Massimo's towering, augmented frame stood rigid before the command room's vast viewport. He gazed at the nearing, swelling "Barren Star," the third and outermost planet of the Devil system.
Beyond it, the Devil sun blazed with piercing light on the horizon.
Barren Star held profound meaning for him. It marked the pivot of his power's rise, thanks to the "Humanity Lab" nestled within, which had unlocked the secrets to bending humankind.
Conquering the Federation had shifted from a fleeting dream to a tangible goal.
He felt deep scorn for the Federation's creed of reason, democracy, and peace.
To him, life meant indulgence, conquest, and strife.
Anything less struck him as delusion and self-deceit. The Viper Legion's rise only reinforced his belief.
In this cosmos, survival demanded crushing others, whether beasts or beings, beneath the strongest will.
Nearly five millennia of reflection had laid bare this truth.
Across his endless years, he had hesitated just once: when choosing the near-fatal augmentation path.
Once he stepped onto that irreversible road, he knew fate bound him to war and dominion until the universe's end.
His ultimate aim was claiming every star system as his personal domain.
The Fallen Tycoon would bow to no one, not even Jacob. When that schemer outlived his use, Massimo planned to erase him without hesitation.
The sky darkened, shifting from violet-red to deep blue, casting a bleak, desolate chill.
Whenever Massimo beheld this boundless black void, a shiver of thrill coursed through him. Only this enigmatic expanse seemed worthy of humanity's eternal span.
In the sprawling command room, only Moa stood behind, poised for orders.
This formidable Augment, nearly Massimo's match in bulk but slightly leaner, served as both top general and strategist. He commanded a million-strong elite known as the Fallen Warlords.
Barren Star appeared as a mere ice-crusted rock, twenty times Earth's size, jagged and fissured.
Yet beneath its surface sprawled the galaxy's grandest covert military base.
Federation spies still groped blindly at its secrets.
His true might rested here; all else was a feint.
This thought swelled him with lofty disdain, as if perched atop power's peak.
For Augments, "sight" brought supreme joy. Their vision, tuned by brainwaves a thousandfold stronger than a normal's, could focus into "vision waves" that pierced alloy walls and bent around corners to unveil the unseen.
This offset their skin's dullness. Enhanced flesh numbed touch, robbing them of tactile pleasure, so sex became a feast of sight, sound, and scent, dooming Augments to perverse cravings.
Though stationed in the command room, Massimo and Moa's amplified brainwaves tapped the ship's "Libertine" super-AI. They drank a ceaseless data stream through it.
Not every Augment wielded this gift, for their ranks varied vastly. Massimo's primacy made him their undisputed lord.
Libertine fed them a fresh report. Moa spoke calmly, "Boss, that base escapee gives me a bad vibe."
He meant Michael, still a riddle. They couldn't fathom how he'd slipped a magnet-sealed cell or evaded flawless scans.
Massimo's golden eyes flared as he replied softly, "If I'm right, he's the one Predator hauled from Inferno. After Earth, he and Natasha hit Maiden, nearest us, and caught the Vipers' raid, sparking the Federation's win. Natasha stayed; Michael vanished here."
Had Aglaia overheard, she'd reel. First, the classified truth would stun her; second, Massimo's lucid calm clashed with the manic braggart seen on street screens.
Moa nodded in agreement. "I buy that, boss, which is why I'm uneasy. An unfathomable alien like him loose here could unleash anything."
Massimo's gaze sharpened as he countered in a low voice, "I see it differently. His uniqueness will betray him soon enough. Catch him, and we hold evolution's crown jewel. Then, Federation and Vipers won't matter; the cosmos will be ours."
Moa responded, "I'm less sanguine. Aglaia's cunning couldn't tame him."
Massimo whirled, cutting him off with a sneer, "Her flaw lies in a soft heart. In our hands, he'd have no chance."
He paused before snorting, "If he's human, he's frail. Who escapes our Humanity Lab? Our Claire?"
At Claire's name, even fierce Moa stiffened with reverence.
Her legend echoed even in the Federation.
Five centuries back, Claire had been the Institute's first Dean, with Li Wanxiu as her deputy. Deemed the oldest soul alive, she pioneered rebirth before vanishing mysteriously. Now she lurked here, helming the infamous lab.
Massimo eyed his aide, then shifted topics. "Rebel news?"
Moa grinned cruelly as he answered, "Those regretful fools plotting escape can't dodge our net. I've yet to nab their ringleader, so I'm holding off."
Massimo nodded, pleased, and mused before asking, "How's 'Trojan Horse' shaping up?"
Moa's eyes gleamed with excitement. "Smoothly," he said. "We've got the muscle and gear to hit Galaxy One. Only question: tell Jacob? Intel says he's plotting too."
Massimo scoffed in response, "Never. Whoever reins Aglaia rules the Federation. We're just using Jacob; we must strike first to stay ahead."
Moa saluted crisply.
The six-kilometer Fallen, twice Galaxy One's size, banked into Barren Star's shadowed flank. Stars glittered above while a thin atmosphere and patchy clouds faintly glowed below, lit by icy peaks.
The Devil Ray dove into a black rift and vanished swiftly.
