Meanwhile, elsewhere...

Dragzkor, Council meeting:

Everyone, please take your spot at the lounge, we have some news to discuss.

Ah, forgive my lateness, High Speaker!

No matter, Jorr, I'm in a good mood today, why don't you grab some adrenos, and bring them over for everyone.

Yes, High Speaker.

Well, my kin, I'm sure you've all seen the new numbers for the Warm-bloods..

You mean, they went full Nazi on themselves again?

Quite so. They’re about to set themselves back by decades—and that spells a big "V" for us! Loosh harvesting will surge to full scale, new storage chambers must be built, and I expect only the finest yield!

Well, cheers to that!

Finally — a breakthrough after so many cycles of hard work.

Actually, Vraak, this one’s all on them. I’d love to take the credit, but they went above and beyond our wildest dreams—completely on their own! If I could lick-off one of their faces now, I would!

Indeed, High Speaker, our models could never have predicted such a wild card landing in our laps.

A 'trump' card, you may say, hssssk-kkk-kkk-haaasss!

My, how good that face must taste... I can only imagine.

I don't know, the orange make up, I've seen it up close, doesn't seem that appetizing.

Speaking of closeness, Smuk, your meta games are landing a bit too close to home: First, you name an AI "Grok", then make a botched speech with awkward hand-gestures? Your Warm-blood acting is making us all a bit uneasy.

Mmm, High Speaker, aah, it was named so to, aah, honor our great leader, aah, Grok-The Clutchborn! I had no other motifs, mmm.

Look, you are one of our most talented scale-shedders — you even made them turn 'Woke' into a pejorative. But, we don't need this virtue-signaling. In fact, you might want to lay low for a while, and also go easy on the Loosh. It's a unique once-in-lifetime opportunity to destroy their chance for awakening — and I'm not risking it with your antics.

Aah, mmm.

High Speaker, may I voice a concern?

What is it, Vraak?

It's the orange Warm-blood's lifespan... It seems to be nearing it's cessation. Shouldn't we be worried?

Ah yes, Vraak, this is indeed unfortunate, and a considerate problem for us... We've tried everything, but none of us is capable of morphing into his exact shade of orange... It appears we won't be able to replace that one. Really ruins my mood actually.

Another vail of adreno?

Yes, Jorr, shed well.

Doesn't matter, with or without him, it's all set in motion — they are willingly disappearing their own, and we collect all. No due-process, all off-the-books, and they aren't even resisting. We don't even need to send the Grays to abduct them.

Mmm, the Grays, I like their, aah, entrance, though. So cool!

Somebody please take away his Loosh, also no more adreno for today.

Anyway, where are we at now, Warm-bloodocide No.3?

Not quite, High Speaker, but there are some considerable pockets of what they call 'geocide' here and there.

And war.

Resonance to my scales! We are indeed entering the golden age for our kin.

Cheers!

Cheers!

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Thanks for reading, if this left you confused, then you might like read the first part.

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