Intergalactic conquest with an AI

Rex, sitting across from him, swirled his frosted drink, the icy condensation dripping onto the sleek, glass tabletop. With a grin, he took an enormous gulp of his beer and let out a satisfied sigh.

"Ahhh, now that hits the spot."

He leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs, clearly in no rush to spill the beans.

Carlos wasn't having it. He raised an eyebrow, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table.

"Don't dodge the question, Rex. Spill it. I don't buy that 'long story' excuse you pulled earlier

."

"Alright, alright, keep your shirt on, old man,"

Rex said, waving a dismissive hand. He took another swig of his beer, savoring it like it was liquid gold, before finally leaning forward with a grin that was equal parts mischievous and tired.

"The thing is... well..."

He paused dramatically, enjoying Carlos's growing irritation.

"The thing is what?"

Carlos snapped, slamming his mug down. "

Don't tell me you picked up two random kids on some backwater planet because you felt sorry for them."

Rex glanced at Carlos, his tone heavy with unspoken weight. "

Nothing like that, Carlos. See, the thing with them is..."

His voice trailed off as his gaze darkened.

He began to recount how Cleo and he ended up taking care of them after he killed their father. The tale unraveled into the grim events that followed in the chaotic Necrotech world.

Meanwhile, the twins were exploring the sprawling mansion, their hair still damp from the shower. Emilia, their guide, walked ahead, her quiet presence both comforting and watchful.

"Lyra... what are you doing?"

Nyra's voice was sharp, almost whispering, as her eyes fixed on her sister. Lyra stood motionless in the hallway, her arms outstretched. She was covered with countless botany birds of varying sizes and intricate designs, their metallic forms shimmering under the dim light.

"What?"

Lyra tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful smile.

"Oh, you mean the birds? Aren't they adorable? They just started following me after I picked up this little red one."

She held up a small bird resembling a crimson hummingbird, its delicate wings fluttering slightly as if alive.

Nyra stepped closer, her voice hushed and urgent

. "I don't think we should be messing with those birds, sis."

Her eyes darted to Emilia, who was already staring intently at the red bird, her expression unreadable. Nyra instinctively tried to shield the bird from Emilia's gaze, but it was too late.

"Don't worry, young ladies,"

Emilia said softly, her tone calm but carrying an edge that made Nyra shiver.

"Nothing will happen to the little bird, no matter what you do to it. Lady Cleo made it resilient. Even if you managed to break it, though I doubt you could, it would repair itself."

Her eyes lingered on the red bird for a moment longer before she turned and gestured for them to follow.

Still uneasy, the twins trailed behind Emilia as she led them to the garden. As they stepped outside, their eyes widened in amazement. Behind the mansion stretched a lush paradise, a garden filled with fruit trees of every kind imaginable.

The air was thick with the sweet fragrance of ripe fruits, and vibrant colors painted the landscape.

"Wow," the twins whispered in unison, their voices filled with awe.

Emilia chuckled softly, her usually serious demeanor melting into a rare warmth.

"Go ahead,"

she said with a slight smile.

"You can try any fruit you like. They're all safe for human consumption."

The twins wasted no time, darting off in opposite directions but always staying within arm's reach of each other. They plucked fruits from branches, laughing as they took bites. Some were sweet and delicious, others sour enough to make their faces scrunch up in exaggerated expressions. Their carefree joy was infectious, and Emilia couldn't help but smile as she watched them.

But even in their laughter, the twins remained inseparable, never straying more than a few steps apart. Emilia noticed this small detail, her sharp eyes catching the unspoken bond between them. She thought it was endearing, a rare purity in a world so full of chaos.

Yet unseen to the twins, danger loomed in the shadows. Figures moved silently, cloaked in advanced camouflage that bent the very light around them. They watched from the edges of the garden, their presence predatory and menacing.

"Sir,"

one of the figures whispered into a hidden communication device.

"The two targets have entered the mansion grounds. Should we proceed with the mission?"

The voice on the other end replied, low and cold.

"Wait. Observe. Strike only if necessary."

The twins, oblivious to the predators lying in wait, continued to laugh and explore, their joy filling the garden as the storm of fate began to close in around them.

The assassins remained hidden, their forms blending seamlessly into the shadows of the garden. They watched with cold precision, calculating their next move. Then, one of them noticed something unusual.

"Sir,"

the assassin murmured into his communication device, his voice barely audible.

"The two girls, those twins, they can enter the mansion without much trouble. Should we capture them to gain access?"

