#junebug writes

Al–ni turned away from the cockpit as his pilot brought them down towards the towering skyscraper that was the headquarters of the company that sponsored the planet's colonization—Exomilia Solutions. With them at the helm, Exomilia had turned into a cement hellscape. There's nothing left of the land under it, the sprawl's gonna kill the rest. People are going to suffer and the suits are gonna laugh and take their entourages off-world and leave them all to die. Even me.

The hydraulics of the landing ramp hissed as it opened, allowing more of the vibrant colors into A––ni's slitted eyes. Even with the slight ache as his eyes adjusted, he straightened his loose shirt and held his feathery antennae high in a smile as he stepped down the ramp.

Awaiting him on the landing pad was another Dopteran, dressed in a sleek suit that caused the puff of gray fur on his chest to frame his head like an extra collar. His lower pair of arms uncrossed from behind him, spread wide in a happy greeting. "A–––i, it's wonderful to see you back here safe and sound!"

Him. Him. He who colonized this world and drained it of resources. He who decided to break this planet over his knees and leave it so ruined a single beat of his wings would shatter every structure on its surface. A–––– still couldn't figure out what project or reason needed every ounce of the planet's resources. It ate at him like a starved nymph in Exomilia's streets.

He– Mirel grinned at him, antennae high and jaws slightly flexed in that awful way he did it. Like a feral ancestor in Doptera's jungles, ready to strike. "You could not have picked a better time. If you'll look towards the streets, we have a situation on our hands."

He looked.

A flood of people were leaving the headquarters and its surrounding buildings. Even with the aurora, he could make out all the colors and patterns and wing and antennae shapes of a fair number of Dopteran subspecies. All of them, walking and flying away from Solutions, from their jobs. From Mirel.

––––– curled their antennae and splayed them in confusion, and hoped it was enough of a show. Inside, they couldn't have been happier.

"Didn't a festival start under the aurora?" they asked with only a glance a Mirel. "I know that's... more than usual, but wouldn't they be leaving to take part around this time anyway?

"I know you have your... fascination with them." Mirel's tone was low. Cold. They could hear a hint of a growl as it escaped his throat. "And without you, I doubt that festival would have cropped up."

Dopterans were a predator species. Hunters. Every muscle in –––––'s body told them to flee to run run run, run this time, he won't catch you, get it out out out, get it out! Their twin hearts trembled in panic.

Mirel rested his upper right arm on their shoulders, and that festering grin returned. "Of course, it does motivate them. And with those implants gaining popularity, they could keep track of every event, isn't that right?"

No, no, no, not again, not again, not again–

<I'm getting an increase in brain activity.>

"Genius little things you made, –––––. Truly genius."

<Clamp down on that code, we've almost got it.>

"But, I would like to solve this problem, this lack of work. And I think you'll love the experience."

<Wiping it now—>

The implant activated. Every thought in their mind burned away as pain filled every neuron from their bones to their chitin. Half the crowd screamed as they were wiped away. People fell from the air. ––––– collapsed to their knees and screamed with them as static rimmed their eyes.

<Get a handle on it!>

Mirel stood above them, his jaw spread wide in a hungry sneer. Blood-blue light bathed his maw. "You never were loyal to me, to Exomilia, or to Solutions, were you, –––––?