The battlefield was silent but tense, a wasteland of broken metal and scorched earth. Hyperion stood across from Kaiden, whose breath came in sharp bursts, the air around him vibrating with unnatural heat.
"He'll take me seriously, huh?" Hyperion muttered, voice low. "I guess I do want to see what makes him so strong."
Kaiden's body convulsed as if his bones were boiling beneath his skin. From his mouth, nostrils, and eyes, molten metal began to pour, the sound a grotesque gurgle of magic and matter fusing together. The liquid pooled around his feet before climbing upward, wrapping him in layers of steel that hardened into armor.
When the process was complete, Kaiden no longer resembled a man. What stood in his place was a hulking, eleven meter titan of iron, his lower limb with spiked maces where hands should have been. The ground cracked beneath its weight.
"You shall pay for mocking those beyond your pitiful scope of power!" the metal giant roared, his voice distorted.
A moment later, a spear of pure metal erupted from his chest and hurtled toward Hyperion. The projectile screamed through the air like a comet, faster than a regular eye could follow.
Hyperion caught it.
The impact split the ground under his feet, dust swirling in a blinding halo. He turned the weapon around with a flick of his wrist and hurled it back; faster, harder, sharper. It struck Kaiden square in the torso, ringing like a bell. But when the dust cleared, the giant hadn't even flinched.
"Interesting," Hyperion said, examining his fingers as though testing their strength. "An object made of the same metal as your body, moving faster than your own attack… and yet, not a scratch."
Kaiden laughed, a sound like grinding chains. "Do you still think you stand a chance? This is my ultimate form, the form that made me worthy of Sir Harlem's grace! A mere teenager cannot hope to fight me and live!"
The maces on his arms twisted, reshaping into glinting blades. He charged, his footfalls collapsing the dirt beneath him. The air screamed as he swung, each strike carving pressure waves that flattened the grass and further destroyed the rubble that was left on the formerly luxurious manor.
Hyperion moved like smoke, dropping low, sidestepping, vanishing from the arc of every deadly swing. When Kaiden's blade came down again, Hyperion shifted to his flank and drove a kick into the creature's neck. The strike rang through metal. Kaiden retaliated instantly, slashing behind him, but Hyperion was already gone. He reappeared at Kaiden's back and drove a fist into the base of his spine. The hit reverberated, denting the armor slightly but doing little more.
Kaiden's body pulsed with light. From every joint and plate, spikes shot outward in all directions. The air filled with streaking iron, embedding into the ground like deadly hail.
Hyperion shielded himself with a magical barrier and sighed. "I do believe I've learned all I can from this fight. Care to tell me where Harlem is? Or better yet, call him here yourself? This phase has been rather draining."
Kaiden swung his massive flail arm at him, but Hyperion darted away.
"Don't get cocky because you've survived this long!" Hyperion sneered.
"There are two reasons for that," Hyperion added. "One, you're the first opponent I've fought who's got some brains, and I'd like to test myself a bit before the real monsters show up. Two, I want something from you. But since you've served your purpose, I'll be taking it by force."
He vanished, reappearing at the back of Kaiden's head. A concentrated beam of light exploded from his palm, vaporizing the armor in a brilliant flash. Smoke and molten iron cascaded to the ground, revealing flesh beneath. Kaiden snarled and tried to reform the armor, but Hyperion's next beam tore through his legs. The giant toppled forward, dragging a trail of glowing slag.
Hyperion didn't stop. Several thin beams of superheated light lanced through the air, slicing the armor into ribbons. Metal clattered to the ground in smoking chunks until the creature inside; just a bleeding man, lay sprawled in the dirt.
Hyperion approached and crouched. Kaiden's breath came in wet gasps.
"You can't run now," Hyperion said. "You'll bleed out soon. Tell me where Harlem is."
Kaiden's eyes glowed faintly beneath the grime. "You've been blessed with immense strength," he rasped. "But don't get full of yourself. We are a legion, far beyond you or anyone's reach. Pursue this path, and your wings will be clipped by beings higher than you can dream."
Hyperion smirked faintly. "Then I suppose I should thank the stars you're not one of them." He wrapped a hand around Kaiden's throat.
