From Idler to Tech Tycoon: Earth
Chapter 109: Dragon’s Ascent

Chapter 109: Chapter 109: Dragon’s Ascent

The gargantuan doors of the central chamber hissed open, exhaling a gust of cold, metallic air into the passage as Apostle Krill Khian and Lord Krull’Kahn stepped through. Their heavy, resonant footsteps echoed in the vast, cylindrical space that stretched before them, its polished, dark metallic walls curving upward and away into a distant, shadowed ceiling. But it was not the grandeur of the architecture that commanded their immediate attention.

Beyond the curved panoramic windows, embedded deep within the walls, lay the chilling panorama of the harvest. Thousands upon thousands of human figures, pale and inert, were suspended in transparent pods that descended downwards into the silent void. Tubes, as transparent as the pods themselves, snaked away from each figure, converging into colossal transparent tanks that pulsed with a dark, viscous crimson. This was the lifeblood, the very essence of humanity, continuously drawn and pooled.

A network of complex, humming processors filtered this gruesome bounty, the dark liquid feeding into intricate machinery. From the output, smaller, clearer tanks glowed with a faint, iridescent light, containing a viscous, silver-glittering substance – the refined essence, the true nectar that fueled their race.

Khian’s gaze swept over the grim tableau with a serene, almost detached appreciation for its efficiency. Krull’Kahn, however, allowed a slight, almost imperceptible narrowing of his reptilian eyes as he surveyed the sheer volume of their human "cattle," a flicker of satisfaction at the endless supply. This lunar facility was the heart of their empire’s sustenance, a stark monument to their absolute dominance.

As they proceeded deeper into the chamber, other reptilian nobles, often in pairs, dotted the vast space. Their scales varied in color and texture, from jade green to obsidian black, from shimmering gold to dull, armored gray. Their noble garments, subtly different in design, denoted their lineage and status, each a testament to centuries of selective breeding and ruthless conquest. They stood or sat in anticipation, a hushed reverence in the air, all eyes eventually drawn to the far end of a colossal, ornate table, where the Chancellor himself was already seated, his form imposing even from a distance.

Krull’Kahn and Khian moved with practiced deference, their immense forms gliding towards the head of the table. As they drew nearer, Chancellor Krill Shuha’dar rose to address the assembled nobles. His true stature became devastatingly apparent. A staggering fifty feet tall, his scales were a dark, polished obsidian, yet streaks of pure, ancient white adorned his mighty arms, face, and the coiled length of his tail. From his mighty shoulders, a pair of majestic wings, tightly folded but unmistakably present, denoted an extraordinary evolutionary leap. A crown of sharp, crystalline horns, like jagged, polished onyx, adorned his regal head.

Among the Krill, possessing wings, white scales, and crowned horns was the pinnacle of honor, marking an evolution towards a draconic line—a lineage they worshipped, the very creatures human myths called dragons.

Krill Shuha’dar had not merely achieved this, he embodied it; he had reached Stage 2 of this evolutionary path: "Scale Winged Drake," an early maturity of the draconic line. This transformation not only granted him unparalleled physical prowess but also the innate ability to suppress and emit an overwhelming fear aura, particularly potent against inferior species.

As Chancellor Shuha’dar stood fully, the invisible, crushing wave of psychic energy that was his pure, unadulterated fear-aura emanated from him, flooding the chamber. Instantly, reptilians who had not even touched Stage 1 of the draconic evolution were driven forcefully to their knees, their forms trembling uncontrollably, eyes wide with instinctive terror.

A collective gasp, quickly suppressed, rippled through them. Lord Krull’Kahn and Apostle Krill Khian, despite their own formidable power and high status, felt the intense pressure of the aura. A profound weakness washed over them, their knees buckling almost imperceptibly, their internal organs feeling momentarily crushed. It felt like dying, a familiar sensation they’d endured countless times in the Chancellor’s presence.

They maintained their posture through sheer force of will and ingrained discipline, their faces betraying only a slight, almost imperceptible grimace. This familiar agony was a constant reminder of true power, a perpetual re-calibration of their place in the lineage.

Chancellor Shuha’dar’s voice was a deep, resonant rumble that vibrated through the very bones of all present, a sound like grinding tectonic plates. His gaze swept over the assembled nobles, lingering for a moment on Krull’Kahn and Khian, acknowledging their arrival. His words, when they came, were focused on the singular imperative that drove their entire civilization.

"My Lords, my Apostles," Chancellor Shuha’dar intoned, the words echoing with chilling authority. "Your presence is required for the review of the current cycle’s harvest. The quotas are... unsatisfactory. The evolutionary imperative demands more. We cannot falter."

Krull’Kahn and Khian exchanged a knowing look, bracing themselves internally. The air in the chamber crackled with unspoken pressure and anticipation. The meeting had begun, and with it, the relentless, unforgiving demands of the Krill empire.

"Let the tithe of essence be known. Report your zones, your harvests. Begin." Chancellor Shuha’dar’s voice, a resonant rumble like grinding tectonic plates, initiated the formal review, echoing through the vast chamber.

