Hello!
This is a Fan Lore I wrote and posted on the other forums, but decided to transfer it here when I was reminded of it by this cool drawing
by protatoez.
So, disclaimer, this is probably not accurate to the official lores on all points. When I first learned that Alpha was killed by Krul, I wondered how the encounter would go if they met again. I tried to experiment with this type of intense combat writing.
Critiques are welcome, of course.
Thanks, and (hopefully) Enjoy!
-TTThreads
A Favor to an Old Friend
He emerged from the bush and spotted movement in the corner of his eye. A figure, disappearing behind a rock. Snarling, he charged in without hesitation. He reached out his hands, expecting to sink them into flesh and blood, but instead his hands tore across hard metal armor.
The figure turned around. An emotionless mask of white regarded him for a brief second before a sword swept across his chest. He roared in anger. His skin was sliced away to reveal his ribcage, and he backed off before charging in again, his hands outstretched for the throat.The figure spun away. Dust was thrown up by the sword that scored the ground as the figure sped into a bush.
Krul, growling, began to pursue. He entered the bush, and upon seeing it empty, stopped. Suddenly, a noise. A twin lasers fired through the bush. They landed on Krul’s ripped chest and hovered there for a moment. He reached his hand up, mesmerized, as if to wave them off, then something slammed into him, knocking him down. He scrambled to his feet, snarling as the faceless stranger, who he now identified as female, swung her sword in a wide circle. He ducked.
Her sword twirled in hypnotizing arcs, and he just barely dodged them as he tried to get in close to claw away her armor or rip a part of her off. Finally, her sword came down, hard, upon his back, and he heard distinct cracking. As he backed off, pieces of his ribs dropped to the ground, and his old habits caused him to breathe hard.
She was good. Despite the limp and the injured neck, she was a worthy foe. Her blows were calculated, and each struck true.
He chuckled. His voice came out raspy and labored. “Hullo, there.”
To his surprise, she didn’t begin backing off or turn to run.
She stiffened for a short moment, and sparks flew from behind her mask, then she dropped back into fighting position. She rushed forward, then swung her sword in an uncharacteristically reckless arc. Krul used the opening to get close.
He reached toward her throat and felt his hands grip around the cold metal armor. She struggled, her sword coming down on his helmet and body, but he ignored the blows and squeezed, harder and harder.
There was nothing. He had expected a satisfying click when her neck broke, or at least the crunching of gears, but there was nothing. Her neck was already hurt. All he had to do was to squeeze the life out of it. She was almost gone, he could feel it.
He prepared to finish her when suddenly, a white hot burst of energy hit him and flung him back a few paces.
He got up slowly, his ragged skin burnt. While he paused for the ringing to leave his ears, he realized that she had exploded. As the afterimage cleared from his vision, he prepared to charge forward, but she had dropped to the ground, her head lolled to the side, smoke and sparks coming from the gaps between her armor. Satisfied, he began toward the nearest treant to steal life when he heard a noise.
A distinct beeping. What was this?
A pleasant monotone. “System Rebooting.” Then, in a different voice, wracked with pain and anguish, “I won’t! Please, no more!” Back to the monotone. “Standby.”
He watched in amazement as she slowly rose to her feet, spasming as her neck righted itself and armor clicked back into place.
He took a breath of surprise, the sword in his chest fogging up. WIth this old habit came something else of old.
It was an unfamiliar feeling. Like a deep heaviness in a heart that he didn’t have. There was a word for it. He growled, spitting the word out as if to rid himself of it. “Sympathy.” This poor thing. Forced to go through this again. Fighting to die- not once, but twice.
But she was back on her feet and the white mask was facing him before he had the chance to finish the thought or dart into a bush. There would be no time to down a potion, or kill a treant.
He was already weak, he could feel it.
But the figure was back at full strength, slashing and hacking with renewed precision at his body.
He tried to push through, to get close enough to render her blade useless, but he could not. He landed occasional slashes on her, and he could see the glowing skull hovering above her head and the glowing blue flames slowly appearing.
He was nearly dead, though. His skin was slashed away. His body, broken to begin with, was tired and covered in deep wounds that did not bleed. Finally, he landed the last attack and saw that the ring of blue flames around the hovering skull was complete. He raised his hands to summon the sword to end the assault, to end her.
But her blade came up at him, cutting a furrow in the dust beneath his feet, sending the sword in his chest spinning toward the sky and snapping his head back. The blade sliced straight through him. He was dead before his sword landed in front of him, point sticking into the ground.
Alpha regarded the prone figure of Krul lying on the ground as his life flowed into her. She mechanically reached out a hand to turn his sword to face her. She tilted her head, admiring the sword’s ornate surface.
A recording, a memory from long ago, played through her mouth. A gravely voice that was not hers, dripping with cruel humor. “Pretty thing.”
