Chapter 147: The art of torture

I am not fond of torture... At first, I had not been fond of it.

It is not until my own sibling bit my hand and began to kill off the younger ones that I noticed it is effective.

Mother had birthed a lot of pods.

Til now over a few million Khaos years she had birthed over thirty pods containing one of eight siblings each.

Now she had stopped. There will be no more because we, her offspring are mature and able to birth the next generation.

Or something like that.

Actually, our father sires had no desire for more offspring because we were in the way.

Anyway, I should have plenty of siblings, right?

Over a hundred at least.

But this one sibling seemed to have a thirst for power.

She seemed to just rip through them like a knife slicing through butter. Mercilessly.

without a care.

Why?

What happened to her?

I could not understand. I have tried to understand her, but it was all futile.