The world shakes beneath metal feet. The air stinks of oil and burning air, of steel grinding against steel, of something unnatural, something monstrous. They call it progress. They call it the future. I call it desecration.
Once, the earth was soft beneath our feet. Once, the sky belonged to the birds. Now, towering hulks of metal tear through the skies, drowning out the wind with their hollow, mechanical roars. Cities rise, not from the hands of craftsmen, but from machines that build themselves. The fields are plowed not by men who understand the soil, but by lifeless things that do not bleed, do not tire, do not dream.
They praise these creations. They kneel before their cold Gods of iron, believing themselves masters when they are nothing but leashed hounds. They no longer walk. They ride. They no longer think. They calculate. They no longer build. They command, and machines obey. The fire of effort, of struggle, of creation—it has all been extinguished, replaced with an artificial spark that neither flickers nor fades. They call that progress. I call it Death.
I have seen what their machines can do. I have watched them march, their soulless frames basking under a dull sky. I have heard their cannons thunder, watched as homes turned to rubble, as lives were crushed beneath steel hands that do not hesitate, do not question, do not mourn. I have felt the ground tremble as their war engines advanced, faceless, merciless, a tide of metal that devours everything in its path. I have seen what they leave behind. And I cannot forget.
Do they not understand? A man who kills must carry the weight of it. His hands must shake. His heart must bear the burden. But a machine does not weep for the lives it takes. A machine does not question the command to destroy. A machine does not know the difference between war and slaughter. And those who build them… they think themselves untouched, as if the blood does not stain their hands because they were not the ones who pulled the trigger.
I despise them.
Not just for what they are, but for what they took. For what they stole from me.
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[???]
("Hm… blonde hair and blue eyes… A spawn of the God of Knowledge, if I recall correctly.")
Perched atop the massive shoulder of the monstrous Magitech colossus—Alpha—Anuran's crimson eyes were narrowed in interest. She was not awed by the machine beneath her, nor was she intimidated by the two standing before it, If anything, she seemed entertained.
Her gaze drifted, shifting lazily to the other opponent, her smirk widened.
("And a Solkari? My, my… I have encountered quite the interesting adversaries today… How delightful.")
Fiona stood ready for a moment, her eyes locked onto the monstrosity of metal before her with a visceral glare. The enormity of Alpha was staggering—its presence dwarfed all.
The thing was unlike any Magitech construct she had ever seen.
Her ears twitched, her eyes narrowing as she muttered, "I've never seen Magitech like this before… And once more, it's practically brimming with mana."
She could feel it. The mana saturation was nearly suffocating, as if the air had been forcefully saturated with stolen power—an unnatural, wrong kind of presence that made her stomach twist.
Victoria's gaze scanned Alpha from head to toe, analyzing every joint, every filament, every unnatural movement. "Hmph… I surmised that Vel'ryr would bring Magitech…" she murmured. "But this… This design is entirely new."
Before either of them could speculate further, Anuran's voice cut through their thoughts.
"Oh, it is more than new," she mused, kicking her legs idly from her perch. "It is a prototype."
Her words made both tense, but what followed next caused a chill to settle in the pit of Fiona's stomach.
"Its core is fueled by siphoned mana from leylines and—" Anuran paused, grinning as if savoring the moment, "—the Divine Blade Nihil's residual energy. Its power output is approximately forty percent of a Great Dragon."
"…What?" Fiona blurted, as if she had misheard. But no—Anuran's expression told her she had not.
Victoria remained still, her expression shifting from contemplation to something graver.
("Divine Blade Nihil…?") she mulled, her mind racing. ("Her words may hold weight.") She turned her full attention to Alpha, this monstrosity, and in that instant—her understanding deepened. Her eyes scanned the war machine's colossal frame, piecing together its design. ("A Dragon Core… No, that's not quite right. A Dragon's Core functions as an absorption system… Lesser Dragons passively consume ambient mana and energy through their hearts, their cores. If that logic applies—then this machine… this thing… should not even be able to move. Its construction is fundamentally flawed. The joints, the gears—everything about its engineering suggests that it should be nothing more than a glorified statue, incapable of locomotion… Ah… I see now.")
Her fingers twitched slightly.
("It isn't moving on mere mechanics. It is moving on stolen life.")
She exhaled slowly, suppressing the unease welling in her throat. "Fiona," she spoke at last, voice steady.
The Solkari girl straightened, her expression dark.
"The Divine Relic in your possession… the Beast Gods… It allows you to harness and wield the power of the Astrothians, yes?"
Fiona's nodded slowly. "…Yes?"
Victoria did not hesitate. "Can you withstand an extremely prolonged battle while channeling it?"
A tense pause.
Fiona's ears flicked. She hated the implication behind that question. She knew what Victoria was suggesting. She chewed the inside of her cheek, running simulations in her mind.
"…If I prioritize fueling the Relic and abandon casting offensive spells or defensive enchantments, I can sustain it," she admitted at last.
Victoria nodded. "Then do so. That thing—" she gestured at Alpha, disgust creeping into her voice, "—is a glorified golem. The mana core allows for its movement, which means we have two viable paths: exhaust its fuel or destroy it outright."
Her gaze flickered toward the pulsating red core embedded within Alpha's chest—the living heart of the machine.
"…That centerpiece," she continued. "It is brimming with magic. That is your target."
Fiona exhaled sharply, nodding. "Understood."
"And—" Victoria added, "—I am not yet done analyzing it. For now, those are our best shots. But do not mistake this for an assured victory. We are at a severe disadvantage."
A flicker of hesitation passed through Fiona's gaze. She knew. She knew how dire this was.
