Camilla watched the chaos unfold from atop a steep heavily fortified central tower of the castle. Her expression was bitter with frustration as she watched her city crumble with each explosive turn from the chaotic pests. It only grew dimmer as she watched the inevitable appearance of Third’s reinforcements.

She thought she would feel different after this one perhaps, but she only felt a chill as the vision came true.

Then, chill grew into knot, and knot into sickness. Visions and nausea filled her simultaneously, but her eyes never drifted from the hellscape unfurling beneath her.

Explosions of both varieties filled the air, the darts left an almost imperceptible shockwave, but A&R’s rapidly developed kamikaze drone couldn’t say the same.

Huge blinding white explosions filled the air, only rarely taking with them any fraction of the impossibly quick darts.

Each time a drone self-destructed another took its place roughly attempting to chase after the meandering darts.

Several minutes in and only a single dart had been dismantled leaving five more to deal with in the chaotic sky over the Gaurdian capital.

All it had required was seven failed attempts. And the dart hadn’t even been avoiding them.

Camilla knew Third likely wouldn’t be impressed with the initial result had he been watching, but to everyone else who saw, including the various independent fleet commanders, it was a terrifyingly powerful show of strength.

There were plenty who’d seen small glimpses of the capabilities of the group summoned by Gaurdia’s sacrifice, but nothing at this scale.

Hadn’t she known better; Camilla would be shivering at the sight of the chaotic onslaught. Even still, she swallowed hard as another distant blast rapidly disassembled a veering dart.

“The shapes blur between which is which the longer I watch.” A heavily adorned gentleman with a thick greased mustache and oily black hair combed behind his ear muttered from beside another embrasure.

It was hard for any who overheard him to tell whether the statement was a joke or not. But in truth, none could truly argue it.

The naval representatives had heard rumors of Irias’ guardian angel. But this was far more eye-opening than boats run on lamp-oil.

Another blast caught on target as the basic targeting system learned with each failure. One in seven, quickly turned to one in three on target blasts.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Once only a single dart remained, it acted as had been observed by others in ‘swarm behavior’ and quickly steered away from the attack point and rocketed in a direction at random.

As if expecting it, the moment it decided to run was the moment A&R stepped up further.

A horrific sound— to some— peeled through the still air like a scream of a banshee.

An A-10 had finally been scrambled to clean up the stragglers, dubbed the warthog for good reason, its appetite was alarming.

In a single second on the trigger, the pilot at the stick unloaded sixty rounds of depleted uranium shells each weighing in at nearly a pound. It turned the hardened stone dart into ribbons of carbon and dust.

The round was designed for tank busting, so it was clearly the ideal weapon for the job, but the tool also came with that unexpected consequence of sheer terror as the sound of hundreds of projectiles poured through the air in a single heartbeat.

The psychological effect of the weapon was powerful in its own regard. Just the sound of one could often send insurgents scurrying for cover in the field back on earth.

And the most terrifying part about it is that if you’ve heard it, whatever was there is already gone. The rounds reached their target far before the sound could reach you.

So, for the Queen and various advisors, counselors, and the half dozen naval commanders, they simply watched the dart veer away, power into the distance, and then unexpectedly vanish into debris.

By the time the sound reached them, their faces were already dim.

“I hadn’t expected it to look so easy.” One of the Kings former advisors quietly stated with a conflicted expression.

As his words processed, the machine that’d been responsible for the darts disappearance turned its trajectory towards the city and took a careful pass around the outside vicinity of the city.

The pilot was merely making sure there weren’t any remaining targets with a final visual inspection, but to many in the city— who were already filled with terror and panic as houses burned and crumbled around them— they could only watch the looming jet with intensified fear and distrust.

‘What was to stop the machine from turning that weapon on any of them,’ many wondered as they blankly watched the jet turn away once its pass was completed.

On the other hand, the atmosphere in the tower remained relatively calm despite the ominous appearing action. They kept a more level head and rationalized it as it was, simply protocol to ensure safety.

“Was that not what father asked for?” Camilla answered her father’s friend simply with a helpless shrug. “Someone capable of bringing peace. Would the powerless ever be the one capable of such a thing?”

None answered so Camilla continued with her conclusion ignoring the dissatisfied expressions coming from her father’s former war councilor and aide.

“Of course, we should be prepared for what comes with their peace. If it’s equal to our meaning, then good. But many say peace and quiet in sequence, and that’s rather easy too.”

A few voices of murmured comprehension rang out as Camilla turned back to the window and watched figures scurrying to rescue and take account of the damages from the attack.

In a smooth transition her eyes clouded, and her face stiffened unconsciously as more ideas aligned into inevitabilities once her role in this step of the path was accomplished.

Three sides again fought once again as her stomach knotted further, simply from knowing.