Scarlett rose gracefully. Her long, sculpted legs beneath the short skirt struck a breathtaking chord.
She cast a sultry glance at Michael and Brian before swaying toward the door with captivating poise.
Michael and Brian trailed her alluring silhouette. He mused she'd mesmerize any stage, toppling hearts.
To him, forged on Inferno's brutal edge, sex meant mere propagation.
Only after devouring the Institute's novels did he grasp its richer delights.
Scarlett drew him, yet only on the surface. She lacked Natasha's radiant life-field, the true spark of his soul.
A life-field was energy's spectrum, mirroring body, mind, and spirit in wondrous complexity.
Scarlett's blazed strong but dulled grey, steeped in gloom. Prolonged nearness would taint him.
Normals missed these invisible currents and puzzled over the creeping malaise they wrought.
Michael, however, tracked their subtle dance.
Still, excitement gripped him. For a lone wanderer, any human touch felt novel and thrilling.
At the outer hall's door, he jolted and said, "Wait!"
Scarlett and Brian turned, startled. His senses screamed danger beyond.
Yet he wavered. Revealing his foresight risked exposing his uncanny gifts, a perilous slip.
Neither Scarlett nor Brian could be trusted; suspicion might doom him.
In this sin-soaked realm, self-interest reigned. Deceit and betrayal thrived as routine. If Massimo sniffed him out, his life hung thin.
Morphing his guise had drained him. Recovery lagged, locking him in this frail shell, easy prey for Massimo's hunt.
Scarlett snapped with displeasure, "Scared?"
He sighed inwardly and nodded. "Just nerves," he admitted.
Her eyes flashed contempt as she shot Brian a glare. Then she tapped the door open and stepped out.
She froze midstride, causing Brian to nearly crash into her back.
A voice boomed, "Boss lady! We've been waiting."
Scarlett paled and stared at dozens of men and women, some seated, some standing, filling her opulent hall.
Michael edged behind her and scanned the hostile throng.
Two factions stood clear. Twenty-eight wore gleaming silver, the women in tight, low-cut tops and shorts, exuding raw allure.
Their leader, a hulking man in a silver helm, sported a thick mustache. His glinting eyes oozed lewdness as he sat enthroned amid fawning lackeys, his chiefdom unmistakable.
Fifteen others donned black tuxes or mirrored shades. Seven women in deep-necked jackets bared half their chests, their skirts shorter than Scarlett's, flesh a siren call.
One sat among them, a tall, bald man, handsome, puffing a pipe. His fierce gaze savored them like trapped quarry.
They flanked the hall and boxed the trio in. Mockery gleamed in their stares.
Scarlett and Brian quaked, blindsided and outmatched.
Michael leaned to Brian and asked, "Who are they?"
Brian's teeth chattered, rendering him mute.
Laughter erupted from the crowd.
Someone jeered, "What drunk brat doesn't know Tiger Fang and Old Wolf?"
Michael recalled Scarlett's mention of these names. Understanding dawned: Undercity's twin scourges, now poised to crush all, awaited her here.
The silver-clad giant laughed heartily. "Boss lady, didn't see this coming, huh? Thought Red Hawk's backing freed you from us. I gutted him. Whose lap are you crawling to now?"
Scarlett moaned and trembled as she asked, "What?"
Old Wolf growled in a deep voice, "Deaf, slut? We smashed Red Hawk in the Death Arena. No bone left whole. Your crew flipped; they're ours."
He barked at Brian, "Kneel if you value your hide!"
Brian blanched, his knees buckling. Yet he held firm, speechless.
Tiger Fang's eyes glinted as he nodded. "Gutsy," he said. "Let's test those bones."
His goons surged but halted at his raised hand. He leered at Scarlett and licked his lips. After chuckling lewdly, he continued, "Pick ten studs here to ride you, gorgeous. Survive, and you'll work my brothel. Your fame will pack it day and night."
The mob roared with vile, brutal glee.
Rage flared in Michael. This was humanity's rot: kin slaying kin, a shameful stain. He stepped forward and smiled. "Touch our boss? Get past me first," he challenged.
They gaped and eyed this gaunt fool like an idiot. Scarlett hissed, "Back off!"
She brushed past and reached the hall's heart. Pleading pitifully, she said, "I yield. Whatever you lords want, service or obedience, I'm yours."
Brian rasped with a tremor, "Boss, they won't spare you."
Old Wolf bellowed, "Kill these punks!"
Tiger Fang countered with a shout, "Hold!" All froze and turned to him.
He grinned before saying, "Such a fun game. Where's your patience, Wolf?"
Wolf deferred and sank back, puffing his pipe. Tiger Fang's lascivious gaze roamed Scarlett's form. He barked, "Strip, wench! Show us why Red Hawk drooled."
Her chest heaved, and she bit her lip. After a pause, she reached to disrobe.
Michael agonized. To him, nothing trumped survival.
But flattening this lot would leak word. Massimo's web would snare him.
Fresh from Inferno, he'd have walked away.
Yet novels and Natasha's selfless valor had shifted him.
What could he do? Scarlett shed her top and bared pale skin. Men's eyes lit up. He sighed, and his senses stretched out.