Intergalactic conquest with an AI

Even though Lyra was unleashing the full might of her blood clan powers, her mind was slipping further and further into chaos. The curse of her people... the cost of their terrifying strength... was beginning to take its toll.

Her mental clarity had all but vanished. She had entered a berserker state where reason no longer guided her actions. All she could do was attack, again and again, with overwhelming force. Every drop of blood fueled her body, but at the cost of her sanity.

Meanwhile, the Lizardmen forces, who remained cold and calculated, continued their advance. Tier 3 warriors closed in slowly and methodically, surrounding her, while long-range sharpshooters fired relentlessly from a distance. Her wild, powerful attacks could no longer keep up with their disciplined assault.

But just as the Lizardmen began to believe they were moments away from capturing her, ending the battle with a clean victory... the dark sky above them cracked open with a fury unlike anything they'd seen before.

From the heavens rained golden plasma fire.

The blasts were massive, as large and powerful as those launched by starfighter-class ships. Each shot hit the ground like a miniature sun, sending shockwaves and fire in every direction. Entire squads of Lizardmen were reduced to ash in seconds, their screams drowned out by the deafening roar of the bombardment.

"Hiss! Fall back and spread out now!" The great scale commander roared as he raised his massive axe to defend himself.

One of the golden plasma bolts struck the axe dead-on, cleaving it in half and burning a hole through his leg. The pain was intense, but the wound wasn't fatal thanks only to the sheer durability of his hardened scales and the sacrifice of his now-useless weapon.

Before anyone could react further, a thunderous crash echoed across the battlefield. A massive form slammed into the earth just meters from where Lyra stood. The force of the landing was so great that Lyra was thrown into the air like a leaf in a storm, but she didn't hit the ground.

Since a pair of strong arms caught her mid-flight. A voice rang out across the zone, broadcast on all frequencies and loud enough to shake the bones of the Lizardmen.

"[I've returned! You will all pay dearly for destroying my home!]"

It was mechanical. Cold. Vengeful. And unmistakably hostile toward the Lizardmen.

And then, from within the cloud of smoke and dust kicked up by the crash, a pair of giant golden lights appeared in the form of burning eyes. They were followed by dozens more golden flares and hundreds of smaller bluish ones.

Out of the smoke emerged an army.

Aegis units flew into view with frightening speed, their plasma rifles already firing in perfectly synchronized bursts. The golden-armored vanguard led the charge while squadrons of blue-lit support drones flanked them, unleashing a storm of plasma fire that tore through the Lizardmen ranks.

In the midst of the chaos, a familiar voice spoke gently to Lyra. "Lady Lyra, please rest for a moment. I am scanning your vitals for any injuries."

The voice was calm, emotionless... mechanical. Yet to Lyra, it was the voice of someone precious. She opened her tired, bloodstained eyes and gasped.

Standing before her was an imperial maid bot, her polished armor pristine, her glowing blue eyes steady. She looked exactly as Lyra remembered her before the war…

"Y-you… did I die too?" Lyra whispered, her voice sounding fragile while trembling. A flood of emotions surged within her. She slowly reached out with a shaking hand and touched the bot's smooth, metallic cheek, as if afraid the image would vanish like a dream.

"My scans show your vitals are stable," the imperial maid replied softly. "Your body is simply suffering from extreme exhaustion. You are not dead—"

But before she could finish her sentence, Lyra collapsed into her arms and embraced her tightly. Warm tears spilled from Lyra's glowing crimson eyes, falling onto the cold metal of the bot's shoulder.

"I-It's… good to… hic... see you… sob... again…" Lyra sobbed bitterly.

The sudden embrace nearly overwhelmed the imperial maid's emotional core. Her memory circuits overloaded momentarily, unsure how to respond. After all, she had never been programmed to handle this kind of genuine affection. But even so, she gently wrapped her arms around Lyra in return.

"[Take care of the organic weeping mess, imperial maid. I'll deal with the rest of these inferior meatbags.]"

The booming voice came from the massive mobile suit that had just emerged from the dust cloud. Towering over twenty-five meters tall, the mech was armed to the teeth with advanced weapons systems, shoulder cannons, wrist-mounted missile pods, and a central plasma beam that could cut through starship hulls.

