#titan guard

[titanomancy]

Hey, Skit, are you pretty under all that?

[bluehorizon-eq]

Titan Guard - Draft Horse by Ask-BlueHorizon

Drew my friend’s OC Titan Guard as a Draft Horse.  I had fun with this one :3  

I’ll continue drawing horses in the future when I get the time ^-^

Larger Res that isn’t spotty on the shading available at the DA source

[studyofwhump]

Forgot to do this earlier but tomorrow (I guess today technically) is the 14th anniversary of when I first started creating for Titan Guard!

So send some asks my way and I’ll get them answered throughout the day as part of the fun!

[studyofwhump]

First line ask game!!

[There are three things one wants to hear the least in an engine deck: "oh no," and "are we out of fire extinguishers," along with the worst option of all.]

-chaotic-tired-cat

(this has been sitting in my inbow to almost 2 fucking years to the day I'm sorry but here)

Content warnings: explosion, space whump, fire, minor character death

Hull integrity failing. Breach imminent.

The message on the intercom kept repeating through the speakers without pause. Alek kept his hands out to his sides, bracing him from slamming against the walls as the ship shook around him. He was nearly at the engine room entrance, already feeling the heat of fires against his skin. The ship lurched and he stumbled forward against the sealed door, the gray metal already hot to the touch.

Hull integrity failing. Breach imminent.

Alek overrode the safety lock on the door and forced his way into the engine room. The place was already ablaze, fire blanketing across platforms and cables as sparks from ripped grids flew in the air. Flames were already stretching over the shielding of the ship’s central core despite the onslaught of fire extinguishers around it. The engine room’s fire suppression system wasn’t working as the fire worsened. He heard shouting, and could see some of the crew surrounding the core trying to fight the fire. Others were still trying to bring the suppression systems back online. A few helped pull injured crewmates out of flaming wreckage.

Hull integrity failing. Breach imminent.

He ran down towards the chaos, nearly slamming into one of the engineers as the ship rocked again. The light of the fire burned into his eyes as he ran towards a downed platform. Yelling and screaming drew him to a few people pulling someone out from under a metal slab. He came by their side, grabbing one end and lifting it as they dragged the person out, then another. Both of them were bloodied and covered in debris.

Hull integrity failing. Breach imminent.

“Is there anyone else under there?!” Alek saw one of the helpers was Xu, who nodded as his question was responded with a ‘no.’ The two of them helped one of the injured crewmates to their feet, each slinging as arm over their shoulders as they guided them out from the wreckage. The others followed suit. They kept their feet moving against the shaking structures around them, not stopping to look back as they ran back through the engine room entrance and down the corridor.

Hull integrity failing. Breach immine—

There was loud sound behind them, an explosion, and suddenly wind whooshed past Alek’s ears with incredible force, pushing him, Xu, and the other crewmates back towards the open engine room. There was screaming, a gripping cold that seemed to reach deep into their lungs, and then as quickly as it happened, it stopped. The air returned to normal, the sound was gone, and all of them collapsed to the floor.

“The hell—?" Alek pushed himself up and looked back at the entrance. A blue screening shone over the space between the corridor and the engine room, a pressure shield maintaining the atmosphere throughout the rest of the ship. He and Xu stood up, feet still unsteady from the rocking of the ship, and peered out through the door frame.

“Oh my god…” The flames of the raging fire were gone, in a twisted way leaving the ship’s engine core safe. Through the lights of the remaining intact bulbs, the outline of the massive breach in the hull was visible. The atmosphere of the engine room was gone, leaving the shredded metal of the wall eerily still. The remaining crew that had stayed behind were nowhere in sight.

“No…” Alek felt the descending dread falling on him as the crew with him and Xu came to see the carnage. None of them said anything, as if frozen in body and tongue where they stood. The small force field was the only thing preventing them from getting sucked out into space, a meager protection against a failing ship.

Another explosion sounded and the ship lurched, throwing all of them against the sidewall. Alek gasped from the impact, pushing himself back to his feet as he felt a hand grab the back of his shirt and pull him away from the door. Xu pulled him over to help their injured crewmate back to their feet, all of them moving as quickly as they could with the floor shaking beneath their feet. The alarm above them changed its tune.

Warning: hull breach. Evacuate now. Warning: hull breach. Evacuate now.

“We have to get to the escape pods!” Alek shouted through the blare of warnings and klaxons.

