On Broken Wings

On Broken Wings is the third episode of the second season of 40: The Last Splixson and the 18th episode of the overall series.

Plot
Ding, ding... A chiming noise like a bell or perhaps a warning chime sounded loudly, forcing Necropolix awake. As he sat up, pain spiked through his head and caused his face to distort from the aftereffects of his headfirst crash on Khoros.

Necropolix: Owww...

He looked around and saw that he was in a tent. The air was a mixture of numerous odors. The fact that he was still alive shocked him.

He slowly opened his eyes. A myriad of colors danced across his pupils. It was only then that he noticed that there was a large amount of liquid covering his eyes. He blinks in an attempt to get rid of them. But the liquid kept flowing. They were actually tears.

Necropolix: Tears?

There was a deep feeling of pain and loss within him. He had lost his drive after the reveletion of something of extreme importance moments before the destruction of his flagship.

Yellow sunlight was shining straight through the fabric of the tent. He squinted his eyes against the strong light and finally managed to get rid of the tears.

He stands up and walks out of the tent. He looks around, finds the Anodite that had rescued him sitting down on a conveniant stump.

Anodite: Oh hey, you're finally awake! You need to take it easy, okay? You got hurt pretty bad.

Necropolix resisted the urge to talk to her. He simply mumbled a few words in his mouth.

Anodite: My name's Jenevile by the way. And you are?

Necropolix: An Osmosian. That's all you need to know.

He saw her face turn away from him, her distinctive features being washed in sunlight. Pink long flowing hair with a perfect blondish tint to it with the glowing of the sun's waning light. Slightly rounded cheeks and a soft complexion.

He growled fiercly in a low voice.

Necropolix: Why did you help me anyways? I don't belong here and i'm an outsider. Not to mention that I'm an Osmosian - galactic enemy number 1.

Jenevile: I'm an outcast, just like you. Don't start questioning me when you've already got my name. I should be questioning you. I helped you because I could and wanted to.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: What's an Anodite doing on Khoros?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: I could ask you the same thing. I'm a healer at a Tetramand Training Camp.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: I'll be leaving now.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: What are you going to do?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: That is my busin-

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">At that point, the Osmosian cut off his words unnaturally so she turned to look at him, but he only shook his head slightly. Jenevile then looks around her and lets out a big sigh.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix surrounds himself with a bubble shield and takes off into space.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">The scene cuts to Necropolix landing on a desert asteroid with a large warehouse stationed on it.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">He waited the lights died. He waited. One minute passed. He hadn't heard anyone leave, but he hadn't heard anyone inside. The risk was now or never. He finally stood, really hoping no one was around. Trying not to make a sound, Necropolix jimmied open the warehouse window. The silence remained. Window sliding open, he worked to get his broad shoulders through. It was hard, but he managed. From there, he slid in, quiet as a snake. His obsidian eyes darted around as he inspected the warehouse.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">People were hanging from the walls, chained there from their wrists like prisoners, thrashing against the restraints. Some were as limp as rag dolls. One or two were screaming out for help. A lot of them were sobbing uncontrollably. Many were deathly pale, most likely dead.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Suddenly, Jenevile leapt through the window, landing in one with a hard crash! sound.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: Be quiet! Why are you here?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: I can help you out with this.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: You have no say in this.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">He stared at piles and crates and mountains of riches and crystals that he could only assume was harvested from these people. People like him. Osmosians.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: I think I get the gist. You have morals now.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: You make it sound like it's a bad thing.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: Not, not at all.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">A long period had passed as Jenevile healed the Osmosians as much as she could while Necropolix was freeing them from their shackles. She was assuring the scared ones that they would be fine by comforting them as well as she could.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: Osmosians that didn't qualify to join the army were brought here instead resources are forcefully mined off them.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">There was a thud in the middle of the room. With this continuous sound, a huge shape had begun to appear. The enormous body was covered with bulging muscles. A gigantic creature solidly made and black bearded to the waist.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">???: You're ruining my business!

