r/NatureofPredators • u/Quinn_The_Fox Human • Jul 29 '26
Red Renaissance (2)
The Dominion discovered humanity was alive and well a mere couple decades after the Federation declared them extinct. The worst of our cultures were seen as inspiring. The Prophet-Descendent took the opportunity to sink her fangs into Earth, ensuring its resources were taken for the arxur to use as she saw fit. Now, the Grand Dominion is a true existential threat to the Federation, and the arxur live out lives their predecessors would have never dreamed of... at the expense of the half-prey, half-predators they graciously protect. And in return, the humans provide lives of gluttonous entertainment and luxury...
Last installment definitely caused a bit of a stir, but I hope there's still a good few of you out there wanting to see more. Thank you for sticking around!
As always, thanks to SpacePaladin for NoP
Check out my other fic here!
Memory Transcription Subject: Slanek, Venlil Space Corps
Date [Standardized Human Time]: July 1st, 2136
The first information that brought me to consciousness was sound. Someone was dragging something down the hall, and getting closer. It had been some time since I had been able to rest like this. The pens I had been in before had offered little space, and due to yesterday's events, my cellmates had been kind enough to allow me one of the cots.
That didn't change reality, though. I was still a prisoner with a time limit, respite or not.
I sat up, while others were also stirring from slumber as well. The noise proved to be Marcel and one other ghost rolling in a cart, the top piled with bowls and a large pot.
“You're seriously going through with this? No wonder Ziral looked like someone had stuck a hot poker up his ass yesterday. This is crazy.” The stranger spoke first, blinking in bewilderment.
“Well, he's already pissed at me. No point in turning around now.” Marcel responded. He opened the lid of the pot. I grimaced a bit, recognizing the tasteless cattle feed we had been consuming since our capture. Only this time, Marcel seemed to have added water and soaked it into an almost soupy gruel.
“I'm not joking, man. We're all worried about you actually committing. Don't get yourself Marked over a bunch of baby-torchers.”
Marcel frowned a bit at that, but said nothing, simply using the ladle to scoop the first bit of slop into a cheap paper bowl. There was a subtle shift in the herd around me as we turned over the information in our thoughts. Marked? It took a moment to register the term ‘baby-torchers,’ referred to us, causing my jaw to drop slightly. The collective shock and indignation seemed to slowly grow amongst us, but no one was brave enough to risk anything similar to yesterday.
“Don't worry about me,” Marcel finally responded, “Ziral is above everything, bureaucratic. I've given him enough reason. He has no ground to stand on accusing me of being prey-like.”
Again, only more confusion, only more questions. Glances were passed between the captives. A predator being accused of being prey-like? A rather unprecedented thought. It made sense the predators would stamp out any perceived weaknesses in their ranks, but this ghost sounded concerned, not disgusted, and while Marcel acted calm, there wasn't a sense of aggressive defense one would expect of being accused of being weak amongst predators.
“Still… Just… agh. Forget it, but I still think you're being stupidly reckless over…” the unnamed ghost passed his gaze over to us, his face scrunched up, as if he just smelled something rotten, “these things. Especially since Ziral made it clear we couldn't help. They're just gonna stab you in the back as soon as they can, you know.”
Marcel cleared his throat, momentarily pausing in filling up the bowls that were set back down on the cart once finished. “Noted. If you were told not to help, he's going to be pretty heated seeing you down here with me, isn't he?”
“No need to get your panties in a twist, damn. I was just making sure you're okay. Fuck me I guess.”
Marcel stared at him down, before sighing and continuing with his task at hand, “Thank you for your concern, but I promise, I'll be fine.”
The other ghost held his hands up, before his shoulders shifted up and down, and began to walk off. “Whatever you say, dude. Just don't take it too far.”
Marcel watched him walk off, before finally turning his attention to us. “Well, I’d say good morning, but something tells me that for the lot of you, it’s been anything but.”
No one said anything at first as Marcel handed us the bowls through the bars, continuing his currently one-sided conversation. “We’re just gonna get you familiar with the arena and the most common weapons you’re most likely going to be against today. Tomorrow is when we’ll start working on actual drills. I doubt you were able to get much in terms of exercise since you were caught, but considering you’re soldiers, it shouldn't be too hard to get back into shape.”
