He looked up at the cloudy sky, and at the red sand on his feet that stretched for dozens of kilometers.
It was then that a deep rumble shook the ground beneath him, jolting him brutally from his thoughts.
'Hmm?'
A slender creature burst from the sand, jaws wide open, revealing rows of sharp teeth.
*Shrill screams!!!*
Zrahel furrowed his brow. 'Way too loud...'
With a simple gesture, he clenched his fist. The worm twisted before collapsing in on itself, compressed into a bloody mass of flesh by an invisible force.
The sand exploded. Three sand worm silhouettes burst forth, their jagged maws aiming at Zrahel simultaneously.
He snapped his fingers.
The first worm slammed into the ground, flattened like it had been pressed by a hydraulic machine. With a backhand swipe, Zrahel sliced the second one cleanly in two. The third leaped just as he abruptly clenched his fist—the creature imploded into a bloody mass.
He sensed more emerging from the ground, so he quickly pivoted and slammed a fist downward.
The shockwave tore through the air with a supersonic boom. The desert trembled. Dunes vaporized for hundreds of meters, revealing a layer of blackened rock.
Zrahel adjusted his coat with a casual gesture and resumed his walk, treading on the molten glass his attack had created.
He walked through the remains. When five Sentinel units encircled Zrahel from the air. One of them, likely the commander, pointed his impulse cannon.
"Unknown. Identify yourself immediately."
Zrahel looked up, visibly unimpressed.
"Ah... You, lower your tone. I've got a headache."
"If you do not identify yourself within five seconds, we will be forced to open fire."
"Are you threatening me? I don't know you, and you don't know me, but you want to jump down my throat?"
"This is a regulated planet. You don't land here without authorization. Are you a rebel? A smuggler? A damn revolutionary, I suppose..."
Zrahel sighed deeply.
"You're annoying."
He disappeared.
A fraction of a second later, he was in front of the lieutenant. His hand pierced the man's throat, tearing out the trachea and esophagus with a viscous sound. The body fell into spasms, while blood spurted in thick gouts.
"OPEN FIRE!!" one of the soldiers screamed.
But Zrahel was already elsewhere.
He struck another's chest with such force that the ribs exploded into shards and the heart burst from his back. A third attempted a strike with his laser sword; Zrahel leaned, placed a hand on the ground, and propelled himself backward, narrowly avoiding the crossfire.
Not that it would have made much difference if he'd been hit.
*Singularity: Matter*
The sand compacted, twisted into sharp spikes that shot out in a straight line, impaling two living soldiers. Their screams were short. Sharp. Muffled by the blood in their lungs.
"It's a MONSTER!"
"Pl- Please... no.. no.. no...!"
Zrahel pointed a finger. A neon wave discharge blew their heads apart, sending their brains splattering onto the sand.
His breathing became ragged.
"Ahhh!! PLEASE! I BEG YOU!"
*Splash*
With the tip of his index finger, he exploded the skull.
Zrahel clenched his teeth, his head pounding with pain.
'Kill them! Kill them! These insects, they must pay for what they did to the goddess! Kill them!
Kill them!
Kill them!
Kill them!
Rip out their hearts!
Eat their entrails!
Exterminate their race!
Avenge us—'
His hands trembled.
"Her again..." he muttered. "That damn voice. Who is this 'goddess'?"
'Eat their entrails! Burn them all!'
He clenched his teeth, bent his knees, and crouched before the dying lieutenant.
"Smart move~. I just had a headache. Now I've got an uncontrollable urge to murder. Nice going."
He gripped the man's jaw. His fingers pressed, crushing the bone, the eye sockets popping out.
"What—What do you want!?" the man managed to ask.
"SILENCE!!"
*Splash.*
"For once in my damn skull!"
'Kill them!
Kill them!
Kill them!
Kill them!
Kill them!'
He inhaled, trying to clear his mind of the toxic thoughts.
His breathing was ragged, but with deep breaths, his mind slowly calmed. But something else was wrong.
The lieutenant's corpse... was disintegrating into ashes. Logically, he should still have some of his quantum numbers left.
"Huh?" He reached out. A black-violet glow pulsed in his hand. "That's not neon. What is...?"
He watched the energy pulse through his veins.
"It seems even I don't know everything about my body."
He closed his eyes for a moment. Then he stood up.
"I need to find Ashera so she can explain."
He levitated slightly off the ground, then disappeared in a sonic boom toward the nearest city.
If Zrahel was known as being utterly OP, he did indeed have one great weakness. Because of his power and extreme affinity with waves, he was far too sensitive to sound; he could hear the noises of the entire galaxy if he wanted, not just voices but anything that emitted a wave. And even instinctively, his ears were far too sharp, causing him a permanent, infernal headache, on top of his completely uncontrollable inner voices.
That's why he hated noise so much. He wanted only one thing right now.
"Silence."
***
Zrahel's silhouette pierced the clouds and descended into a small village. There was nothing interesting. He walked through the streets, where there were obviously Gammahans, with six arms and black skin. He was curious about what he was doing here, but strangers were not uncommon on Gamma-4, so they minded their own business.
"Excuse me… Is there a place where I can find information…?" Zrahel stopped a passerby.
"@#€&&@" The other tried to communicate, but neither he nor the Gammahans understood.
Zrahel sighed. Neither he nor the locals seemed to understand.
"It would be nice to have a translation device…" he muttered, examining the passerby's gestures.
"...Since not all races speak the universal language."
He tried to mimic the movements, hoping to communicate through mimicry. After a few minutes of pantomime, the Gammahan pointed to a building further away, apparently a bar.