Planet Ignis | Chapter 11

... heroes and villains, their stories entwined within the game.

Even in peaceful societies, shadows sometimes fall—and the specter of death can lead some astray. Such was the case with Asher, the Slaughterer, who remains the most notorious figure in Burrows’ history. His heinous crimes sparked horror throughout the settlement, but it was only through the bravery of Chrinos, captain of the Golden Guard, that Asher’s reign of terror was brought to an end.

These two figures form a unique pair in Longevity Chess, their cards reminding future generations of the fear Asher instilled and the courage Chrinos displayed. Drawing either card brings their storied legacies to life, with Asher’s malevolent influence and Chrinos’s steadfast heroism at play in the game.

From “The History of Longevity Chess” by Eli, the Flarewalker

“Eli! Wake up!”

At first, Eli thought it was a dream. But as his master’s hand rocked him awake, the urgency sank in.

“Master? What’s going on?” he mumbled, blinking away sleep. The sudden wake-up was jarring, especially for someone who’d grown used to managing his constant hunger with discipline.

“We’ve been summoned. Get ready. The Council will meet shortly.”

“But I’m only seventeen,” Eli protested, rubbing his eyes. “Aren’t Council members supposed to be at least thirty?”

“You’ll attend as my aide. It’s a chance to watch and learn.” Trother’s tone brooked no argument.

“What about my morning classes?”

“You’ll still have time. School doesn’t start for another four hours.” Trother nodded toward the door. “Now hurry. We don’t want to keep the king and the others waiting.”

Eli stumbled out of bed, tugging on his clothes as he followed Trother down the tunnels toward the heart of the Burrows. Excitement bubbled under his sleepiness. Today, he would finally see the Throne Room. He’d heard stories of the legendary screen, the globular throne, and Faren itself, but he’d only ever seen the smaller spheres that served as its ambassadors.

The Throne Room was unlike anything he’d imagined. He’d expected a perfect sphere, but the chamber was rough and organic—a natural formation, which was unusual in the Burrows, where spherical rooms were the norm. Most of the Council members were already there, seated around a U-shaped table facing one of the walls.

Eli’s gaze was immediately drawn to the centerpiece: a large metal globe containing a man. Thick cables connected the globe to the wall, and at the end of the cables, he finally saw the legendary drone.

At the sight of Faren, Eli’s throat tightened with awe. He’d taught classes on the last seven and Fahrenheit itself, but seeing it up close was completely different. The AI drone was a massive metal sphere embedded into the wall, with four appendages extending from its sides, reminiscent of a creature from old Earth—spider, or maybe speeder, he wasn’t sure. Its lights blinked rhythmically, computing the vast calculations needed to manage the Burrows’ inner workings.

Nanites rolled in and out of the AI, exchanging data, recharging, or setting off to fulfill their assignments. The drone’s endurance, its ability to function centuries after the settlement’s founding, spoke to its extraordinary resilience. Eli felt a surge of pride knowing some of his own energy had gone into powering this technological marvel.

When he finally looked back at the globe encasing the king, his respect deepened. Faren managed the king’s Longevity in ways no other battery could, extending Brodnir’s life far beyond natural limits. Catching Brodnir’s gaze through one of the globe’s windows, Eli offered a quick bow. The king smiled and winked, a warm reminder of their meetings in the Nexus. Eli was surprised by how small the throne looked; he’d imagined it far grander.

What is it like, Eli wondered, to be confined in that metal sphere, waiting to serve your tribe? He couldn’t begin to imagine the patience and endurance it required. His admiration for Brodnir only grew.

Then he spotted Zawa among the Council members and waved. She returned his smile, radiant as ever, and he felt a thrill of joy. Trother noticed, smirking beside him, and Eli’s face flushed. He nudged his master with an elbow, trying to hide his embarrassment, though he could still feel the warmth spreading over his cheeks.

