CHAPTER 13: "MARK OF THE BEAST" "VIKINGS WAR IN VALHALLA"

BY WILLIAM WARNER

CHAPTER 13: "MARK OF THE BEAST" "VIKINGS WAR IN VALHALLA"

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The bridge was quiet—too quiet—except for the intermittent blinking of dead controls and Emily’s frustrated breaths. She hovered over the command console like a lioness watching over a wounded cub, rapidly pressing buttons in sequence, palms smacking glass. Holograms flickered in and out like dying ghosts.

“This makes no sense,” she growled. “I’ve rebooted it six different ways. It won’t respond.”

I stepped toward her, keeping my voice calm, though tension coiled like a spring behind my sternum. “Hey, stop pressing things. You’ll blow a conduit—or worse, crash the reactor.”

Emily gave the console one last venomous tap before sighing, her armored shoulders slumping. “Fine.”

But I already knew it wasn’t the console. I turned to Christopher, who was standing back, arms folded with the casual arrogance of someone who knew far more than they were saying.

“You gonna tell us why your ship’s dying in the middle of a ghost sector?” I asked sharply.

Christopher tilted his head, eyes cold as moonlight. “It’s not mechanical failure. The ship runs on psychic energy—human resonance. We’ve drained the last of it with that little fireworks show back at the dock.”

“Then how do we recharge it?” Emily snapped, clearly unimpressed.

“The navigation cell,” he said simply, gesturing toward the rear decks. “That’s where the conduit matrix is housed. I just need to reestablish a direct link. Think of it as jumpstarting the brain.”

I clenched my jaw. “Then let’s move.”

Emily nodded and clicked her helmet down. I spun on my heel and addressed our squad of Viking warriors, who stood nearby like armored statues, weapons humming low and ready.

“Escort formation. Christopher stays in the center. No one draws until I do.”

The warriors grunted their affirmations. One of them—Freyr, a broad-shouldered brute with a braided beard and a chrome helmet — put his visor down and stepped in line behind Christopher and gave him a silent stare. The others flanked us, eyes sharp, runes glowing faintly in the dim corridor light.

We moved out, boots echoing down the steel-lined passageway, steam rising from hidden vents like ghosts watching from the corners. The corridor sloped downward, lights flickering every few feet. The ship felt alive… but not in a good way. Something had changed. The air was colder. Heavier.

Our route took us toward the lower decks, past storage rooms filled with crates labeled in ancient Galactic dialects, most of them sealed with rusted magnetic locks. Eventually, we reached the sealed cargo bay.

“We have to go through here?” Emily asked, tone already annoyed.

I nodded grimly. “It’s the only way to the navigation cell.”

There was a moment of stillness as we stood in front of the heavy blast doors. They were scarred with old plasma burns, a red warning light spinning slowly above them like a decapitated eye. The last time these doors opened, we had accidentally trapped a group of Knights inside—Imperial soldiers from the Red Dragon Empire.

“I never got around to checking if they escaped,” I muttered.

“They didn’t,” Christopher said, almost absentmindedly.

“What do you mean—?” I stopped. My senses picked something up. Cold. Rot. The smell of burnt oil and meat.

I stepped forward and drew my chainsword. Its hilt vibrated as it came to life, edges sizzling with kinetic energy and the low hum of potential violence.

“Brace yourselves,” I warned the others. “And cover Christopher. Whatever killed the Knights, are here.”

The tip of the blade cut through the locking mechanism like butter. Sparks flew as I traced a jagged line along the edges of the door. The steel wailed under pressure, groaning as I slammed my boot into it and peeled it back like a lid.

And then the smell hit us.

Rotted flesh. Feces. Blood. Something ancient and wrong.

Inside the cargo bay, the Knights were no longer soldiers. They were meat. Disemboweled and flung across crates, hung from the overhead piping like shredded garments. Entrails glistened under the emergency lights, puddles of congealed blood spreading across the floor like black oil.

“What the actual hell…” Emily whispered, lowering her visor as instinct made her reach for her ethereal blade.

Our warriors froze. Even Freyr, who had once killed a cave hydra with his bare hands, looked shaken.

“We didn’t do this,” I said aloud, for clarity. “Something else did.”

And then… the whispers came.

Low. Hissing. Skittering.

