect.
I order concentration on joints and neck.
My children obey without hesitation.
They force their way into its open mouth as it tries to bite. They tear from within. They pierce vital organs.
Finally, its body falters.
It falls.
The impact shakes the island.
Silence.
I process the data immediately.
Losses: high.
Efficiency: acceptable.
Result: victory.
However, analysis reveals an evident weakness.
My numbers are vast.
My quality is deficient.
Only a few have managed to ascend.
That limits my capacity against high-level threats.
I require optimization.
When this campaign ends, I will invade another planet.
And before that…
I will consult the Guardian.
Perhaps in Dalaran there exists a method to accelerate the evolution of my children.
Two days later, the island stands empty.
No tribes.
No resistance.
Only me.
My children.
And the eggs incubating the next generation.
I order movement toward the next island.
This planet is abundant.
And I will claim it entirely.