Chapter 201 - 200: Clash of Titans
The air above Los Angeles was thick with the acrid scent of ozone and pulverized concrete. What was once a vibrant urban sprawl was now a smoking crater, buildings twisted into grotesque metal sculptures, shattered glass glittering. Shuha’dar, the colossal 50-foot Krill, stood amidst the ruins, his dark and silver scales gleaming, an aura of raw, untamed power emanating from him, vibrating the very ground beneath his massive, clawed feet.
He let out a guttural roar, a sound that vibrated through the skeletal remains of skyscrapers, a primal challenge. His objective was clear: to attract the human military force, to draw their attention away from the true, insidious harvest unfolding across the globe.
The remaining UEDC military forces in the city, battered but defiant, launched a desperate counter-attack. Tanks, their treads grinding over rubble, fired heavy shells that detonated harmlessly against an invisible barrier around the Krill. Soldiers unleashed volleys of conventional rounds, their bullets flattening against the same unseen force. What few fighter jets remained in the local airspace, their pilots grim-faced, streaked towards the giant Krill, unleashing their payloads.
Any missiles fired were either redirected with a flick of Shuha’dar’s clawed hand, sent hurtling back towards their launch points or harmlessly into the sky, exploding in distant, impotent bursts. Any ANV ships that attempted to engage him were either pulled from above, dragged down from the stratosphere by an invisible, crushing force, or violently slammed into each other, exploding in silent fireballs. Fighter jets attempting strafing runs were easily swatted at, their sleek forms crushed like insects against his psionic shield.
"He’s... he’s swatting them! He’s redirecting our own missiles! We can’t touch him!" a UEDC Soldier screamed over comms, his voice breaking with terror and disbelief.
These primitives. Still reliant on their crude kinetics, Shuha’dar mused, a cold, reptilian disdain in his thoughts. He was shielded by a strong psionic shielding, an invisible barrier that rippled with faint energy as projectiles impacted it, dissipating their force into harmless waves.
He stomped through the city, crushing any remaining military resistance, easily redirecting missile towards their fighter jet’s allies, a cruel, efficient display of his overwhelming power. His psionic abilities were the true threat, turning human strengths against them, every act of destruction a calculated move to draw more attention.
Shuha’dar continued his methodical destruction, the ruins of Los Angeles becoming his stage, drawing more and more military attention. I was never good at fighting with mere blades, he mused, a flicker of ancient pride in his thoughts, but magick as we call it, I was an expert on psionic arts. He reveled in the effortless destruction, the ease with which he manipulated reality around him, bending it to his will. His mission is clear: to attract as many military force as possible, so the main invasion force could easily harvest the civilians, their attention diverted by his personal rampage.
Suddenly, a blinding light erupted in the sky above him, so intense that even Shuha’dar, shielded by his psionic might, squinted. He couldn’t make it out, the brilliance overwhelming his eyes. Then, the clear sky, previously untouched by the battle, "rained lightning." Not just a few bolts, but a continuous, crackling cascade of pure energy, tearing through the air with deafening thunder. Shuha’dar instinctively raised his psionic shield, struggling to deflect the sheer volume of the assault, his massive form momentarily illuminated by the relentless, searing bolts.
"What the fuck is going on?!" he roared, a guttural sound of frustration and surprise, as the lightning hammered against his shield. Then, a sharp, searing "pain in the gut," an unexpected physical blow that bypassed his psionic defenses, sent him stumbling. His colossal form crashed through a skyscraper, sending a tidal wave of shattered concrete and twisted rebar across the devastated city.
TRC drones, specifically designed for live broadcasting, captured the unfolding events with unflinching clarity. As Shuha’dar stumbled, the lightning barrage intensified, a relentless, crackling storm. Then, through the blinding aura and light, Richard was seen. He was floating effortlessly in the air, his aura blazing with unimaginable power, casting a radiant white light across the devastated city, turning the ruins into an ethereal, apocalyptic landscape.
This was the first time the world saw Richard in his full, unbridled power, floating like a deity, a figure of myth made real. The drones broadcast this live across the internet, to every corner of the globe. Richard extended his hand towards the downed Shuha’dar, and arcs of pure lightning, thick and crackling, barraged the colossal Krill, pinning him against the ruined building, a prisoner of raw energy.