Zelen’s world was a dissonant and insensate haze.

The enemy unit doesn’t match anything in my knowledge bank, Kingfisher. Try to be ready for anything.

Zelen didn’t react. Didn’t register. Didn’t hear. All four of his armaments, and indeed all four of his Eidolon’s limbs remained inert as the apparition of malicious intent before him spun and scuttled on its too many appendages, before the glint of its singular optic trained upon its new prey.

The unidentified enemy unit is now targeting you, Kingfisher. How will you proceed? Kingfisher?

Still Zelen didn’t move. Couldn’t? Wouldn’t? It made no difference as the too many limbs suddenly straightened all at once, launching the entire machine toward Zelen at the same impossible speed with which it had snared Amphibian.

And just as Zelen had witnessed his mentor’s death, he saw his own as plain as day: delivered at the ends of shadowy limbs that stretched and morphed into something jagged and murderous.

Death. Finality. The end.

Zelen saw, felt, understood, and remembered cold blades plunging into his and his Eidolon’s core.

Yet in the next instant, he found himself in open air, lateral thrusters active and whole frame freed from the shadow of death that had passed him by. The Syntropy’s two frontmost limbs buried themselves into the patch of earth where Zelen had stood just a second ago. It quickly ripped up the earth and spun onto him again, its red optic gleaming with a hunger that was incongruous with the rest of its synthetic body.

Perhaps the optimal course of action is to retreat and regroup, Kingfisher. Or, at the very least—

But Zelen was stuck inside his own paralyzed mind: a tunnel of fear and the inevitable. His vision and indeed his entire consciousness was transfixed upon the synthetic reaper, too afraid to leave it out of his sight. For the only thing more terrifying than death was the idea that it could come for him with his back turned.

The reaper sprang again, limbs outstretched, and an iteration of Zelen’s body and mind once more felt the cold finality of his enemy’s blades. But the Zelen that remained on the battlefield had again quickthrust out of the way, this time spraying the space before him with [GATLING].

The bullets missed, or if they’d hit, the reaper showed no signs of it, as its body swivelled and its limbs scuttled, ever in alignment with Zelen’s position. Indefatigable, unrelenting, ruthless—it rushed toward him again, dodging his aimless [CLUSTER LAUNCHERS] with jerky movements that defied everything he knew about how things of this world ought to move.

The reaper jumped, optic fixed upon its prey and limbs spread in a radial pattern like a grotesque facsimile of the sun that hid behind the planet’s haze. This shadowy sun threatened to wrap Zelen in its embrace, just like it had Amphibian moments ago, and once again, death crossed and fused with the young Reiter’s being.

Caught between two minds, Zelen failed to activate thrusters in time. The only thing he could think to do was bring his left arm in front in a protective gesture, as he pulled the trigger on [BLUNDERBUSS].

The muzzle flash clashed against the reaper’s shadow, and the accompanying impact produced a metallic keening that deafened Zelen even inside his Nexa-Suit. Multiple blades scraped against the Eidolon’s frame, though with force attenuated as the main body bounced away from the point of contact. The reaper tore up more dirt and rocks as it skidded away from Zelen, but it flipped itself upright almost immediately, apparently no worse for wear.

AU at 40%, Kingfisher. Please hold on.

The heat of battle had clarified enough of Zelen’s mind that he managed to take in his Spiegel’s words, though not everything about them made sense. Hold on? Hold on for what?

The reaper gave him no time to ponder, as it resumed its jerky scuttling. It didn’t immediately jump toward Zelen, however, having required only one data point to readjust its strategy. Instead, it circled its prey at dizzying speed, forcing the Reiter to strain and twist incessantly within his Nexa-Suit, just to keep his Eidolon’s SPU pointed onto their immediate threat.

Even as he spun and danced awkwardly, Zelen kept up a barrage of [GATLING] and [CLUSTER LAUNCHERS], hoping, praying that something would stick and end this nightmare. Against an unknown enemy, all his training had gone out the window. There was no rhythm, no rotation, nor technique to his fighting, as he simply deployed any and all of his armaments as soon as they came off cooldown.

None of them hit, and the reaper continued its shadowy dance unperturbed, occasionally jerking into a feint that made Zelen grip his left-sided trigger with a hand taut with fear and trembling with fatigue.

Energy Reserves down to 25%, Kingfisher. Please hold on. Just a little longer.

There it was again. Hold on. A little longer. What was he meant to wait for?

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

The more pertinent part of that message was the fact his ER was dwindling at an alarming rate. It was no surprise, given how liberal he’d been with his armament deployments, not to mention the tremendous strain he was under, both Somatically and Psychically.

The fight would be over soon, whether he liked it or not. Either he found a way to take down the reaper, or he’d run out of options to stay alive.

The thought of it almost came as a relief, so profoundly distressed was he by the ordeal. Maybe dying wasn’t so bad, if it could once and for all release him from this nightmare…

As if sensing the crack in its prey’s resolve, the reaper made its move, limbs extending to launch it into a dive, hard and low to the ground.

Relying on the one data point he himself had managed to gather, Zelen hastily raised his left arm and pulled the trigger on [BLUNDERBUSS].

It missed. Or rather, the reaper had jerked out of the way, evidently having anticipated Zelen’s response. There was no clash of muzzle flash on shadows, and no metallic keening.

Instead, there was only the black sun that threatened to swallow Reiter and Eidolon whole.

