Korr'Vex stood in the observation chamber, his tendrils coiled in quiet anticipation. The jungle biome below shimmered with heat and movement - a living arena sculpted for precision and pain. Fifteen runners had entered. Twelve had survived. It was unacceptable.
He activated the neural interface embedded in his carapace. Data streamed across his vision: heart rates, movement patterns, stress indicators. The humans were adapting. Evolving. That was the problem.
Korr'Vex was not just a hunter. He was a curator of chaos and a master of the sport. For two hundred cycles, he had overseen ranches across three galaxies. He had hunted the finest prey - the swift, the clever, the defiant. But none had unsettled him like the humans.
They were erratic, Illogical, and yet, they endured.
His gaze fixed on one runner in particular: Malik Haruna. The one who moved like a whisper and thought like a predator. Korr'Vex had watched him for months. He had survived thirty-seven Hunts. That was unheard of.
More troubling: Malik had begun to change the others.
Korr'Vex replayed footage from the last Hunt. The runners moved in formation. They communicated silently. They covered each other's blind spots. It was not survival. It was a strategy.
He hissed softly, a sound of warning. The humans were no longer prey. They were becoming insurgents. They are planning something.
Vexari Culture: The Doctrine of Dominion
Korr'Vex accessed the Doctrine - the sacred code of the Vexari. It pulsed in his neural core:
"Dominion is earned through spectacle. The prey must run. The prey must fall. The prey must never rise."
It was the foundation of their empire. Across galaxies, they built ranches. They harvested the brightest minds. They turned brilliance into bloodsport. But Earth was different.
The humans had left behind messages. Schematics. Plans. Even in death, they resisted.
Korr'Vex had studied the escapee - Kael Idris. The scientist-engineer who vanished after the first failed escape. His data signature had resurfaced. Someone had accessed his encrypted cache.
Malik.
Tactical Response
Korr'Vex initiated a protocol: Phase Shift. The jungle biome would be altered. New predators introduced. Terrain destabilized. The next Hunt would be different.
He summoned his elite drones - sleek, silent, and laced with neurovenom. They would not chase. They would corner and he would descend.
For the first time in decades, Korr'Vex would enter the biome himself. Not as a watcher. As a hunter.
Internal Conflict
Yet something gnawed at him - a flicker of curiosity. Why did these humans fight so hard? Why did they leave messages for those who came after? Why did they believe in something beyond survival?
He accessed a fragment of Kael's transmission, intercepted years ago:
"We are not your prey. We are your reckoning."
Korr'Vex closed the feed. He would extinguish this spark before it became a blaze.