From the walls. The ceiling. The shadows between stacked crates.

A wet slop echoed as something dropped to the ground ahead of us.

Out of the dark, the first demon emerged—its bat-like face contorted into a leer of malformed flesh. Its eyes were white and pupil-less, its tongue a twitching tentacle. Its limbs bent at the wrong angles. Then another dropped beside it. Then two more.

“Guard Christopher!” Emily barked, voice cold and sharp.

My feet moved before my mind did—I leapt into the middle of the room, chainsword roaring to life.

The first demon charged, screeching, claws raised to gut me. I sidestepped and drove the whirring teeth of my sword into its chest, splitting it down the middle in a shower of dark green ichor. Its death cry was like a broken violin string.

Another lunged—Emily intercepted, spinning into a wide sweep. Her serrated dagger glowed as she carved through the creature’s throat and kicked its twitching body back into the shadows.

The Vikings howled their war cries, forming a protective circle around Christopher. Our steel clanged against talons, and our blood mingled with demon filth. I saw Freyr cleave a horned monstrosity in half with a two-handed axe, roaring so loud the air vibrated.

I was in the zone. Cutting. Stabbing. Dodging. Ripping.

A beast latched onto my back—I reached up, grabbed its neck, and tore it free, slamming it into the wall. Its jaw cracked. I turned and bit into its throat with my own teeth, just to prove a point.

Emily wasn’t far behind. Her visor was splattered with gore, her mouth curled into a half-snarl. One demon tackled her, and she grabbed it by the jaw and tore it in half with her bare hands. Another came—she pounced, sank her fangs into its shoulder, and drank deep as it writhed and screamed.

Bloodlust had taken hold. And we didn’t care.

I tore off a demon’s arm and used it to beat another back into the crates. One lunged at me—I ducked, swung upward, and took its head clean off. The last two demons were huddled in the far corner, wide-eyed, trembling.

“Don’t worry,” I said, walking slowly toward them, my chainsword still humming. “I’ll make it quick.”

With one horizontal slash, both heads fell.

Silence returned.

Emily breathed heavily beside me, red dripping from her chin. “They should’ve stayed in hell.”

Christopher stepped forward, untouched. “That… was impressive.”

Freyr wiped his axe clean on a demon’s shredded cloak. “I’ve never seen fighting like that. Your rage—it feeds the blade.”

I looked around the cargo bay, now a slaughterhouse. “Let’s keep moving. Before the ship decides to grow a mouth and eat us.”

We advanced toward the access corridor at the rear of the bay. Behind us, the door slammed shut with a final hiss. The dead would stay behind.

Ahead of us, the ship groaned again. The navigation cell waited.

And who knew what could be waiting for us.

Silence befell the room.

Emily and I ordered everyone else to stay behind while we cleared out the rest of the ship.

“Everyone else should stay behind,” I said.

Runa wasn’t thrilled, “Really?” Some of the warriors started to complain, feeling like they weren’t contributing enough.

“I don’t want to hear it. I’m not trying to get people killed. I’ll take two of you, and that’s it.” I didn’t want to hear the whining, so I made a compromise—one male and one female Viking warrior would accompany us for recon, while the rest remained behind to guard Christopher from any more demonic ambushes.

We followed the illuminated signs along the dark corridors toward the Navigation Cell. The deeper we went, the more eerie the silence became. The room we entered was more spacious than we expected—high ceilings, dark panels, and a circular platform pulsing dim blue light at the center. Something felt off.

Then, a wormhole tore open in the middle of the room.

Without warning, a figure stepped through—another demonic Valrra. I could feel a mix of dread and relief. Dread, because this wasn't the real Valrra—just another cruel fabrication. Relief, because it confirmed what I’d hoped: the real Valrra was not the traitor Maladrie had made her out to be.

I glared at the imposter. “You’re an imposter! Figures.”

She smirked, her eyes glowing red. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable with killing me, hun.”

Emily's jaw tightened beneath her visor. I could tell she was equally pissed about these demons disguising themselves as someone we cared about. The four of us—Emily, our two warriors, and I—rushed into the battle. The imposter summoned more demon scum, but we cut through them with precision and fury. Blood, ash, and gnarled limbs piled onto the floor.