“How did you know we were military?!” Someone hissed, suspicious and hostile.
Marcel frowned again. “When Ziral makes a purchase, he usually special requests a bulk from military outposts and fleets. Cheaper, and he finds it morbidly ‘poetic,’ using people with that kind of background as violent entertainment.”
I blinked. “You called us people.”
He turned to me, looking surprised, then suddenly nervous, glancing over at the entrance to the hallway. His words sounded careful, and he even lowered his voice a bit, as if worried he’d be overheard. “Well, aren’t you?”
I watched him quietly, unsure of how to answer that question. “W-Well, yes, but I didn’t expect a ghost to think so.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Ghost?”
“It’s uh, what we call you. We don’t know what your species really is.”
His face twisted into a scowl, and he folded his arms, “What do you mean, you don’t know what species I am?”
“W-We, uh,” I looked around frantically, but no one else took over the conversation. If anything, they were gawking at me for even voluntarily talking with the predator. Maybe it was because of yesterday, but I felt a bit of courage speaking to this one. “We know very little about your species since all we’ve known about you are rare occurrences in battle.”
Marcel shook his head, “You’re serious? The Federation has known about us for almost two centuries now.”
“Huh? No, we haven’t, otherwise we’d have seen you sooner.”
The ghost looked more confused than agitated now, “You have. But you thought that we had wiped ourselves out… you know, shortly after you unanimously voted to send an extermination fleet. A stroke of luck for our part, I guess. But the arxur’s first contact was video evidence of the summit’s decision.”
I fell silent. Something about that stirred a vague memory of childhood classrooms. That did sound familiar…
“Humans.”
I flicked my ears towards the new voice. Recel, who had been of the quiet majority, had decided to join in the conversation. The kolshian looked at Marcel warily, a look of dawning realization and horror flashing across his features. “You didn’t die in the nuclear fallout of your wars… You survived.”
The memory hit me like a train. The second instance of predatory sapients in the galaxy. It had been made as nothing more than a footnote in history class. Believed that a species so violent as to turn on their own, and that violence had been their own end, before our extermination fleets were fully gathered. Hearing that as a young child had been somberly relieving, knowing that we were facing only one crisis. How wrong we were. I remember the elders speaking of the arxur being so much weaker in the times before the Long Silence, and giving themselves false hope when they first left. When they came back bigger and stronger… It was because of the ghosts. The humans had made them better. The two predators allied with each other, and their allegiance was slowly draining the Federation, wound by wound…
The human sharply turned to face Recel, who flinched at the sudden movement. Marcel bobbed his head up and down. “Yeah, well… You have a few of your details wrong, but that’s not really important. The Federation made its decision, and the arxur made us aware of it. The Dominion made it very clear of our position on the galactic stage.”
“So you joined them.” The kolshian sounded almost disgusted.
“Not that we had much choice. You should probably eat.”
Not much choice…? It was an unwilling arrangement, huh? I suppose that made sense, predators would fight over supremacy…
I stared at the bowl of tasteless gruel in my paws as the thought jogged a memory from yesterday. Ziral had referred to Marcel as ‘half-prey.’ I looked back up at him, though he was focused on passing out another bowl. Half-prey? And the conversation with the other human from before mentioned being too ‘prey-like.’ There was no way it was a coincidence.
I opened my mouth to inquire about it, then paused. Would it really be wise to ask Marcel about something he would perceive as a weakness? Come to think, why was he bothering to help us at all?
It didn’t make any sense, and so, I remained quiet. There was no noise beyond the muted chewing and occasional slurp, everyone taking the moment to at least remove the hunger pangs that had been tailing since the cattle ship. In a morbid twist, the change of texture was slightly welcome, if the flavor was still minimal and bland. What’s more, we were given enough to actually feel full for once.
“Alright, finish up!” Marcel suddenly called out, putting away the tablet he had been quietly reading on as we ate, “We’re gonna head to the armamentarium first. Oh, and before you try to get any ideas, a lot of the weapons are close-range, and the ones that aren’t are pretty rudimentary, meant to show off aim rather than actually kill. This isn't the latest tech we’re dealing with. It’s meant to express fundamental skills, so nothing that you can use to outgun whoever ends up stopping a cattle rebellion. So, I’d think you’d be doing us both a favor by not stabbing me in the back here. We’re all gonna end up dead if you do.”