“The pods are on the ship’s port side, that whole section is gone!” Xu’s voice was barely audible, but Alek understood him well enough. If the escape pods had been destroyed, how were they going to get off the ship? All of them had to think of something quickly as their legs carried them hastily through the corridors.

“Attention all hands,” Ganex’s voice suddenly replaced the alarm’s repeating mantra, “Deploying emergency corridor cutoff in fifteen seconds! Move to a secure barring and brace for impact!”

Impact? Alek didn’t have time to think about what that meant. As soon as the emergency handlebars ejected from the walls, everyone rushed to the sides and held on tightly. Alek and Xu stayed close together, keeping their injured crewmate close as their grip was still weak. The ship still rocked around him as they waited for safety measures to deploy. Alek tried to keep breathing, tried not to let the terror of being sucked out into space or being flung through the ship like a ragdoll keep him from losing focus. But even as he held on for dear life, his voice couldn’t help but break into a scream.

The longest fifteen seconds of his life.

[studyofwhump]

Hold On

This has been sitting in my folders for ages and I finally got around to it! Been thinking about this scene a lot...

Content warnings: blood, POW whump, beating, swearing

“Quit fighting!”

“Fuck off!” Alekoran snarled at the guard shoving him back into his cell. His injuries still flared from the movement as he hit the floor, his knees skidding on the cement floor. It hurt, but there was some comfort knowing that he wouldn’t be in this cell alone. Macxè was still there, waiting for the guards to return him. He came by Alekoran’s side while the guard loomed over them.

“Can’t believe anyone would let people like you join the Pax Rebels,” the guard taunted them, “They used to be something, actual fighters that made this stupid war entertaining. But now I guess they’ll let any weaklings join.”

“Shut up!” Alekoran snapped as he glared up at him. Even after a beating, he still held a fire in his eyes. He flinched as the guard pulled his baton from his belt, but didn’t back down. He felt Macxè’s hand grip around his arm. “Alekoran—"

“You wanna try again?” the guard growled at him, “I’ll knock you into next week.”

“Go ahead! As if you can do anything else in your life beside be a major asshole!”

“You little fucking—” the guard raised his baton in the air.

“Don’t, please! He didn’t mean it!” Macxè shifted himself between them just as the baton swung. It hit him, smacking against his cheekbone and throwing him to the ground.

“No!” Alekoran scrambled to Macxè’s side as he collapsed. He glared up at the guard as he helped Macxè up to his knees. He ignored the flaring pain of his own bruises as the guard stepped back, Macxè’s blood dripping from the baton’s end.

“Maybe that will teach you to behave,” he said, leaving the cell and locking the door in place. Alekoran’s anger was still simmering beneath the surface, but it began to cool as he focused his attention on Macxè. Macxè’s hand was already bloodied from the open gash on his cheek, and he whimpered through pained breath as Alekoran helped him sit up.

“Here.” Alekoran didn’t think anything of pulling his sleeve up and holding it gently to Macxè’s cheek. All he was focused on was stopping the bleeding. Macxè flinched from the contact, both of them knowing this would form a nasty bruise later. But Alekoran was careful as he dabbed some of the blood away until it stopped bleeding.

“There,” he tried to give Macxè a smile as he pulled his hand away and folded back the bloodstain on his sleeve. “I’ll clean it off some more once they bring us water.”

Macxè didn’t say anything in response, but Alekoran could see his eyes glistening in the low light. No doubt it throbbed with pain from how hard the guard swung. He sat with his legs crossed on the floor, not saying anything or even looking at him. For a moment, Alekoran worried he might have a concussion.

“Macxè?” he rested his hand on top of Macxè’s. “Are you okay? You can tell me if it hurts too much, I’m not gonna judge.”

“Why do you always do that?” Macxè muttered in a cold tone. Alekoran’s eyes widened, surprised by the change in his voice and confused by what he meant. Macxè finally looked up at him, his eyes on the verge of flooding over with tears.

“Wh-What do you mean?”

“You’re always challenging them, you just—” Macxè sniffled, “Why do you have to do it all the time? It’s just—It doesn’t solve anything. You’re not making them stop. It-It just makes things worse! It makes it worse for both of us!”

Alekoran sat back in stunned silence. He had never heard Macxè get angry like this, and his words cut deep. Macxè finally broke and let tears run down his cheeks. He winced a little from the salty liquid running into the cut on his cheek, but remained silent. Alekoran’s chest felt hollow, and he shook his head gently.