Emily pushed forward, trying to close the gap between herself and the fake Valrra, but the demon kept slipping away, laughing mockingly. I had enough.

“You’re such a coward!” I roared.

The fake Valrra flickered and dematerialized, her voice echoing through the navigation chamber.

“And you aren’t? Do you have the courage to kill me?”

Suddenly, she re-appeared—right in front of me.

Startled but acting fast, I drove my chainsword forward with both hands. The roaring teeth of the blade chewed through her abdomen. The demon let out a shriek, her illusion faltering.

This time, there was no escape.

The demons we killed had all dematerialized, their essence dissolving into crackling dust the moment they perished. The ones Emily and I personally struck down were different—they didn’t vanish. Instead, they remained behind, rotting in their stagnant, ruptured state. Limbs twisted, blackened veins frozen mid-throb, and jawlines locked in permanent snarls of pain. It was grotesque. But more than that—it was telling.

Our swords worked. Not just as weapons of war, but as instruments of true, permanent death. Against them.

I stood in the dim corridor of the ship, panting, my chainsword humming faintly as I rested it against the metal wall. Emily crouched beside one of the demonic corpses, examining the jagged wound left by her blade. We exchanged glances—uncertain, disturbed.

“They were pretending to be Valrra…” Emily said, still catching her breath, voice flat with suspicion.

“Yeah. It wasn’t just camouflage,” I murmured. “They were imitating her. The posture, the voice modulation. It’s not a coincidence. Someone—or something—wants us to turn against her.”

Emily nodded slowly, wiping her sword against a cloth and rising to her feet. “Do you think she betrayed us?”

I hesitated. “I don’t know. But I feel guilty for even thinking about it. We owe her more than doubt.”

“Same,” Emily admitted. “But we can’t waste time guessing motives right now.”

With that, we moved to finish the cleanup. The stench of ozone and sulfur clung to the corridor. We grabbed reinforced alloy barrels—modified for biohazard containment—and shoved the twisted, rancid bodies inside. The demons were beginning to liquefy in places, leaking a tar-colored sludge that smelled like dead fish and burnt meat.

As I sealed one of the barrels with a loud clamp, I muttered, “Reminds me of chum.”

“Ugh,” Emily groaned, gagging slightly. “Thanks for that. I really needed the image.”

After that revolting chore, we double-locked the barrels, marked them for off-world disposal, and finally turned our attention back to more pressing matters—namely, Christopher.

We escorted him down the main corridor to the navigation cell. The walls buzzed faintly from the energy transfer as we approached. Once inside, Christopher stepped onto the central grav-platform, guiding the neural hooks into place. Metallic tendrils curved upward from the ceiling and locked onto the ports in his arms and back, syncing with the cerebral uplink embedded in his skull.

“You look miserable in that stupid thing,” I told him, arms crossed.

Christopher gave a bitter sigh through clenched teeth. “Yeah, well... Vikingnar tech makes this crap feel like a torture chair.”

“We’ll get you something better—once we figure out how to mass produce it,” I said.

He nodded silently, eyes rolling back as the interface began feeding him a torrent of spatial data and telemetry.

We left him to his duty, the doors sliding shut behind us with a low hiss. Emily, our squad of warriors, and I made our way back toward the command bridge. My thoughts kept returning to the planet visible through the viewport—a dark, dry world, blanketed in shadow and cloud. Its presence called to me like a whisper in the back of my mind. Something was down there. Waiting.

Emily noticed my fixation and narrowed her eyes. “What’s with the sudden interest in the mystery planet, William?”

“It’s not just curiosity,” I said, gazing through the glass. “There’s something pulling us toward it. I can feel it—the same way I felt the Immortal in my head.”

Emily scoffed lightly. “You think fate led us here?”

“You don’t?”

“I think it’s a coincidence. And we should be focusing on the Red Dragon Empire. We need to convince them to unite with us before they collapse completely.”

“We already bought ourselves,” I countered. “The whistleblowing destroyed their internal trust. Their hierarchy is collapsing whether we’re there or not.”

Emily paused. “And you just want to poke around for a few minutes? Really?”

“Just long enough to see if there’s something important down there,” I said. “Ten minutes. Tops.”

Emily crossed her arms, clearly frustrated, but after a tense moment, she exhaled. “Alright. But only the two of us go. Everyone else stays to guard the ship.”

