Page 119 of Scorching the Alien Empire (The Klendathian Cycle #7)

With no better plan than crying myself into a coma, I set off down the corridor, sparing not a single look back.

More awkward glances from the passing Smurfs—whether it’s the red eyes, the tear-streaked mascara, or the fact I’ve got a sleepy Todd plopped onto my head like a brain-sucking parasite, I don’t know.

Still, I forge ahead, face buried in the glowing blue map, letting it guide me. Because I no longer trust myself to do the right thing anymore.

Somewhere beneath the pain, a tiny flicker of something dares to rise—hope? Maybe Divine Mother hasn’t abandoned me. Maybe redemption is still possible despite my colossal screw-up.

Please, Aenarael. Just one more chance.

The map leads me to a wide doorway. I step inside.

And freeze.

Whirling gears. Crackling arcs. Metal limbs dancing like evil spiders. Machines folding together murder-orbs with eerie precision.

The factory. A murder-orb-making hellscape.

My stomach clenches. My breath catches. Flashbacks flicker—unresolved MBSD igniting.

But then—I see them. Bitch Brick. Sandra. Standing in the corner. Laughing. Smiling. Sharing a joke like old friends at a brunch table serving betrayal.

My heart drops. My blood ices over.

No. No, no, no.

Not here. Not them. Not together. Not when I’m like this.

Do I leave? Hell no. Why should I be the one to leave? She’s the one who brainwashed my friend. If I’m already a loser, I might as well burn her down with me.

My fists clench. Breath shortens. A fire ignites inside me—dark and ancient. Hatred. The real kind.

I storm forward, itching to wipe that look off her dumb, deceitful, Plain Jane face.

Closer now—they see me.

Bitch Brick’s smug composure flickers into something else. Surprise, maybe. Sandra—my sweet, freckled, brainwashed friend—goes from shock to bright-eyed cheer in under a heartbeat.

“Oh! Hi, Lexie. We were just waiting for Consul Juliara. I was telling Rocks that story—you remember? When Dracoth turned your dress pink by accident?” Her eyes sparkle. She even giggles. “Also, uh... why is Todd plastered on your head?”

I freeze. That memory was sacred. Private. One of the precious moments between us when we were at our lowest.

And she’s giggling about it? With her?

“Really, Sandra? Really?” I hiss, my voice leaking like a gas line about to ignite. “That was ours . And you’re laughing about it with fucking Bitch Brick? ”

“Hey!” Bitch Brick snaps, her scarred face twisting into faux outrage. “I don’t know what the hell your problem is, Alexandra, but you need to calm down before you do something stupid.”

She exhales slowly, face smoothing out like she’s the patron saint of smug yoga teachers.

“Listen, why don’t we put all this behind us and move on? We’re human women, remember? Abducted by giant aliens!” She extends a hand, even chuckles . “We should stick together. I’d love to hear more about Todd.”

First Sandra. Now Todd. Is she going to turn him against me too? A clacking bug hat of betrayal? What’s next—my skincare routine? My soul?

She knows. She made Sandra tell her. The ultimate bitchy gossiper. That memory wasn’t just a cute story. It was a test. A mockery.

They’re laughing at me. At Dracoth. At us . The vote was never fair. The game was rigged. And now she’s flaunting it. Sandra’s not just gone—she’s her ginger sock puppet.

A wildfire blooms in my chest. Sadness and rage swirl in equal measure. Through the bond, I feel Dracoth’s fury—the heartbreak. The burning shame. It mirrors my own.

His crimson inferno fans the silver storm inside me. Mercury and fire. Rage and ruin. Our bond, a blood-red halo encircling my soul. I reach for it. Let it coil around me—a tender caress. A scorching agony. Let it ignite me. My divine match.

If I’m going to burn—then so be it. Let this bitch burn with me.

She deserves this. I deserve this.

The world sharpens. Every sound muffled beneath the hum of divine energy thrumming through my bones. A stunning clarity, I’d forgotten existed.

I raise my hand—fingers trembling, lips curling into a smirk. The intoxicating power flows through me, spilling from my eyes in righteous plumes of vengeance.

Bitch Brick recoils. But it’s too late. My divine shields crash into existence—solid light forged of spite and righteousness. They slam into her, forming a crushing cage that snaps like divine jaws.

UFF!

She gasps as the walls close in, pinning her in place, flattening her like a spiked pancake drowned in Plain Jane syrup.

“You took everything from me,” I snarl, stepping forward, eyes glowing. “ EVERYTHING. But you won’t take Todd.”

My fingers clench. The cage tightens. She thrashes like a rat in a trap, clawing at the walls with frantic, scraping fingers.

“You can’t escape. I can crush entire worlds.” I smirk, savoring her rising panic. Loving this power. The Mr. Frowny Face murder bond juice flowing through my veins. The lust and joy for life reigniting like a supernova within me.