Still… she forced a small, wary smile. "…Then I'll trust you to guide me."
Victoria smiled back.
A slow, amused clap echoed through the area.
"Oh my, oh my," Anuran purred, her voice lilting with mirth. "It seems I am being ignored. How very rude."
Her sharp eyes flickered to Fiona.
A hungry grin.
"Say… Solkari girl."
Fiona's ears flicked—her body went rigid at the tone.
A pause. A slow, inspecting glance.
"…Your kind is quite rare," Anuran mused, as if tasting the words. "And you've such a pretty face, as well."
Fiona's jaw tightened.
"What a shame," Anuran sighed, as if genuinely disappointed. "It would be a pity to ruin you. Tell me—"
"Save me your words." The venom in Fiona's voice was sharp enough to cut stone. "I will destroy that piece of Magitech filth—so keep quiet."
A slow, delighted chuckle followed.
"Oh?" Anuran murmured, tapping a single finger to her lips. "Confident, are we? Tell me, little wolf… have you already forgotten? Its power output is the equivalent of forty percent of a Great Dragon."
Anuran's smile widened.
"I wonder—"
Her eyes gleamed.
"Can you survive against a God?"
A single step.
A flicker of movement from Anuran, then the slow hum of machinery shifting. The heavy grind of steel screeched through the air as Alpha's chest began to open.
Panels of reinforced Magitech alloy split apart, revealing a web of gears, conduits and crackling mana circuitry. The red core, once veiled behind layers of heavy armor, now thrummed exposed, illuminating the construct's internal frame.
Anuran, perched atop Alpha's hulking form, grinned—and without hesitation, she stepped inside. The moment her feet touched the inner chamber, Alpha's form reacted as the chest closed back up.
The construct's gigantic left arm—an already monstrous, armored limb—began to shift. Metal groaned, twisted, and unraveled, its shape morphing into something.
Plates of alloy rearranged themselves with a mechanical clatter, exposing a vast internal barrel, its structure lined with mana-conductive alloys. Dozens of magic circuits surged with radiant red energy, converging toward the heart of the newly formed weapon.
A cannon.
A Magitech plasma cannon.
Fiona felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
"Move!" Her instincts screamed, her body responded before her mind could fully process what was about to happen.
Alpha's arm locked into place, the air around it bending, warping under the intensity of the energy conversion process.
A deep, resonating hummmmmmmm.
A charged ignition, a split-second of stillness—
Then—
A wave of red plasma erupted outward.
The blast consumed everything in its path, the force of the plasma discharge tore across the area like a hellish tidal wave, swallowing everything in its path with a blinding destruction. The ground was unmade in an instant.
Stone and soil were atomized on impact the air ignited, creating a deafening shockwave that ruptured the surrounding environment.
It became a scorched land. The world split apart, fissures carving through the terrain, sending debris skyward. Rock formations collapsed into dust, their structures unable to withstand the annihilation.
Everything was devoured, but Fiona was gone.
Or rather—
She had already moved, before the blast had even fully formed, Fiona's legs had coiled beneath her. And at the very last moment—she launched herself skyward.
Her figure, soaring high, high into the air, beyond the reach of the wave of plasma that had swallowed the battlefield whole, the heat, even from above, was unbearable.
She could feel it licking at her heels, searing the air around her, threatening to consume her mid-flight. She twisted her body midair, using the force of her ascent to flip into an aerial stance, her eyes immediately locking onto the smoldering ruin below.
("Victoria!")
She did not speak—she thought and in that instant, her thoughts did not remain her own.
A connection.
("Are you alright?")
For the briefest of moments—silence.
["Yes. I am unharmed."] The reply was calm—but distant, Fiona exhaled sharply.
("That thing—what was that? Plasma? How is a Magitech construct even capable of something like that?") She was beginning to think Anuran was not spouting lies of Alpha's capabilities.
Victoria's voice filtered through her thoughts, steady as ever.
["Alpha is not simply a machine it seems. It is a alteration of fundamental laws—an aberration of magic and technology mixed to a higher degree. Plasma, in its natural state, is not something that can be easily harnessed. However, through mana conversion, Alpha does not simply "fire" energy—it reconstructs it."]
Fiona's ears twitched, absorbing every word as she finally descended, landing gently and weightlessly on the charred ground.
("Mana… into plasma…?")
["Correct."]
Victoria stood at the very edge of the annihilated terrain, her posture relaxed. The wind carried the smell of scorched earth past her, but she did not move.
["Alpha's core draws mana from the leylines of this planet as well. By manipulating the flow at an atomic level, it forcibly overheats, converting raw mana into a highly volatile plasma state. Unlike traditional spells, which rely on existing elemental forces, this process seems to bypass the limitations of standard magic. In other words—"]
Her eyes flickered as she frowned.
["—Alpha does not cast magic. It forces magic into an unnatural state—weaponizing the very concept of destruction."]
Fiona's fists clenched.
("That means—!")
["Yes. It means Alpha does not have finite ammunition. As long as it has mana to consume, it can fire again. And again. And again."]
A realization sank into Fiona's chest like a stone, she wasn't just fighting a machine, she was fighting something that could not be exhausted. Something that could fire until the world burned away.
("…Then I just have to destroy it completely.")
Victoria's voice did not agree, but it also did not deny.
["If that is the path you choose, then you must act quickly."]
Below, Alpha's core pulsed once more, the cannon began to shift.
A low, rising hum, charging.
"Hm? Not giving up yet, I see," a voice resounded from Alpha's chest as the piece of magitech regarded her. "Impressive but bravery—"
Anuran halted her words, and Fiona did not have to question why. All present gazed towards the distance.
Towards something that should not have existed.