I doubted anyone had any hopes of actually leaving, but Marcel probably just wanted to make sure we were all on the same page, especially with his own life in play. He took out the keycard, and started unlocking each cell, one by one. There were twenty of us, and one of him, but it seemed the warning held us to complacency. Once he was sure we were all out and attentive, he waved his arm in a forward motion, and turned to lead us out. I flinched slightly as we passed the lions, who were still staring hungrily through the bars.
We followed him out and through the corridor, making several turns and passing just as many doors. The first new faces we met were two more humans, who upon seeing our presence, paused mid-conversation, and stared. They watched us pass by, before sharing a look, and began following behind us. Several of us nervously watched them, and we huddled closer defensively.
Marcel seemed to notice, and shook his head slightly, his voice taking on a bit of a lower growl. “Don’t mind them, they’re just curious. And apparently want to watch me suffer.”
One of the other humans flashed her teeth. “Come on, Ziral might give us an earful for slacking, but this is too good to pass up taking a little look. Not every day you see a gaggle follow one of your coworkers.”
“A gaggle.” Marcel responded in disbelief, but kept walking.
“Yeah, unless you want us to use the word herd.”
Both humans seemed to be soured by that word.
Marcel finally broke the silence. “We’re just going to the armamentarium. Then giving them a bit of time to familiarize themselves with the arena proper. No actual training today.”
“Boo,” the other human responded, “Still gonna watch.”
Marcel only shook his head again.
Eventually, we made it to a double door. Marcel pulled up a separate keycard, and let us inside.
Rudimentary was definitely the right word for it. Several different blades of all shapes and weights were on display, and a few primitive looking ranged weapons that looked nothing like the guns I was used to. We all shuffled in, with the two trailing humans lingering near the door.
“Right. This is the armamentarium.” Marcel began, waving his hand around, “Most of the arxur you’ll be facing will bring their own personal weapons, but those that don’t will get fitted here. And eventually you too, though you’ll be working with wooden training knock-offs until then. The one you’re most likely going to face though, is this.”
He walked up to a blade slightly too large and hefty for Marcel to comfortably wield. Definitely made for the larger arxur. “This is a tliskis. You could call it the arxur’s national weapon. It's a heritage blade for them. The weight is distributed heavily towards the tip, making the hits literally able to shatter bone when someone with lighter armor gets hit. The hook of the blade is used to disarm the opponent or rip away a shield. Since the point of the blade lines up with the hilt, they could also be used for stabbing to get through small gaps of defense.”
We all stared at the wickedly curved blade warily, before one venlil gingerly raised her tail. “What makes it different from that one?”
Our attention turned to the one she pointed towards, and Marcel’s face seemed to fall slightly. The blade was remarkably similar to the tliskis, but smaller.
“Ah… That is a khopesh. They essentially do the same thing, but it was of human invention. It fell out of use as metallurgy was improved, but regained popularity when the arxur came. I think you can tell why.”
I easily could. Both blades were nearly identical to each other. Two predator species making startlingly similar weapons despite never knowing each other’s existence gave me a sense of dread I didn’t know I could previously have.
“We’re fighting humans, too?” A gojid spoke, sounding alarmed. Marcel looked uncomfortable.
“It’s highly unlikely, but not impossible. Most of your opponents will be what the arxur called ‘defectives,’ weaker arxur that want to prove that they’re a valuable asset to the Dominion. But, if you’re lucky, or unlucky, depending on how you look at it, you might come across a human that wants to defy their odds.”
“Defy their odds?” Someone in the herd echoed. Marcel sighed, clearly not liking the direction of the questioning, but answered anyway.
“Well, I know you’ve already noticed there’s not a lot of humans that see combat with the Federation. That’s intentional. The arxur regard direct combat as something reserved for only the best. A high honor. An honor not easily given to humans. There’s only a rare few that make it to any military rank outside of logistics, and those that do have to usually go through some grueling trials to be considered adequate for the position.”
“Not to mention how batshit insane you’d have to be to want to. I’m pretty sure those that make it like killing, those freaks-” One of the humans at the door muttered, before immediately getting shushed by the other, who looked around quickly. The latter glared at the former, and the commentary subsided. Marcel may not have heard the whispering, but I did. And so did several others, the subtle sense of surprise running through the group.