“I… I don’t…I mean I never…” He took both of Macxè’s hands in his own. “I’m not trying to make things worse, I swear.”

Macxè pulled his hands away and glared off to the corner. Alekoran’s heart sank and his ears drooped low. “Macxè, I don’t want them to hurt me. I don’t want them to hurt you. I’m sorry, okay? I’m not trying to make things worse, I promise. I didn’t mean for that guy to hurt you!”

Macxè didn’t say anything, just kept staring off into the dark.

“You’re not even gonna talk to me now?” Alekoran was growing more frustrated now. “What do you want me to do?! I don’t know what to do to make it better!”

“You can just not pull shit like that in the first place!”

Alekoran flinched from the volume of Macxè’s yelling. Macxè had turned back to him, anger on display now as he shouted back.

“You’re always squeezing in one more ‘fuck you,’ one more smart-ass comeback just to piss them off, and I’m tired of it! Do you ever even think about how it makes me feel seeing them hurt you, what it does to me to have to watch that?! It fucking rips me apart! And it makes it worse… when I know it doesn’t have to be that if you would just stop!”

Alekoran stared at him in shock. Macxè’s voice faltered after the last word and he sat back, burying his face in his hands and letting his tears flow in tiny whimpers. Alekoran watched him for a few moments, at a loss of words seeing him like this. No, he hadn’t thought about how this affected Macxè, not just with the hit. He thought about how he felt every time he watched Macxè in pain. It tore him up inside. He never wanted to see Macxè in pain. Of course, Macxè wanted the same for him too.

Maybe Alekoran was an idiot. No, he definitely was.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Macxè,” He scooted up closer and rested his hands on his shoulders. “You’re right, I wasn’t thinking about how it affected you. I could… I would never, ever do something that would hurt you on purpose. Please, I know you’re angry, but please believe me.”

Macxè sniffed and wiped away his tears before looking back up at him. “I do, I just… I’m tired, and I don’t want to get hurt anymore.”

“I… I know, I’m sorry. You… you have every right to be upset. I just… I feels like when I back down, they win. Like, they get to enjoy me being under their control. And, I just hate that. I hate the power that they have, and I hate that they feel like they can just get away with it. I just don’t—”

“You don’t want to give them the satisfaction.” Macxè finished the sentence for him. Alekoran bit down on his lip and nodded. Through all the hurt it caused, all the pain and tears and grief, he didn’t want to show them they’d won. He wanted to show them that they hadn’t beaten him yet.

“I get it,” Macxè sighed and held his hand up to the sore. “None of it’s fucking fair. I want them to stop, I want it all to stop.”

“But?” Alekoran sensed one.

“…It’s just, I think there’s a point where it doesn’t help. They don’t see it like the fighting spirit that won’t quit, they’re just annoyed. They get annoyed and mad and take it out on us, and… they do get away with it. I just don’t see how it helps us.”

Alekoran was silent, the weight of Macxè’s words clouding the air between them. He found his hand raising to Macxè’s, resting gently against the back of his hand. It was feeble, he knew, thinking he could help ease the hurt caused by the guard. Even so, he noticed some of the strain in Macxè’s expression fade away with his touch. They locked eyes with each other, and time seemed to freeze.

“I… I guess it doesn’t,” Alekoran whispered, his thumb brushing Macxè’s knuckles softly. “I just… I don’t want to lose you. And I—I don’t want to leave you either. I don’t want that.”

“…Oh,” Macxè sighed and leaned a little into Alekoran’s touch. There was a moment of hesitation, but he turned his head into Alekoran’s hand. Blood stained the tips of his fingers slightly, but even the scarred and broken skin underneath felt soft and smooth. Alekoran’s heart was pounding in his chest, so much that he wondered if Macxè could hear it.

“It’s—It’s not just me, is it?” He was almost afraid of the answer.

“No, it’s… it’s not,” Macxè shook his head and smiled, “It’s definitely not. I… I don’t want to lose you either.”

“Then don’t. I-I know I can’t make them stop, but… I can’t lose you. If we say anything, then that’s done. They’ll just kill us…”

Alekoran leaned forward and cupped Macxè’s face between his hands. His eyes filled with tears, spilling down his cheeks as Macxè leaned forward too.

“Please, will you hold on, for me?”