The dying man mumbled something, the syllables fragmented and slurred. Hyperion's eyes narrowed as he sensed the sudden swell of magical energy beneath the man's skin.
He leapt back just before Kaiden's body detonated into a storm of jagged spikes. Metal shrapnel hissed across the clearing, embedding in the ground where he'd stood.
Ida's voice rang from behind. "Wow. Those goons certainly have some spunk."
Hyperion turned, expression a bit curious. "Well done," he said. "You've grown more tactical since our early days."
She smirked faintly. "I don't know if that's praise or sarcasm. Anyway… is Kaiden buried under that pile of scrap?"
Hyperion looked at the twisted mound of metal, its heat still warping the air. "No. He is that pile. Suicide. He turned his life force into a final burst of energy. Tried to engulf me in it."
"Lovely," Ida said dryly. "So much for getting information. Mission's a bust?"
"Normally, yes." Hyperion reached into his pocket. A courier. "But I managed to take this from him before he went off."
Ida opened her mouth, but he silenced her with a raised hand. He adjusted the courier, and when he spoke, his voice shifted, perfectly mimicking Kaiden's gruff tone.
"Sir Harlem," he said into the device, "there seem to be issues concerning the payout from the Orians. I need you to come and give us orders."
Ida blinked. "Your mimicry never ceases to amaze me. Think he'll fall for it?"
Hyperion smiled faintly. "Let's hope so. Time will tell."
They sat and waited. The ruined courtyard falling silent except for the sound of dying fires and cooling metal.
After twenty minutes, footsteps approached.
A tall man stepped through the shattered gate, long gray hair bound in a braid, a tailored tuxedo far too fine for the wasteland around him. He stopped abruptly, eyes darting between the wreckage and the two figures waiting for him.
"What in the name of God happened," He froze. Recognition set in.
This was Harlem.
Hyperion's eyes narrowed, studying him. The man's magical presence was strong, but his posture betrayed fear. He turned to run.
Hyperion appeared behind him and seized his braid. "Where do you think you're going, Harlem? I need something from you."
Harlem's voice quivered. "You've already taken everything. This place, this was all I had. Please, I have nothing left."
"Is this a joke?" Hyperion asked, almost disappointed. "Someone like Kaiden worshipped you?"
Harlem swallowed. "Kaiden thought I saved him. My men took over his town's syndicate. We were scouting for fighters, not killing. He mistook mercy for grace. That's all."
Ida folded her arms. "He's not exactly helping his image."
"I'm not a fighter," Harlem blurted. "I'm a tactician. I was sent here because it's far from the Octad Cities. They didn't think anyone capable would find us. I'll tell you everything I know, just… spare me."
Hyperion tilted his head, unimpressed. "A tactical aid, hm? Seems the higher ups have poor vision. Fine. Let's talk. Who assigned you?"
"The Unkind," Harlem said quickly. "There are eight of us, the board that handles operations. But the real power lies with the first five. They're the ones directly under our master."
"So six through eight are just decoration," Hyperion said.
Harlem shook his head. "No. we're formidable too. But the first five… they're monsters. They live within the eight cities, unseen and untouchable."
Hyperion leaned in slightly. "And at least one of their names?"
"His name is...,"
He never finished.
A glowing rune flared across his chest, the pattern alive. The sound of tearing flesh and twisting metal as spikes burst from his body, impaling him from within. He collapsed instantly, blood pooling in dark, metallic ripples.
"Suicide again?" Ida muttered, stepping back.
Hyperion examined the corpse, his expression grave. "No. This wasn't his doing. He was compliant. Someone else triggered the spell, a failsafe."
"A rune spell?" she asked.
He nodded slowly. "Metal rune magic. Someone among the higher ranks did this. Which means we're done with interrogation."
He straightened, brushing dust from his cloak. His tone was quiet, but his eyes gleamed with something fierce.
"From here on," he said, "we investigate."
The wind swept through the ruins, carrying the faint tang of iron and smoke. Hyperion exhaled and smiled faintly, not in joy, but in anticipation.
"Great God this just got interesting."