Silence suffocated the battlefield, a heavy, oppressive force pressing down on Cassie’s chest. She forced herself to breathe slowly, ignoring the raw, metallic taste of fear at the back of her throat. Her hands gripped the rifle so tightly her fingers ached, but the weapon felt heavier now, useless in the face of what stood before her.

Cassie’s gaze shifted to the dagger at her side, its gleaming blade a stark contrast to the tension in the air. A birthday gift from Commander Robin, a symbol of trust and strength.

She remembered Robin’s voice, calm and steady: “When you have a birthday, you celebrate being born.” The words echoed in Cassie’s mind, but they didn’t fit.

Cassie wasn’t born. She was made. Birth had no place in her existence. Yet, when Robin had spoken those words, there was a softness in his eyes, a fleeting moment of warmth.

Had he meant it for her, or was he simply trying to remind her of something she would never truly understand?

The dagger at her side gleamed once more, a reminder of the life she didn’t have—and the purpose that defined her. In this moment, she doubted it would be of much use. The blade felt like an afterthought, a fragile piece of metal in a world that demanded something far more dangerous.

She traced the etched words along the blade, its cold surface biting into her synthetic skin: Never give up without a fight. They seemed almost hollow now, a promise she wasn’t sure she could keep.

Beside her, Evelyn muttered a curse, low and bitter. Her plasma rifle dangled at her side, its barrel chipped and blackened. “We’re out of ammo,” she said flatly, almost to herself. “Out of options. Out of everything.” She shifted her weight, glaring at the motionless three-headed machina like she might lunge at it with her bare hands. “This is it, huh? This is how it ends.”

Cassie didn’t reply. Her gaze was locked on the figure moving toward them. He seemed to glide through the rubble, the tattered edges of his black coat trailing behind him as if caught in an unseen current. Each step radiated authority, the kind that turned lesser beings into subjects with a glance.

Behind him, the battlefield lay in unnatural stillness. Fires flickered weakly, robbed of their fury. The three-headed machina crouched obediently, its gleaming red eyes focused solely on the man. Even the wind seemed to hesitate, as though afraid to disturb his passage.

Haides stopped several meters away, surveying the scene with a faint smile that made Cassie’s skin crawl. His silver hair glinted in the dim, smoky light, untouched by the filth of war. He looked as if he belonged to another world entirely—and perhaps he did.

“Few have impressed me as much as you have today, Grey Heron.” he said, his voice smooth and unhurried. It carried a resonance that filled the air, brushing against the edges of her mind like an unwelcome caress.

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Cassie tightened her grip on the rifle. She wasn’t sure if the trembling in her hands came from exhaustion or rage. She didn’t trust herself to speak, not yet. Beside her, Evelyn spat at the ground but said nothing.

Haides studied them for a moment longer, then inclined his head slightly, like a monarch acknowledging a pair of his subjects. “You must realize,” he continued, “that resistance is futile. Reinforcements will not come. Your human leaders have already forsaken your kind.” His smile deepened. “I am not here to destroy you. I am here to offer you something far more valuable.”

Cassie felt the weight of his gaze settle on her, heavy and insistent. She held it, refusing to flinch.

“Join me,” Haides said simply. “Swear loyalty to the Blast Furnace, and you will have a place in the new order after the Great Work is over. Resist, and…” He gestured toward the kneeling machina. The subtle creak of its shifting weight was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

Evelyn barked out a humorless laugh. “A place in the new order?” she snapped. “As what? More expendable weapons for you to toss into the grinder?”

Haides raised an eyebrow, unperturbed. “You misunderstand. You are no longer bound to the whims of your creators. I offer you freedom—true freedom. The choice to shape your own destiny. To survive.”

The word lingered in the air, sharp and deliberate. Cassie’s mind raced, weighing every syllable, every angle. His tone wasn’t a demand; it was an inevitability. He was certain they would accept.

But Evelyn’s next move shattered that certainty.

Her rifle hit the ground with a dull thud, and she stepped forward. Her voice cracked with anger as she spoke, her words raw and unfiltered. “Freedom? You think we don’t know what that word means? Humanity built us to fight their wars, to die for their mistakes. And when they were done with us, they left us to rot. They call us ‘newts’ like we’re some kind of freak experiment—like we’re less than human.”

Cassie’s heart sank as Evelyn dropped to one knee.

“But you’re right about one thing,” Evelyn continued, glaring at Haides with tears streaking through the grime on her face. “They abandoned us. And I’m done dying for people who don’t give a damn.”

Haides’s expression softened, almost imperceptibly. He stepped closer, his voice taking on an almost fatherly tone. “You see the truth,” he said, his words dripping with approval. “You understand the futility of clinging to a broken order. Join me, and you will not regret it.”

Cassie wanted to scream, to grab Evelyn and drag her away, but her body refused to move. She felt the weight of Evelyn’s decision crashing down on her, an unbearable betrayal she hadn’t seen coming.

Haides turned his attention back to Cassie, his gaze sharp and expectant. “And you?” he asked. “Will you stand beside your comrade in this new era? Or will you throw your life away for a cause that has already failed you?”

Cassie’s blood boiled, a storm of rage and despair surging through her veins. She took a step forward, her boots crunching on shattered glass, and leveled her rifle at Haides. The trembling in her hands stilled, replaced by cold fury.

“You don’t get it,” she said, her voice low and venomous. “I didn’t survive this long just to trade one master for another. You might think we’re broken, but we’re not yours to fix. And I’ll take my chances with my commander over you any day.”

For the first time, Haides’s composure faltered. It was fleeting—a flicker of surprise, gone almost before it appeared. Then his smile returned, sharper and colder than before.

“Fascinating,” he murmured. “Such defiance, even in the face of certain death. You remind me of someone I once knew.”

Cassie didn’t lower her rifle. She knew it had no remaining ammo, but Haides didn’t know that yet. It might buy her enough time to—

“Well, would you look at the time,” Haides said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He raised a hand, and the machina stirred. Its heads lifted, jaws parting to reveal rows of serrated metal teeth that gleamed like polished steel. “Cera, execute order 66.”