They leaned in unison and met in the middle with a kiss. Lips were soft against the other, leading to an enveloping warm that washed over both of them. Alekoran had thought about doing this for so long, even before they were brought here. He dreamed of it.

Macxè moaned softly against his lips and brought his hand up behind Alekoran’s neck. He was gentle just as Alekoran was, with a hint of growing eagerness as he ran his fingers up through his hair. Alekoran reciprocated, stroking his fingers up the back of his neck softly. He wanted this to last forever, one good feeling he could cling onto in the midst of so much darkness.

Thank Thásol and the heavens beyond that Macxè wanted the same.

He wasn’t sure how long it was before the kiss ended, but he sighed softly as their lips parted. The air around them was almost a dreamy haze, as though nothing existed but the two of them in this space. Macxè looked back up at him, green eyes drifting up to meet his blue.

“…Okay.” He whispered in a voice only Alek could hear. “I…I will.”

Alekoran couldn’t help letting out a sigh, a mix of relief and excitement as he pressed his forehead to Macxè’s. He was careful not to touch the gash on his cheek, blood now drying out on his skin, but he stayed as close as he could. In this place at this time, it would be enough for him.

It would be enough for both of them.

Titan Guard Taglist: @nightly-whump, @angst-art-writing, @whipper-whumper, @yet-another-heathen, @why-not-whump-it, @kixngiggles, @annablogsposts, @whumpwillow (let me know if you;d like to be added!)

[studyofwhump]

T REVAMP 2 tag 8?

This is an OLD one, basically a rewrite of a scene I had written previously and wanted a different take on it. In this one, Talic was just returned home from a prisoner exchange and woke up while recovering from his injuries…

—

A loud clang from the med bay suddenly disrupted their conversation. Both heads turned in the direction of the source, and yelling echoed from inside. They ran back in and saw Talic, now wide awake, yanking out the tubes in his arms and Zanvir trying to hold him down and stop him. Ganex and Lexus ran over, grabbing his arms and holding him down against the cot. Talic was still weak from his injuries, but he yelled and fought back as hard as he could.

“Talic, it’s okay!” Lexus spoke directly into his ear. “You’re home! You’re not on the Maverick anymore. You’re back at the base with us!”

“Get off me!” Talic screamed and tried to pull his arms out of their grip. “Get off! Let me go!”

Ganex and Lexus held his arms back when he tried to reach up to pull the air line from his nose.

After several seconds of fighting, Talic’s strength gave out and he laid panting on the cot. Ganex and Lexus let go of his arms and Ganex rested his hand on the top of his head.

“You’re alright, Talic. You’re back in the medical bay at the base. Lexus is here, Zanvir is here. All of us are here with you.”

Talic flinched at the contact and was not settled by his words. Just behind them, Alek, Byruk, and Marra rushed into the room, worried from the commotion they heard.

“He’s awake!” Alek exclaimed. “Is he okay?”

“He still thinks he’s on the Maverick,” Zanvir replied. “We need to pull him back down.”

“He’s bleeding…”

[studyofwhump]

Option 2

Content warnings: imprisonment, backhand slap, POW, captivity, cursing, manhandling, (kinda) sequel to this

The warden tapped their finger against their temple gently as they tried reading through the latest report given to them yesterday. Major Quanar was never really good at staying on top of getting these things done when they first arrived, but at least they were getting to it now. Nothing from the report was new exactly that they hadn’t heard about already, updates on which prisoners had confessed, which one were still being troublesome, and recommendations from each of their skilled interrogators. It felt tedious, but the Council military headquarters would still want to know.

Off the official record of course.

They sighed and leaned back in their chair. They needed a nap, or maybe just a stiff drink. The torrential downfall of rain had been going on all day, blocking out the sun and signaling the coming end of summer. It would start getting colder soon, which would bring new opportunities for prisoner interrogation while closing off others.

The bell to their office chimed and they looked up. No time for a nap or drink, at least not now. They requested the guards bring in one of the prisoners currently kept in the outdoor prison pits. The rain had been a bit of a complication for keeping him out there, and they didn’t want him dying of hypothermia before his time. But again, Quanar found opportunity in the situation. “Enter.”

The door opened and two guards came in with the prisoner between them. All three of them were sopping wet from the rain, the prisoner looking worse for wear in rain-soaked rags for clothes and his wrists in handcuffs. He shivered from the cold, but glared at Quanar with a vengeance and his ears tilted down.