The leader, perched silently on the branch of a fruit tree, gave a cold smile that didn't reach his eyes. His figure was shrouded in the faint light filtering through the garden canopy.

"Yes. Capture them. But kill the maid. We can't leave any witnesses alive to warn the enemy. Move now."

Without hesitation, one of the assassins leapt from his concealed position, his crimson blade gleaming with a deadly glow. He streaked toward Emilia like a falling star, his speed nearly blurring his form as his weapon aimed directly for her head. The garden seemed to hold its breath.

But then something impossible happened.

Just as the blade was about to pierce Emilia, the assassin's charge came to an abrupt halt. His crimson sword was stopped cold, held in place as if by an invisible force, or better said, by a hand.

"What—what is this!?"

The assassin gasped, his voice filled with disbelief. Before him stood one of the twins, her small hand gripping the blade with unshakable strength. Her expression was calm but burning with a quiet intensity.

He didn't have time to react. A blur of motion appeared from the side, a second twin. With the force of a hurricane, she delivered a brutal kick to his chest, sending him flying backward through the air.

He crashed into the ground several meters away, finally reaching a stop as he clutched his stomach in agony.

"W-what are they!?"

Emilia stammered, her voice trembling as she stared at the fallen assassin writhing on the ground. The sharp, pained noises he made were the only sounds in the now-silent garden.

"Emi! Get inside the mansion! Call for Cleo!"

Lyra's voice rang out like a command, her tone firm and resolute.

But there was no time to rest. Another assassin emerged from the shadows, his form flickering in and out of sight as he activated a cloaking device. He moved like a ghost, his blade slicing through the air as he targeted Nyra.

Nyra was ready. Her body twisted with supernatural grace, dodging the blade by mere inches. Her movements were fluid yet precise, her focus unbroken as she countered the assassin's relentless strikes. Lyra darted to her sister's side, their unspoken bond evident as they moved in perfect synchronization.

The assassins, so confident moments ago, now hesitated, their calculated strategy crumbling in the face of these two seemingly ordinary girls who had turned into an unstoppable force.

The leader of the assassins narrowed his eyes, watching from his vantage point in the tree. His hand tightened around the hilt of his weapon.

"Interesting,"

he muttered to himself.

"They're more dangerous than I anticipated. No matter. We proceed."

The leader of the assassins finally decided to join the fight, his crimson cloak billowing behind him as he descended from the tree like a vengeful shadow. His movements were near silent, predatory, and precise. He closed in on Nyra from behind, his blade poised for a lethal strike.

But before he could land the blow, several golden spears tore through the air toward him with terrifying speed. He barely managed to twist out of the way, his enhanced reflexes saving him from certain death. Yet even with his incredible speed, one of the spears struck true, piercing his right leg with a sickening crunch.

"Kuh!"

The leader stumbled back, gritting his teeth as pain shot through his body. His crimson eyes flared with rage as he barked his next order, his voice echoing like thunder.

"Kill those bitches! Don't hold back!"

At their leader's command, the remaining assassins sprang into action, their movements fluid and synchronized as they closed in on the twins.

The girls stood back to back, their youthful faces tense but unwavering. The assassins attacked in waves, their blades slicing through the air, but Lyra and Nyra moved with uncanny precision, dodging, blocking, and countering in a rhythm that showed their lack of training.

The leader, meanwhile, staggered a few paces away, clutching the golden spear embedded in his leg. He grabbed it with both hands, attempting to wrench it free, but his efforts were in vain. The spear refused to budge. Then he felt it. Experience new tales on empire

A searing heat began to spread from the wound. His eyes widened in shock as he realized what was happening. The golden spear wasn't just a weapon; it was alive, in a way. He could feel it devouring his blood, its energy spreading through his veins like wildfire.

"This... this is impossible,"

the leader muttered, his voice trembling with disbelief. He stumbled backward, his strength beginning to waver. "

Why is this weapon the same as our blood clan's? Where did this power come from!?"

For the vampires of the Blood Clan, blood was everything. They used the blood of powerful beasts to forge their weapons and enhance their own bodies.

The stronger the blood they consumed, the stronger their weapons and abilities became. But when two vampires fought, their weapons would clash in a battle of dominance, with the blood of the stronger consuming the weaker.

And now, the leader of the assassins could feel it; his blood was being overpowered. The golden spear was stealing his strength, draining him of his very essence. It wasn't just any blood; it was something far more potent, far more ancient than anything he had ever encountered.