Greater Than All [removed] Torth #5

Prologue: Stormed By Hope

Something crashed in the distance.

Crystalline orb-lamps glowed due to a sudden absence of sunlight. The Torth in the spa suddenly looked alert. They all sat up in unison, some with soapy hair, their blank white eyes more open than usual.

A thunderhead towered beyond the huge windows and sky domes.

Lightning arced over the floating city.

Byiyi had never seen a storm roll in so fast, and this was the sunny season. Strange. But a storm was none of her—

Action exploded around Byiyi.

Torth leaped out of pools, splashing water. They ignored proffered towels and robes, and lunged towards their clothes, reaching for blaster gloves. Many slipped or skidded on the wet floor. Torth in a hurry were ungraceful.

Thunder cracked. The concussive sound was so close and loud, Byiyi jumped.

A titanic god fell out of nowhere, seemingly from the air itself.

He wore black armor that bristled with immense, jagged spikes. Lightning snapped across his massive chest plate and shoulder caps and thorny gauntlets. He landed on his feet with a terrific thud. The air smelled freshly seared.

The titan straightened to his full height, which was overwhelmingly tall. He was massive enough to blot out some of the storm-dark sky.

If he had a face, it was hidden. The faceplate of his helmet was as black as night.

A loose collection of electricity gathered in his armored hands. The electric glow grew denser, brighter, evolving into a weapon.

A spiked mace.

The Torth were panicking. What sort of colossal being could cause gods to act like frightened slaves?

Byiyi hurled herself beneath a towel rack and tugged towels around herself. She folded her spindly arms and legs, ratcheting her many joints closer and closer, trying to keep them out of harm's way. Other slaves claimed that she looked like a bug, but that was an insult. She was as sapient as any slave. She just happened to have more joints than the common species.

Nude Torth sprinted for the exits. One slipped on the soapy floor and slammed down.

An unseen force yanked that Torth off his feet.

Byiyi hardly paid attention to the violence, because she noticed a small person—a slave?!—aim a blaster glove at one of the fleeing Torth. She stared. Slaves were not allowed to touch weapons.

Yet this one wore a weaponized glove, like a god. He even wore armor.

The slave thumbed the trigger.

His target reacted as if struck by a metaphysical blow, and fell to his knees in a defeated pose.

The slave triggered the glove again and again. More Torth gave up and dropped. A few of the fallen Torth tried to crawl away, but mostly, they sat in puddles and looked hopeless.

Byiyi stared at the slave with the blaster glove, which looked custom-tailored for his three-fingered alien hand. Instead of wearing rags, or a gray spa uniform, this ummin was padded with embossed armor. A half-helm with leatherwork flaps framed his beaked face.

Most striking of all: He was not afraid.

Several Torth took aim at the ummin slave.

The armored colossus slammed his mace into the threats, knocking them away. He struck so swiftly, one of the gods ended up embedded in a marble wall. The impact made the room shake.