“Hm, good to see that you’re not dead yet,” Quanar rose from their chair and circled the desk, “Enjoying the rain? It’s been nice watching through the windows here.”

The prisoner said nothing, but Quanar saw his fists tighten in front of him. The Major smiled in their amusement and leaned against the edge of their desk. They remembered this particular prisoner, a little shit who had attacked their guards in the past and since then been taken out to the whipping post more than once. The idiot Rebel never really learned after any of it. Even drenched in cold rainfall in chains, he still didn’t want to show signs of his defeat.

“Of course, no one likes being caught out in a storm, and I’m sure you’re grateful to be back inside,” they crossed their arms, “Now, you have a couple of options in front of you. You can give me the information you’re holding, and get some fresh, dry clothes and a warm cell. Best way to avoid discomfort and hypothermia.”

If the prisoner was trying to hide how badly he craved release from his state, he was failing. His ears perked up at the mention of dry clothes and warmth, and the hard features in his expression softened. He really was no different from others in the past, all basic creatures needing shelter and safety. And they knew this prisoner was young. It would be harder for him to outright ignore what he desperately needed.

“Option two, you continue to stay silent. You receive nothing and these guards take you back to one of the indoor cells. You’ll remain in these same clothes without food or water until the weather calms down, then taken back to the pit until your next interrogation. Think it over carefully.”

Quanar let the choice hang in the air for a few moments. The prisoner’s eyes looked down briefly, almost like he would actually take the generous offer they were giving him. If this was all it took, Quanar would almost be disappointed. More in themself, since they could have done this was weeks ago.

“Just…” the prisoner mumbled through the rest of his sentence. Quanar frowned, their previous irritation for him starting to come back.

“Try again,” their voice was on the edge of a growl, “And try not to sounds like a petulant child.”

“I said,” the prisoner glared back up at them as he spoke, “Just. Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

Quanar scoffed and rolled their eyes. “You’re just determined to make life difficult for yourself, aren’t you?”

“Fuck you, you sadistic, fascist shithead!” The prisoner lunged forward at them. The guards behind him caught his arms and forced him down to his knees. Quanar barely flinched at his ill-fated attempt, instead smiling a little in amusement as the prisoner glared up at him with a snarl.

“That’s cute of you,” Quanar chuckled, “But if you’re really wanting to be intimidating, you’ll have to work a lot harder than that.”

“Eat shit, kharra!” The prisoner snapped at them and spat at their feet. One of the guards slapped the back of his head and grabbed his hair, forcing him to meet Quanar’s eyes. Quanar sighed and rolled their eyes. Sure, seeing this prisoner struggle so fervently was entertaining in the moment, but it only brought further inconveniencing on their part. And he was becoming more of a pain in the ass. He could’ve at least tried to be original in his defiance, but he couldn’t even do that.

“Alright, brat,” Quanar knelt down and grabbed the prisoner’s chin. He groaned and tried pulling away despite the iron grip of both the Major and the guard.

“You want to make this difficult? I will make this as painful and horrible as you can imagine until you finally come to your senses. It’s your decision on how this ends. Got that through your thick skull?”

The prisoner scoffed. “Why don’t you go and get an actual hobby instead of just fucking maiming people, you asshole? Like, honestly! You could’ve done literally anything else and you chose corny torturer! It’s pretty pathetic, actually.”

Quanar glared at him and shoved his face back before backhanding him hard. The force pulled the prisoner out of the guard’s grip on his hair, and would’ve knocked him to the ground if his arms weren’t held in place. The prisoner yelped, his eyes shut as he tried to breath with his nose now dripping blood.

“Big talk for someone in your position,” Quanar stood to their feet, “Your fellow soldiers have been making the right decision. They took the easy, safe out. Even your own captain, and you know how that ended. If you were smart, you’d be following their lead.”

The prisoner wiped away the trail of blood on their face and glared back up at them. “Easy, huh? And how did you make it easy for them, rasra? A quick, painless death if they talked?”

“They’re out of pain now, aren’t they?”

A shadow of hurt flashed across the prisoner’s face. He may have been dumb, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew Quanar had disposed of the prisoners from his squad once they confessed. It was simple the way of things. But the mention of his teammates and confirmation of their deaths hit a nerve, just as Quanar was expecting. He really was just like the rest of them, and would break like the others did too.

The warden just had to find the right spot to plunge the knife.