Soon, the last Council members arrived. Eli counted fifteen in total, sixteen if he included Faren. There were four Yellows with two apprentices—Zawa among them—Trother and Eli, three other Lits with their apprentices, and, of course, Brodnir, the Blue King of the Burrows.

“Why are we hearing about this now, Faren? It’s been years!” thundered Brodnir’s bass voice. One could only imagine what his voice would sound like if not limited by the frequency range of the globe’s speakers.

Before Faren could reply, one of the Lits spoke up. “My King, communication protocols are a very low priority in Faren’s system. With such limited computing power, we’ve had to set priorities. There’s no point in keeping our ears open to the stars if our hearts have stopped beating. Besides, we’re only permitted to send a message every few years, and there’s little point in checking for responses too often.”

“By the flames! This is the Raptor we’re talking about! Shouldn’t there have been measures in place to ensure we’d know sooner if it was spotted again?”

When Faren mentioned the Raptor, Eli noticed his master—who had never lost his composure—gulp and shift uncomfortably in his chair. Eli’s stomach tightened. He’d rarely seen Trother display any sign of worry.

“King Brodnir, after Borus, the late Blue King of the Centigrade Settlement, pronounced the Raptor deceased, communication protocols were assigned a lower priority in our computing cycles. We only include it in a cycle every decade to share updates, news, and breakthroughs between settlements. We ran that chat cycle yesterday,” spoke Faren’s metallic, emotionless voice, steady and toneless.

Eli loved how Faren spoke. Its droning, mechanical cadence was so different from a human’s. Legend had it that, once, Faren’s voice had been almost indistinguishable from a person’s. But the program that enabled such a resemblance took up precious space and computing power, so it was deleted long ago to make room for essentials.

“But for two settlements to have been destroyed in such a short time?” Brodnir’s frustration echoed in the room. “This is a catastrophe!” Watching the elders look lost and confused, Eli felt a strange pang of disillusionment. For the first time, he realized they did not always know what to say or do.

Brodnir turned to Trother. “What do you have to say?”

All eyes turned to the oldest member of the Council.

Trother’s gaze was steady. “We received one transmission from the Anaximander Settlement. It didn’t have an AI ID tag, so we can infer it was sent from the settlement’s Lighthouse. That means at least one person survived long enough to send a distress signal, which suggests they could put up a fight—not for long, though, or the message wouldn’t have been cut short as it was.

“The only indication of the Leevs’ downfall is that their beacon went dark. This time, there was no record of attempted contact. We can assume that, while the Anaximanders were able to respond somewhat to the threat, the Raptor decimated the Mendeleevs before they could even send a distress signal.

“According to the accounts of the Great War, the Raptor would often spasm and behave erratically in battle. Its mind was so overloaded that it barely had space to think, let alone fight. That’s how we threw it into a Flare Zone in the first place.

“We can only conclude that the Raptor has learned to corrupt drones and take them over. It is faster now, and it has grown more powerful with each invasion.”

Eli gulped, his pulse racing. Could the Raptor really be stronger than the Blues? What hope could there be for the last two settlements, then?

Trother turned to the drone. “Faren, did we pick up any signs of an electromagnetic pulse caused by a blue Burst?”

“Negative.”

Trother’s face darkened. “That would mean their Blue Monarchs couldn’t even put up a fight. He has found a way to neutralize Blues.”

Eli’s eyes widened. To defeat a Blue? The words echoed in his mind, cold and hollow. What hope do we have?

“Members of the Council…” Faren’s voice cut through the silence, its calm almost reassuring amidst the murmurs and shifting figures around the table. “I must report that we have received an additional transmission.”

“What do you mean?” exclaimed the captain of the Golden Guard. “Don’t tell me the Raptor has destroyed the Centigrades as well?”

“This transmission is not in Ignian. It’s in English. It was sent three months ago. None of the settlements signed it.”

Trother stood abruptly, his voice sharpened with urgency. “How? Who sent it?”

“The message is signed by Dr. Hitori.”

For the first time in history, Eli spoke in the Council. His voice was an involuntary whisper. “Impossible!”

Chapter 12