NOR
XEN PTERA WAS DYING.
Queen Nor Solis had known it for years, had witnessed her planet’s pain with her own eyes—but knowing the truth didn’t make facing it any easier.
For years, she’d known it was coming.
She felt it in the tainted air she breathed, the sting of pollution scraping its claws against her lungs as she stood on the balcony of the Nyota Room, overlooking the once-beautiful remains of her kingdom.
She and her advisers had tried to restore beauty to Xen Ptera since the end of The Cataclysm, but radiation had left the ground barren. Crops withered the moment they tried to sprout from seed. Streams dried up. Creatures became extinct, while others mutated, their blood becoming acidic, impossible to eat.
Xen Ptera was once a prosperous planet, rich with varillium mines that brought trade and wealth to the Olen System. But as more mines were exhausted and sealed up, the future of Xen Ptera began to look bleak.
Businesses collapsed. Trade between Olen and the other systems ceased as the varillium ran out. Xen Pterran homes fell to starvation, which gave way to weakness, which allowed filth and disease to spread more with each passing year.
Nor’s father had turned to the other systems for help, but the Unified Systems refused to offer enough.
And so The Cataclysm began.
Now, fifteen years later, the fighting had long since ceased, but despite everything she had done, Nor was out of options.
Until recently, Xen Ptera had been relying on food and water sourced from Iv21, a small neighboring planet. But Iv21’s resources were far from sufficient to sustain the population of Xen Ptera for an extended period, and the limited food stores harvested from that planet had run out months ago.
Death filled the void left behind.
Mechanical noises hummed across the bustling city. From her vantage point miles above the ground, Nor had an unobstructed view of the land. Black plumes of smoke billowed over the gray landscape. Buildings, ranging from a few stories tall to some towering miles high, suffocated each other in the claustrophobic capital of Nivia.
Flowers ceased to bloom, and real water was now a dream as artificial water tablets took its place. The burnt orange sky rained acid, the kind that burned both flesh and metallic skin.
Nor grasped the railing as the ground beneath her gave a great shuddering breath. The quakes were near constant, cracking open the ground and devouring anything in their path. Her people used to mourn the lives lost to the molten crust, but over the past few years, the quakes had become too regular for anyone to care.
The Xen Pterrans were growing numb to the destruction around them.
Nor heard the chorus of death in the cries of her starving people, saw it in the green fog that burned their skin as it swept its way through the crumbling city streets with each bitter gust of wind.
For years the suffering of her people, her planet, had torn her apart.
But she knew, deep in her soul, that soon she would have the power to stop it all.
“Your Highness?”
Nor stiffened at the sound of a girl’s voice behind her. She turned from her spot on the balcony, abandoning the view of her capital city and the pain it struck in her chest.
Like a poison.
A cyborg girl stood in the doorway, patches of metal spiraling across her burned skin, a whirring gear where her heart should be. She was one of the few who had been saved from radiation exposure even after it had done its damage.
“You dare approach me in my private quarters?” Nor said. The wind howled in from the open balcony doors, whipping at her midnight waves of hair. “What is the meaning of this?”
She smiled to herself as the girl took a step back and bowed her head, silver hair falling into her face.
Nor had always loved the sound of her own voice—powerful, yet pure. A voice that brought even the strongest, bravest men to their knees. A voice that could make heads roll, should anyone speak a word against her.
“Apologies, Your Highness,” the girl whispered. She cast her gaze down to her bare toes. “Darai has called upon you, and...”
Nor lifted a hand. The girl’s words stopped at once.
“Take me to him,” Nor commanded.
“He is in his office, Your Highness. I will escort you there, if you should wish it.”
Nor nodded once, and the girl turned, the gears in her metallic chest whining. Human, but barely so.
She briskly followed the servant girl down the tapestry-lined hallways and into the elevator. They stood in silence during the ten-story descent before coming to a halt at the floor that housed her adviser’s office.
Nor brushed past the trembling girl and swept into Darai’s room, not bothering to knock.
Stars winked at her from the inside. Hundreds of thousands painted on the walls, a replica of the sky that Xen Ptera had not been able to see for years. And in the center of the room, seated at his white desk, was Nor’s most trusted adviser.
“You think so highly of yourself, Darai, that you dare summon me to your quarters?” Nor hissed. She approached the pristine white desk.
“Apologies, Your Highness,” he said, standing and giving her a deep bow, gray hair falling across his weathered face. Half of it was mutilated, skin shriveled and burned from a childhood accident, bits of metal poking through where permanent stitches helped hold the skin in place. He rarely spoke of the accident and never gave much detail in response to Nor’s questions about it.
“What is the meaning of this?” she asked.
“I have news regarding the weapon. I just received word from Aclisia that it is in the final stages of development.”
Nor smiled, her mood lifting immediately. For years, she’d been waiting, imagining the glory of her greatest creation. And now it was nearly complete. “Then we should prepare ourselves at once.”
Darai stood from his desk, his long robes sweeping behind him like a curtain. “Nor, if I may suggest...”
“Speak your thoughts now, Uncle, before I grow tired of you.”
His lips pressed together in a thin smile. He was a proud man, but he himself had taught her to wield her rule like a mighty sword. He’d been a part of her life for as long as she could remember. The only surviving member of her family—not by blood, but through his years of loyalty to Nor and her mother before her.
Darai bowed his head and approached her slowly. “The timing, of course, is of the utmost importance. We must remain patient to ensure all of the pieces fall into place before making our move.”
“The final piece is already in place,” Nor said with a wave of her gold prosthetic hand.
Seeing it reminded her of the past. The explosions. The loss. The need for revenge that empowered her.
The past was what fueled her present.
Nor turned away, her spiked collar grazing her jaw. Across the room, the painted stars glared back at her like devil’s eyes.
“When we bring the galaxy to its knees,” Nor said, a smile slowly appearing on her rouged lips, “I’d like to repaint this room. With the blood of every man, woman and child who has ever lifted a finger against my planet.”
Darai swept across the tiled floor to stand at her side.
“My dear.” His voice was slippery, as if drenched in oil. “When we bring the galaxy to its knees, you can paint the entire palace in blood, if you wish it.”
Nor closed her eyes and smiled.
She could see it, taste it.
And it pleased her.