“Stall her!” Iron Lord roared, pointing his weapon at Alpha. “A khanate worth ten thousand souls to the one who brings me her head! Phaser, open the portal! Prepare…”
Alpha advanced. Two thunder bulls flanked her; their riders raised their glaives. Plasma doused them both, converting their armors into steel waterfalls that crowned their steeds, drawing long cries from the tormented animals. Another raider charged the warlord with a spear. The claws caught him.
Till Ingo once claimed that Alpha’s murder tools could shave electrons from an atom. So prized they were that numerous government researchers attempted to replicate them, going so far as to clone parts of Alpha’s body, but each attempt was in vain. If not immediately transplanted into her body, the grown part would shrivel and break down. Like Ravager, Alpha’s body refused to share its secrets.
And the raider experienced the touch of those claws. He wasn’t so much sliced as shredded; the vicious talons passed through him unhindered by his suit or his flesh. A leg stepped on the steed’s head that tried to ram the warlord. The limb pushed, splashing the skull against the ruined street.
Clouds of mist hid her, and Alpha inhaled deadly fumes, never slowing her pace. Bullets bounced off her plates, not even notching them. The swing of her arm slaughtered another ironclad. She glanced at Zulfiya, and the woman yelped and ran to her father. Brood Lord picked an oversized gun from his belt and fired it at Alpha, gulping nervously as each of the projectiles was parried.
That was a demonstration enough. No soldier dared stand up to the warlord.
Janine pushed the rest of her pack into the APC and jumped in, checking to make sure the wounded and civilians were secured in their harnesses before almost tearing Marco from Anissa’s embrace. Dropping to her knees, she cursed her own lack of medical knowledge and licked the venom from the poor boy’s fur, avoiding his eyes.
At the approach of an Ice Fang, a fur rose at the back of her neck until she recognized her as the irritating medic she had met before. The medic bared her throat, and Janine relented, watching the traitor remove the blood-soaked bandages and treat the injuries as the APCs roared their engines, their drives whipped into action by the fear wave.
Iron Lord thrust his halberd into the claws that approached his force field. Like Janine’s axe, they withstood the field of destruction. Unlike the Taleteller, they closed in, destroying blade and hilt and opening Iron Lord’s side. Oil, mixed with blood and streaked with electrical hisses, poured from the mechanical guts onto the ground.
“Horkhudagh! I need you!” Iron Lord shouted, and in response, the sky answered.
A beam of the brightest crimson burned its way through a cloud and streaked down, similar to the arrival of the cursed Lightbringer, the Elite of Iterna, and a New Breed superior to many. But Lightbringer traveled in a stream of photons, and what touched the ground now was the ultra-heated magma. Its heat burned away Alpha’s ugly flesh and bone ornamentation, and as the ropes holding her topknot turned to dust, her hair spread, loosening to cover her like a cloak as she stood in the black and red light.
Then the stream stopped, producing a molten crater that separated the fighters. An orb of blue flame rose from it, sprouting blackened arms and legs and forming into a humanoid. Two dots formed on the black skull, and a thin line opened a mouth, letting fiery red streaks lick at the forming teeth. Wings stretched out behind the floating man, each a different color: red, white, and blue. The video that appeared on Janine’s HUD became blurry as her fellow warlord’s cameras began to malfunction from the presence of the unbelievable heat.
Iron Lord cursed in his human voice, limping away, his armor melting, his very blood boiling. The raiders surrounded him, and even Brood Lord shut up, fearfully holding a hand over his face. Flames raged among the ruins, blocking Alpha from reaching her prey, and piles of ruins spilled over, folding in on themselves as they melted. The figure grew, matching Alpha’s size.
“Done!” Iron Lord gave a cackling laugh, facing a tear in space.
Brood Lord gasped, clutching his heart. Alpha intensified her fear wave, stopping the hearts of those trying to escape. Iron Lord had to grab the khan, dragging him after himself, while the hordemen around helped themselves, abandoning their dying steeds. Only Iron Lord’s bull survived.
But Iron Lord kept laughing. “A high-value target! More precious than all the others. Baited into my trap. Horkhudagh! Keep her occupied. It won’t be long now, and if you annihilate the other warlords, I promise you the richest lands in Houstad!”
“Keeping her occupied?” Horkhudagh’s voice resembled the crackling of burning wood, mixed with the noise of hissing water turning to steam. The black holes in his skull stared at Alpha. “No. I have waited long enough. It is a rare sight to see Iron Lord Khan lose his composure enough to reveal his plans. Did your power do it?” The living pillar waited for the answer, but none came. “Ever since I heard of you, I have been filled with anticipation. The second strongest in the Gilded Horde! Against the fifth of the Reclaimers! Aren’t you just burning with anticipation to learn which legend will prevail?”
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“Meh,” Alpha replied.
The two charged at each other with full force.
****
Iron Lord stumbled out of the portal, panting and fighting for every breath. The internal systems sent repeated warnings. Risk of stroke. A vein in his brain burst. Eyes hemorrhaging. Organ failure from excessive damage. The khan shut them off, welcoming the familiar calmness returning to his mind.