Her gaze blazes purple-hazel. Divine mist spills from her eyes like poisonous perfume. “ RELEASE ME! ” she commands—voice echoing inside my skull, like psychic shrapnel.

It hurts . Like being dunked in Arctic water and electrocuted at the same time.

But then—Todd’s rune flares. Blinding silver. Atop my head like I’m a walking ambulance with sirens blaring.

Bitch Brick stumbles. The words fizzling from my mind like bad song lyrics.

“Good job, my little Chug Bug,” I coo, petting Todd’s plump belly. His clackers twitch proudly. “You see? I’m his bug-mother. Me. Not you. You fucking Munchausen wannabe .” My eyes flash crimson-silver. The shields constrict. Bitch Brick lets out a pained, wheezing gasp.

“How does it feel, huh? Being on the receiving end for once?” I sneer. “Hurts, doesn’t it? You look surprised.” I laugh . High, cracked, and furious, fingers igniting my scorched runes across my chest. “Divine Mother chose me . She called me daughter. Not some loser-turd having a midlife crisis.”

Bitch Brick’s eyes widen. Her voice cracks. “That’s... why I can’t... read your thoughts.” She gurgles the words between agonizing gasps. Each syllable is music. Lexie’s number one smash hit: ‘Choke on It, Bitch.’

“Lexie, STOP! You’re going to kill her.” Sandra lunges in panic, grasping onto my arm like an aggressive red squirrel.

Being the Heifer , I tower over both of them—goddess-shaped and seething.

I try to shake her off, but she clings tighter.

The Kool-Aid’s long drunk, leaving only a ghoulish slave. “She’s pregnant, for fuck’s sake!”

I barely hear her. Just more lies. More whispered manipulations funneled from Bitch Brick’s brain stew. Todd’s glowing lighthouse antics prove it.

And anyway... it doesn’t matter. Bitch Brick deserves to suffer. Deserves to feel an ounce of the misery I’ve endured.

With a cry, I raise a hand toward Sandra. More shields shimmer to life. Their edges refract the harsh orange-blue light, gently encasing Sandra in a protective, loving hug she doesn’t yet understand.

“Don’t worry, my poor, simple Sandra,” I whisper, furious yet strangely detached. “I’ll stop her. And I’ll get my Ginga Ninja back. Just like before.” I smile. My eyes glisten.

“No, Lexie! You’re not well,” she shrieks, lost to her delusion, slapping her freckled hands against the radiant prison of love. “ Please don’t do this! ”

But I’m already turning back to the main event. To Bitch Brick, my lips quiver with renewed hatred. Look at her. The so-called High Chieftainess. Thief of minds. Queen of pity votes. Pinned like a smear of insect on glass.

Each wheezing breath from her crushed lungs sounds like a sat-on whoopee cushion. All that power—crumpled beneath me .

One more squeeze. One more twist—and she’ll pop like a zit no one ever wanted.

Then—

The air changes . Heavy. Electric.

A scream rips through the chamber—not sound, but power .

Krogoth.

He crashes through like a divine storm in armor. Cloak billowing. His purple-hazel eyes burning with utter fury, vortexes appear, shifting to become cosmic waffle fries.

“ PEBBLES !” he roars. My blood turns to liquid nitrogen.

His power tears the room apart—machinery crumpling, murder-orbs disintegrating in lines of pure annihilation. He’s massive and terrifying.

But I don’t run. I’m blessed by two Gods.

I. Am. The Chosen.

His celestial lattice rips toward me at frightening speed, devouring everything in its path in perfect clean lines—pressing the delete button on reality.

“Oh, fuck —”

Frantically, I throw up shields—then more. A dome of divine light, layered like sanctified phyllo pastry. An unbreakable phalanx that the entire murder-bot fleet couldn’t break.

Crash. Crash. CRASH.

Each impact is a jackhammer to the soul. The weight of the universe shattering my barriers. One. Two. Three. More and more. Each one a stiletto heel through my temple.

I scream. Push. Burn. Channeling everything Divine Mother and Father gave me. The blast slams into my last shield. A crushing weight, threatening to rend my mind to pieces.

Finally—a blessing from the Gods—his waffle fries of death disappear along with my last barrier.

I gasp. Trembling. Sweat-drenched.

“SEE? I AM THE STRONGEST! ” I laugh, high and cracked. “ I AM THE MOST BELOVED! ”

My legs wobble. Vision blurs. But I’m standing.

“Stop this, please!” Sandra shrieks from her glowing cage, slapping at it like a panicked hamster. “Before someone dies!”

But Krogoth Cringe-Eyes doesn’t look tired. Nope, not a bit. He stands large and in charge. Lively. My heart sinks to my frozen booties. He’s already summoning more vortex bombs, weaving them into tiny lattices this time—knives of void, aimed at Bitch Brick’s cage.

They slice forward, a cosmic hailstorm. I summon more barriers to fortify her prison. But they shatter like glass candy.

The cage splits open. Bitch Brick collapses to the floor, wheezing. Pale. Broken.

She lives .