Chapter Text
Karkat watched his mutant, bright red blood dripping through the grooves of the metal floor as the imperial drones dragged his limp body through the halls of the battleship.
He had always known that they would kill him for his blood mutation eventually, but he’d figured the end would be sudden, culled on the spot after some public scrape drew the attention of the wrong troll. He guessed he should count himself lucky to still be alive, but at this point it just felt like they were prolonging his suffering. Now that they’d caught him, they were presumably dragging him to some farce of a trial before inevitably declaring him unworthy of continued existence. Same result, so what was the point?
(If Karkat was being honest with himself, he hadn’t expected to make it out of his adolescence. The fact that he had managed to avoid the drones through even one mating cycle had defied his own expectations. So really, he should feel good about coming out so ahead.)
Mostly though, he just felt tired. The stress of running and hiding for this long (not to mention the current blood loss) had taken its toll. He was ready for this to be over.
The drones hauled him up a set of steps, boots ringing on the metal landing as they marched forward. Unexpectedly, once they reached the top, they took a moment to drag him upright, forcing him to stand on his own two feet. Looking up, a set of ornate double doors stood before them, and inside, Karkat could hear the murmuring voices of what had to be a huge crowd of trolls. He wondered, vaguely, what about his situation had drawn such a huge crowd for his execution, as the doors slowly swung open.
The answer was immediately obvious, and not at all what he had expected.
The Condesce, her Imperious Condescension herself, Empress of Alternia and conqueror of the known galaxy, lounged on a throne on a raised dais overlooking a throng of trolls from every level of the hemospectrum. As was her custom, she was dressed in a tight black wetsuit that clung to her deadly curves, bedecked in heavy gold jewelry and hot pink makeup that served to remind all of her place at the top of the pecking order.
To her right, a step below the dais, a massive Subjugglator sat on a slightly smaller throne, leering ominously through his hideous facial scars and cracked face paint. There was also a small group of trolls and some pale, hornless aliens standing before her, who turned to face Karkat as he was pushed forward into the room.
Feeling the drones release his arms, Karkat drew himself up to his full height, glaring obstinately at his empress and resisting the urge to wipe away the blood dripping down his face. If the Condesce herself was planning to make an example of him, there was no point in trying to hide any longer.
As the occupants in the room took notice of his arrival, the room erupted into excited muttering. All eyes turned towards him, and there was an air of apprehension that Karkat knew could not possibly be good. Several highblooded trolls in the audience scowled at him with disgust. Those up by the throne, on the other hand, looked strangely calm.
“Whale hello there,” the Condesce smirked in her deep, velvety voice. “Gotta say I was expectfin you to be a little taller but you sure are the spitting image of him otherwise. You look like you’ve had a shell of a time getting here, buoy. Now get on up here, we’ve all been baitin’ for ya.”
Karkat lurched as the drones at his back gave him another push forward. Gritting his teeth against the pounding in his head, he limped towards her imposing form, compelled mainly by the desire to get this over with. The gaggle of trolls and aliens shuffled awkwardly out of his way as he approached.
“Aight then, I hate wasting time so imma keep this b-reef. It has recently come to my attention that our universe is gonna end reel soon. However, my trusty advisors here tell me that via the magic of prophesea or some bullcarp, there is a chance that a troll fitting some reely specific criteria might be able to save us all. Aranea, read this motherglubber the prophesea.”
She waved her hand lazily at the group by the dais, and a pretty cerulean blood wearing cat-eye glasses stepped forward. Karkat blinked in confusion and swayed on his feet.
Aranea pulled out what looked to be a bona fide scroll and unrolled it. Clearing her throat, she intoned “For indeed, the arrival of these ancient meteors marks the end of all things. What is not destroyed by their repeated impact will be wiped away by the vastness of the green sun, growing infinitely. But from the darkness of the furthest ring shines a faint glimmer of hope. For a troll, blessed with ancestry of most fervent religious significance, most uniquely qualified by blood, shall come together with the other races to birth a new universe, beginning the cycle anew in their image. The cherub will smile upon them, and in that light the people will be sent to begin again.”
A silence fell over the room at the enormity of the proclamation. Karkat’s heart dropped into his shoes, and then up into his throat. Yeah, this sounded bad, but why was this coming up at his trial? Quietly, Aranea rolled the scroll back up and stepped back into the group beside the dias.
With a heavy sigh, the Condesce pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yeah, so my first instinct when my dear frond Aranea here presented me with this prophesea was to say even if this is true, who gives a shit? What are the odds that any of this starts happenfin in our lifetimes? And then these meteors start showin up and this green sun pops up out of nowhere, and suddenly I gotta take this reel seariously.”
“So my first instinct is to call up Makara here, look at him, fervent as hell and just bloated with religious significance.” She gestures to the subjugglator in the chair next to her with an airy wave.
“Mothafuckin right,” Makara leered, and with a start, Karkat realized holy shit that’s his old friend Gamzee Makara. How the hell he went from the dopey guy Karkat used to be friends with to the hideously scarred, malevolent-looking beast before him he has no idea, but from the look in his eyes, he’d clearly taken a deep dive off the think-pan in the years since they last spoke.
Things just kept getting weirder by the second. Karkat had no idea how he could possibly be related to this, but he was starting to feel a glimmer of hope that they needed him for some reason.
“Howeva, my advisors suggested that we cast a wider net, not to put all our roe in one basket. So we start digging into the lore, and we find anotter religion. A reel fuckin heretical religion. So heretical that I once commanded its existence be completely wiped from the books. A religion led by a nubby horned guy with bright red blood outside the hemospectrum. And that’s where you come in, nubs.”
The Condesce jabs her finger at Karkat, nail sparkling with pink polish and gaudy gemstones. “Your ancestor was a big pain in my royal ass, and now you’re reapin’ the bennys, buoy. Imma give you an offer you can’t refuse. Fulfillet this prophesea for me, and I’ll make you a prince. I’ll set you up in a reel nice sandcastle, anything you want at your clawtips. Full pardons, blood mutation and all the shit your ancestor made me deal with a thing of the past.”
“Now I figure, all you’ve got to do is catch the attention of one of those cherubs and get them to smile or somefin. And from what I’m told, there’s a ritual you gotta do and it’s reel easy. All you need to do to get their attention is…” The Condesce grins cruelly, as if thinking of a sick joke. “Well, maybe I’ll leave the details between you and your future lovers.”
Karkat swayed on his feet again. This could not be real. Surely the blood loss was getting to him.
The Condesce was still grinning, her sharp teeth impossibly white against her hot pink lips, and shrugged. “Or I could just cull you, of course. So, water you say?”
In fact, the blood loss was definitely getting to him. Spots were beginning to swim in his vision and darkness was creeping in from the sides. He had just enough time to say “I think I’m gonna pass out,” before the darkness overtook him.