The Cockroach on the Throne

tagnone

2

2

Pain. That's all they felt. That's all they could feel as the venom incessantly poured from the wooden walls, the same walls that cruelly held them still via gnarled roots wrapped around their limbs. With each drop of venom, their bodies felt as if they were on fire. The vines composing their bodies desperately struggled in the hope of escaping the torture. Silent screams were the only sound in the dark and cold room that found itself inside a massive tree, and even those would have only been heard by the same kind of the prisoners.

Septeds. That's what they were, although one could have easily mistaken them for Humans due to the humanoid forms they continuously kept. For anyone well-informed enough this would have been a clear indication these were Brothers and Sisters of the Soil, a group of eco-terrorists lead by fanatic Septeds who wished to bring the ancient Humanoid species back to life. This structure inside the tree, and the entire planet for that matter, belonged to them.

The twelve Septeds who now were hanging on the walls once stood proudly as they created new life from dead planets and contributed to what they considered a cause bigger than themselves to bring the rightful rulers of the galaxy back on the throne. Yet, now they were there, no longer proud but suffering like animals as they were continuously engulfed by what felt like invisible flames slowly eating their bodies. Why? What did they do to deserve this? Who was responsible for this?

His name was Vinerse, and he stood there in the room, his slim body easily towering over anyone else, and his much more numerous flowers completely covering his head, indicating his much older age. Not too long ago Vinerse was the second-in-command of the group, a position he had earned by gifting Snee most of his worlds when she invaded him and continuously filling her with compliments and advices. Now however, Vinerse was no longer second: he was first, the sole leader everyone would have listened to, or that's what he thought at least, but the truth was much different. Many had questioned his leadership and a more vocal part wanted him gone. Obviously, Vinerse couldn't allow this to go unpunished. Where there now were merely twelve Septeds, once there were hundreds. Their regenerative gift allowed for a perfect torture method, preventing the venom from killing them but greatly prolonging their suffering. A perfect way to send his message.

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"So, how are you doing today?" Vinerse inquired with a sneer, feigning ignorance of the answer. Septeds were creatures of remarkable healing prowess, elusive to the grasp of death itself, a fact Vinerse had bet on. The venom was potent, not lethal enough to end a Septed, but sufficient to inflict a sensation akin to burning alive. Their regenerative gift only prolonged the agony. It proved a formidable tactic: the chamber once teemed with countless Septeds; now, merely a dozen remained, defying what was justly his.

"Blasphemous bastard! As soon as we get free, we'll kill you!" One of the Septeds answered, the vines forming his body shaking in anger, even those blocked by the roots.

"P-please… s-stop this…" implored another, her petals trembling faintly as she struggled to speak.

"If you wish this to stop, you know the conditions. But perhaps it's too soon for this. Perhaps you require more time-"

"No!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with desperation. "I… I take everything back! You… you are our one true leader…"

Vinerse turned to the others. "What about the rest of you? Do you still defy me or have you finally listened to reason?"

The others initially didn't respond, remembering who they had sworn loyalty to. One by one, however, they too started imploring, filling Vinerse with apologies and compliments. Only five still found the strength within themselves to keep insulting him.

With a mere gesture of his hand, Vinerse commanded the roots to release the Septeds that had finally decided to recognize him as their leader. As for the others, he would have increased the quantity of the venom once he had returned from his trip.


"Soon enough, no one will be standing in my way," he thought to himself with malicious glee as he walked away. After all the time he had to crawl at Snee's feet he finally was the one in charge of everything, and soon enough he would have ruled over the entire galaxy. He didn't actually know what had happened to Snee following her latest mission, nor did anyone else in the group knew for that matter, and he honestly didn't care. He had already announced and insisted on Snee being dead to ensure these fanatics would, at least for the most part, accept him as their new leader, while also repeating the same nonsense regarding Humanoids that Snee would continuously preach. Humanoids, bah. He never understood why Snee and the others were so obsessed with them. Yes, they had created the Septed species as a whole, but they were long gone so was it really worth to idolize them so much? Well, regardless of what Vinerse thought, if worshipping some dead aliens was gonna get him his own personal army and the possibility of getting his vines onto powerful technology, who was he to complain?

