In the bustling command center of the Umbra Space Fortress, screens flickered and displays buzzed, displaying an array of galactic information. An urgent, piercing alarm suddenly cut through the chatter, causing the officers to jolt in their seats and turn their attention to the main screen. The once organized room was now a hive of frantic activity.
The grand doors of the command center burst open to admit the High Warden. His eyes scanned the room, immediately seeking answers for the cause of the alarm. "Report!" he demanded, his voice echoing through the chamber.
One of the officers, a younger dark elf stepped forward hesitantly. "High Warden, we've detected an unidentified ship making its ascent from the planet's atmosphere."
The High Warden's piercing eyes narrowed, his face darkening with concern. "What kind of ship? Details, now!"
The room's tension palpably rose as the seconds ticked by, officers whispering amongst themselves and checking their monitors. The aforementioned officer cleared his throat, choosing his words carefully. "It appears to be an interceptor class vessel, High Warden. Moreover, it's equipped with advanced cloaking technology. I apologize for the oversight; its stealth capabilities made it challenging to detect promptly."
The High Warden's face contorted with impatience and anger. "Incompetence!" he snapped. "Deploy our fighter ships. I want that vessel intercepted and halted immediately."
The officer's voice cracked slightly as he responded, the weight of the situation weighing heavily on him. "Yes, High Warden, we have already dispatched a squadron to intercept."
The frantic atmosphere in the room only intensified. Officers exchanged nervous glances, beads of sweat forming on their brows. Their worst fears were realized: the cloaked ship had managed to break the planet's atmospheric boundary. The fortress's defense system had projected the trajectory of a dozen triangle-shaped fighter ships, converging towards the cloaked vessel. But to their collective dismay, the ship evaded their grasp, activating its hyperdrive, leaving only a shimmering trail of stardust in its wake.
The High Warden's rage was palpable. His chest heaved, and his fists clenched. A prisoner escaping on his watch was an affront to his honor, especially considering it had been a century since such an incident last occurred.
"HOW?! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!" he roared, directing his ire towards his officers.
One brave officer stepped forward, gulping audibly before speaking. "Sir, we received a communication from your deputy on the planet's surface, authorizing the ship's departure. By the time we observed the escalating battle below and realized the gravity of the situation, it was... too late to intervene." His voice trailed off, bracing for the High Warden's reaction.
The High Warden's voice was filled with seething rage as he barked the order, "Activate the visual feed. Show me what's happening at the Demon's Pit!"
The officers scrambled to comply. In seconds, the expansive main screen of the command center illuminated with a live visual of the planet's surface. However, instead of a clear image, they were met with an astonishing sight: a vast, shimmering dome of swirling energy, stretching over the area in question and obscuring the view.
The High Warden's eyes widened with disbelief. "By the eternal night! What is this? Those Voidstalkers, How dare they mess with my planet!!"
As the image remained distorted and visibility near zero, the High Warden made a swift decision. "Send the fighters down!"
Hoping to penetrate the barrier, a squadron of twelve sleek Trident-type fighter ships, along with a Seraph-class vessel with ten dark elves warriors on board, began their descent toward the planet's surface. As they approached, the visual feed showed the enigmatic dome of energy beginning to dissipate, fading away like mist under the morning sun.
The renewed clarity unveiled a sight that startled the command center's occupants. Where once the majestic dark elf citadel stood tall and imposing, there was now nothing but devastation. The ground was littered with the lifeless bodies of the elite void stalker unit. Amidst the ruins, a lone figure stood out, its silhouette unmistakably that of a half-wolf, half-man beast.
The High Warden's breath caught in his throat, recognition flashing in his eyes. "It's him". Emery's half-blood lineage made him easily identifiable, and memories of prior encounters filled the Warden's mind.
Without a second thought, he bellowed, "Eliminate him!"
With deadly precision, the fighter squadron, along with the imposing Seraph ship, locked onto their target. Laser cannons, charged and ready, unleashed a barrage of energy bolts toward the half-wolf figure on the ground. The air was thick with tension as brilliant beams of light raced downward, each one a harbinger of destruction.