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: This isn't a business and these aren't your workers. This is a freakin' slaughter house.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: My name is Necropolix, commander of the Armies of the Osmosian Empire, son to a murdered father, and TRUE emperor of Osmos V.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">???: After you were announced dead, Azeroth and Inbenton took the throne. Your orders mean nothing.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: You two look like you know each other.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: This guy once had the honor of serving as official knouter to the Osmosian Empire.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix launches the first assault and beats him down until he can barely stand on his feet. Though the brutish Osmosian's only ill effects from Necropolix's attack are a few loose teeth and singed hair, which angered him.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Less than a second later, the brute's fist made impact with Necropolix's face. After about five or six vicious hits, Jenevile pulls him off with her prehensile hair and pins him to the ground.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix nearly kills him with a single crushing kick to the head, disabling him from moving.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: That's enough.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile chains his hands together and tightens them to make sure he can't get free.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">???: This isn't over. I will get my revenge in this life or the next. Now whisper my name. I want to hear you say the name of your future killer.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: There's no point in giving me your name. I don't want to know it. As far as I'm concerned, I'll never see you again.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix went to the closest wall and started pulling people from the wall, ripping the chains that hung them there. They each fell to the ground, crumpling at the touch of solid ground with sobs and moans and groans and painful tears running from their eyes. He ushered them towards Jenevile who helped them towards the exit.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: What are you planning to do with these Osmosians?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: Get them all strong enough to fight and have my own personal army.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: You may be used to armies, but I'm more used to strategies.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: I'll need them for what's coming.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: What exactly is going on?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: It's too complicated to explain now. Anyway, we should relocate to somewhere safer and more secluded. You can teleport us all, right?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: Well, yeah...

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: Ok, then.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile waves her arms causing a gust of pink wind to spiral out, grow and surround the whole area, and it teleports her, Necropolix, and the other Osmosians. After the destination is reached, they hover above the ground in a small pink tornado. The wind clears out, making them land on the ground beneath them.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix started looking at his surroundings. A spectacularly scenic view suddenly sprung into view. They were teleported into the middle of some steep cliffs. Extending from beyond the rocky mountains, a small sliver of the blue sky could be seen.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: We should be safe here.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: Where are we?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: I teleported us to Hathor. It's uninhabited so I thought it was safe enough.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile had used telepathy to read into his subconscious and chose this planet specifically.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: Of all the places...Seriously?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix was standing motionlessly, with his mouth closed shut as if he were resisting something.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: I dont get it. Why would you dislike Hathor?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile had eyes that showed she understood everything, yet she still asked.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: Do you have anything against Hathor?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Yes-I have to tell her everything. That some of the responsibility for the Splixson Genocide belonged to the selfish former king...me.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">But, just before he could say it, she shook her head gently.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: It's fine. I already understand. About the path you've walked...

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Her quiet whisper halted there.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">He tried to think about the meaning of her words, but felt that, right now, it was fine if he didn't get it.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix sucked in one single huge breath.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Unknowingly, Necropolix started stammering like a weak kid who didn't know what to do.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile, who was leaning tightly onto Necropolix, felt his body tremble for a split second.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">He leaned his back on the tree right behind him, and his eyes that lost all glow were looking above.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">It felt strangely heavy-hearted to see him behave this way.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">His eyes looked somewhat lost as if he were looking somewhere distant in the past. However, Jenevile still brought her face close to force him to look at her, and said with a hoarse voice.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: I can't judge what you did in the past...and I don't have the right to. But I do know that you're a strong and good-hearted person reshaping your destiny.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: I'm not strong. I'm so self-loathing that I force myself to forget all the bad things that I've done.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: I felt that rescuing them from that torture camp would compensate in a way.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">These words went straight to his into his heart, leaving a strong bitter taste in his mouth. After he turned it into a self-depreciating smile, he said these words...

