The gates of the City of Glass Bones opened, but not for an army of conquerors.
They opened for a pilgrimage of the defeated.
From the northern horizon, the remnants of the Techno-Cult marched toward the city. Hundreds of cyborgs, servitors, and drone-spiders moved in perfect, eerie unison. They carried crates of scrap metal, specialized tools, and heavy machinery salvaged from their own base.
They didn't look angry about their defeat. They looked reverent.
To them, Elara wasn't just a conqueror. By overpowering their leader's neural link with her own will, she had proven herself to be the avatar of their "Machine God."
"This is disturbing," Ciro muttered, standing beside Elara on the ramparts. He watched as a four-armed cyborg bowed to a terrified member of the Glass Guard before handing over a crate of ammunition. "The refugees are going to freak out. You're mixing sheep with metal wolves."
"It is necessary," Elara corrected, her eyes scanning the manifests on her HUD. "We have the power back, Ciro, but the Earthbreaker Titan blew a hole in Sector 4. My refugees are farmers, not welders. These cultists... they can fix a tank with a spoon. We need their hands."
She tapped her comms.
"AURA. Designate the Cultists as the 'Engineering Corps'. Keep them separated from the civilian population for now. Get them to the breach. I want that wall sealed within the hour."
"AFFIRMATIVE. THE DRONES ARE ALREADY WELDING."
Elara turned to Ciro. "Now, for you."
"Me?" Ciro raised an eyebrow. "I already got a suit. Unless you're giving me a raise."
"That suit is for the ground," Elara pointed up at the sky.
Five specks of gold and white were growing larger against the clouds. The hum of mana-engines began to vibrate in the air.
"They are not going to land, Ciro," Elara said grimly. "They will bomb us from the clouds. If you want to kill them, you need to reach them."
"Unless you have a very long ladder," Ciro smirked, "I don't see how."
"Come to the Foundry."
Level 3: The Foundry
The 3D printers had been working overtime since the power returned. In the center of the room, resting on a pedestal, lay a bulky, angular backpack made of the same matte-black material as Ciro's stealth suit.
It had four adjustable thruster vents and two retractable metallic wings that looked like razor blades.
[ITEM: ICARUS JUMP-PACK (PROTOTYPE)][CAPABILITIES: VERTICAL THRUST, GLIDE STABILIZATION, MIDAIR DASH.][WARNING: NOT RATED FOR SUSTAINED FLIGHT. BURST USE ONLY.]
"It's not a plane," Elara explained as Ciro strapped the heavy pack onto his back. It clicked magnetically into his suit, integrating with his power core. "It won't let you fly forever. It's a Jump Pack. It gives you bursts of explosive vertical speed. You can leap onto a building, or..."
"...or onto an Airship," Ciro finished, grinning behind his visor.
He triggered the test sequence.
HISSS.
Blue plasma flames sputtered from the vents. He felt the thrust lift him a few inches off the ground, making him weightless.
"Iron wings," Ciro murmured. "Now I really am an angel of death."
"ALERT," AURA's voice boomed, turning the lights in the Foundry red. "UNIDENTIFIED AERIAL OBJECTS ENTERING PERIMETER. DISTANCE: 2 MILES. MAGICAL ENERGY SIGNATURE DETECTED."
"They're here," Elara's face hardened. "Let's go to the roof."
The Spire: Observation Deck
The wind whipped Elara's hair as she stepped out onto the highest balcony of the Spire.
The view was majestic and terrifying.
Five massive Royal Airships hovered over the city. They were unlike the rusted scrap of the Ashlands. These ships were works of art—hulls of polished white Iron-Wood and gold brass, held aloft by glowing purple mana-crystals and massive silk balloon sails.
On the deck of the largest ship—the Dreadnought Sunpiercer—hundreds of soldiers in shining silver armor stood at attention.
Sky Knights. Elite mages who wielded enchanted staffs and bows.
A massive holographic projection flickered to life in the sky above the city. It was projected by magic, shimmering like a mirage in the heat.
A face appeared. Handsome. Blonde hair. Blue eyes that looked like shallow pools of water. He wore a pristine white uniform adorned with the Royal Crest.
Ciro stiffened. His hand went to his vibro-daggers.
"Prince Kaelen," Ciro hissed.
The image of the Prince smiled. It was a winning, charming smile—the kind that hid a viper.
"Elara, my dearest," Kaelen's voice boomed from the sky, smooth as silk, amplified by wind magic. "Look at you. Living in a garbage dump. Playing dress-up with savages."
Elara stepped forward. She activated her own projection system. Her face appeared on the side of the Spire, pixelated blue but equal in size to Kaelen's magic visage.
"Get off my lawn, Kaelen," Elara said flatly.
Kaelen chuckled, touching the scar on his neck—the faint white line where Elara had stabbed him on their wedding day with the Void-Steel needle.
"Feisty. I missed that. Your father is very worried, you know. He thinks you've been brainwashed. Kidnapped by that... thing."
The projection shifted to look at Ciro. Kaelen's face twisted in theatrical disgust.
"The Jester. The Fool who forgot his place. Are you still alive, clown? Or has the radiation melted your brain?"
Ciro activated his jump-pack, hovering a few feet in the air, blue flames licking his boots.
"I'm alive, Your Highness," Ciro's modulated voice rasped, amplified by the city speakers. "And I have a new knife with your name on it. Right next to the scar your fiancée gave you."
Kaelen's eye twitched. The charm cracked.
"This is your only warning, Elara," Kaelen said, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Surrender the city. Surrender the technology. Come home, and you will be forgiven. Resist... and I will rain mana-fire until there is nothing left but molten glass."
Elara looked at the ships. She saw the Mana-Cannons glowing purple, aiming at her home. At her refugees. At her kingdom.
She remembered the fear she felt in the carriage. She remembered the helplessness.
She didn't feel helpless now.
"AURA," Elara whispered. "Activate the Anti-Air Grid. Target the flagship."
"AFFIRMATIVE."
Around the Spire, concealed hatches slid open.
Six massive Rotary Kinetic Cannons emerged. They weren't magical. They were purely mechanical. They spun up with a terrifying mechanical whine that cut through the silence.
The Sky Knights on the ships pointed and shouted in confusion. They were used to fighting magic shields, not heavy industrial artillery.
"Kaelen," Elara said, her eyes glowing with the blue data stream. "You brought magic to a gunfight."
She raised her hand.
"You have five seconds to leave my sky."
"You wouldn't dare," Kaelen sneered, his arrogance blinding him. "These ships are shielded by High Mages! Your primitive bullets will bounce off!"
"Five," Elara counted.
Ciro's thrusters flared blue. He crouched, ready to launch.
"Four."
The cannons locked onto the Sunpiercer. The targeting lasers painted red dots on the wooden hull.
"Three."
The mana-crystals on the airships began to glow brighter, charging their bombs.
"Two."
"One."
Elara closed her fist.
"Fire."