But as the dust settled and the explosions ceased, the communication relay buzzed to life with an infuriating report: "High Warden, the target evaded our assault. The void stalker leader, however, wasn't as fortunate."
The High Warden's face contorted with frustration, his attention solely on the elusive half-blood. "Find him!" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the command center. "Where has that beast disappeared to?"
With the absence of the soul imprint, locating anything on the Demon's Pit surface was difficult. The Dark Elves had to resort to their primitive senses, relying primarily on their keen eyesight.
The relative calm in the control room was shattered as the visual feed displayed one of the Trident ships erupting into a fiery explosion. The High Warden's gaze snapped to the screen, his eyes narrowing with a mix of shock and fury. "By the abyss! what took down our ship?"
Before anyone could respond, another explosion illuminated the screen. Then another. The ships were falling like dominos. It wasn't long before the realization hit them: Their target, the wolf-beast, wasn't just evading; he was attacking. The visual feed captured glimpses of the creature, leaping with incredible agility and disappearing, only to reappear elsewhere – a method of spatial blink, mastered by few.
The speed and unpredictability of the beast made him a moving target that was almost impossible to hit. The ships, unsure of how to proceed, began to fly in erratic patterns, hoping to both evade and detect their aggressor. However, their tactics proved futile as two more ships fell victim to their target.
Then, in a bold move that left the command center in shock, the half-wolf beast blinked directly into the Seraph ship, the largest and most formidable of the fleet. The High Warden could only listen, as the sounds of combat echoed from the ship's communication line. He could hear the shouts of his crew, the clash of weapons, and the beast's growls.
Making a snap decision, the High Warden ordered, "Recall the Seraph ship, now!" His reasoning was straightforward: If the ship left the planet's atmosphere, Emery would either be trapped in the void of space or, better yet, within the clutches of the High Warden upon landing.
With bated breath, the command center watched as the Seraph ship slowly ascended, making its way out of the atmosphere. But something was amiss. The usual reports and status updates from the crew were conspicuously absent. The ship was silent, save for the faint hum of its engines.
"Bring it aboard immediately," the warden commanded with a sternness that left no room for hesitation.
As the massive doors of the hangar began to open, the warden, flanked by a dozen of his elite guards, formed a formidable line, their weapons poised and ready. They were prepared for a fight, ready to subdue the half-wolf beast.
The hum of the Seraph ship's engines grew louder as it gently touched down. With a hissing sound, the ramp of the ship descended, revealing the darkened interior.
But as the guards entered, they were met not with the fierce growls or lunges of a beast, but an eerie silence. Spread across the floor were the lifeless bodies of the ship's crew, the warden's trusted Magus elves, with no sign of injury, but with faces contorted in terror.
The warden's gaze darted around, searching for any hint of the beast, "Search every corner!" he barked.
For an agonizing hour, the elves combed through the ship. They deployed every detection tool, used every tracking spell, but it was as if the creature had vanished into thin air.
Just as the frustration reached its peak, a grim-faced messenger approached the warden. Handing over a small holographic device, he relayed the troubling news. The ten elves on the ship were victims of a potent, rapid-spreading disease.
The warden's face turned ashen as he heard the name. The virulent diseases were known to wipe out a civilization in hours. And now, one of the deadliest strains was aboard his fortress.
Panic rippled through the ranks as the implications became clear. Not only had the warden lost his crew and failed to capture the prisoner, but he had inadvertently exposed his entire fortress to a catastrophic contagion.
In a desperate attempt to contain the outbreak, quarantine protocols were swiftly enacted. But it was too little, too late. Dozens of elves began showing symptoms, and within hours, the number surged to hundreds.
Whispers spread among the ranks, turning into murmurs of dissent. The once unshakeable reign of the warden was now questioned. This event, brought on by a lone half-wolf beast, became a stain on the illustrious history of the dark elves.
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