The Behemoth Treaty

Prologue

 Two thousand years he had been encased in ice. Two thousand years the Behemoth had guarded his body, meant to have been encased even longer deep in the middle of Greae. But it had taken only two thousand years to break out. The feeling of being utterly helpless and trapped was suffocating.

He was not built for this. His species were ultimate. HE was ultimate. He would not be imprisoned by some lower-class species. In his ice prison, he could feel life growing around him. The Behemoth had bred and made babies and planets. And if he reached further, he could feel the bubbling threats. Threats that didn't realise they were threats.

Baby Celestials. The other Celestial bodies had perished. Now there were just these ones. It gave him some satisfaction in this icy catacomb that the disease he had made had killed the other Celestials. They had probably known it was he who sent the deadly disease. It had given him some pain to have to kill his son, but sacrifices had to be made.

And his son was still out there. Well, his power was. In one of the last remaining Celestials. There were two left. The sick one, and the half one. The half one was his son's.

Rage simmered under the surface of the ice, and cracks appeared before it had shattered into a million pieces. The Behemoth had done its best to put him back in, but it was weak with age and hunger and had died in a messy puddle of blue blood.

Now he was free. He, Chizo Crushworm of the Celestials, was free at last! He could feel in its roots that Greae was devoid of any life, minus the budding plants that had adapted to its lack of oxygen. That didn't bother him, either. He was eternal. Eternal, and hungry.

Hunger had gnawed at his stomach for two thousand years, and he realised that even though he was eternal and even though he didn't necessarily need nourishment, this vessel did. His bare feet scrapped across the soil and he shovelled handfuls of it into his jaws.

The Behemoth's blood had given the soil a rich taste, one that eased his hunger quickly. Greae's air was freezing cold, and he could feel his vessel shivering. He had been naked when he was put into his prison, and he was naked now. Cold, and naked. He stood and began to walk, occasionally reaching down to spoon soil into his mouth.

He would have walked the entire planet had it not been for a whirring. He looked up and a craft was making a careful landing.

He reached in and felt there were life forms in there. Not Celestials. But life forms. And these life forms had a dark centre. The ship landed carefully on the blood-soaked soil and doors opened, shining off the Behemoth's gore.

Figures stepped out and he felt repulsion shrivel his core, though that core was far, far away. One was a bronze female (a Sundaires, how interesting) with a rats' nest of hair, and a shrivelled face. Her core was dark and angry. But he could see she was fertile, and he could practically feel her goal: be pregnant as much as she could and suck the lust from everyone.

Beside her was a Lodoss, a hideous one. His nose was disproportionate to his face. It was probably bigger than his entire body. Everything about him screamed lustful. The way he held himself, the suggestive tilt to his head, his eyes glinting, the way his collar dipped a bit too low, and even his trousers' colour.

Chizo knew these two were extremely promiscuous. He almost gagged. They slowly approached him, and even though Chizo could feel other life in the craft, nobody else came out. They came up to him, and even the smell of sex and lust stuck to them. He thought for a second they were about to jump on him and attempt to fornicate him. But instead, they bowed.

Yes, bowed.

He had been bowed to before, but this was different. They bowed in worship, not fear or status. "My Lord," the Lodoss said, lifting his head, his nose flopping carelessly from side to side. "It has been agony waiting for you." Chizo could see the lust in his eyes, but it was being controlled. "We were coming to break you free, but find you have slain the Behemoth and set yourself free."

"We serve you, Master," the Sundaire said, her arms trembling as if she were excited (or battling the urge to pounce on him). "Command us, and we shall do as you please."

Chizo liked the sound of that. He had commanded an army once. His powers had helped him craft super warriors. And they resided on his planet, where he made more and more and more. Anything weak was weeded out. Nobody could be weak. Nothing could be weak.

But they had lacked anything but one thought; protect Chizo. He had never had minions who thought for themselves, or did anything other than fight and kill. Whilst it was a liability, it was still...interesting.

He raised his chin, his eyes hard and unforgiving. "First, I need clothes."