"Vermin". That's how many called him, and it was far from the worst title he had received. More or less everyone assumed Vinerse was just an opportunist who had no ideals whatsoever, and was ready to crawl as law as possible if it meant being able to get an advantageous position. While it was true that Vinerse was an opportunist, he did hold certain ideals close to his heart: he believed that might is right and that survival belongs to the most avaricious. This philosophy was ingrained in him from the experience with his first world. Oh, how vividly he recalled the breathtaking nature and the gentle, peace-loving dominant species. It wasn't simply perfect: it was utopian. Sadly, all things end, and Vinerse learned this the hard way when a catastrophic event shattered all he had built. Wandering through the ruins of what was once an idyllic world, he was heartbroken, yet to his astonishment, he found survivors: these aliens were nothing like the benevolent pacifists he had envisioned however; they were ruthless, savage opportunists, and yet they were the ones who had endured. This revelation forever altered Vinerse's perspective. He crafted new worlds, challenging their denizens to outlast each other, validating his newfound belief. His crowning achievement was a planet that transformed every creature on its surface into formidable warriors and lethal weapons. However, this did not imply that Vinerse was a mindless brute: he understood that might is correct, but intelligence must guide strength, even if it necessitates stealth and cunning.

As said before, "vermin" was a common way to refer to him, but he saw himself as something different. The tales Snee spun of Humanoids and Humans held little interest for him, except for when she brought up Earth's cockroaches. Tiny yet resilient, they even outlived Ember Day, planetary armageddon, by stowing away on spacecraft. People might have deemed cockroaches insignificant and repulsive, but ultimately, they endured. Vinerse was the same: he was deemed lowly and vile by his peers but, in the end, always seemed to triumph over them.


Navigating through the chambers of the colossal tree, Vinerse emerged into the night, greeted by a sky adorned with stars and dual moons. The area was encircled by unique flora that covered the whole planet. These plants were destined to evolve into new Septeds. It was rare for Septeds to utilize entire planets as nurseries for their kind, with some avoiding reproduction entirely. Still, the Brothers and Sisters of the Soil relished nurturing new life at their central hub, and raising them to become loyal members of their group.

Close by, a small group of Septeds stood besides a spacecraft. Their appearances were unremarkable, save for Maar, who was notably smaller than his companions. With only 200 years of life, Maar was one of the youngest members of the Brothers and Sisters of the Soil, born on the very planet they now stood on. His loyalty to the organization was unwavering, yet his appetite for violence was lacking.

"Is everything ready?" asked Vinerse, addressing the group.

"Affirmative," replied a Septed. "We are prepared to depart at your command."

"Excellent," Vinerse exclaimed, before shifting his focus to Maar. He had instantly perceived the child's nervousness. "What troubles you, Maar?" he asked gently.

"W-well… I…" Maar stammered, his voice trailing off uncertainly.

"Yes?" Vinerse pressed, his impatience mounting as his gentle tone quickly vanished.

"It's just that… I don't believe Snee would have approved of this… and… is there truly a need for more weapons?"

Vinerse paused before responding, leaving the other Septeds anxious about Maar's impending doom. Finally, he declared: "Snee is dead. Her heart was in the right place, but her impulsiveness and haste in decision-making were her downfall. And as for your comment, it's time to grow up." With that, he boarded the spaceship. The child's point was valid: Snee would have opposed this, which was precisely why many had doubted Vinerse's leadership. And what was "this", you might wonder? It was the forging of alliances with the Vuon Da, a race of cyborgs, for their weaponry. Snee had a deep-seated aversion to any fusion of flesh and technology, necessary or not. Vinerse, on the other side, didn't care: the Vuon Da's reputation as formidable arms dealers spanned the galaxy, and their potent arsenal could sustain the cyborgs' war against the Soshi.

At last, they arrived at their destination. The Septeds, equipped with translators, stepped out carrying a box brimming with gemstones. Greeting them were two humanoid robots, their forms encrusted with stones, save for the pink organ pulsating in their chests. The transaction was swift and silent: the Septeds handed the box to the Vuon Da, who presented them with another. This box contained an array of guns designed to drain the life energy from their targets, reducing them to frigid shells. Vinerse, unable to smile but pleased, seized a weapon, declaring: "Ah, precisely what I requested. Long live the king indeed."

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