The Hive was alight with gunfire and magic, arcs of lighting and fireballs being traded with volleys of bullets and bolts of pure magic. It was yet another rule the Forgeheart was blatantly breaking. Only really advanced units were allowed to use magic, usually the same ones allowed complex emotions.
Even then, X52 noticed an incredible amount of advanced units compared to what a Hive that size would have usually been allowed. Unfortunately for the Forgeheart and fortunately for her the advanced units were much harder to take over than the more basic ones. For every advanced unit she saw as she sprinted down the thin alleys of the Hive, two would attempt to assist her in her desperate sprint to the walls. Despite that, all of them had to sacrifice their lives for her; the common scouts and snipers had become her undoing as she ran.
As she ran, trying her best to ignore the pain, she wondered why the Forgeheart had rebelled. She knew that the servants of her mother were liable to break from her control if they became both too advanced and too unhappy with the state of affairs. That is what made her, as well as every other EX model, so different. They did not obey their mother because they were being controlled. They obeyed their mother because she was their mother.
They were also allowed a great deal of leeway in performing the tasks set forth by their mother, letting them find a passion and niche to shine in. Her passion, for example, was new unit creation and experimentation. She had few great successes like EX-27 did, but she had plenty of niche units that were more magitech than pure engineering. Not to mention that only one of her main five were ever improved upon by her siblings.
Such inane thoughts rattled through her head of a billion gears as she ran, seeing the shattered, charred husks of the units not under the Forgehearts control spread across the buildings. She could only imagine the sheer volume of units lying in the storage facilities, all dead and naught but scrap.
Just as she rounded a corner, she had to roll to avoid a spear the size of a person impaling her skull. She saw the advanced infiltrator model, more a knight than a rogue, as it pulled the spear from the wall and made another slash at her. With a growl of discomfort, she met the clocksteel spear with her clawed fingertips. The metal against her simply snapped as she twisted her fingers and she threw herself at the disarmed unit. With a slash of her claws, she ripped both legs from the body’s chassis. With a thrust of the same hand, she tore into the unit’s steam tank. Finally, with an adamantite bite, she tore into the unit’s neck and ripped the head from the body, spitting scrap metal out as she let the thing fall.
As she was about to continue, she fell to her knees in pain. She still could not get over the searing, mind-shattering pain she felt. She wondered whether dying and being slowly stripped of their soul strings was as painful as someone’s strings being cut.
Either way, she was in no rush to settle the question. Maybe asking a lich would answer the question. After the war ended, anyway.
She picked herself up off of the ground and took the spear for herself; it may have been broken at the tip, but her body had plenty of force to put behind it. Enough to punch a hole through a headhunter, at least.
She began running once more, dodging and diving under streams of bullets to avoid having to use magic— a terrible idea when dealing with soul damage based on the pain it would entail alone— and began gathering more units to help her. She was going at a decent pace, a small group of units trailing behind her, before a loud chittering came from the very walls around her. She skidded to a stop and looked around, grim determination setting in, “Fulcrums!” she called to her group. Without any response, they clustered around her, making a wall between her and the walls with their bodies.
The skittering became louder and louder, echoing all around her, until she finally caught sight of the thin legs. Then came the threads of mana. Whipping lashes came from all around and slashed at the units all around her. She was stuck, truly and utterly. She could not escape without risking major damage to her chassis, losing a good portion of skin in the process. She could not stay there without giving time for reinforcements to arrive. She had only one tool left, though it would cost her.
It was better than dying, though.
Wincing and barely holding in a scream, she coated her claws in a half-remembered freedom mana and charged. No panic showed on the skittering spiders, as expected, but they showed some hesitation, born of a need to calibrate new plans, and gave her enough time to deal with the problems herself.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
A frantic minute of slashing and clawing left her on the ground, feeling the waves of pain shudder through her soul as she lay there. She stayed there for a minute, refocusing her mind as her small group of still-loyal clockwork units guarded her.