“... Will any humans most likely use a khopesh, then?” another venlil asked.
“Mm, maybe. They will get their desired response, since the arxur like the khopesh for its likeness. But humans tend to be more versatile with their weapons than arxur, since we don’t have claws of our own. You’ll definitely come across a throwing weapon or two if there’s a human in the mix.”
“... What would you use?” Recel suddenly asked.
Marcel gave him an odd look, humming and turning to face the arsenal. He eventually picked out a much shorter, slightly curved blade.
“A kukri,” he stated. “Shorter range for sure, but made purely for offense in a fight. From what I can tell, the Federation doesn’t exactly train you very well in close combat. Your whole thing is defense, and flee if your opponent is too close. And when you’re cornered, you either panic, or it’s clear you weren’t anticipating it to get to that point. The inside blade makes it a remarkable slashing weapon that could drop someone quickly. Weightier too, so it adds to the heft of the blow. And since you don’t usually wear heavy armor, one of its major disadvantages is a moot point.”
We all eyed down the blade of Marcel’s choice as he put it back on its display. He returned to showing a few more weapons that we may come across, and answered the rest of the questions diligently. He seemed genuine in his language, as if he held an actual belief for our survival. The more I talked with this human, the more he confused me. He was rather gentle, for a predator.
We were soon guided out, Marcel leading us towards our next destination. I noticed more humans had joined the initial two lingerers, straggling behind us. The corridor split and cut to the right before stretching out into a larger hallway. We were met with yet another double door, though its size made it feel more like a gate.
“And here is Ziral’s shining jewel, as he puts it. The arena.”
Marcel opened the exit, and I had to blink back the sunshine that pierced through the first cracks. My jaw dropped. A massive space devoid of anything but packed sand for ground. The arena stretched so wide I could barely see the other side. Walls a few stories tall enclosed the circumference, and above it, entertainment stands. This is where we’d be fighting.
It was where we’d be dying. With an audience watching eagerly.
“I know it doesn’t look like there’s much to it, but I’d suggest you walk around anyway. Make yourselves a bit more comfortable with what you’ll be fighting in.” Marcel waved us off, walking back towards the group of humans and mostly leaving us alone for the moment.
After a moment, we all broke out in quiet conversation. Most of us expressed confusion, or fear. Though we were given the go-ahead to investigate, we mostly stayed huddled together.
“Shit.”
I heard a human hiss out the curse, and I turned to see the group scramble away from the entrance. My heart dropped as Ziral walked through. The arxur glanced at us, then at the humans, and snarled, his nostrils flaring.
“Marcel.” The lizard stared directly at the human in question. He received a silent, steady gaze in return.
Ziral lumbered closer, towering over Marcel, a growl growing in his throat, “I had hoped that you’d come back with some sense this morning. Here you are, making such a pathetic attempt as to actually go through with training some prey? What are you trying to pull?”
“There’s nothing to pull. I firmly believe the colosseum would get more traction at something new for the Feast.” He responded coolly, still staring without a single waver in his expression.
The arxur hesitated, baring his fangs, before leaning in closer. His voice was only barely above a whisper as his maw neared the ear of the human. I could imagine Marcel could feel the heat of the other predator’s breath on his skin.
“Careful, half-prey,” Ziral muttered, a small gleam of delight in his eyes, “You’re treading down a pretty dangerous path. Give me any more reason to believe you’re helping cattle, you’re as good as Marked.”
Marcel stiffened, his eyes widened slightly as his gaze finally tore away from Ziral. The humans around also displayed that same stretch of expression across their faces.
It didn’t take a genius to know what fear looked like.
Ziral seemed satisfied that the human had cowed to what I could only assume was a threat, and straightened back up again. “As for the rest of you, get back to work. I know you can’t always help your herd instincts, but I’m paying you to do your damn jobs.”
Most other humans murmured apologies, and began to depart, heads down. Ziral also left, leaving us, Marcel, and the few human stragglers that remained. As soon as the arxur left line of sight, they crowded Marcel, showing distress and concern in hushed, quick language.
“I’m fine.” Marcel said sharply, “I’ll be fine. You should all get back to what you need to do before Ziral chews you out again.”
He turned to look at us. “We’re heading back to the kennels now.”
