Melkorath hangs over the horizon. A ball of red with swirls of black. Anger paints its atmosphere and death scatters the surface. A marble of war. A great contrast to its brethren.
I stand on the very same painting. Red upon black. But instead of noxious iron oxide, the red liquid staining the floor is the blood of my pursuers. Back was the burnt metallic surface from the whirlwind of plasma and laser. The skin of my enemies lie either charred or bleeding. Those who had fur had blood sogging them.
In one instant, red ropes drew from my back. A tornado ensued in the little room. As soon as it came, every gore vanished from the wind. New meat and new memories. The ones I killed are low class mercenaries hired to hunt me down. The reason, I don't know. My old pursuers died a long time ago. These ones, they are new. They are better, faster and more inconspicuous since they employ different alien species.
Along with their memories, I also got their forms. My body absorbed millions upon millions of DNA template, most of which are human. Nevertheless, I need to change my form. This childish form of mine was already seen. The question is, what do I change into?