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The force-field hums closed behind her - her only exit, cut off. The only step she can take, now, is forward...
“Your Majesty… thank you for joining Me.”
...Towards him.
Glimmer steels her nerves, and forces her eyes up. High up; the being called Horde Prime stands head and shoulders above her height. Those shoulders are nearly offensive; their breadth feels disproportionate, even on his towering frame. His arms are spread as wide as his smile.
“I thought you might enjoy a diversion,” Prime continues airily. Before she can respond, a massive hand engulfs her shoulder. Her heart leaps into her throat, and she stifles a gasp; to her taut nerves, that silver talon might as well be the blade of a guillotine. But the hand only guides her forward, at last giving her a view of the room beyond.
Like everything else on the Velvet Glove, this place is… breathtaking. The room is a high, narrow corridor with a soaring ceiling; its walls arc outward in the shape of a great diamond. Though the rest of the ship is unsettlingly empty, these walls are festooned with terrifying treasures: weapons, terrariums, alien artifacts... the mounted heads of unfathomable beasts. All are bathed in in pure white light, glittering proudly on display.
The weight of Prime’s hand leads her down the length of the display room. “Do you like them?” comes his resonant voice from above. She glances to the side, but quickly returns her gaze forward; this close to him, her eyes reach barely above his navel. Slate-blue skin gleams from the open chest of his robes, as proudly displayed as these trophies.
“Tokens,” he says smoothly, “from the many worlds I’ve brought into My eternal Light.”
She sets her jaw, voice tight. “Worlds you destroyed.”
His stride pauses. There is no force in his grip; but there is no give to it, either. The metal claw burns cold against her skin.
“Ah… such righteous passion...” murmurs that silky voice, “from a righteous Queen... who has never looked beyond her own borders.”
“You’re wrong,” Glimmer shoots back automatically. “I’ve travelled to every corner of Etheria. Every kingdom -”
The heavy hand lifts.
She turns back to look up at the Conqueror of Galaxies, looming high above. That eerily alien face smiles down at her, wearing an expression that seems almost beatific. The two secondary eyes blink slowly, first one, then the other. Waiting.
...Oh.
Heat prickles her cheeks as she remembers where she stands: on a vast alien spacecraft, floating in a vast sea of stars. Stars she never knew existed, until now.
“I take no joy in destruction.” The Prime extends a hand to a hanging terrarium, stroking the vibrant flower it bears. His low, resonant voice seems to curl around her like fingers. “You are a Lady of War, are you not, Your Majesty? Do you relish the deaths of your enemies?”
“I fight to protect my people,” Glimmer snaps.
“As any ruler must.” Prime’s expression has softened, his eyes turned to the flower. Gently, he slides his hand beneath its shivering stem.
Glimmer finds her pulse echoing that shiver - as if those spread, fragile petals are her own flesh, bracing to be crushed. Instead, his powerful hand softly cups the bloom, with a touch so delicate it seems almost reverential.
“Yes, the weeds must be burned away…” he murmurs, “that the garden may flourish.”
His hand withdraws from the flower, giving one last gentle caress to the undersides of its petals. A soft flick of the metal-tipped claw leaves it trembling, filigree tendrils swaying in the air. Glimmer at last releases her breath - only now realizing she’d been holding it.
She takes a steadying inhale, willing her regal composure to return, willing her hands to stop shaking. “We are not the same.”
“Indeed not, your Majesty,” he purrs. Then, with a graceful sweep of his skirts, he glides on.
Fists clenched, she follows him to the central display at the end of the room: a beautiful glass orb, hovering in a column of light, spinning gently. “This one is my favorite,” he says lightly, lifting the orb from its mooring. “A treasure from the first world I cleansed. It was highly prized by its people… and now, ...it is all that is left of them.”
He holds it out to her; numbly, she takes it. Its weight is surprising, and the smooth surface is oddly warm beneath her fingers. Her throat feels dry. She swallows, remembering the taste of the blue gelatin she had eaten not long ago.
“S-save your threats.” She musters her voice, willing it steady. “I - I will never join the forces of evil.”
For a moment, the Prime’s smile flickers. A tiny spark of victory warms her chest; at last, she has caught him off guard, cutting ahead of whatever script he had planned for this farce. In the next moment, that warmth dissolves - as his low, resonant chuckle fills the room.
It is not the high, sharp cackle of a madman; nor the sinister, theatrical laugh of a villain. The Emperor of the Known Universe laughs with natural, genuine mirth - as if they are dear friends at brunch, and she has just told a charming joke.
“I admire your conviction, child.” He shakes his head, chuckling softly as in disbelief. “So certain of your place in the Universe… so sure of your perspective.”
Confusion twists in her gut as the Prime bends down, leaning in over the orb to meet her eyes. The huge hand wraps over her shoulder, blanketing it like a cape - his thumb stroking lightly, almost affectionately, over her skin. His voice drops to a whisper: “Perhaps you should look… closer.”
His eyes, still holding hers captive, flick down.
The surface of the orb casts soft, swirling blue light up the planes of the Prime’s face. She follows his gaze. Something looks… oddly familiar about these swirling patterns. Are those… clouds? Could this be a model of a planet? She looks closer. She has never seen one with such intricate detail. The mountain ranges seem sculpted with ridges too fine for even the most delicate of artisans to carve; the oceans are so vividly painted, the waves almost… seem to… move…
As she peers closer, her vield of vision warps at the edges; something pulls at her, dragging her forward - no, down - what happened to the floor? - which way was up again? When she looks up at the high ceiling, it suddenly seems miles away, and so vast - she is - falling - the clouds are coming up to meet her, swirling around her, cool condensation spattering her skin as the air streams past - she screams - there, miles and miles above, impossibly vast, is a broad, fanged smile - the world warps out of focus as gravity twists and spins -
- And then, she is on her hands and knees in the bright white light of the trophy room, gasping.
It takes several moments to recover her sense of up and down, to reassure herself that this is indeed solid floor. When she finally manages to look up, she sees the Regent of the Seven Skies cradling the orb like an infant.
Unsteadily, Glimmer makes a valiant attempt to get to her feet. “Th. Th.” She stutters, inhales, tries again. “Th-th-that’s a planet.”
“Indeed. As I mentioned… highly prized by the first world I cleansed.” The Prime gives her that beatific smile as she manages to stand; gently, he reseats the treasure in its column of light. “Its people were fantastically advanced… and avid collectors. Somewhat of an inconvenience for those collected, I suspect.”
“That’s…” Glimmer shakes her head, trying to dispel the dizziness. “Why… why did you show me this?”
"Where there was chaos... now there is peace," comes his gentle reply. "Peace and order. That is all I desire."
Gracefully, the towering alien lowers himself to one knee, his skirts pooling on the polished floor around him. The movement at last brings him down to her eye level… very close to her face. She is too disoriented to flinch back. All four glowing eyes are fixed on hers, holding her in place like gravity itself - and she finds herself clinging to that gaze, a much-needed anchor. The glint in those eyes is wholly disconnected from his smile.
“I will bring peace to the darkest corners of the cosmos.” His words are tonal, hymnal, as avid as a sermon. “I know you understand… you, who wished for an end to your war... an end to evil.”
The Prime lifts a hand to her face. She stands frozen, transfixed by the intensity of his eyes, as his massive hand cups one side of her head - delicately, oh so delicately caressing her, like the petals of a flower.
“...What you wished for Etheria... I will give to the Universe.”