The once-lush forest planet lay in ruin. Where endless canopies once whispered to the wind, now stood a wasteland — charred trunks, cracked soil, and an oppressive silence broken only by the hiss of dying energy.
At the center of this ruin stood Tirax, calm amidst chaos. His golden eyes shimmered like molten metal as faint traces of crimson energy still swirled around his body. His power radiated outward in heavy waves, a sickening reflection of the life he had just devoured from the planet itself.
"Beautiful," he murmured, gazing at his hand as it glowed faintly with absorbed energy. "Such strength, taken from the very veins of this world. A gift... from nature to me."
Android 18 stood across from him, her expression hard though her chest rose and fell rapidly. Her body bore scratches and burns from the earlier exchange, but her spirit remained unbroken.
"You call this beauty?" she spat, voice hoarse. "You drained the life out of half the planet."
Tirax smiled, soft and charming — a gentleman's mask over a monster's face. "My dear, destruction and beauty are often one and the same. Don't you think?"
He moved with grace, closing the distance in a blink. His hand reached down, brushing a strand of dirt-covered hair from her face. "It's a pity someone like you stands against me. You'd thrive by my side."
18 smacked his hand away, fury burning in her eyes. "I'd rather be destroyed than work for someone like you."
His smile widened just slightly, though a faint glimmer of irritation passed through his eyes. "Ah, pride," he sighed. "A rare trait, admirable — yet so often fatal."
He stepped back, letting his aura flare once again. The ground beneath him cracked and burned, red fissures spreading outward as if the planet itself screamed under his feet.
18 gritted her teeth, charging forward, fists blurring. The two clashed again, shockwaves rippling through the dying forest. Every punch she threw was fierce and unyielding, her movements sharp and precise. But Tirax's strength had grown beyond comprehension.
He parried effortlessly, his motions fluid like water, elegant and cruel. Each of her strikes met an immovable wall.
"You fight well," he said conversationally, as though commenting on the weather. "But you must realize — your efforts are futile."
She dodged one of his blows and countered with a kick to his side, but he disappeared to a litle distance away. "Guess I'll just have to keep trying."
He laughed softly. "Defiant to the end. I do admire that."
Then he vanished.
Before she could react, a blinding pain exploded at the back of her neck. Her vision flickered, her body refusing to move as darkness crept in. The last thing she saw before falling unconscious was Tirax's calm, smiling face, his expression as serene as if nothing had happened.
"Sleep well," he said, almost tenderly. "You've earned it."
When consciousness returned, it came with pain.
A sharp sting ran through 18's neck as she stirred. Her head throbbed, and her vision took a moment to focus. The air was thick with heat and the scent of smoke.
She found herself inside a metallic enclosure — Her surroundings were unmistakable — a reinforced cell, its walls lined with an unknown alloy. Chains hung from the ceiling, and faint energy crackled across the floor like veins of electricity.
She reached for her neck instinctively — and froze.
A metallic collar clamped around her throat. She tugged at it once — and immediately regretted it.
A surge of electricity tore through her system, violent and merciless. Her body convulsed, knees slamming into the dirt floor as she gritted her teeth to suppress a scream. Sparks danced across her vision before the current subsided, leaving the faint smell of burn in the air.
"…Guess that answers that," she muttered bitterly, breathing hard.
The door creaked open.
Tirax entered, still as composed as ever, his cape flowing lightly behind him. His lieutenants followed — brutish aliens, all standing tall and proud, watching her like a captured beast.
"Good evening," Tirax greeted, his voice gentle, infuriatingly calm. "I trust the accommodations are sufficient?"
18 glared. "You've got a strange definition of 'sufficient.'"
He chuckled lightly. "Forgive me. My men aren't exactly known for hospitality." He tilted his head slightly, that golden gaze studying her like a scientist might study a rare artifact. "Still… it's remarkable. Not even bruised from the fall. You truly are extraordinary."
She stayed silent, her jaw tight.
He sighed softly. "Still angry, I see. Tell me, 18… have you considered my earlier offer?"
She frowned. "You mean joining your little crew? No thanks."
Tirax smiled again, patient as ever. "You misunderstand. This isn't just a pirate crew. I am offering you a place in something greater — a galaxy-spanning order built upon strength and freedom. A place where no kings, no mortals dictate your path."
Her laugh was sharp and humorless. "You destroy planets and call it freedom?"
He spread his hands, unfazed. "Sacrifice, my dear. Freedom demands a price."
She looked up at him coldly. "You talk about sacrifice while standing on the corpses of the weak who can't even defend themselves. You're nothing but another tyrant."
For the first time, his smile faltered — barely, but enough for her to notice.
"…Tyrant?" he repeated quietly. "No. Tyrants rule through fear. I rule through purpose."
The air in the room thickened with his rising power. His golden eyes burned faintly brighter, and his men stiffened behind him as though instinctively sensing the danger.
But then, just as quickly, his expression softened again — the gentleman mask sliding back into place. "But I digress. I see your answer hasn't changed."
"Not now, not ever," 18 said firmly.
"Pity," he replied, stepping closer until only the cell's energy field separated them. "Tomorrow, my dear, my scientists will study you. Take you apart. Learn your secrets. From you, I will create perfection."
He turned, his cape brushing the floor as he began to walk away. "Rest well," he added without looking back. "Tomorrow will be… enlightening."
The door closed behind him, leaving 18 in silence again.
She sat down against the cold wall, drawing in a slow breath. The idea of being dissected — of becoming someone's experiment again — sent cold dread crawling through her circuits. Memories of Dr. Gero's lab flooded back unbidden: the bright lights, the cold metal tables, the endless modifications, the loss of humanity piece by piece.
"Not again," she whispered, clutching her knees. "Never again."
She tried to think of a way out — to plan, to calculate — but exhaustion dragged at her, the collar's faint electric hum reminding her of her cage.
Her gaze lifted to the faint sliver of moonlight spilling through the cracks in the metal ceiling.
For a moment, against her will, she thought of Razor.
She shook her head. "No… he's not coming. Not after I left."
But no matter how much she denied it, a faint, stubborn warmth flickered in her chest.
Maybe… just maybe.
As the cold night wind swept through the cracks, carrying the scent of dying trees, that fragile hope was the only warmth left in the ruined world.