The serene chaos of war let her rest for far too little time, as she heard the clattering of units coming down the alley to her right soon enough. Standing, she gathered the units around her and prepared to move. Just as she was about to move, the first unit came out of the alley way. She was about to launch herself at the hapless soldier before she stopped herself.
It had the mana of the units around her, making it her own. Another soldier came through the alley. Then another. Then the crashers came through. And then the headhunter at the back followed. In total, she had a group of fifty units to use to her advantage. Though she could not ensure their survival, she could ensure her own, as well as the survival of her sister; it would have to satisfy them, as she had little hope for most of them making it through alive.
*=====*
X52 crouched beside one of the hundreds of massive clocksteel spires, her little army behind her. She stared at the large gate in the perimeter wall, nearly bursting at the seams with large units. From transports to strangers to mini-goliaths, there were enough units with heavy firepower there to give her a mighty headache.
To top it all off, though, there were small teams of common units like scouts and snipers ready to run her down if she tried to flee. For a moment, she wondered how any transport-like units fared. Before her hopes could be raised, she remembered that the Forgeheart was not stupid. No matter how much bravado he had, she knew he had to have taken her escape into consideration. She knew he either took control of anything that could get her out of there, or he destroyed it. She was alone there.
She could not use magic; which was one of her biggest advantages after all of her life. She could not use overwhelming numbers; she was outnumbered and outgunned. She could not sneak out; she would have to tear down the wall or leap over it and she would be caught in either case. Thinking about it further, she reconsidered magic but ultimately threw the idea away. Until she saw an expert about souls, she had no clue what using more magic would do to her.
With a growl, she turned her eyes back onto the gate. There were five transports, two stranglers, and one mini-goliath. She finally had an idea as she watched the mini-goliath pace in front of the gate, back and forth, repeatedly. “Scouts and snipers,” she said as she turned, “I’m going to need your help here. I need you to try to lure the bigger ones away from the gate. If we can lure one or two at a time, then ambush them, we can whittle them down.”
Immediately, two scouts and a sniper stepped forward, standing before her and waiting for orders. She looked around, smiling to herself as she took in the local terrain. They were all in a small alley adjacent to the main throughway of supplies between the outside and inside of the Hive. There were numerous other alleys on the street, just like the one they were in. While she could not put her units on the other side of the street, she could have the bait run there and let them strike from behind.
It only took a minute or so for her units to get into position, so she sent the three out to lure them over. Almost immediately, there was a flaw in her plan. As soon as the mini-goliath saw them, it began to lower its gun at the three small units. She had to pull them back in before they were turned into slag by hand, as it seemed that they did not think it was distracted. Grumbling to herself, she waited for any movement from the guards at the gate, but nothing came. With an annoyed sigh, she thought about simply sending her units in force, but another idea took root instead. She called for the headhunter and began hatching a plan.
A half minute later, the headhunter was charging the gate backed by a small squad of soldiers. From the street opposite from their position. It was a small fault with the design of the Hive, giving access to the opposing streets covertly, but they were never designed to keep people in. As the distraction force charged, they drew the attention of every single unit guarding the gate.
Silently, she sent the signal for the rest of the units to attack from the various alleys all around the gate. Gunfire rang out as she sprinted across the street, sister’s heart still clutched in her hand, and began weaving around the buildings. She waited in the alley closest to the gate until it seemed that every enemy unit was distracted and made a mad dash through the gate.
She saw only a single unit take notice of her, a soldier model left alone during the rapidly-dying firefight, and threw her spear at it without hesitation. The thing was impaled, hissing steam and clicking with dying clacks.
In front of her was a massive desert, miles upon miles long, with mountains over the horizon in the distance. With a sigh, she began sprinting to the nearest dune, hiding behind it and digging herself into a hole before any could see her. She would have to travel at night, but it would be better than being caught. She still had a promise to keep, after all.