Robert Killiman stormed the Archon's palace, fury rolling like a swarm of greedy bugs from dark corners beyond his sight.

They crept up his heart and began to gnaw at what little sanity remained. Killiman didn't know anything about it, he just kept running.

He didn't notice that he was wearing a completely unfamiliar suit of armor, or that the floor of the palace had changed.

The floor tiles of the Archon's Palace have been carefully designed by many artists, and they carry history, you might even say, to some extent, the history of Maculag itself.

Now, however, what he was treading on was not the history of Maculag, but a vast expanse of rough, filthy stone, strewn with blood and the shattered corpses of the aliens.

He ran past them, with the highest degree of contempt and hatred for what he saw as the remains of the rebels. He was still restraining himself, trying to use his reason to keep his anger out, otherwise it wouldn't be just like this.

Kiriman knew that enough people had died in Maculag today, and Connor had warned him that peace should be fought for by better means, not through violence and blood. Peace achieved in that way will not last.

So he waved his arms and shouted at the rebels hiding behind bunkers: "Surrender!" ”

His voice echoed between the rock walls, splitting and stretching—frantically leading to the deepest depths of darkness. The rebels came out of their bunkers in a sluggish manner, they were not armed.

Killiman rushed at them, grabbed the tallest of them, and roared at him, "You betrayed Makurag, why did you do this, and who instructed you to do this?!" ”

The man didn't answer, and there was a kind of sluggishness on his pale face—for a moment, he was no longer him, but 'it'. Killiman could see its face clearly, the pale blue skin and eighteen rapidly blinking eyes.

A great panic instinctively welled up in his heart, and Robert Killiman did not understand what was happening, but he knew very well that this was not what human beings should be.

Killiman clenched his hands in overshock, and in the next second, with the blood it splattered, 'he' returned.

Now, standing in front of Kiliman was a howling man, with a typical Macurag countenance, deep-set eyes, a high nose, and a pale complexion. He has short blonde hair and a resolute chin.

He looked familiar.

Killiman frowned, not delving into the familiarity. Now, he's most concerned about something else – he's just gotten out of control.

Remorse ensued, and he began to recite a prayer.

Talasha Yuton gave it to him and taught him it when he was still a child. If you sense you're about to lose control, read it, and Robert Killiman did as he was told.

As he recited, his mood gradually calmed down. He calmed down, but also forgot or ignored something. For example, why Captain Melotus and the guards did not follow him, and why none of the rebels were armed with weapons.

All kinds of suspicions are connected, so obvious, so suspicious, but Robert Killiman didn't react at all. A stupid person can certainly ignore these, but, can Robert Killiman?

No one knows the answer.

The Makurag man said the prayer and grunted and let go of his hand, causing the man to fall to the ground, feeling the world spin in his mind. He had calmed down, but he felt the urge to vomit.

The urge came from his nostrils, and he had just smelled an extremely terrible smell, not chemicals, but the smell of thousands of corpses. The corpses were thrown into a thick pile of fallen leaves and damp earth, flesh and bones rotting.

Robert Killiman stared blankly at all this, still chanting prayers, trying to calm down.

— but he was no longer reading the prayer that Talasha Yuton had taught him.

The aliens looked at the giant standing in front of them, looked at his face, and fell silent. The xenomorph who had been nearly killed a few seconds ago opened the tentacles on its jaw and let out a strange grunt from its throat.

They stepped forward and began to surround Robert Killman.

They do not have the mark of the god of fire on their jaws.

They are not His followers.

There are three planets in Harcosus.

Three.

"Who sent you?" Kiriman stared at the rebel and rebuked.

"Do you know what you've all done? You have started a rebellion in the city of Maculag! There are many innocent people who die today, and their deaths will be counted on your heads! So tell me, who sent you?! ”

The man didn't answer, he was tall, his haggard eyes under his short blond hair blinked weakly, and then he let out a strange grunt from his throat. Fine, continuous, dense - foul odor.