I nodded.

Within minutes, we were inside an Imperial Lander, sealed and descending through the hazy cloud cover. As we broke through the atmosphere, the view outside was stark and unsettling. The land below was a vast desert—dark blue sand stretched endlessly, like dried blood under moonlight. It was daylight, but a murky one, as if the sun was filtered through layers of ancient ash. Purple desert brush clustered in patches, and the occasional orange cactus broke the monotony like alien sentinels.

We landed gently near a thicket of claw-shaped vegetation, the stabilizers hissing as they met the ground. The cockpit hatch opened with a hydraulic groan, and we stepped onto the planet’s surface. The air tasted bitter. Metallic.

“There’s nothing much here, Willy,” Emily said, surveying the area.

“Look again,” I replied, gesturing to the ground.

She followed my gaze—and froze.

The sand was littered with broken sharkfolk teeth—hundreds of them, strewn around as if scattered by a stampede. Large footprints were pressed deep into the soft soil. Some of them were reptilian. Others... humanoid. More than that—familiar.

“These…” Emily crouched low. “These look like Valrra’s tracks.”

I nodded slowly, pointing at something half-buried in the dirt. It was a pair of rusted restraint cuffs—model 7X, Cybrawl issue, designed to suppress psychic abilities.

“You think Valrra was captured?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

“Or brought here,” I said. “Willingly or not, I don’t know.”

We followed the trail—up a ridge where the brush thinned out, and the sand grew darker and rougher. As we ascended, the wind picked up. The planet moaned—a long, mournful howl through the jagged stone that chilled me to my core.

Emily walked slightly ahead, her boots kicking up dust. “There’s something really wrong with this place.”

“I know,” I said. “But we’re already in it.”

Just ahead, the mountain opened into a narrow pass—black rock towering above us like broken fangs. And at the far end of that canyon, something shimmered faintly. A flickering distortion, like a mirage.

Toward the end of the winding trail, the terrain shifted from dry desert stone into something darker—a sloped canyon mouth that bled into a jagged cavern, wide open like a feeding wound. Emily and I stepped cautiously into the shadows, the air growing thick with the scent of salt, rot, and something acidic.

“This place reeks of something ancient,” Emily muttered, her boots scraping loose gravel as she trailed just behind me, sword drawn.

“It’s hive rot,” I said grimly. “They’re building nests here. Turning bodies into birthing pods.”

She didn’t respond—she just tightened her grip on her weapon.

We descended further, and that's when we saw them—cocoons. Hundreds. Maybe more. Glowing slightly from within, wrapped in what looked like calcified mucus mixed with bone. Dozens of Red Dragon Imperialists were suspended in those awful sacs—bodies split wide, as if clawed open from within. The floor glistened with streaks of red and black fluid. Some corpses had already collapsed out of their shells, hollow, like husks, used up and discarded. Newborn Shark People twitched nearby—still gooey, but already aggressive, snapping at one another, forming into packs.

We had made it to the heart of the hive.

The cavern opened into a wider chamber where the roof rose high and fractured sunlight pierced through jagged cracks in the stone above. And there, in the middle of it all, standing half-crowned in shadow, was him—Doctor Subi.

Or what was left of him.

His form had changed drastically. No longer the twisted half-human, half-shark monstrosity we once fought, Subi now fully resembled the other Shark People—but he was bulkier, taller, a sickly sheen covering his skin like biofilm. And even more alarming: the other Shark People were moving oddly, twitching as if waking up from a long sleep. They were still dangerous, but they were no longer operating in perfect synchronized unison. There was chaos now, confusion—a fracture in the Hive Mind.

Emily stepped closer and whispered, “He’s different. They all are.”

I nodded. I approached slowly. “Subi,” I said, loud enough to echo, but not enough to challenge. “What happened to you?”

His grotesque shark face twitched. For a moment, recognition passed through his cloudy eyes.

“I’m a monster…” he rasped. “There’s no forgiveness… what I’ve done. What we’ve done. We—I—were just trying to survive this evil that’s coming! It seeks to take everything from me!”

Then, his body lurched violently.

With a sickening snap and stretch of bone and sinew, a second shark head erupted from the right side of his neck—smaller, more feral, more alien. Its eyes were solid black, and its teeth clattered like knives in a garbage disposal.

