Warlord Conquering (The Great Insurrection Book 3) by David Beers (best historical fiction books of all time txt) 📗

Now was the time, and it would bring a host of new dangers, but she'd known long ago what it would take to achieve her goal.

The only other person in the universe had been the man who modified Alistair. The work he'd done could have killed the former Titan, but Alex had kept the faith. She'd known she had chosen correctly.

Now was the time. It had to be, or all was lost.

Using the rest of her mental strength, she shouted at Alistair, Now! Become!

There were three people on the wall, all of them firing endless shots into the mass of people.

Relm was severely injured; plasma had blown off half his shoulder.

Faitrin and Servia were still moving, still shooting, but they both knew the battle was lost. Caesar was still fighting, though one of his arms had been shattered. Ares had fallen from the sky and was lost from view.

Servia couldn't even see Prometheus, and above it all, the man they'd come to save floated on a chair, eyes swollen shut and body broken.

They'd lost. Servia kept firing. Her StarBeam overheated in her hand and burned her flesh, but she didn't stop. She wouldn't stop until she was dead.

Servia aimed, then paused. She felt a wind, which shouldn't be possible, not in this underground stadium. No weather could make it this far down.

Her pause only lasted for a single moment because there was an explosion in the middle of the crowd. She didn't know if it was wind, fire, or earth, only that giants and other people rose into the air. They flew off their feet and rose five or ten meters in the air. Some smashed into the top of the stadium, bending metal and breaking their necks. Servia felt herself rise too, and she slammed into the wall behind her.

The force held her there, pushing her arms and legs against the wall. She dropped the StarBeam. Dead bodies rose into the air, as well as dirt and dust—everything but one person.

Prometheus was on one knee in the middle, looking at the ground as if nothing was happening around him.

Bodies slammed into the wall next to Servia, and she heard their bones crack. Bodies rolled across the ground. Everything was moving away from the center of the stadium, away from the man who was somehow causing it.

Prometheus stood, his red eyes staring at this new world. Blood dripped from his body.

Servia’s bones started to creak. He was going to kill them all. Whatever he was doing, it was too much. He had to stop.

"PRO! HELP US!" she shouted into the wind roaring past her.

The man with the red eyes blinked.

Everything dropped. Servia fell to her hands and knees, then looked up. Prometheus was marching forward, looking for someone among the wounded and dead. Servia was having a tough time catching her breath. The pressure had knocked it out of her.

She tried to scramble forward but fell on her stomach, so she lay flat while she watched Prometheus. He stopped above the Titan in the crimson MechSuit, then bent and picked the man up, something that was impossible for a regular human.

He carried the dying Titan to one of the giants, and Servia heard his cry from across the stadium.

"Heal him!"

The giant was lying on his back, but he slowly rolled over and got to his feet. He could have pummeled Prometheus, the man still holding the Titan.

Instead, the giant said, "Yes, master," and placed his hand on the dying Titan's stomach.

The insects flowed from his hand and latched onto Ares.

Epilogue

Alistair kept mostly to himself over the next week, although he checked on the wounded in his party to make sure they were healing. The gigantes had done the best they could in the yard. Not a single one raised a fist to Alistair after he'd done what he'd done.

They followed his commands and healed his wounded as well as theirs, though at that point, they were all his. The humans who survived were granted life. All the fight had gone out of them. Out of everyone, including the underworld leader.

He, the man named Manius, understood that any war was now unwinnable. He faced extermination, so at that point, he offered his help to Alistair. The medbay was open to them, the medical droids available, and his crew was given a place to stay. He just asked that when they left, they told a different story than what had actually happened.

Alistair didn't give a damn about the story. He wanted to rest.

The AllMother and Obs were brought inside the fortress, but Alistair didn't visit the old woman.

He remained with Obs in the quarters assigned to him. He knew what had happened. He had heard the AllMother shout in his mind, then felt something entirely new. His mind had attacked. It had seen everyone as an enemy and ripped forward without caring. His mind had done what it took to protect him.

It was a power Alistair didn't want. He didn't understand it, and it had almost killed those he loved.

At the end of the week, he went to the AllMother. He'd kept tabs on her, having Servia update him from time to time on what was happening outside his quarters. Alex had rested a lot and now acted like nothing special had happened. She didn't seem disturbed in the slightest.

Servia, for her part, was awestruck. She didn't mention it, but it was in the way she moved and the way she spoke, as if Alistair had changed from the man who had arrived here.

He didn't mention it either. He wanted to wait until he spoke to the AllMother.

Alistair didn't knock, just entered and shut the door. She was sitting in a chair and staring out a window on her right.

"Did you know I was coming?" he asked as he put his hands on the back of the only other chair in the room. It was pulled up to the left