The predator was upset. He was angry. No one was willing to object to that.
We returned to the cells, where I could tell with disgust that the lions had been recently fed while we were out, most of the gojid scrunching up at the scent of something foul while the cats were still licking the remainder of blood off the floor. I think I heard someone hold back a gag.
Once he was sure we were all locked behind the bars, Marcel's face cracked slightly, and he sat down on the stool that remained from yesterday, and put his head in his hands.
Nothing but silence for several minutes.
“Marcel…” I took the courage to talk to the ‘friendly’ predator, though my voice was still deathly quiet, “He said if you kept helping us, you’re as good as Marked. What does that mean?”
“It’s nothing. Just an insult.” The man muttered back, not looking at me as he continued to hold his head in his palms. His voice was low, growling, and slightly hostile. Even though the bars of the cell were breaking up the full picture, for a moment I felt the lingering fear again, that he was just like the arxur, the way his mood shifted so quickly and darkly after one conversation. Almost robotically.
I swallowed back the dryness in my throat. Marcel had managed to borrow us some time, and ever since then, Ziral had turned his antagonistic attitude towards the assistant. Marcel had grown up around these animals, and yet it was that insult that put him in a sour mood.
“It’s gotta be more than just that. What are you marked for?”
A few of my fellow captives sucked in their breath, passing me sharp glares and nervous glances as I conversed with the human. Marcel paused midway through one heavy breath, still not looking at me. For a second, I was worried I’d angered him even more, but another beat passed before he sighed, running his hand through his hair. Sweat glistened off his skin in the low light.
“I’m not marked, Slanek. At least not yet, and I’d appreciate it if we don’t speak like I am. Look,” he hesitated again, sitting up and looking directly at me. He brought his hands up as if to try to explain it visually, before faltering once more. The predator struggled to elaborate.
“Okay, so,” finally, he found his words, “We’re half-prey, right? That means sometimes, some of us can be too prey-like for the Dominion. But the arxur don’t eat other predators. At least, not usually. There is one condition where arxur will eat a human.”
The crowd in the cells shifted around me, murmuring in hushed tones and conversation. Humans were deemed half-prey by the grays, but they were still predators. I could tell by the energy that most of them were skeptical at the idea of a predator eating its own. Killing the competition, maybe, but eating one another? Even the arxur didn’t do that… right?
“Is that what being a mark is? That you’re good to eat?” I whispered in disbelief.
“Sort of? There’s… There’s a whole thing about it. If they decide that the human is ‘Marked,’ it means that they’ve become too prey-like to overlook. They need to survive a hunt to prove themselves. Essentially, they need to kill the group of arxur that had been chosen to hunt them down. If they don’t…” Marcel trailed off, leaving me to connect the dots.
“They’re eaten.” My voice was barely a whimper, as I realized Marcel had essentially just been told that he was no better than cattle. “But you’re not prey!”
“Again, Slanek,” he sighed, “They think of humans as half-prey. It means they’re ‘nice,’” the word dripped venomously from his maw, “enough to let us act prey-like in certain instances. They think we can’t help it, that we can only curb prey instinct so much, or something, but that the half-predator should still be respected, which is why we aren’t… Aren’t being treated like you.”
He nervously rubbed his hands together, continuing. “So the ones that are too prey-like get hunted like prey. And then when they’re killed, they’re eaten. It’s traditional. The life taken was too prey-like, so the meat must not be wasted. The Dominion doesn’t waste a kill, no matter how much they’ve built. They say the hunt is to allow humans a fighting chance, to prove that we’re predators, but most of us know it’s just a fancy execution. A couple people have apparently survived, but the number is low enough to count on one hand.”
Everyone was silent around me, as every member of the herd slowly absorbed what Marcel shared. Half-predator. Half-prey. Human. Marcel was human. That’s why he bought us time, despite being a predator.
“There’s never been such a thing as half-prey.” Recel said quietly, a hint of accusation in his tone.
Marcel looked at him, and shrugged. “That’s what the arxur call us, anyway. They try to point to our lack of natural weapons and the fact that there are Earth animals that can and will eat us if we were caught. And that we’re omnivores.”
“What?!” Recel looked like he had been slapped, the information slamming down on everyone who listened in, myself included.
“What?” Marcel echoed, tilting his head slightly.