The second head turned on us and snarled, “Kill them both.”

Subi howled in pain as the second head took control, muscles spasming under his skin. The other Shark People, spurred into action, shrieked and charged from the shadows.

“Here we go!” I shouted as I pulled my chain sword from my back. The blade howled to life with a metallic roar.

Emily leapt into the fray, slicing down the smaller beasts with fluid, violent grace. She spun, ducked, and drove her blade through the gut of a snarling shark warrior, yanking it free before lopping off another’s head in a single arc.

Meanwhile, I was swarmed by the larger ones—Stethacanthus class brutes. Two of them.

Their talons lashed out, but I was ready this time. I ducked beneath the first strike, slashing across one of their chests, sparks and blood spraying into the air. The other lunged, jaws wide, and I rammed my sword straight through its snout, twisting hard. It thrashed, and I rode its momentum, flipping over its back and landing behind it in a crouch.

The second one lunged again—this one faster. Its head plate glinted in the gloom, a saw-like fin running from its skull down its spine. My blade connected with a clang, but it was like hitting stone.

We kept fighting, but I could tell something was wrong with Subi. The two heads were visibly at war—his larger, original head looked panicked, eyes flicking toward me with desperation. The primal head hissed, saliva pouring from its open maw.

That’s when I felt it.

A vibration. A thrum, like the humming of energy in my pouch.

I reached into it instinctively and pulled out the shard—an ethereal piece of the mirror we’d taken from the Wraith Realm. It pulsed with a soft, white light, glowing brighter as I stepped closer to Subi.

“Willy…” Emily called, wary. “What are you doing?”

“I think this is it,” I said. “This shard—this might be the key.”

I climbed onto the rocky platform, holding the glowing fragment high. As I approached, Subi’s primal head shrieked in fury, snapping wildly at the air. The other head—the real Subi—looked terrified but didn’t resist.

I pressed the shard to the primal head’s hide. The reaction was immediate.

A blinding pulse exploded outward as the shard flared white-hot. The primal head screamed, twisting and writhing, then began to disintegrate—cell by cell, atom by atom, as if being unraveled by some unseen force. The light traveled like electricity through the air, arcing across the chamber.

The energy washed over the other Shark People—some collapsed, others clutched their heads in agony. When the light dimmed, silence followed.

The Hive Mind had collapsed.

The creatures looked around, breathing heavily, dazed and horrified. Some dropped their weapons. Others sank to their knees, growling low and confused. Their eyes now held something I had never seen in them before—consciousness. Fear. Guilt.

Emily and I looked at each other, stunned.

“They’re… aware,” she said softly. “Willy… we just broke the hive.”

I stepped down and knelt beside what remained of Subi’s crippled body. His breathing was shallow, but his expression was peaceful for the first time.

“I’m free now,” he whispered, voice fading. “I knew I’d hold out… until someone came… someone who could destroy it. Unite the tribes… drive back the evil… get some revenge while you’re at it.”

His shark eyes rolled back, clouded over in white. He was gone.

Emily placed a hand on my shoulder.

I didn’t say anything. I just stood up, holding the shard tightly.

And for a moment, in that blood-soaked cavern, there was peace.

Emily stepped lightly onto the platform beside me, her footsteps clicking softly against the ancient rock floor. The air here was still, yet carried a slight static charge from the shard’s glow—an eerie blue light cast over the dead-end tunnel we hadn’t noticed before. It seemed an odd place for a tunnel, especially one so deliberately hidden.

We both turned toward it.

The passage narrowed as we walked, a thick dust coating the floor. The shard’s light shimmered off the smooth, metallic walls, flickering over what looked like sinewy mass growing from the floor to the ceiling. At the far end, encased in a gelatinous cocoon of shimmering gallantness matter, was a figure.

“Wait—” Emily whispered. “Do you see that?”

“I do,” I murmured, drawing closer.

The figure inside had a humanoid shape, suspended, her skin pale but unmarked, no signs of infection or bodily invasion. I pressed a hand to the gel and felt warmth. Faint. Faint, but alive.

“It’s her,” I said. “It’s Valrra.”

