Uncharted Planet Part 3

Their first act of retaliation against me came in the form of the spectators observing the beginning of the landmark occasion of launching their entire interstellar travel fleet. Hundreds of thousands of these clones attack me, all with thousands of cycles of memories in their cloned and mass reproduced minds. Their blood showers down upon the remains of this destroyed megalopolitan of intercosmic travel constructs. The survivors pour out from the rubble in full regalia, a minor challenge that is dispatched with barely a hint of effort on my part. In their weakened and surprised state, they are scantily making this enjoyable at all. A craft comes screaming, with its heart pounding, before I can react, I become blindsided by the first military barrage; the Fluorography pummels me to my core, and sends me hurtling to the ground below. I groove deep into the earth, destroying structure after structure with the force of my uncontrollable wake. I stop, covered in debris. Danger all around, by myself, I claw my way out.

Hovering high above me, they want answers. I don’t hesitate, and launch a bombardment of projectiles. They didn’t stand a chance. Covered in their fallen viscera, I leap into the air, taking flight. More of their armies encircle me; they will not make the same mistake again. Taking a thrill, I blast across their skies, lowering a curtain of fire aggregately over the major cities in the area. Stopping along the coast to confront their pursuing legion, I tear into them one by one, smashing through, shattering their formation, and taking hold of their crafts, pulverizing them into each other.

Enough of the small prey, the clones arrive in the largest weapons they have, never having intentions on using them on-planet due to their destructive force. They know they have no choice against me. I remain still, challenging their power. They fire, and in an instant I am beyond them, dodging the blast, and perforating the hull of the goliath weapon. I enter the pilot compartment, simply to butcher those who helm the dynamo personally. I wreck my way through the rest of the ship through to the apex, and once out, I calcitrate it into the continent, levelling the entirety of all life with the explosive paroxysm of Fluorography. I ride the tempest of fallout before kicking off towards the remainder of life on the planet.

It’s still dark on this side of the planet of the Regl’arts. Reglaria truly does have a beautiful night; I wish I could account for why the wonder of their stars and sky did not inspire the desire for intergalactic journey. It was about 500 cycles ago that and accident, one entity’s overzealous weapon making, tore their moon asunder, cleaving it in two. I do so enjoy using objects found naturally. I power up, igniting my gravity impulse. The two halves gently soar towards the planet, waters rise and flood the ground far below me. Their remaining armies rush to stop me, but there is nothing the can do, I crush them by the wayside as I continue to enjoy the vision descending towards us all. I fly up between and past the split moon; I propel them downwards, extinguishing the remainder of life on the planet Reglaria.

As I leave the bereft and cadaverous world, I think; out of all their weapons and technology, it is the brutality in the depth of their being that I have been disappointed by. They saw my attacks as a continuation of their death games; they lost the meaning to their lives long ago. The destruction of the entire history of a planet, and the abstractions for which the populace died, seemed to have an increasingly hollow sound.

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