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This is the third novel in the TORTH series. Thank you for sticking with the adventure, while I rework my books for publication. 

And thank you for taking a chance on me as an author. I know Wattpad offers lots of original and fresh content, and amongst all the Sci-Fi geared towards teenagers, my novels seem to be a niche of a niche of a niche. Not first person. Not in school. Aliens. Superpowers. Galactic setting rather than post-apocalyptic or dystopian. Main characters who are exceptional rather than every-day Janes or Joes caught up in an unusual situation. No love triangle (well, wait until later...). And you can probably tell that I am obsessive about grammar/spelling.

If you're new, here's a synopsis of the first two books, "City of Slaves" and "Colossus Rising." 

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The Torth always get what they want. Trillions of minds are networked in a galactic utopia of intellectuals who use their near-omnipotence to enslave all spacefaring civilizations. Anyone who dares to question a Torth—or worse, defy one—will suffer death by torture.

Only Thomas escaped that fate. The Torth Empire reviles him as the Betrayer: the renegade who defied the mental network in order to rescue savages and slaves. Although Thomas is dying and can't walk, he's a powerful mutant, and his freed allies include Alex, the giant with illegal superpowers. Teamed up, Thomas and Alex have liberated a slave farm.

However, their unexpected victory roused the military might of the Torth Empire, which has sent slave-fueled armadas to invade Earth and to catch the rebels. Thomas and Ariock must stretch their capabilities in new ways, or else armored Torth will stomp out any possibility of freedom in the galaxy.

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Alex was the darkness and the wind. Thousands of ships and transports were his bodily organs. His arms slid into the massive walls that encircled the spaceport. Launch pads, terraces, bridges, docks, and walkways became his many fingers. 

Electricity snapped along the wires that had become his nervous system. Bluish webs of electricity spiraled off him and slammed into transports.

When he flexed his metal shoulders, piers and bridges rippled and broke. 

Torth fell, screaming, to their deaths. They tumbled downward through the immense hollow center of himself, grabbing for help and finding nothing. Bodies broke on the hulls of transports. 

The gunfire intensified, so he gathered air and flung it into a funnel, sucking everything downward. One wall of the spaceport began to sag inward, cracking the oculus, letting in rays of sunlight.

His inhuman mouth formed words. "DIE, TORTH."

The force of his breath ripped struts off walls, sending transports crashing into each other. The distant core of his body registered screams that didn't quite sound like Torth screams, but they were small. Trivial. All that mattered was death to his enemies. Triumph, or else he was dead.

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