"Say!" Kiriman snarled at him. "You have no choice, who did it? Who instructed all this?! ”

The man stared at him, still silent—at this moment, in this brief moment, Robert Killiman suddenly flashed before his eyes.

He saw the eerie grottoes, the monsters that surrounded him with pale blue skin, and his eyes that blinked quickly—and then it all returned to nothingness.

The silent man reappeared, his face haggard and pale, his blonde hair turned to withered branches, and his lips a gloomy green. He kept his mouth shut and never spoke.

Killiman cursed under his breath, angry at the man's stubbornness. He began to recite prayers again and persuaded himself not to be so angry. He recited the prayer and calmed down like never before.

It's a real calm, like lying in the forest, lying on the damp dirt and letting the reptiles pass through their nostrils and lips, thick dead leaves falling from the sky, bringing with them the smell of decay and burying him deeply

Kiriman opened his eyes blankly—he heard, the man finally spoke.

"Wake up." The man said weakly. "Wake up, please, wake up"

"What?" Killiman frowned suspiciously. "What are you talking about?"

There was no answer, and the man closed his mouth tightly. His face began to change, his flesh flipping like an ocean or a wave.

Eighteen eyes and pale blue skin were replaced by a flip of flesh, and Kiliman looked at the creature in bewilderment, even reaching out to put his hand on the side of its cheek to feel its body temperature.

"You don't have a fever." He said. "That means you're in good spirits, tell me the truth now, soldier. As you can see, you have no chance of winning. ”

He paused for a moment, and pointed to the corpses that littered the palace behind him—corpses with elongated limbs, reduced to flesh and blood, but slowly decomposing. Killiman's face remained unchanged, as if he were in the Archon's Palace, and then he continued to speak.

"You don't understand it yet, but you will, soldier. You have been deceived, and whatever that person has promised you is not the truth. Don't you know that Connor Killiman is the most outstanding consul Makulag has ever seen? He's improved the water conservancy works, he's worked out new ways of farming, and everyone can afford to eat, so go see the farmers outside the city, soldiers. ”

Kiriman earnestly persuaded him.

"We are all peasant children, you, me, Connor Killiman - we all grew up eating crops, do you believe that Connaught Archon is a wicked man? Tell me, soldier, who has instilled in you these terrible lies? And where did that man take my father—"

He stopped, his brows furrowed together in suspicion.

Father?

Who? Who exactly?

A flash of light appeared in front of him.

He saw an ordinary and even a little short old man, who was standing on the side of memory and smiling at him, his smile full of worry: "Robert, you only have this one chance"

What? No, wait, who are you?

"He's your adoptive father."

A voice said. Killiman turned his head and saw a man, a man with a tired face, his skin wrinkled, but still old as a parchment roll—the man turned his head and looked at him with a sad expression.

"And you're forgetting about him."

What?

"You're forgetting about us." Said the short old man.

"Think back, Robert. You never spoke to the rebels at that time, you killed them all, and I was lying in my study and heard your roar coming from downstairs. That's when I knew you were angry, and it was scary to start a fire when you were a kid, let alone you that day."

Killiman covered his forehead in confusion, he felt his eyes sour - he seemed to be crying, but, why?

"Remember?"

The old man looked at him sadly.

"Remember, Robert, you must remember that you saw me dying in your study, and you howled like a beast. I was poisoned, a toxin that can be transmitted through the air. I'm holding a gun at you and telling you to back off"

"You're crying, Robert, I'm dying, but I want to say something to you, but I can't say anything, so I'll give you the coin."

The old man bowed his head and stretched out his right hand as if offering a treasure—

A coin, just like that, lay in his old palm. Kiriman stared at it intensely, bewildered. He grunted through his throat, and he stepped forward—

He tried to reach out and take it, but he was too weak, too weak to even hold the coin. It fell to the ground, collided with the ground, rippled, and quickly faded away.

The light disappeared in an instant.

Robert Kiriman recites the prayer and returns to reality. His face was haggard, and his face was pale and yellowish from his illness. He recited the prayer without stopping.

And also.

It's a bit of a card today.

(End of chapter)