The explosion rocked the Aeramo, sending a shockwave through its armored hull. Terna barely had time to register the impact before the command interface flickered with warning signs. The world outside was chaos—a blast of heat, billowing mulch and burnt plantlife, all mixed with a rising plume of smoke that darkened the previously beautiful sky.
“Damage report!” she barked, gripping the armrests of her seat.
“Structural integrity at ninety-two percent. Superficial damage to the outer hull. No internal breaches detected,” Aeramo responded with mechanical calm. “Threat assessment ongoing.”
Aaron’s voice cut through the alarms. “Terna, look!”
Though she was connected to the Aeramo, she was able to see him through the vehicle’s internal sensors. He was peering wide-eyed at one of the screens, its previous Dizzy+ shows and ads replaced with a view of the outside. She accessed the feed, tracking across the digital display to the ridge where the projectile that had caused the explosion had originated. This hadn't been some sort of trap, but rather a calculated attack.
The air shimmered at the estimated point of origin, faint ghostly outlines moving through the air. It wasn’t just a trick of light—something was hiding there, and it was watching them.
“Aeramo, target that shimmer and fire main gun!”
“Target not detected, Chieftess. Aim and fire capacity not available.”
She growled, mentally wresting the targeting controls from the AI. But too late. The ghost attacker fired again, a great gout of flame and smoke pounding out from seemingly the air itself. A loud thunk sounded from the plates, and the NoMorts moaned in fear as a new wave of heat washed over them.
Whatever the projectile was, it struck with immense force, sending a ripple through the Aeramo's frame. But worse than the impact was the searing wave of heat that followed, as though the air itself had been set aflame, threatening to roast everyone inside.
“Aeramo, evasive maneuvers!” Terna cried, sweat already forming on her cheeks and neck. The vehicle reacted instantly, swiveling 90 degrees and kicking into full throttle. The sensors screamed warnings of rising external temperatures, and she could feel a slight tickle as system air conditioning blasted cold air to counter the heat.
It was enough for now. But it wouldn't be for long.
Letting Aeramo continue to pilot, Terna merged herself deeper into the weapons system, feeling its data lines pulse through her. She was the gun, the gun was her. She rotated her body, her turret, locking focus on the shimmer even as her stabilizers whined and groaned with the attempts to keep on target.
She felt within her the mechanical thunk of a ballistic round dropping into her chamber and corkscrewing out of her extended 130 mm barrel, its aim true. The strike hit, and a concave bubble of patched and crackling blue light appeared where she'd struck it.Then, something gave way. The air shimmered again, violently this time, as though an unseen layer was being peeled back. Sparks crackled in the empty space, and in an instant, the cloaking technology failed.
A massive, towering battle machine emerged, its armored shell a gleaming mix of polished chrome and scorched plating. Twin cannons protruded from its shoulders, glowing with residual heat. Its legs were like columns of sharpened steel, ending in talons meant for crushing. Its torso swiveled, and in the center of its head, a singular, malevolent crimson-red eye snapped open, casting its unnatural light over them.
“Hostile battle mech detected,” Aeramo announced.
Terna's stomach clenched. It was worse than she had imagined.
“I see it, Aeramo,” she said, her voice steady despite the firestorm of emotions inside her.
The red light thickened, the outer shell of Aeramo heating quickly under its influence. The scorching beam swept across their hull, and she could feel its heat prickle across her skin, an itchy burn crawling along her arms and face.
“Evasive! More evasive!” she cried, not knowing what else to do. She moved the gun turret wildly, missing one shot and then another. Every miss meant more risk. Every second lost brought them closer to annihilation.
“Terna!” Aaron cried. A smoking plate buckled and fell from the outer hull, and a cascade of alerts flooded her vision:
ALERT: Outer Hull Integrity Compromised
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
ALERT: Structural integrity at seventy-two percent
ALERT: Cockpit and engine temperatures exceed optimal parameters
ALERT: Cooling capacity exceeded by 67%
ALERT: Enemy Target Lock Detected
A missile shot up into the sky on a line of flame and smoke, launching from the back of the mech. Terna clenched her jaw as the tank popped out a series of anti-missile ECM and confusion devices. She closed her eyes for a moment, a single thought pressing in on her mind. I am not a Chieftess. I have led us to doom.
“Armor activate! Please, Mr. Tank! Armor, now!” Aaron’s voice, high-pitched and trembling, cracked through the comms. His terror was raw and undeniable.
No!
Terna opened her eyes. “The rocket, it is tracking, yes?”
“Yes, Chieftess. The missile is locked onto our vehicle. It is being delayed by countermeasures, but has smartboard AI and will redirect to us in an estimated ten seconds.”
“Aeramo, we charge.”
Terna wrested driving control from Aeramo, banking hard to the right and facing the battle mech dead-on. Pushing the engine as hard as she could, she rushed across the torn mud and dirt of the fields, armor bubbling, her skin feeling as if it were on fire.