Its glowing golden optics scanned the battlefield like a predator looking for prey.

The one piloting the mobile suit was none other than the AI, given ego and form by Mini Cleo, though for reasons unknown, it harbored deep disdain for all organic life.

"Understood," the imperial maid responded, steadying Lyra in her arms and turning toward a transport ship that had just landed nearby to evacuate wounded.

As she walked toward the ship, she looked down at Lyra, who had finally fallen into a deep slumber. Her breathing was steady now. Peaceful. The exhaustion had overtaken her fury.

For only the second time in her long operational history, the imperial maid felt something stir in the core of her being. A warmth. A strange, unfamiliar feeling.

She looked at Lyra again and pulled her closer, holding her with care.

Even for a machine, some bonds could never be erased.

While the war raged across the surface of the necrotech world, far beneath the chaos... deeper than any mine had ever reached, something ancient began to stir.

In the planet's core, nestled within the molten heart where no life had touched for eons, a titanic humanoid figure shifted ever so slightly. It was a creature of legend, one spoken of only in the oldest stories shared by the stars themselves.

It had slumbered there since time immemorial, buried before the rise of the galaxies, before the first civilizations dared reach for the void.

In those ancient days, such titans were seen as blessings. Their awakening was rare, but when they did rise, it was said they gifted life to the worlds that had hosted their sleep.

Their emergence was an offering of gratitude, a surge of life force that would rejuvenate a planet's soil, air, and oceans. Whole ecosystems would flourish overnight. Crops would bloom in barren deserts, and sickness would vanish from the land.

But this time… something was wrong.

This titan was not bathed in white light. It radiated no warmth, no life. Instead, it was pitch black; its body was absorbing all light like an abyss in the shape of a man. It didn't rise in peace... it seethed in darkness. Its awakening was not a blessing but a curse.

With each ragged breath it took from the planet's core, nightmares were born on the surface. Where once new life should have bloomed, now twisted monstrosities crawled from the earth, howling with hunger. They roamed the land with no purpose but destruction, devouring all sources of life, plants, animals, and even the oceans themselves.

And they did not stop there.

They turned on the creations of the other titans, the guardians of other planets that had come to the necrotech world. But even those divine beings, sculpted with purpose and purity, were being overrun and consumed.

This black titan's breath was a plague.

Each exhalation created new horrors... bloated, deformed creatures with jagged limbs and glowing pustules, mutations that screamed as they tore into anything alive. With every passing second, the number of infected grew.

And worse… they were evolving.

Already, two Tier 4 Infected had been sighted on the battlefield, towering monstrosities that moved with terrifying intelligence and strength. If the black titan awakened fully… the threat could rise to cosmic levels. An outbreak unlike any the universe had faced before.

But the galaxy was not blind to this horror.

Billions of light-years away, within the lush and bioluminescent territories of the insectoid empires, the cosmic signal had reached the minds that ruled the stars. The Guardians of the Hive, three of the most powerful beings in the known universe, the Tier 7 Peak Hive Queens, had gathered.

The location of this meeting was none other than the Throneworld of Queen Xytrallia, the eternal matron of House Xytrallia and mother to Yssera and Lykos. Alongside her sat two equally formidable queens, Queen Syrixith, the Spiral Mind of the Red Nebula, and Queen Krilthea, the Timeless Whisper of the Dread Vines.

The three stood in their humanoid forms, elegant yet terrifying, their true insectoid forms hidden beneath layers of perfect biological adaptation. In Xytrallia's vast throne room, surrounded by towering pillars of living bone and vines pulsing with bio-energy, the atmosphere was heavy with tension.

"Xytrallia, is it true what you just shared through the collective mind?" Syrixith asked, her eyes narrow and calculating. Her voice held doubt and fear. She had every reason to question it, for what Xytrallia had claimed was considered impossible by every measure of galactic law.

Xytrallia's expression was calm, but her thoughts flowed with grim urgency. She projected images from her bio-spies stationed near the necrotech world; they showed horrific footage of the black titan, of life turning to ash in its presence, and of the infected horrors tearing through entire armies.

"It is true, sisters," Xytrallia's voice echoed through the throne room. "A titan has fallen. One of our ancient protectors has been corrupted by the Void."