Emily blinked, stunned. “She’s not infected. No eggs, no corruption…”

I cut through the cocoon carefully with my blade, letting the gallantness ooze apart before cradling Valrra’s upper body and pulling her out. Her skin was cold, but there was color in her lips. I laid her gently against the tunnel wall, brushing back the soaked strands of hair clinging to her face.

She coughed—once, twice—and then gasped, bolting upright.

“Valrra!” Emily steadied her by the shoulder.

Her eyes, wide and unfocused, locked onto mine. “You… you were in my vision. You killed me…”

I shook my head. “That wasn’t a vision. It was a memory. But it wasn’t you I killed. Only your demonic imposters.”

Her breath slowed. Relief softened the terror in her features. “Then… it wasn’t a dream,” she whispered. “I thought the Hive had infected me.”

“No,” Emily assured her. “You’re clean.”

Valrra exhaled long and heavy. “The Shark People didn’t harm me. Only the Knights… and the loyalists.”

She rubbed her arms as if to chase away the memory. Her voice became steady, bitter but controlled. “The Hive were savage at first, yes, but they evolved. They don’t drain whole planets. They only consume part of the population—enough to survive, not annihilate. It’s the Knights who destroy everything. Strip it to the bone. Turn it all into gray concrete and metal.”

Emily and I exchanged a look. We had seen this truth with our own eyes. We had walked through what was left of such ravaged worlds.

“They don’t even know,” Emily said softly. “The Knights, their King—they’re worshiping a goddess of indulgence. Of excess.”

“Maladrie,” I added, venom in my tone. “They’re jerking off to a demonic entity and don’t even realize it.”

Valrra stared at me with weary eyes. “I know.”

I crouched in front of her. “Then why did you run? Why let the Immortals escape?”

Her face twisted with conflict. “Because… I was being hunted. Not by men—by her. Maladrie. I could feel her eyes on me every time I slept. When you were captured… when the horde tormented you in those other dimensions… I felt it. I felt your pain. I thought… maybe she got to you.”

“She didn’t,” I said firmly. “I’m still me.”

Silence passed between us, a quiet unity building from shared suffering.

I broke the silence. “Tell me the truth. Did you orchestrate our kidnapping? Did you put the Immortals inside us?”

Valrra met my gaze. “Yes. But not to harm you. Because I needed you. I needed warriors. And I needed Immortals. I knew if I combined them… you’d have a chance against the demons. A real chance. The war is coming, William. And it’s not just my war anymore. It’s yours, too. It’s everyone’s.”

I leaned back on my heel. “I guess it was for the best.”

Valrra nodded faintly.

I continued, “And those files the Red Dragon made about you—forgeries.” I sighed. “We’ve managed to convince the citizens of the Empire that something is wrong. Those secrets are being kept. But they don’t know the whole truth. Not about Maladrie. Not about the demons. We need to go further.”

Emily stepped beside me. “How do we prove demons are real? They think it’s all metaphors. Religion. Symbols.”

I said, “We need something clever. Not brute force. Something that reveals the truth. And once we do… we unite the Vikings and the Knights under one flag. The United Kingdom of Vikingnar.”

Valrra looked stunned. “That’s a tall order.”

She eased herself onto a rock, eyes flickering with thoughts. “And who leads this… Vikingnar?”

I exchanged a glance with Emily, then turned back to Valrra. “Not me.”

Emily blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I don’t want it. Neither does Emily.”

“Then who?” Valrra asked.

“Deathskull.”

Valrra furrowed her brow. “You want an AI to rule a galactic republic?”

“I do,” I said firmly. “He doesn’t stress. He doesn’t have an ego. He was programmed to protect life—without corruption. He’s the closest thing we have to a real angel. And he’s been loyal since the beginning.”

Emily considered it, arms still crossed. “You might be onto something…”

Valrra looked uncertain. “The people won’t trust an AI.”

“They will,” I insisted. “Because he’s not just a machine. He’s a guardian. A thinker. He’ll never turn tyrant because he doesn’t crave power. He processes needs. Make decisions based on peace and justice.”

Valrra’s eyes welled with tears.

Emily softened. “Valrra? What’s wrong?”

Valrra looked up at us, her voice cracking. “Why… Why would you turn down leading? You’re Immortal. You’re warriors. Legends.”

