He sat in a hard metal chair, tapping the arm restlessly with his power fist while his left hand held up his head by the chin. The guards, whom he dwarfed in size by comparison, looked at the giant they had escorted in the room with total fear. Having him in such an enclosed space was dangerous, but he had an air of calm around him today. The tenth hour of imprisonment had passed by without much trouble, for it was the day that he had the chance of negotiating with the spokesman of the United Nations. When the clock ticked noon, he grew impatient. Fresh from an ordeal regarding a failed attempt at rebuilding his home-world, he wasn’t in the best of moods. He was imprisoned as soon as he landed on Earth, thus adding to his displeasure. He finally had a chance to ask why this was and it was the human who was late. Almost growling, he kept his power fist from balling around the stub of the chair’s armrest yet couldn’t help but leave imprints of its fingers in the material. Finally, the door he had been staring at opened and he relaxed his posture. Two more guards entered the room with shotguns, adding to the two behind him with electric batons. A new sound added to the crackle he had become accustomed to after the past few hours as one of the guards set a laptop on the table and opened it, plugging a microphone into the appropriate socket before turning it to the prisoner. The man on the screen, a well-dressed man of older age with a well-trimmed beard, seemed startled by the alien’s wrinkled, war-torn, skin, but quickly regained his composure even while under the gaze of the prisoner’s cybernetic eye.
“Mister Kaligar Roxom, I presume?”
“Do you know why you are here?”
“No. Enlighten me.”
“You are here because of your intent to re-establish yourself. Due to your vast criminal record, we do not want you here.”
“And what has stopped you from doing the same to other villains?”
There was a pause.
“I thought so. I want to address something to you, ambassador,”
“The humans are not supreme. They cannot police me before they can police themselves.”
“This is not just a matter of your criminal record, Mister Roxom,” he was a professional, not even remotely letting the previous comment affect him. Kaligar sank back into his chair, intrigued. “This is also a matter of keeping order. There have been concerns that you want to destroy the human race, that you want to conquer our world, and that you want to wipe out any clue that we were here.”
“That is absurd. If any of that were true, I would have already done it.”
Another pause from the man, and he adjusted his glasses before speaking again.
“That does not pardon you from your past attempts to-,”
“My past attempts have nothing to do with the present,” Kaligar interrupted. The man on the screen seemed flustered, but allowed him to continue. “You’re just afraid of me.”
“We do not fear you, we merely wish for you to go away.”
“Is that why you went to the trouble of erasing my records?”
He seemed stunned, like the alien wasn’t supposed to know that.
“I’m not stupid. It seems the people of Russia still haven’t forgiven me for the Light Wars incident. I do not blame them. They are a proud branch of the human race, but they are as violent in politics as they are on the battlefield.”
“It is true that the Russian government has given us information regarding you as Czar, but nothing about that.”
So Kaligar’s guess was right. He felt betrayed and his heart wrenched itself a little tighter knowing that he led those people once.
“Stop playing dumb. The humans will go to any lengths necessary to ensure that the world runs like they want it to. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Then explain how it does work.”
“I don’t want to bore you with the details.” Kaligar adds a smug grin, earning him a wince from his audience.
“We can handle ourselves perfectly without you.”
“You’ve done a miserable job so far.”
“We don’t need your help.”
“Nor do I need your judgment. I am not going to be imprisoned on a mere technicality.”
“You are imprisoned because you’re a murderer!”
Kaligar’s lips parted wider as he sunk into his chair.
“So, we’re approaching the subject of murder eh?”
The man on the screen adjusted his glasses and looked down his nose at the alien. Waves of remembrance washed over Kaligar’s mind, bathing it in the memories of Symaar. He did not want to lose his home for a third time. Regret and sadness soon became anger, and he spoke again.
“You humans are some of the most violent creatures I’ve met. Your overinflated sense of self-superiority is sickening. I hold respect for very few of you.”
“We don’t need your respect. We don’t need anything from you. We just want you off our planet.”
“You don’t realize how lucky you are to have a planet, do you?”
“Just because you don’t have a home doesn’t mean-,”
“Doesn’t mean what? That I can’t show you the truth? The universe is a big place, ambassador. You were never alone and always watched. The human race is spoiled. Perhaps I should teach it manners.”
“We don’t want your-,”
“You might not want it, but you need my help. You need this test.”
“Isn’t it obvious, ambassador? I’m declaring war on your miserable Neanderthal-derived people.”
“W-What?” he gasped. The soldiers in the room prepared their weapons to escort Kaligar back into his cell. There was always a risk of this getting out-of-hand.
“I will humble the human race, ambassador. I will humble them all from the superhumans to the vermin of society. No-one will be without knowledge of their inferiority in the scope of the cosmos. To better suit all challengers, I shall meet them in Lebanon, Kansas – the exact center of this country.”
Ignoring the soldiers, he stood up out of his chair. When commanded to sit back down, he turned and faced the wall opposite the door. He flicked at the concrete, making it fall into an artificial avalanche resulting in a large opening. Below him were twenty stories of cells, but beyond him was freedom. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils as the electric batons and shotgun shells bounced off his body. The guards stopped after the first attempt to bring him down. It was entirely pointless and they backed off. The ambassador watched in horror as Kaligar turned back around, saluting him along with smiling at him. His eyes flashed with a subtle white aura as he took a leap into the air, landing at the foot of the prison complex before taking a stroll down the main road. He ignored the sirens and bullets ricocheting off his back, smiling at his pleasant surroundings. He deliberately kept the tracking device on his ankle. The press would release his destination in a matter of minutes. He didn’t want to keep them in suspense, so he knelt low and soared into the heavens in a single bound. He predicted that he would reach Lebanon just as they were receiving the news about his escape. They would be ill-prepared for his attack.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the laptop, the ambassador stuttered. The cameramen from all major news networks stood still for a moment. It was the ambassador who recovered first.
“That alien bastard.”