Death.

That was when the black sun took on an entirely new light, as it burst into flames.

Zelen watched, frozen, as the reaper scurried away, its too many limbs flailing and fanning itself as orange flames spread across its entire body. It no longer had Zelen in its sights, now caught in its own fight for survival.

Next came the rattle of gunfire as another Eidolon swept into the picture. This phantom’s frame was a field of rusted crimson cut with dark segmented spirals that evoked the coils of a centipede—Spindrift.

Spindrift now descended upon the unidentified Syntropy, absent hesitation nor wasted movement. He chased the scurrying machine with leading bursts of RA [FUSILIER], before scorching it anew with a fresh charge of LA [FLAMMENWERFER].

But even the great Spindrift couldn’t defy the mechanical limitations of human engineering. He thrust and chased, but the Syntropy scurried ever faster, away and out of range from its pursuer’s attacks.

Suddenly, the erstwhile reaper jumped into the air and folded its chassis and limbs neatly into a compact spike-like shape. The sharp end of this spike pointed toward the ground beneath. Watching this, it took a dazed Zelen only an instant to realize what the Syntropy was about to do. It’s trying to burrow underground again and reset its ambush!

But the machine’s plans met interference in the form of a third Eidolon. The newcomer dove down from the sky and pierced the enemy’s chassis with the three-pronged end of his LA [GUNGNIR].

The blades of [GUNGNIR] pinned the Syntropy against the ground. Its too many limbs spread and rose one last time, before shrivelling and falling limply to its sides.

Enemy unit eliminated. The kill has been awarded to Glasswing.

Zelen blinked, still in disbelief of what he’d witnessed. Then something exploded in the background, and his vision swivelled to capture the moment where the generator the Syntropy had been protecting also went up in flames. Beside its burning remains now stood Spindrift.

Objective Charlie destroyed. Well done, Kingfisher. Your job here is done.

But… what did he do? All he did was run around like a headless chicken until help arrived. All he did was stand and watch as his friend and mentor died at the hands of the enemy.

And somehow, somewhere or somewhen during the fighting, Zelen himself had died… He didn’t know how, or why he could still be standing now if that had been the case, but the memories of his death felt as real as the fear that still gripped his heart.

Oblivious or indifferent to Zelen’s inner turmoil, Spindrift’s cool voice broke through the radio, carrying no signs of his earlier struggle, “This is Spindrift. Encountered a delay and slight change of plans, but Objective Charlie has been destroyed. Alpha Team now moving in on the main objective. Tripod, join the assault. Glasswing, with me. Spindrift out.”

“This is Tripod. Acknowledged. Joining the assault on the main objective. Tripod out.”

As Spindrift’s crimson frame flew away from the scene, as quickly as it had entered it, Zelen numbly reflected that he himself hadn’t been included in the orders. He intuited that there’d been no need. It was clear for anyone to see that he was in no shape to continue with the mission, and he doubted he could summon the will to fight even if he’d been ordered to.

A beep inside the cockpit indicated that someone was contacting Zelen through a private channel. He accepted, not stopping to wonder who it might be.

“Athelstan?” Megha spoke in a somewhat shaky voice. “How… how’re you holding up?”

Zelen looked across the smoky battlefield, hoping to find his friend’s gaze. Instead, all he saw was the frame of an Eidolon. It was teal in colour, with shoddy paintwork that did evoke something of the Megha he knew, but it contained none of the Vakta boy’s warmth and humour.

“Yeah,” Zelen answered hoarsely, surprised by the dryness of his mouth and throat. “Yeah, I’m… I’m alright.”

“Listen, man. About Captain Vasseur… It wasn’t your fault. There was nothing—oh shit, I gotta go! We’ll talk later on base!”

The private channel cut off abruptly, and Zelen watched the metallic giant that carried his friend fly off and leave behind a contrail of smoke and ghostly blue energy.

Zelen knew that he was wrapped inside the same killing machine—humanity’s only defense against a faceless enemy that had hounded them for 140 years—but as he stood frozen amongst a charred wreckage, he could only feel himself to be naked and alone.

Then the thought struck him that somewhere amidst this wreckage lay the remains of Amphi—of Ambrose Vasseur, still encased within his own metallic prison.

And this thought was enough to sap away the last of Zelen’s strength. Knees weak, he bucked and sank inside his Nexa-Suit, and his Eidolon sought to mimic this by kneeling on the ground.

Kingfisher?

A voice penetrated his mind with its constant clarity, and Zelen was reminded that, for better or for worse, inside this metallic prison, he was never totally alone. He fought back his tears and forced himself back to reality.

Kingfisher, enemy drone units are approaching. Might I suggest you retreat to a safer position to wait out the completion of the mission?

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

How do you mean, Kingfisher?

“You called in reinforcements. Something I should’ve done right away, but didn’t… because I completely lost my shit back there.”

I only did what I deemed was necessary to assist you, Kingfisher.

“Yeah…” Zelen’s voice trickled out in a hoarse whisper. “Yeah, that was a good call. I owe you one. Not that… not that I have any way to repay you, I guess.”

Think nothing of it, Kingfisher. But I say again, drone units converging on your position. Shall we retreat? So we might live to fight another day?

With a shuddering sigh, Zelen blew out the last of the air he’d been holding in since the moment death had exploded out of unseen shadows. Then he whispered, “Yeah… let’s do that.”