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: I'm a really bad person...

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Jenevile: I'm sorry. I thought that I could ease your emotional problems, but I still can't remove the burden on you.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Necropolix: You don't have to bear this with me.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">A hand went over his back and was placed on his right shoulder before pulling him forcefully and holding him tight in her arms, comforting him. The warmth of their bodies began to melt his frozen heart bit by bit.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">The scene cuts to the G.P. Brisk II flying in space through a field of destroyed spaceship parts. Mosalihateymkhareb (Jury Rigg's species) are salvaging parts from the wreckage. Another group of alien medics are collecting the corpses of the Osmosians that died in the explosion.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Metarid looks through the ship's porthole in amazement.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Metarid: This is horrible.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Willie: What did this had to be way stronger than just a Splixson.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Fred: I'm going out to have a better look.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Fred rotates the Novatrix dial, scrolling through his alien arsenal, and transforms into Opticus. He crawls onto a pad and beams out of the ship.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Opticus uses jet propulsion to move around the wreckage, while using his enhanced vision to increase the maximum range of his sight.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">He approaches one of the aliens assigned to clear this area of corpses.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Opticus: Excuse me, but would you happen to know what happened here?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Alien: I overheard one of the wounded soldiers. Said they were all wiped out by a single alien. A one man army.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Opticus: Did he know the race of that alien?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Alien: No, he didn't mention.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Opticus: Oh, ok. Thank you.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">The alien resumes clearing the area of corpses.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Opticus propels himself to the G.P. Brisk II and beams himself in.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Opticus reverts back to normal as he materializes in the ship.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Fred: I didn't find anything.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Willie: This is a wild goose chase. We should stop digging into this case any further.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Fred: I got it! Why didn't I think of this earlier?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Metarid: That is because you rarely think.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Fred scrolls through his aliens and transforms into Chrononaut.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Chrononaut: I'll turn back time and project the events that happened here.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Chrononaut slams his foot down, causing a wave of golden energy to envelop them. Everyone was immersed in golden pillar of light. Past the golden veil, everything blurred steadily. As the golden light faded, their surroundings became clear again. However, what stood before them was an astral projection of the events that occurred on the Osmosian flagship moments before its destruction. They could see what was happening but couldn't hear any of it.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Osmosian soldiers were blasted away. Metarid looked at Marcus who had his mouth wide open next to him then at the person who single-handedly destroyed an entire hive of Osmosians. It was without a doubt a Splixson. The Splixson's face revealed the twisted smile of someone certain of his victory.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">After witnessing this and confirming the fact that the attacker was a Splixson, Chrononaut snapped his fingers and ended the projection.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">They were once again in the G.P. Brisk II. Chrononaut reverts back to normal.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Fred: I can't believe this! There's another Splixson out there!

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Marcus: Didn't you guys notice it?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Fred: Notice what?

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Marcus: Right before he took down Necropolix, he seemed to have told him something important, judging by the look on Necropolix's face afterwards.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Metarid: How observant of you, Marcus.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Fred: Whatever, we can find out what he said when we find him.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Willie: By the way, my parents are still stationed on Hathor. So I was wondering if we could head back and pay them a visit. I would have visited them earlier, but you guys seemed like you were in a hurry to get here.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">Fred: No sweat! Of course, we can go to your parents.

<p style="font-size:14px;line-height:22px;">The G.P. Brisk II changes its course back to Hathor to pay a visit to Willie's parents.

Characters

 * Necropolix
 * Jenevile
 * Osmosian Slaves
 * Fred
 * Willie
 * Marcus
 * Metarid
 * Unknown Splixson

Aliens Used

 * Opticus
 * Chrononaut

Trivia

 * The title of the episode "On Broken Wings" refers to someone emotionally scarred; Necropolix in this case.
 * Jenevile makes her first appearance since the original series Fred 40.