Anthem's Fall

Chapter Seventy Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Vengelis

Vengelis watched Gravitas rub his fingers over the enormous dark red marks left by Darien's arm on his neck. Tiny capillaries had ruptured under Nerol's skin and left deep purple blotches. Together the two of them lingered over the clustered rooftops and spires in a momentary respite from their struggle.

"You killed him for trying to help you?" Gravitas called to Vengelis over the roar of the streets.

A gust of wind touched Vengelis's face and he could feel its presence thicken the blood running down his cheek. The thumping of his pulse was sending surges of pain past his forehead to the back of his skull and down his back. It took all of his willpower not to visibly wince from the sharp pain. He was encouraged by Gravitas's battered state, but he was in no better condition.

"Darien had no place interfering in a fight beyond his abilities," Vengelis said.

"So you killed him?"

"I'm a man of principle, Nerol, even if you choose to believe I'm simply a tyrant. I have the courage to act on my convictions; a trait in which you and I are evidently alike, I suppose."

"The only thing you and I have in common is that neither of us belong here, and very soon one of us won't be."

Vengelis smirked despite the pain coursing through him.

"Your troops are gone. You are alone. Once again I offer you the choice to leave," Gravitas said. "Go back to Anthem and forget this place exists. It's a win-win: this planet can return to life as normal, and you can return to your throne."

A dismal and rumbling laugh emerged from the bottom of Vengelis's chest and spilled out of him. "You think those crude fools Hoff and Darien had any effect on my chances of survival—or yours? Don't insult our power, Gravitas Nerol, you're a son of Royalty."

"I take no pride in my power, and neither should you."

"Spare me," Vengelis said. "It was the power of our blood that allowed for our race's survival. If it weren't for the Sejero strength you seem to be so ashamed of, our ancestors—along with all of Anthem's natural life—would have been used as mere fertilizer for the Zergos, our entire history and existence blown to oblivion in a day. Instead we—we —rose up and defended our world. I would think you would exercise your Sejero gifts with a greater degree of respect. I mean for god's sake you've spent the last four years pretending to be one of them. How can you live with yourself? You slander and turn your back on all your ancestors fought and died for."

"My ancestors!" Gravitas shouted and pounded a finger to his own chest. "Fought for the cause of those weaker than themselves. They protected a fragile world from a gross enemy that was otherworldly and ruthless. Today I believe I follow in their footsteps."

Vengelis's mouth fell open. "How dare you compare me to the Zergos, Nerol. You go too far. How dare you! You are nobody, a pathetic nobody hiding from his gifts and his responsibilities. Nothing but a stale, conventional fool filled with the opinions and platitudes of weak men," Vengelis said, his face turning red. "Men too weak to act. I am emperor, Nerol. And I need to act now, not for my own whimsical interests, but for the good of my people. I alone can do this, or my—our—existence will fall."

"The people here have an expression that might interest you, emperor: 'With pride comes the fall.' "

Vengelis looked down at the riots below. "A lot of good that logic is doing them today, these noble savages of yours."