In the shattered remains of the Nightrender, deep within the void of space, the High Matron plotted her vengeance. Her grotesque, biomechanical form pulsed faintly, drawing energy from the fragments of her ruined ship.
Through the psychic link that connected her to the remnants of the Inphel fleet, she summoned her commanders. Their visages, transmitted across the ether, bowed before her.
"The traitor Pepsi and her brood of abominations must be eradicated," she croaked, her voice filled with venom. "And humanity's arrogance will be extinguished alongside them."
Her words were met with affirmations, the Inphel commanders eager to carry out her orders.
The High Matron gestured with a mechanical appendage, bringing a holographic projection of Earth into view. Glowing markers appeared at key locations—major population centres, New-Inphel lakes, and critical geographic regions.
"The planet's surface is fragile," she explained. "A precision strike with dreadnought-class warships will shatter its crust, triggering volcanic eruptions and plunging the world into an ice age. Neither human nor New-Inphel will survive."
One of the commanders hesitated. "High Matron, such an act will also doom our forces on the ground."
Her glowing eyes narrowed. "Their sacrifice will ensure the survival of the Inphel species. Those who cannot adapt are unworthy of our legacy."
The commanders bowed their heads in submission. "It will be done."
Across the remnants of the Inphel fleet, the massive dreadnought-class warships stirred to life. These colossal vessels, each the size of a small city, were equipped with reinforced hulls capable of withstanding atmospheric re-entry.
Their engines roared as they set course for Earth, their trajectories calculated to maximise destruction. From orbit, they would descend at terrifying speeds, their impacts unleashing enough force to rival the asteroid that ended the age of the dinosaurs.
As the ships prepared to deploy, the High Matron watched with grim satisfaction. "Let them feel the weight of their defiance," she murmured.
On Earth, strange phenomena began to signal the impending catastrophe. Meteors streaked across the sky, their fiery trails visible even in daylight. Seismic activity increased near the New-Inphel lakes and major cities, causing panic among the population.
At Camelot, Arthur convened an emergency meeting of the Vanguard. "The Inphel are planning something catastrophic," he said, his tone grim. "We need answers—and we need them now."
Fantasia, her glowing eyes scanning data from orbiting satellites, interjected. "It's not meteors. It's their ships. They're aiming to use them as weapons."
Bandruí's expression darkened. "They mean to destroy the world itself. If those ships hit, the fallout will kill everything—human, Inphel, and New-Inphel alike."
In the lakes, Pepsi felt the High Matron's psychic presence like a shadow pressing against her mind. She gathered her children, her voice filled with urgency.
"My children, the High Matron seeks to destroy us all," she said. "She will not distinguish between us and humanity. We must stand with them—or perish together."
Some of the hatchlings looked at her with fear, while others bristled with anger.
"Why should we fight for them?" one of the rebellious hatchlings demanded. "They hate us as much as she does."
Pepsi's voice was firm. "Because hatred cannot be allowed to win. If we fight for ourselves alone, we will fail. Together, we stand a chance."
In Camelot, the Vanguard worked furiously to devise a plan to intercept the dreadnoughts before they could reach the surface. Fantasia presented a bold idea.
"We use their own technology against them," she said, displaying schematics of an Inphel warship. "If we can infiltrate one of their vessels, we can hack into their navigation systems and redirect their trajectories."
Swift Angel crossed his arms. "And send them where?"
"Into the sun," Fantasia replied. "It's the only place that can contain the energy of their destruction."
Arthur nodded. "Then we have no time to waste. This mission will require precision—and sacrifice. But it is our only chance."
Despite their efforts, the first dreadnought reached Earth before the Vanguard could act. It slammed into a remote region of Siberia, the impact creating a shockwave felt hundreds of miles away. The force triggered volcanic eruptions, sending ash and debris into the atmosphere.
In Camelot, the ground trembled as reports of the devastation poured in.
"This is just the beginning," Bandruí said, her voice tight. "If more of those ships land, it will plunge the planet into darkness."
Arthur's gaze hardened. "Then we'll stop them—no matter the cost."
As the remaining dreadnoughts hurtled toward Earth, the Vanguard launched their mission. They boarded an Inphel warship with the help of Pepsi, whose psychic link to the High Matron's forces allowed them to bypass initial defences.
The team fought their way to the ship's navigation core, the battle fierce and unrelenting. Firebrand's flames scorched the metallic halls, while Shadowleaf's arrows found their marks with deadly precision.
Pepsi confronted the ship's captain, her glowing form a stark contrast to his grotesque features.
"You would sacrifice everything for her madness?" she demanded.
"She is our mother," the captain croaked. "Her will is absolute."
"Not anymore," Pepsi said, her voice resolute. With a surge of psychic energy, she overpowered him, gaining control of the ship.
As the Vanguard redirected the dreadnoughts toward the sun, the High Matron's psychic scream reverberated through the fleet.
"This is not the end!" she roared. "I will rise again, and all who defy me will suffer!"
On Earth, as the last dreadnought disappeared into the sun, the skies began to clear. The threat of annihilation had been averted—but the scars of the High Matron's wrath would remain.