They Left Her for the Ravens. The Alien Had Other Plans | HFY Sci‑Fi - video Dailymotion

Sarge's Tales

cinematic sci‑fi fantasy thumbnail, storm‑lashed sea against towering cliffs, teal waves crashing with white spray, flocks of black ravens swirling, dramatic sky, green‑skinned alien woman chained to the rocks, windswept hair, determined fierce expression, broken iron chain in hand, PG‑13 (no nudity, no gore), heroic composition, strong rim light, teal‑orange color grade, ultra‑detailed, HDR, sharp focus, negative space on the right for title, rule of thirds, 35mm wide shot, 8k quality --ar 16:9 --v 6 --stylize 250 --chaos 8 --quality 1 NEGATIVE: text, watermark, logo, heavy blood, deformed hands, extra fingers, blur, low-res

Transcript

00:00Welcome to the world of science fiction where extraordinary tales come to life. Enjoy the journey.

00:06Cider, now shut up and listen. The words cut through the bar's ambient noise like a blade

00:12through smoke. This isn't some bedtime story. This is the reality I lived through.

00:19The storyteller took a long pull from her glass, the Kryptonian ale casting blue shadows across

00:26her knuckles. Around them, the bar hummed with the usual mix of freight runners, mercenaries,

00:33and people trying to forget which side of the law they'd woken up on. Nobody paid attention to another

00:39drunk spinning tails in a corner booth, which was exactly how she wanted it. This was 25 years ago,

00:46she continued, her voice dropping to that particular register that made smart people lean in and stupid

00:53people lean back. During the fall of the Tyrian Empire, when the universe learned that empires

00:59don't collapse, they shatter and the shrapnel cuts everyone nearby. Cider shifted in his seat trying

01:07to look bored, but his hand had stopped inching toward his weapon. Good. She needed him listening,

01:14not thinking. Let me tell you about the night the Bureau of Last Word sent their best killer after

01:20a woman who couldn't die in darkness, and what happened when he decided to change the script.

01:26The Corvid drones found their rhythm in the storm. Three wing beats, pause, dive. Three wing beats,

01:33pause, dive. Their metallic feathers sang against the wind. Each note calibrated to harmonize with human

01:41screaming. Akita Knave had stopped giving them that satisfaction an hour ago. She hung from the rusted

01:48arches driven deep into the cliff face, her wrists wrapped in bio cables that pulsed with low current,

01:55enough to hurt, not enough to kill. The storm drove walls of seawater against her, salt crystallizing

02:03on her emerald skin between waves. Her black hair whipped like torn battle flags. The drone's talons

02:10had shredded her cloak to ribbons that now danced in the wind, leaving her back exposed to their

02:16methodical attention. Lightning cracked overhead, and in that split second of white light, she saw them

02:23clearly. Six Corvid drones, their AI cores borrowed from Earth's old neural networks, upgraded with

02:30Tyrion cruelty protocols. Beautiful in the way that weapons were beautiful, honest in their purpose.

02:38Another wave slammed into her, driving salt water down her throat. She spat, tasting copper and brine.

02:45The bio cables tightened automatically, pulling her arms higher, spreading her weight across screaming

02:51shoulders. The position was designed by experts. Sustainable agony, the kind that broke people over

02:58hours rather than minutes. Still breathing, puppet. The lead Corvid's voice synthesizer crackled with

03:06static, almost lost in the storm. The interrogators arrive within the hour. Would you prefer to be

03:13conscious or unconscious when they begin? Akita lifted her head, water streaming from her face?

03:20I'd prefer you ask better questions. The drone tilted its head, a disturbingly organic gesture.

03:28Such as? Such as who's walking up behind you in this storm like he owns it? Kasrevik lit his cigarette

03:36with practiced ease, cupping his hand against the wind with the patience of a man who'd learned to smoke in

03:42war zones. The small flame illuminated weathered features for a heartbeat, sharp cheekbones, a scar through his

03:50left eyebrow, eyes the color of old gunmetal. The kind of face that made smart people reconsider their life

03:58choices. He'd walk two miles through the storm, his long coat snapping like a wet sail. His boots found

04:06purchase on rain-slicked stone with unconscious precision. Water ran off him in sheets, but the

04:13cigarette between his lips stayed lit. A small, deliberate miracle that spoke to either extensive

04:20training or inhuman stubbornness. The Corvids noticed him when he was twenty feet away. Three immediately

04:27shifted position, forming a defensive triangle. Professional threat assessment, executed flawlessly.

04:35They recognized him not as a man, but as a weapon in human form. Federal Bureau of Last Word,

04:41Kas announced, smoke curling from his mouth to mix with the rain. His voice carried despite the storm,

04:48not by shouting, but through the particular frequency that cut through chaos. Authentication code,

04:54red 7-7 tango. The lead Corvid processed this for 1.3 seconds.

They Left Her for the Ravens. The Alien Had Other Plans | HFY Sci‑Fi

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