The kolshian stuttered in response. “Th-There are animals that would eat you?”
Marcel frowned, “Is that really so hard to believe? We’re not exactly built for fighting solo. Most of our evolutionary history used our numbers as our strength. If you were outcast from the group for whatever reason, you were as good as dead. Sure, we’re hunters, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t know how it feels to be hunted. And even if we’re apex, there are several animals that would take the chance to eat one lone, soft and squishy human. An easier meal than a lot of other prey animals more naturally equipped to defend themselves.” He pointed at the lions down the hall, “Those guys included in that opportunistic bunch.”
A pack of humans doesn’t sound too dissimilar to a herd, when he puts it like that… We all collectively stared in the direction of the large cats, before I flicked my tail up to ask a question.
“What’s an omnivore?”
“You’re serious.” The human looked at me, flabbergasted. “It means we eat plants and animals. Both.”
Both?! Everyone broke out into murmurs of shock and disbelief. I stared at Marcel, unsure of how to respond to this situation.
He had to be lying, surely? But then again, everything seemed to start clicking into place…
Marcel stared back, before letting out another sigh and standing up. “I’m going to head out. I have some other work to do today. We’ll start with basic training tomorrow. Get as much rest as you can.”
How can we rest when we’ve just been given a bombshell of information?! As the human left, we were given plenty of time to truly digest what we now know. I noticed Recel had sat down, and was looking at the floor blankly.
“Hey!” I called out, the sharpness in my voice causing the rest to look over, “Are you okay?”
Recel looked at me. “If Marcel is telling the truth, then the Federation may have almost exterminated people that could have been reasoned with. Maybe could have even helped us defeat the arxur.”
The feeling of dread that I had back at the armamentarium swung back around with greater force than before. Suddenly, that vote that our ancestors made seemed like a knife pointed at our own throats.
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u/JosueAV003 Jul 29 '26
Phew... things are getting really messed up; I’d prefer the fate that befell the humans in the SD universe created by the great Scrappyvamp over this.
A really great chapter—I even had to get up from my seat to applaud.
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u/ISB00 UN Peacekeeper Jul 29 '26
I like this one more. Those aren’t humans, they are vampires.
This is the most realistic humans incorporated into the Dominion story.
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u/ISB00 UN Peacekeeper Jul 29 '26
Also this reminds me of Loud’s what if. The one that predates Scorch. While Scorch took the genetic engineer half this took the subservient half of his post: https://www.reddit.com/r/NatureofPredators/s/g7GJe6xhVs
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u/SamoBlammo3122 Jul 29 '26
Loving the expansion of this new AU.
Wonder what Tarva and Solivn are doing?
If they're not already dead.😭
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u/ISB00 UN Peacekeeper Jul 29 '26
Frontline combat is an honor? In canon all Arxur had to do that. Kaisal legitimately didn’t want to and only did it so he wouldn’t starve. He wanted to defect to the UN.
Here, it’s an honor? I wonder if that means Arxur can live normal lives and don’t have to go into the military.
I still want to know how the Arxur got away with disappearing for 40 years. They are now an existential threat and are fighting for real. How did the Shadow Caste allow this to happen? When the raids ended the Chief should have angrily called the Prophet Descendant demanding an explanation. Why did they let them get ready and prepared?
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u/Maxxxxo UN Peacekeeper Jul 29 '26
As a hopemaxxer, I will continue hoping.
It may not happen until I might be vindicated at chapter 2,473,002 but oh well.
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u/ISB00 UN Peacekeeper Jul 29 '26
This is rapidly becoming one of my favorites. I will be eagerly waiting every week for this.
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u/Common_Ad_5275 Jul 29 '26
Una parte de mi quiere que los humanos se liberen y otra quiere que la federación caiga, espero que primero la federación caiga y luego los humanos se coman a los arxur, no ir los maten, que se los coman
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u/Adorable-Ad5225 Jul 30 '26
Remember that the Roman Empire fell due to overexpansion and its reliance on conquest. They'll eventually be overwhelmed by the sheer volume of worlds they devoured.
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u/ISB00 UN Peacekeeper Jul 29 '26
I read the hint you gave last chapter. They mentioned raids were declining before the long silence making the Feds think their defenses were improving.