Still not there. Decades of extensive surgery on his body to merge him closer to a machine and an emotion manipulator had nearly done him in. But nearly doesn’t count, girl!
“To the healers. And take that with you,” he told his bodyguards, dropping Brood Lord to the ground like a sack of shit. White foam frothed on the man’s lips, his limbs convulsed, and he clawed at his throat, brought to the brink of death by a simple mental push. Pathetic.
“Father,” Zulfiya came closer, shocked to the core by the death of her heart. He smiled, proud of her ability to keep the panic at bay. “What they said about Mehmed. Was it…”
“Not important.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Girl, he’s gone. Dead because he was one of the weak. Don’t waste any more time. We are alive. We matter, and I need you. Can I count on you and the rest of my children?”
“Yes, Father.” She bowed her head. “But if Mehmed is alive…”
“If he is alive, I will arrange a prisoner exchange,” Iron Lord promised. “But the boy is gone. His mind broke. Your brother is no more. Understand it, accept it. I am proud of you.”
“Really?” Zulfiya blinked. He never said that to any of his children. “But I ran.”
“So did I. So did everyone. We’ll grow stronger. But you acted where I faltered. I was about to waste precious time killing a useless child, and you stopped me, Zulfiya. You did what I could not. Your mother will be so happy.”
“Mom… So many of my brothers and sisters have died.”
“Yes, the unfortunate inevitability of war. What’s important is that their sacrifices will be in vain if we join them. We owe them a victory.” He patted her shoulder. “Enough distractions. See yourself treated and then head into the camp, collecting every captive doggie. Take them by force from Brood Lord; that bastard deserves an insult. Buy from Slavetaker and respectfully petition the Khatun’s share.”
“But… why?”
“I promised clemency, and I never go back on my word. Ask Slavetaker for healers and keep our guests alive, well, and comfortable. Give them chai and meat in abundance. We’ll let them go when the subjugation is over.” Iron Lord told her.
His voice wavered, his old body struggling to survive, and Iron Lord spread his arms, showing that the audience was over. Technicians surrounded him, repairing the damage done to his steel as it, in turn, worked to save him. And above them towered the Sky’s Wrath.
“Helmets, idiots!” Iron Lord told his crew. Lesser men they may have been, but their enthusiasm was commendable.
The war engine without equal, its supermassive cannon mounted on tracks larger than hills, shrouded the assembly in its shadow and hid the sun behind its barrel. Fired less than a dozen times in past conquests, the mere sight and rumor of its destructive potential sent the hosts into panic. Slaves were herded into wagons, stable masters sedated animals, and the hordemen hastily put on their helmets, for when the Wrath thundered, everything trembled.
A clearing stretched out behind the superweapon, created by its immense mass flattening everything in its path, and hundreds of vehicles comfortably followed. The Sky’s Wrath weighed heavily, tormenting the ground even now, and its tracks sank deep. Rows of deadly turrets, smaller artillery, missile launchers, and energy cannons bristled along its hull, ready to unleash hell upon any fool that dared challenge the beast of the apocalypse.
Almost anyone would be felled by them, but not Alpha. There was a good chance she would have escaped. Her elimination required a more radical method.
Inside the machine stood shield generators, far superior to the crude toys used by Iron Lord and even the Horde’s vehicles. These were the artifacts of the Old World; their output could stop even the cannon’s own fire. Up until now, its auxiliary guns were talking; it was the moment to let the main cannon declare its sentence at long last.
“Connect me,” Iron Lord said.
“Sir, your health is not in optimal condition to operate it remotely,” a technician dared to voice his objection.
“I am aware of that,” Iron Lord said, hating every second of hearing his old, frail, clattering voice. Why must humans grow old? He did not strike the man, respecting his competence. “It won’t be long, and then I am all yours.”
The cables entered his back, and his conscience left his body and entered the terminals of the god machine. His brain was still working; it was still him, but the unique connection allowed him to see through each camera and experience the environment through the clarity of its sensors without the slightest effort. In the distance, the targeting systems located the city, and the cannon adjusted itself to his wishes.
“And now for the final swath. You arrogant mutant. Know the futility of defying your betters. Fire.”
A single word. There was no need to speak it, for their crude devices translated his thoughts into binary language and carried out the command. Nor did anyone nearby hear him, for the cannon spoke. But the coming awe demanded a proper ritual.
Imagine a hurricane born in a second. Think of an earthquake scarring a land with vast canyons faster than an eye can blink. None of these descriptions sufficed to paint the picture of what was happening around Iron Lord. Forests disappeared for kilometers around. The traversing shockwave didn’t bend the trees; it uprooted them, then shattered the trunks into a neat dust.
The cover of greenery disappeared, exposing gray rock and jagged stone. The heavy vehicles shook, and the technicians struggled to hold their ground, despite the advanced exoskeletons that were supposed to protect them, and if it weren’t for his personal force shield, they would have been sent over the horizon. Far in the rear, the priests fell to their knees, chanting praises and ignoring cuts appearing on their bodies. There were even several deaths from the ranks of those who chose to ignore the precise precautions.
It scarcely mattered. The Sky’s Wrath had sent its load.