I shook my head. “Because It's enough, and we don't need more titles. I want to fight. I want to protect myself. Not argue policy and suffer public trials. I’ve got too much rage in me, Valrra. I don’t want to direct it at innocent people. I want to aim it at those who deserve it—demons, tyrants, manipulators.”

Emily nodded. “Same.”

Valrra wiped a tear and smiled weakly. “Then I’ll trust you. Even if I don’t understand it all yet.”

“Good,” I said. “Because we’re going to need every hand, every mind, and every weapon if we’re going to pull this off. Lastly, what's your last name?”

Valrra then says, “It’s Nicoline, my full name is Valrra Nicoline.”

Emily looked into the tunnel’s end. “Alright Valrra Nicoline, let’s get out of this place.”

And with Valrra leaning on us, we walked back toward the light—three souls bound by scars, ready to fight a war to save the universe.

I led Emily and Valrra out of the cavern, the shard of glass still glowing faintly in my hand, casting eerie shadows over the jagged boulders. The Shark People kept their distance, their eyes wary but no longer hostile. As we moved away, Emily glanced over at me, curiosity lacing her voice. “Why don’t you hate them? After everything?”

I looked down at her, my expression serious. “They’re beasts. Animals don’t torture or kill for pleasure — they just survive. That’s something different from the kind of cruelty we’ve been fighting. Try convincing Serenity of our new allies.” I smirked at Emily, who laughed, while Valrra looked confused, tilting her head. “Allies?” she asked.

I explained, “There’s a reason I found this shard of glass. It’s connected to everything we’ve seen here — to the Shark People, the hive, and maybe more. I guess that makes me a beast master.” Valrra gave a small smile. “Then I suppose I’m in good company.”

We navigated the rugged boulder field toward the waiting Imperial lander. The ship looked rough and imposing, its metallic skin scarred from years of service. We boarded quickly, sealing the hatch behind us. The engines roared to life, and soon we were ascending, leaving the harsh desert behind.

Minutes later, the landscape below transformed. We descended over rolling fields of lush greenery, towering conifer forests stretching as far as the eye could see. These trees were unlike any I’d seen — ancient, massive, their branches thick and heavy like relics from Earth’s Jurassic era. Huge sauropods grazed placidly among the ferns and tall grasses, their long necks reaching for the high leaves. Mammalian herbivores, massive and lumbering, moved through the underbrush, while strange gazelle-like creatures scattered at our approach.

“I can’t believe NASA made all of this,” I whispered.

We found a clearing, landing the lander beside the alert gazelles as they darted into the trees. Stepping out into the fresh air, I took a deep breath. The scent was rich and earthy, a stark contrast to the dry desert below. Valrra was already moving, her expression determined. “Come. The heart of the Shark People’s main hive is nearby — in a cavern not far from here.”

We followed her through the forest, the crunch of twigs and leaves beneath our boots. Soon, the trees thinned, revealing the mouth of a vast cavern set into a rocky hillside. Inside, the walls glimmered with clusters of bioluminescent creatures — tiny, flickering beings that crawled and fluttered along the ultramarine stone. Their light bathed the cavern in a soft, otherworldly glow, illuminating giant crystals jutting from the walls and ceiling.

“These creatures are part of the liberated hive,” Valrra explained. “They’ve evolved alongside the Shark People, lighting the darkness and guiding their psychic networks.”

The damp air was thick with the scent of minerals and cold water. It felt like the heart of another world — ancient, wild, and full of secrets. I glanced at Emily, who was scanning the cavern with quiet awe. “Feels like a place made for the Shark People,” she murmured.

Valrra nodded. “They have thrived here for generations. This is where their psychic leaders connect, and where the true strength of the hive is rooted.”

We pressed forward, deeper into the cavern, ready for whatever awaited in the shadowed depths.

We continued deeper into the cavern, the air growing cooler and damp with each step. Valrra’s voice echoed softly as she explained, “Every Shark horde across the galaxy has its own psychics — rare individuals capable of traversing the stars through thought alone, guiding their people and maintaining the hive’s connection.” I nodded, fascinated despite the grim circumstances.

Ahead, the rocky ramp sloped downward into an opening that revealed a vast subterranean chamber. At its center lay a shimmering pool of crystal-clear water, still and almost otherworldly in the cavern’s bluish gloom. Embedded at the bottom, half-buried in silt and stone, was a large, flat slab.