A pair of lean, pale-scaled reptilians, Krill Vess and Krill Zoran, assigned to the Nordic zone, were the first to speak. Their voices, though disciplined, were tinged with apprehension. "Chancellor. Our zone, sector ’N-7’ – known to humans as ’Sweden’ – reports a decline in monthly harvest. Reproduction rates remain stubbornly low. Sustained growth will require a longer cultivation cycle, at least standard cycle." The data was clear: high-development, low-reproduction countries were a slow burn, demanding a delicate, long-term approach to avoid detection.

The next pair, Krill Trak and Krill Lyra, representing the United Kingdom, presented their report with a hint of carefully restrained pride. "Chancellor. Sector ’Britannia.’ We report an increase of seven percent this cycle. Efficient infrastructure, minimal interference." Even modest increases were noted in these highly monitored regions, consistency valued over volatile surges.

Other pairs followed, reporting from various European sectors. Krill Gor and Krill S’vara from France detailed stagnation in some areas, while Krill N’thal and Krill Xyra from Germany noted minor, hard-won gains. Each report painted a picture of the Concordance’s intricate, granular control, adapting their grim harvest to the specific conditions of each human nation.

Then came the turn of the sectors with the most substantial gains. A series of burly, darker-scaled reptilians, their expressions radiating a confident satisfaction, stepped forward. Krill Dax and Krill Mara from West Africa, Krill Korr and Krill Vexa from Central Africa, and Krill Z’thar and Krill Jena from East Africa reported in succession, their voices booming with their success.

"Chancellor!" Krill Dax announced, his voice a guttural roar that resonated with brutal efficiency. "Our zones across the African continent report a sustained surge. Monthly harvest increased by three hundred percent! Economic instability, coupled with limited external oversight from the ’superior’ nations, allows for... facile procurement. Especially of younglings and adults."

It was a grim highlight of human suffering, a cold testament to vulnerability. The casual mention of "younglings" underscored their utter disregard for human life, a chilling statistic offered without a hint of remorse.

Lord Krull’Kahn and Apostle Krill Khian, already positioned near the Chancellor’s immense form, offered their report. They stood at the 19th rank in the current cycle, a position they explained with strategic nuance.

"Chancellor. Sector ’North America Primary,’ known as the ’United States,’" Apostle Krill Khian stated, her sibilant voice unwavering. "We achieved a forty percent increase this monthly cycle. Our primary focus remains on central distribution logistics for zones with low native reproduction rates, ensuring their consistent supply through covert transfers."

Lord Krull’Kahn elaborated, his rumble deeper. "Maintaining a consistent harvest in high-economic-value sectors presents unique challenges. The risk of widespread human awareness and civic unrest due to disappearances is... undesirable. Such territories yield higher-quality essence, but lower volume. Conversely, low-economic territories, often with dictatorial governance and minimal external oversight, allow for greater volume of harvest, but at the cost of inconsistent local reproduction rates. A precarious balance, Chancellor." They were justifying their lower rank, emphasizing the strategic importance and difficulty of their assigned region, outlining the Concordance’s sophisticated, long-term strategic thinking, carefully avoiding full-scale collapse while still extracting resources.

Finally, the two highest-ranking pairs approached, visibly radiating a subtle arrogance born of their exceptional results. Krill Rask and Krill Zyla from Russia, their scales a deep, icy blue, were the first. "Chancellor. Sector ’Eurasia-Prime,’ or ’Russia.’ We proudly report a seven hundred percent increase this cycle, securing the second-highest harvest."

Then came Krill Shen and Krill Kai from China, their green-black scales gleaming in the chamber’s light. Their report was delivered with an almost triumphant air. "Chancellor! Sector ’East Asia Hegemon,’ ’China.’ With a population exceeding two billion, it remains the ’golden goose’ our race covets. We report an unprecedented two thousand percent increase this cycle, totaling 1.3 million human units harvested monthly. Our growth is unparalleled." The sheer scale of the harvest from these nations was terrifying, indicating mass disappearances that were likely attributed to other societal problems, highlighting the Concordance’s exploitation of densely populated areas and political systems that allowed for such large-scale management.

Chancellor Shuha’dar, having listened to each report, allowed a moment of silence to settle, the only sound the low hum of the distant processing tanks. Then he addressed the entire assembly, revealing the true incentive system that drove their ruthless ambition.

"And for your efforts," he boomed, his voice echoing, "a continued opportunity for ascension. As is known, for every fifty thousand human units harvested monthly, one is awarded zero point one point. A cumulative total of one thousand points grants the right to partake in the revered Draconic Blood. The genetic code of true power." The entire system was a brutal, quantifiable game, incentivizing the mass slaughter of humans for personal gain within the reptilian hierarchy. The "Draconic Blood" was not just symbolic; it was a literal genetic upgrade, tying directly back to the Chancellor’s own evolution.

He paused, allowing the implications of the reports and the reward system to sink in. Upon achieving the 1000 points and claiming the Draconic Blood, a successful pair was immediately replaced by a new noble pair from their homeworld, deep within the Draco constellation, approximately four hundred light-years away. This ensured a continuous flow of aspiring nobles and prevented stagnation, a testament to the multi-generational, vast scale of their operation.

A palpable sense of renewed, desperate ambition washed over many of the assembled nobles. The hunt continued, fueled by the ultimate prize of draconic evolution, ensuring the horrifying, systematic exploitation of humanity would continue, endlessly.