Michael stood outside of the enormous building, as far away as possible, as tiny cracks began to spread in an endless sea. From the minuscule cracks came some even large, and from them, others more massive than those before them. Next to Michael, his entourage watched in stunned silence. What had seemed like an indestructible structure made to stand for time-immemorial, was now falling to pieces.

Then again, most were probably focused on the two beings making their way out of the shell that had covered them. Finally witnessing the cloudless sky above, something that they had been deprived of, lest they hurt those they swore to lead and protect. Agnitum and Peitineous roared to the heavens as the building around them crashed onto the floor throwing massive waves of dust barreling in full circles around it.

Michael and everyone watching had to look away as the dust storm passed them. Even the Cyclopes of the city had to cover their single eye, to protect them from dust. But in the center of it all, the dust chose to rise upwards creating a massive mushroom of fog that had it raining down on everyone present.

“The Great Ones are free,” all the Cyclopes said together in a mashed voice. Some speaking in rhythm with others while a few were entirely off. Somehow, their words, though spoken together, had wonder and great emotion in them.

“For too long have we been forced to sit idly as you all suffered,” The Great Ones said, their words echoing from behind the blanket of dirt and sand. “But, now we are free. We are free! And in our freedom, vengeance shall be abundant and struggle scarce,”

None of the Cyclopes moved from their kneeling positions. None dared to break the solemnity of the moment. But, they weren’t in that position before The Great Ones, no it had been in that position that Michael found every single Cyclops, no matter their age or status. Walking out of the building he had been surprised with a transparent screen that came to life before him.

System ~

Rights of Kings ~ A New King Has Been Born

The unchallenged Titans of Gargantuan, Agnitum The Enraged and Petienous The Wise, leaders of the Cyclopes city have sworn undying allegiance to Ruthar Michael Ges Lunar Kindreal. Let the world know, that age has little to do with kingship. Let the world know, that personal power has little to do with kingship. No, it is through generosity and giving does one gain immeasurable power. It is only through those virtues does one receive the devote loyalty of Titans and masters of craftsmanship.

A new king has been born. His granted name is Ruthar Michael, The Beneficent, The Man Who Holds A Dragon’s Treasure, The Last of Balanced Scales.

Kneel before your King!

Stunned at the message before him, it took Michael a while to look past the screen before him. Walking towards the gathered mass, he felt like he was lost, in a lucid dream. Before him were thousands of Cyclopes of every station in life. Blacksmiths in partially burned aprons, warrior fully covered in armor, hunters with large bows that could have been ballista, even the female Cyclopes that came out dancing before the priestess had come out.

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In front of the mass were seven of the giants in distinct clothing. Clear leaders of the others. The first was one with white hair and an old face, wearing golden armor, he carried a massive blade sheathed on is back. The Helm he wore looked to be of a frightening feline creature that felt oddly familiar. To his right was Gergat, wearing pristine armor of silver. To his left stood Bergat in mid-night black leathers and with two, of what a Cyclops would deem, short swords hanging from his hip. To Bergat’s left was a Cyclopess that wore the same leather, though her short swords had clear and identifiable designs of ravens and crows.

Next to her was a short Cyclops, shorter than any Michael had seen. But, unlike the others, magic surrounded him like flies around a lantern. He carried every possible element one could conceive. To Gergat’s right were both the Priestess and Tiala in all their glory. None, no matter how strong they looked dared to look up as Michael continued to shuffle towards them. He had not expected this to happen, no one did.

Taking a hint from Bialo, who with his entire entourage of guards stood to the side, Michael stayed quiet and simply turned around with faux confidence as the first crack came into existence with a massive boom causing great murmurs from the crowd behind him.

Now, the fog of dust began to settle as the two hulking behemoths made their way towards them, every step they took shook the ground. Gulping, to Michael they seemed even larger out in the opening with something to compare to them. Yet, somehow, they still fit under the barrier of magic that covered the entire city from prying eyes. Closer they got until, as was expected, they stopped before him.

This time, it was not only Michael that noticed their gathering of mana. Bialo’s eyes widened as he saw the maelstrom that converged at two points before the two. Michael didn’t understand what they were doing until their size visibly shortened. Getting smaller and smaller until they became the size of two Cyclopes, while still enormous, they were not as monstrous as what they were before. But in reaction to their size, the density of their power grew multiple folds to be held in the tiny body they carried.

The number of arms and heads they carried also significantly shrunk. It became one head on top of shoulders with two hands. Four heads and fifteen arms floated around their central bodies in a circle. Unlike their followers of Cyclopes, they had two piercing eyes of pure black. Michael found them to be endless in depth, fearing he would lose himself in their shadows, he forced himself to never look again.

Both Hecatonchires slowly looked around them, broad smiles and eye filtering between the new scenes they were seeing. Sighing, a tension, none had noticed, was visibly taken off their shoulders. Looking back towards Michael, they lowered their heads in deference.

“Mortal King, bound by the very words we spoke, we are to battle for you and you only. So we must ask, with your permission, can we hunt The Thief for the suffering he has caused,” Agnitum said.

“Nay, we must tend to our Kings flock. Matters in our own home are far more important than finding The Thief,” Petienous replied.

“Petienous , we had waited far too long to allow him to esca-” Agnitum said but was cut off by Michael.

“Guys, we don’t need this now. Let us deal with matters here,” Michael said pointing to himself and the others around him, hoping he had gotten the leaders right. “... While you guys can go out and find Senzard. Though if you find him, try not to kill him, maybe we can recruit him somehow,”

Michael inside was shaking with anxiety. He didn’t understand how oaths worked so he couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t just ignore him. But, he had to prevent them from bickering with each other. His time within the Building showed him how much they wasted time just arguing with each other on what they should do, seldom coming to a decision. Both began nodding like he had come up with something incredible.

“With your permission, we shall find our way to The Thief,” Agnitum said.

As they walked away, he felt eyes burning into the back of his skull. Turning around he found Agata staring at him with narrowed eyes and pressed lips. Scratching his head, he waited for her to speak first.

“What happened in there?” Agata asked, her voice lined with confusion. “How did you walk into a dark building for a few hours only to come out as a King of Cyclopes?”

Smiling smugly, Michael wiggled his eyebrows at her. That, of course, made her even more irritated than before.

“That’s because I am utterly amazing. They saw me ooze greatness and kingship, they just had to make me their leader,”

Instead of seeing an even more irritated expression as he expected, Agata instead smiled and even giggled a bit. But before he could ask why she did that, he noticed her look down towards his feet.

“Oh, please forgive me, your highness. Your aura is just too strong, it even has your knees shaking like thin branches in a storm,”

With the last laugh, she quickly escaped before Michael could say anything else. All he could do was look down at his quivering legs and click his tongue.