Shark People moved silently through the cave, emerging cautiously from tunnels that branched off the main chamber. They looked different from the aggressive beasts we’d fought earlier — these were more subdued, even wary but not hostile. Their bodies bore the scars of brutal conflict: jagged tears where dorsal fins once stood, deep scratches and healed wounds mapped their skin like battle trophies. None of these injuries looked recent, and I could tell they weren’t from us or the Imperialists.

Emily whispered beside me, “These wounds… they don’t look like anything we inflicted. What could’ve done this?”

We approached the edge of the pool. Suddenly, the water stirred, and a figure rose with elegant fluidity. A Shark Psychic — a tall, lean creature with shimmering skin that caught the light like a living mirror — emerged gracefully. Her eyes, dark and fathomless, locked onto ours immediately. She exuded quiet power.

Emily stepped forward, her voice steady. “Can you help us? We need to send a psychic message to the citizens of Vikingnar and the Red Dragon Empire — a warning. Their goddess, Madeline, is not who she seems. She’s a demon hag called Maladrie.”

The Shark Psychic’s eyes narrowed with palpable disdain. “Maladrie,” she hissed softly. “That name carries a poison worse than any I have known. She is a blight on the stars. We have suffered under her shadow. She’s torn the fins from our warriors — a slow, agonizing punishment. Their glands hold a venom she uses to control and poison.”

I frowned. “Venom? What is it for?”

“She concocts poisons to enslave and torment. I have seen its effect on those marked by her curse… including you.” Her gaze bore into me with unsettling familiarity.

I stepped back, taken aback. “How do you know me?”

She tilted her head knowingly. “I have kept watch on Maladrie for centuries — for the good of all who resist her darkness. Your spirit echoed in my visions long before we met.” Her voice softened, leaning closer. “I have conducted many readings on Maladrie’s true nature and origins. The story you’ve been told is far from the truth.”

Valrra and Emily listened intently as the Shark Psychic continued.

“Maladrie was once a benign figure. Her father was none other than Christ himself, a god who once held the balance of good and evil within the Wraith dimension. But as faith in Christ faded, so too did the stability of the Wraith. The rise of Alchemy and other sciences fractured the old order. Christ died, along with the other gods.”

I absorbed her words silently, skepticism curling in my mind.

“Her fall from grace twisted her into the demon we now fight.”

I wasn’t convinced. “You're telling me Maladrie is the actual daughter of Christ? That means we create gods through worship... Do you have proof?”

The Shark Psychic dipped beneath the water’s surface, then surfaced again with a soft sound of splashing. She called softly, and moments later her mate, Saw Tooth, emerged from a nearby tunnel. He was massive, his skin marked by scars like a living relic. Without a word, he approached the pool’s edge, carrying a large stone statue on a rays back. The statue was magnificent.

Saw Tooth carefully laid the stone statue on a platform by the water. I stepped closer, reaching out to touch the stone statue. The exterior was rough like granite, but I chipped a piece off, revealing a core of deep black obsidian beneath. It was real — a relic of the fallen Christ, preserved across dimensions.

I looked back at the Shark Psychic. “This is incredible… I guess I believe you.”

Saw Tooth remained silent but his presence spoke volumes — this was a keeper of sacred history.

Emily, breaking the reverent silence, cracked a grin. “Saw Tooth kind of reminds me of you, Willy.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled. I then turned to the Shark Psychic to ask, “What’s your name?”

The Shark Psychic’s dark eyes glimmered. “My name is Haj Tooth.”

At that moment, a subtle tremor shook the cavern, vibrating through the walls and the crystalline formations. Haj Tooth’s expression tightened. Saw Tooth glanced nervously at the ceiling. Valrra, Emily, and I felt the weight of the unknown closing in around us.

“What now?” Emily asked, voice low but steady.

Haj Tooth’s gaze sharpened. “That tremor… something stirs beyond this place. We must be prepared.”

I clenched my jaw, knowing this was far from over. The fate of the galaxy rested on our next moves, and the truth we had uncovered was only the beginning.

---

CHAPTER 13: "MARK OF THE BEAST" "VIKINGS WAR IN VALHALLA"