“Chieftess Terna, new options are available. With a crew aboard, the Aeramo's specialty options have unlocked. The command menu now displays officer assignment slots, complete with their associated capabilities and potential enhancements.”
“Yes, assign positions. I need all the help I can get here. And Aeramo, do not call me Chieftess. I was wrong, stupid, and arrogant. I am no leader. That is something that must be earned.”
Sensors screamed in her mind, the missile having shaken its countermeasures and now on an intercept course. She charged ahead, feeling a sense of community as new minds joined her in the Aeramo's meld. The main gun came alive, blasting another round into the shield, and she saw the energy crackle again. Another weapon began firing, a coaxial cannon she hadn’t even known existed. It fired pulses of light, and the robot mech's shield darkened.
Focus, Terna. Do this right.
She was almost to the mech. The missile was almost to her. Firing up the rear sensors, she watched the missile, timed it—and then juked sideways. It attempted to correct, but its sheer velocity slammed it into the mech's shield, which sparked away with a blast of white and purple lightning.
“Yes!” Vekka screamed, the others whooping from their various places within the cockpit. Terna switched her view briefly, watching the gunner land multiple energy bolts into the robot. Smoke rose from a dozen punctures. The eye had gone dark, the heat attack had ceased. It was mostly show, she realized—lots of bark, no true fangs.
And it would have killed them all because of her arrogance.
“If someone is recon, scan for a kill spot. I want this robot dead.”
“I have it,” Tirra called, and images appeared before her.
“Gunner?” Terna asked.
“I see it. Targeting the knees,” Vekka announced.
The tank surged away, widening the distance. The bot took a stumbling step forward, and Terna saw its cheap fastening and joints. So much power yet such cheap production. So little care put into making it. She found it confusing.
The mech fired, and Terna veered, evading the shot. Another round fired, another one dodged. Vekka returned fire, AI-directed rounds launching out to blast one knee, and then the other. Sparks flew as its stabilizers buckled, its legs suddenly bending sideways, its torso shifting wildly, shots firing into the sky.
“I assign Aaron as pilot,” Terna commanded. “Aaron, I trust you. Circle around! Keep moving!”
The enemy bot stumbled to its knees, stabilizing itself, but the Aeramo danced around it, its main gun belting it with hard-shelled artillery as its coaxial peppered it with rounds.
The Aeramo danced around the battle mech, its main gun belting it with hard-shelled artillery as its coaxial peppered it with rounds. The battle bot stumbled, its movements sluggish and uncoordinated, then, at last, it collapsed.
Silence fell.
Terna exhaled loudly. “Yeah. Good job, everyone. We did it.”
“Aaron, stop the vehicle,” Terna called, viewing the area through her command post. The NoMorts were hiding behind their wall, and no other enemies were around. Not visible ones, anyways. “Aeramo, disconnect the crew and go on auto-alert.”
Terna emerged into physical space, and saw Aaron sitting next to her. He was breathing hard, his small hands clenched into fists. Vekka was next to him, panting, sweat beading on her brow. Tirra was on her left, a lost expression hanging over her face.
But where was Miren?
A small voice called from the sofa. “Is . . . is it over?” she asked.
Terna exhaled loudly. “Yeah. Good job everyone. We did it.”
The robot exploded, every piece of its blasting in all directions.
“Hostile neutralized,” Aeramo confirmed. “Combat systems disengaging.”
Before Terna could even breathe, Aeramo’s sensors flared a new alert—something was still active. A faint, pulsing heat signature from the mech’s wreckage.
“Terna, unknown energy source detected within the remains of the enemy unit. No further hostilities detected, but the signal is irregular. Possible data storage or emergency transmission in progress.”
“Ignore it for now. We have more immediate concerns.”
On one of Aeramo's viewscreens, NoMorts cautiously emerged from behind their makeshift barricades, eyeing their damaged vehicle with wide and terrified eyes. Some whispered prayers, others took hesitant steps forward, their faces rigid and their bodies tensed to run. Terna noticed how their eyes darted between her and the smoldering wreck.
“I do not understand this. Are they enemies?” she asked. Aaron pointed down the screen, and she saw an older hobb, one with deep-lined skin and drooping, sagging cheeks, cupping his hands around his mouth.
“Aeramo, amplify. I want to hear what he is saying,” Terna said.
The voice crackled through a second later, and it was clear he'd been yelling it over and over. “Are you of BuyMort?”
Terna's brow furrowed. “I do not like this . . . strangeness.”
Vekka frowned. “We learn nothing if we sit here. You are of the BuyMort, Terna. Answer him.”
“I have a better idea. Aeramo, let them know I am coming out to talk to them. Everyone else stay here and protect me. I am not threatening. I will do this alone.”