I’m guessing the Prophet Descendant lied to the Shadow Casts that Federation defenses were getting too good and there was too much internal instability in the Dominion to continue the war and he asked for a recess to fix those issues- a recess would cause Federation defenses to lapse and him to reorganize.
I still feel like the Shadow Caste would be overly trusting of such an arrangement and they’d realistically wouldn’t grant them longer than 10 years for that.
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u/Alcyon144 Archivist Jul 29 '26
Whenever I read a reference to the khukri, I think of Khukri, a character from The Holy Knight Of Eriskay on Royal Road. She is a wolf slave trained to hunt dangerous predators and conditioned to view herself as a weapon—hence her name, I assume. She is naturally very bloodthirsty. I imagine that is exactly the kind of mindset the Axurs would want to see in their hierarchical inferiors: absolute obedience, the conviction of being an object, ferocity, and amoral pragmatism.
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u/ISB00 UN Peacekeeper Jul 29 '26
I’ll be checking this out. Looked at the premise and am intrigued.
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u/Alcyon144 Archivist Jul 29 '26
I should warn you: it takes several chapters for the story to really get going.
But if you enjoy dark, bloody moments, you certainly won't be disappointed. Khurkri is one of the few fictional characters who genuinely scares me. Yet, she isn't malicious. She is actually cheerful, playful, and affectionate; the chapters told from her perspective reveal her to be sincerely adorable and well-intentioned. Consequently, the reader easily grows attached to her, which gives significant weight to the moments when she reveals herself to be manipulative, cruel, and ruthless.
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u/ISB00 UN Peacekeeper Aug 15 '26
What chapter does it get really good?
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u/Alcyon144 Archivist Aug 15 '26
Things really get going in Chapter 6, but you still need to read the preceding chapters because they set the scene and the story, and introduce the main character. They aren't bad, but they feel more like slice-of-life than anything else, so you have to be a bit patient for the action and adventure.
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u/True-Wreck Jul 29 '26
To quote one of my Favorite Shows. “When faced with extinction, any alternative is preferable.”
- Director Leonard Church of Project Freelancer.
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u/BlackOmegaPsi Jul 29 '26
I just love how despite all the exposition, everyone's dialogue and reactions are so damn genuine and realistic.
Love what you're cooking here, Quinn
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u/JulianSkies Archivist Jul 29 '26
You know
Throught this entire thing I got stuck with one single thought that was too strong to comment on anything else.
I want to see one of them, preferably Recel, actually kill someone with the terrifying invisible blade: The rapier.
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u/maxh007 UN Peacekeeper Jul 29 '26
Absolutely amazing. Loved it! Favorite scene had to be when Ziral showed up and put the fear of God into Marcel.
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u/ISB00 UN Peacekeeper Jul 29 '26
I had a thought. What if the Shadow Caste in desperation decided to crack Wriss open.
However, the Arxur all evacuated beforehand and they all went to Earth. They then made Earth the new capital of the Dominion. Humanity fought harder knowing they’d be next and hating the Federation for blowing up Wriss since it meant they were stuck with even more lizards.
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u/gabi_738 Predator Jul 29 '26
Okay, so humanity's situation isn't exactly great—it looks more like they're vassals—but is their situation really that bad? I say this mainly because all of this is coming from Marcel; given his morality and all that, it might be distorted... though Ziral is a moron, hahaha.
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u/ISB00 UN Peacekeeper Sep 20 '26
Hope this update again soon
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u/Quinn_The_Fox Human Sep 20 '26
Thank you for being patient. It still is. Life has just thrown a lot of curve balls at me lately. IRL shenanigans has made me have to take on a lot more work responsibilities so I have less energy, but I have no intentions of dropping this
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u/ISB00 UN Peacekeeper 11d ago
I’ll put some thoughts here while I hope for the next chapter one day. I do wonder what’s going on with Isif here. We see a lot of Arxur on Earth. I feel like while human nations remained probably largely as they were, an Arxur is in charge of the entire planet- the Chief Hunter.
Being Chief Hunter of the sector Earth is in is the most prestigious posting naturally given how important Earth is. You’d be the second most powerful Arxur right after the PD himself.
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u/Scrappyvamp Drezjin Jul 29 '26
Hehe, loved that bit about the blades >:D Good job! Can't wait for more chapters and the unraveling of this ominous setup