“Hm,” the prisoner set his jaw and exhaled slowly, “Well… more reason not to then. ‘Cause I’m not looking to die yet.”

“Yet?” Hearing the word made Quanar smile again. Perhaps it was a slip of the tongue on the prisoner’s part, but it meant opportunity for them. “Well, you know what this means, don’t you? I’ll just have to make sure your life here is miserable enough that you’re begging for death. Then we can… negotiate your concession at the right time.”

They folded their hands behind their back and went over to the office window. Rain still poured down outside and beat against the glass. “Hopefully the weather clears up soon, for your sake. Until then, cell A203, no light, food or water. Dismissed.”

They kept their eyes on the rain as the guards dragged the prisoner out of their office. There were no angry words or yelling this time, but they could feel his hateful glare staring holes in the back of their head. A sensation they were quite familiar with, and not one that fazed them. It left at the sound of the door closing, leaving them once again alone.

Quanar had glanced at the weather radar earlier. The storm cell was large, big enough that this deluge would last at least a couple more days. Not long enough to cause any real damage to that prisoner’s well-being, but enough to make him feel like it would. Then maybe he’ll think twice before talking back at them like that again.

Their eyes glanced back at the report on their desk. They caught the list of prisoner ID numbers of those that hadn’t yet yielded, including that willful brat. There were a couple more from his squad that were among them, those he would’ve worked with more closely than his spineless captain. A thought came to mind, one that intrigued them more and more as they mulled over it. The storm would pass soon, but the time was quickly approaching where they couldn’t leave any prisoners out in the pits without them dying from the winter cold. And this old building always had issues with heating individual rooms and cells. There was an unfortunate history of discovering prisoners freezing to death even when locked in their own cells.

Perhaps there was a way to reduce the risk, and shatter the defiance in one easy move.

Tag list: @nightly-whump @angst-art-writing @whipper-whumper @yet-another-heathen @why-not-whump-it @kixngiggles @annablogspost @whumpwillow

[studyofwhump]

Sleep for the Weak: Conlang Edition

First of a few snippet re-posts from my Titan Guard writings! You can read the original dialogue here. Enjoy!

---

“Aia, aia y’v krún… Y muora tumel daominea… aia—”

A slap hit Alekoran across the face and he yelped in pain. His cheek stung, the pain from it already blending in with the overwhelming dizziness he felt throughout his body. Were it not for the restraints locked around his wrists, he doubted he would be able to sit upright.

“Meid nga ýn quiça lashu k’athat che,” the interrogator glowered at him. “Thu Y ke nga n’atha, k’us’rytat zhea daominea teshuon ke muorat. Tumel atha syé rraoa Y muora peshnea, thu k’us’rytat zhea daominea brao ka talul.”

How many times had he said that? Alekoran felt like it was the first time. He was so exhausted, unsure if he was even awake in this moment. His mind wandered through a strange dream of discomfort and fear. They kept him up for days now. Hours? Was this the first time and he imagined the rest? He stared up at the hazy image of the interrogator, too tired to focus his vision.

“Y no... rraoa?” Alekoran’s words slurred, “Y, uh...”

His head dipped for a moment and he felt another slap hit him in the next.

“Ke jannat, ashan,” the interrogator grabbed the back of his hair and forced him to look up, “Y’us’ryta na latea. Ke n’us’rytat pra anavea men satru ishnan, us’rytat-ke? Ke zhat patru majinor.”

He let go of Alekoran’s hair, letting him slump forward in his seat. Alekoran moaned quietly and struggled to keep his head up. He had to lie down, he had to shut his eyes and rest. His body was agonizing for sleep. He wasn’t sure what would happen to him if he didn’t.

“Choa calano mi maktea che nor l’ish la ke muorat,” the interrogator taunted. Alekoran looked up at him with panted breath. “Y kulha bash m’ishnan satru ke zhat xézinea so men.”

“Aia...” Tears came to his eyes and flowed freely down his cheeks. “Y no... Y n’us... Y deva daominea, aia, Y n’us’ryta kulmea!”

He screamed when the interrogator rushed forward and grabbed him by the chin. The pressure around his jaw began bruising his skin, strong enough that it felt like his jaw would dislocate. He whimpered as the interrogator pull him closer to his face.

“Ke daominat eil ke sulat, tsaoto?”

Alekoran closed his eyes, hoping his exhaustion would take hold and let him escape this.