Predators

There are two metroids before me. One of them is still alive.

The one that isn't, the one whom I slaughtered five minutes ago, is an alpha. A name I coined myself after seeing it emerge from the shell of the metroids that I've fought on planets such as Zebes and Tallon IV. It is a creature that caught me off-guard in the surface tunnels of SR-388, and a creature whose life I was still able to end. That one, whose life was taken close to a day ago, was dangerous. Down here, in the caverns, these tunnels that are steadily bereft of life, was nothing. Because once again I find myself in the shadow of the chozo. A shadow I can't escape, even if all that remains of this mighty race are dust and echoes. Like Zebes, it's as if the chozo are guiding me. Like Zebes, all manner of technology has been left behind, as if they knew I would come to this place one day. They called me the galaxy's protector. Now, beholding the sight in front of me, I'm not sure what I am.

The alpha is dead. The creature beside it, hissing, spitting, screeching, is not. It is large, and even wounded as it is, I keep my distance. Even the simplest lifeforms on this barren world can pose a threat. The metroids themselves are danger incarnate. Alphas, betas, and gammas have all been fought. Have all been given names by me in an attempt to document their lifecycle. Partly because there are those within the Federation that want this species to be catalogued before it is removed from the galaxy. Partly because it is easier to rise above fear when your enemy has a name. But this metroid, this giant, this one that uses one eye to stare with rage, and the other to stare with grief...its name breaks the cycle. Perhaps in regret, perhaps in hope, I have given it the designation of omega.

Am I surprised to see the twin emotions in its eyes - one reserved for the alpha beside us, another reserved for myself? With but a shot I could put it out of its misery. I could see that counter in my HUD tick down, reminding me of any many creatures I've yet to slaughter. And yet, I don't. And that bothers me - the aftermath of the act, as much as the act itself. I've killed so many creatures. Sapients as well have not escaped the Hunter. Mostly Space Pirates, but while the first, they are not the only. Kriken. Enoema. Vhozon. Even fellow humans at times. But never like this. For all my sins, I've never been complicit in xenocide. A word that didn't even exist in the Federation lexicon until five days ago, and a word that is probably still being debated on Daiban. But then, that is the Federation. It's the most powerful force in the galaxy, and a paragon of peace, justice, and prosperity...but while it rules the stars, it can't bear to get down into the dirt.

The omega hisses, and I shake my head. Self-pity doesn't become me, and self-flagellation won't keep me alive. A deal was made, a contract agreed to, and at the time, I thought nothing of it. I've seen what metroids can do. I can imagine, perhaps more than anyone, what havoc they'd wreck if they spread across the stars. History may judge us harshly, but at least history will be in a place to do so. Because I've seen the crumbling chozo ruins. I've seen their malfunctioning automatons. I've walked through those ruins, fought metroids in those ruins, and have been unable to shake the feeling that the two are linked. But whatever the origin of the metroids, I am to be their end. So at last, I pull the trigger. At last, the omega falls silent. Alpha and omega, lying side by side, their blood feeding the ground, and anointing my armour.

Predators, I reflect. We're all predators. The metroids prey on the life of this world, which is why I've steadily encountered less of it the further I've travelled down. I've preyed on that life, and now, I prey on these creatures as well. My suit's energy tanks are recharged. The micro-missile fabricator gets to work. Death begets death, and the counter in my HUD trickles down - 4. 4 more metroids to kill. 4 more lives to take, before SR-388's apex predator stands triumphant.

The ground begins to shake, and once again, I hear something. A sound I'm certain I've heard before, but this time, clearer than ever. A roar, I wonder? A wail? Looking at the omega, I fail to see any reproductive organs. And perhaps metroids reproduce entirely asexually. Perhaps the so-called omega is the end of their lifecycle. Or perhaps there is something else. Something more. Something that births these creatures, and senses each of their deaths. Stranger things exist in this galaxy after all, and I've encountered them. But if the metroids have a 'mother,' if it is her grief that I hear echoing through these forsaken halls...I cannot say anything. I only know the grief of a child. The grief of a parent is one I know not, and never will. For how could I bring life into a universe when up until now, all I've brought is death?

I don't know. I don't know the answer, and I don't know why I'm even asking these questions. The metroids before me are dead. 4 metroids have yet to die. After I recharge my suit, after more creatures are slaughtered to recharge my energy tanks, I'll descend further into the depths of this planet. Like the circles of Hell, perhaps. Or perhaps nothing of the sort.

Either way, I turn and begin walking through the gloom. Activating my suit's scanner to detect any sign of life.

After all, we're all predators here.