Groaning the pain away and blinking some focus back into my vision, I remain still. What was that...? What even was that? It came out of nowhere with such terrible, awesome power. It can even damage Atarifuge!

What has interfered with my quest thus far is nowhere near comparable in scale. Ancient machinery I had almost forgotten existed is still blaring at me in warning. That which I've just barely survived is divine. Holy power from beyond the heavens themselves.

Slowly eking out the strength I need, I begin the process of returning Atarifuge to its feet. The machine scrapes up against something and I have us back away. A frown settles in my face at the clear image presented to me, even with my aelenvari eyes. Kneeled into the earth, a great being with a spiked head. Compared to Atarifuge's, its sword is of a shorter, but thicker, stature.

I can feel it. Atarifuge is so familiar to me that I know what this is. It's another machine of the gods. Divine in the Orbital-Halo, I cannot recall the name. I just know. All who stand here will know about the giant.

Flicking through the parts of Atarifuge's controls, I get to sorting out my health situation. By slowly letting in the world around me, I can dull the pain. That which permeates the finest craftsmanship is all that keeps me from death. I am lucky I am able to brace myself at times like these.

I have a goal to accomplish, a rising evil to slay, but so many wonders are challenging me. Atarifuge is a great power with many rivals, yet I feel triumphant over most. I do not know if that strange light, that holy light, if it comes back for me... I will die.

Turning Atarifuge's gaze around so I can survey the land, I spot a trail. It almost makes me glow with joy. There is a path to follow that man! And, I can see it, the buildup in the distance. His home is near. Where he's run off to, it's so close. Just a little more. Come on, Atarifuge, just a little more!

Setting my brow in stone, I shrug the great machine's shoulders and arm myself well. I may want to see the world when all is said and done, but, in the event I cannot... I must be prepared as I was all the other times I set out to slay beasts and evil. A humble warrior accepts death as a possibility, a skilled fighter can keep it at bay and a wise one knows how to achieve his goal as Undwote takes hold.

There is a possibility I should consider with what I have so youthfully fought. The power it was blessed with, it shared the same blood as the rejected woman. Perhaps it was her? She is clinging onto a future she has no idea about...

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"Do not resist, this is a needed action. I know what occurs when power and resentment mix." I glow for no reason other than to reassure myself of why I am doing this. Now, of all times, my heart must be set and focused on a fine, bladed edge. He's so close. All I have to do is end his life and the world will be saved. I can leave Atarifuge behind and see to it my life ends as well.

I must hurry. It will only take that great power to come for me to put an end to my quest. Yet, I must also show immense caution on this final stretch of the journey. New threats keep arriving to try and challenge me for no reason other than to challenge. The scale of Atarifuge invites those with wounded egos, those with something to prove. Looking meek has its benefits.

The scale of a simple, mortal man is not much to look at... My mouth moves up.

I am excited to see what the world offers when I am back on my points. When a step from me does not quake the world and my sword can fit through a common door. I have, by accidental collision, discovered a work of the gods I didn't even know existed. The reasons I am even here are what could even be a descendent of the heroes around the time of Thunder.

The world changing is the natural course of life for all things, even the gods change. Waionr was once a barbaric, bloodthirsty entity, but through the application of the mind by his family. He became what he is now, Waionr, God of War. To fight is to serve the arts of steel and fire.

Nevermind even the grandeur of the world, the simple things I yearn to return to. A basic tourney with a modest treasure prize. Duels for no reason other than honour and the enforcement of goodness. Beasts to slay and the handling of their pelts afterwards!

I'm excited, eager and juvenile at the very thought of it all. I just need to cross this final distance and slay the evil-to-be. He's up there, moving all over what must be a grand mountain. Yet, there is another problem.

This may be the great city belonging to the king whose armies have been attacking me. More of those flying beasts are here, so many of them seem to be resting. How am I supposed to draw out the one I want on my own, even with Atarifuge? I guess the best I can do is enact a limited amount of horror and work to undo it when I am free.

Maybe the man will exit the city himself and leave me with the chance to end it. I wish I could meaningfully pray for his courage to face me. Yet, with the will of mortals making us what we are, I doubt the gods can help. If I ever knew human tongues, I have forgotten them by now.

Atarifuge cannot speak, it can only roar its mighty horn and lurch to my commands. My head shakes and I move the controls ahead. The recoil comes up to me with improved sustenance. Atarifuge is speeding up. I will just have to make this quick. A short-lived affair that I can run away from and then dispose of my home for so long.

Much as I have come to realise the destruction I caused to my people so long ago, I will miss Atarifuge. This chair, this machine of godly make, it's been a constant in my life for the longest time. An unfeeling comfort that thinks nothing of me. A contrast to the unending dreams I have of my betrayal all those nights ago.