"Loyalty"- skekGra
They are a threat to our rule, the Emperor had said, in the especially silky voice he used when discussing anything distasteful. My rule, he had not said, but skekGra hears it regardless. It has grown clearer as the trine have passed that any semblance of camaraderie between his own kind is only an illusion.
You know what you must do.
He does, but in the moment, he finds himself hesitating. The gruenak squirming and whimpering beneath his grip on its throat is pathetic, despite the bizarre strength that nearly manages to throw him off. Distasteful is an apt description for this- there is none of the exhilaration there once was, nor any sense of righteous achievement. Just blind, hollow obedience, to a cause of benevolent supremacy that grows less benevolent by the day- supremacy supported by nothing beyond that they themselves decreed it was so.
But if he tosses that all aside, what else does he have?
The question gives him pause, but in the end, he isn't quite ready to find out.
He slits the creature's throat mechanically, watching without passion as its twitching stills and dark blood soaks into his gloves. He does not smile.