+++++ Disappointment
Arrayed in rigid, professional, formations across the broad, sweeping, tundra of northeastern Russia, the beings of the race bearing a name which roughly translated to 'Destined' awaited the order of their 'Battlemaster'. Each no shorter than two hundred and fifty centimeters, clad in flexible armor of a metal that wasn't native to Earth, wielding weapons that had proven capable of tearing tanks in half, they exuded ruthless efficiency.
The Wanderer stood fifty meters from the Battlemaster, with his hands in his pockets to keep warm. I'm just saying, I think maybe we need to try adding more fruit to our diet. Nozomi-chan is eating too many sweets of late, and don't think I'm unaware of where they're coming from Noelle, and so it's our duty to try and ween her off of those onto more natural sugars.
"…as you can see before you! The might that has conquered entire galaxies! We have defeated Titans! Crushed the Eyeless Beholders!" The Battlemaster continued extolling the unstoppable army standing before these few puny creatures and their one warrior.
Hey, I give them treats because they work their little asses off. I work them right hard; they burn off more than enough calories to make up for a few sweeties now and again. Noelle was casually inspecting her rifle, while also ignoring what the enormous idiot was spewing through the translators. I don't disagree with the fruits, but I'm not going to sit here and be blamed for promoting good behaviors.
"…none of you could possibly hope to defeat even one of our battle-tested Fated! Amassed before you are uncountable awaiting my word to crush your pathetic defenses! We flew here anticipating those who bested the Whitespawn, and all we find are children!"
Does he have to shout everything he says? Akane hid a yawn behind her glove. Really, I thought the whole 'bloviating asshole' thing was an authorial trope. One of those things people put on TV to shorthand 'warrior race'. How could they possibly have developed spaceflight if they have to give a twelve-hour speech every time they take a shit?
"…will be generous and allow you to kill yourself now! If you do, I will spare one of every ten of these pathetic 'humans' infesting this world! The alternative is I shove my fist through your chest myself to tear out your beating heart to feast on!"
Miki-chan wants to stop at a hotel on the way home. Shin-tan promised that we'd go shopping, too. Mikoto had already picked out her targets, tallying the support crew that made the war machine before them function. We'll do naughty things in the shower, then we'll buy naughty things for everyone back home.
"…so paralyzed with fear that you cannot even move! Ha! I believe the time for words has finished, and now we will-"
Shinji held up his hand, as if asking a question.
"Is this some form of surrender, weakling?"
"You know these aren't fair odds, right?" Kicking the toes of one foot into the renewed permafrost as he lowered his hand, The Wanderer eyed the horde before him. "I mean…very uneven. Not really sporting, if I'm honest."
I love it when he gets like this, Noelle purred, makes me all naughty in my nethers.
"We do not make sport, human! We make WAR!" The Battlemaster's declarative shout was met with an equal roar of approval from his men.
Waiting for it to die down, Shinji nodded, "Right. Right. 'War'. That's what you call this then?" Gesturing with his free hand, he indicated the battle lines. "Because we have a different term for it here, but I'll not repeat it for the sake of diplomacy."
"I will give you one more word, human, and you had best make it one of abject apology for daring to mock the Destined!"
Only one word? Shinji's good eye began to glow with half of his power, his bad eye with the other half. "Suzuka."
The cleansing that followed would never be spoken of by the two 'Destined' allowed to escape. The only words they could find to explain the lack of an entire fleet at their backs were 'Death itself walks that world'. Words they repeated every five seconds until their own time had ended.