A deep, relentless rumble rolled through the battlefield, shaking Cassie to her core. She staggered, her instincts screaming that this was another strike from Cera. But the vibration felt different—relentless, spreading outward like shockwaves from the planet’s core. A distant roar began to build, growing closer, its ominous hum swallowing every other sound.

Cassie’s eyes darted upward, searching the darkened sky.

The missiles came in streaks of burning red, splitting the blackness like cracks in glass. Their arcs were precise, aimed for the heart of the ruins. For one terrible moment, she thought it was another precursor attack, one more blow in Haides’s endless arsenal. But then her wrist console buzzed weakly, a faint blue insignia flickering on its cracked screen.

It was Robin’s signal.

The realization struck her harder than any of the explosions around her. The artillery fire wasn’t Haides’s. It was coming from the east, the direction Robin had been. He was still fighting, still trying to reach them.

For the first time, doubt clawed its way into Cassie’s thoughts.

Commander Robin hadn’t abandoned them.

The ground rocked as the first missile hit, obliterating a distant tower in a cascade of fire and debris. The shockwave sent Cassie stumbling, her blade clutched tightly as she crouched for balance. Her eyes cut to Evelyn, who stood a few paces away, her face illuminated by the glow of the incoming barrage.

“Do you see it?” Cassie said, her voice tight. “Robin’s still out there. He’s trying to save us.”

Evelyn didn’t turn, her expression shadowed. “You’re kidding yourself.”

“He could’ve left,” Cassie continued, the words spilling out before she could stop them. Her breath came quick, uneven, as if she were convincing herself as much as Evelyn. “He’s risking his life—for us.”

At that, Evelyn did turn. The bitter twist of her lips was sharper than any blade. “Don’t start pretending Robin’s some kind of savior,” she snapped. “You know better than that.”

Cassie’s grip on her blade tightened. The name Robin had given her, the kindnesses he had shown—it had all felt like a game to her, a way to toy with something broken. But now, as the missiles rained down, that perception cracked.

“Maybe he’s not perfect,” Cassie said, forcing the words past the tightness in her throat. “Maybe none of them are. But you can’t deny he’s different. He’s trying.”

Evelyn let out a harsh laugh, her voice cutting through the chaos like a knife. “Different? You think his ‘kindness’ makes him better? It’s fake, Cassie. He doesn’t see us as people—he never will. No human does. Whatever Robin’s reasons are for treating us this way, I promise you, they aren’t about helping us. He’s got an angle, and whatever it is, it’s not good for us.”

The accusation hit Cassie like a blow. The part of her that had always doubted Robin, always expected the lie beneath his kindness, wanted to agree. But Evelyn’s words sounded hollow against the memory of Robin standing in the line of fire, dragging newts to safety when no one else would.

“I don’t know why he does it,” Cassie said, her voice raw. “But he’s not like them. And I’d rather fight beside him than kneel to this.”

She motioned toward Haides, who stood motionless amidst the destruction, his calm gaze fixed on the approaching firestorm. His aura of detachment was unshaken, as though he were above it all, a god watching his world burn.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Evelyn’s face twisted with fury, her blade gleaming in the hellish light. “Then you’re a fool.”

The ground rocked again as another missile struck, closer this time. Shrapnel tore through the air, a jagged piece grazing Cassie’s arm and sending a hot, sharp pain shooting through her body. She staggered, but her blade stayed steady in her hand.

Cera’s voice emerged from the haze, sing-song and mocking. “Oh, how dramatic! A little lover’s quarrel in the middle of all this chaos. Do go on—it’s riveting.”

Cassie ignored the machina’s taunt, her focus locked on Evelyn. “This isn’t you,” she said, her voice strained. “You don’t have to do this. We can still fight. Robin’s out there—he hasn’t given up on us, and I’m not giving up on you.”

Evelyn’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, something flickered in her expression—hesitation, doubt. But it vanished as quickly as it came.

“You’re wasting your breath,” Evelyn said coldly. “I already made my choice.”

She lunged, her blade slicing toward Cassie’s shoulder. Cassie blocked it just in time, the force of the impact rattling through her arms. She twisted, using the momentum to shove Evelyn back, but her footing slipped on loose rubble.

Cera advanced, her massive frame blocking out what little light remained. One of her heads snapped toward Cassie, teeth glinting like razors. Cassie rolled to the side, the machina’s jaws missing her by inches.

The fight blurred into chaos—Cassie dodging Cera’s strikes, parrying Evelyn’s blade, the heat of the missiles roaring in her ears. Every movement sent fresh pain shooting through her injured arm, but she kept moving, kept fighting.

Evelyn’s voice cut through the haze, sharp and taunting. “What’s the point, Cassie? You think Robin’s going to ride in and save the day? He’s not coming. He doesn’t care.”

Cassie gritted her teeth, deflecting another strike. “If he didn’t care, he wouldn’t be out there right now! He’s risking his life for us—for you, even now!”

Evelyn’s blade slammed against Cassie’s, the force driving her back. “You’re delusional,” Evelyn spat. “Robin’s not risking his life for us. He’s doing it for himself, for whatever twisted reason humans like him keep us around. And you’re too blind to see it. You can’t handle the truth!”

The ground trembled again, a warning rumble that grew into a deafening roar as another missile struck nearby. The explosion tore through the ruins, a shockwave ripping them apart. Cassie barely had time to react before she was thrown into the air.

The world spun, a blur of smoke, fire, and jagged debris. She hit the ground hard, the impact driving the air from her lungs. Stars exploded in her vision, and for a moment, she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

When her senses returned, the first thing she saw was Cera’s glowing eyes. They loomed over her, unblinking, like twin suns burning through the smoke.

Evelyn was nowhere to be seen.

“Ah,” Cera purred, her voice almost gentle. “Still alive, are we? How wonderfully persistent. Do you remember how many breads have you eaten in your life?”

Cassie’s vision blurred again, darkness creeping at the edges. She could hear Haides’s voice, smooth and unyielding, cutting through the chaos. “Cera, move. Now. The Alabaster Orthodoxy thinks we’re in their way.”

Cera’s glowing eyes narrowed, the mockery in her voice giving way to a hint of respect. “In their way?” she repeated, her tone sharp but deferential. “How absurd. We’re on the same side, my liege.” Her mechanical jaws clicked together, a low, grating sound like grinding metal. “Unless you’ve been keeping secrets... again.”

Haides didn’t respond, his attention fixed upward.

Cassie followed his gaze, and her heart sank. Above them, the sky tore open with blinding golden light. A massive construct of energy materialized—a spiraling shell of intertwined and crisscrossed gold strips, twisting and spinning with relentless purpose.

It descended slowly, a vast, grinding drill falling from the heavens like a vengeful meteor.

Cera hissed, her heads swiveling toward the approaching construct. “You’d better explain this, my liege,” she said, her usual mockery replaced with a quiet, simmering fury. “If they think I’ll bow to their tantrums, they’re gravely mistaken.”

But Haides didn’t flinch, his voice as calm and detached as ever. “Their tantrum doesn’t care whether you bow or not. Move, Cera, unless you want to be erased.”

There was a slight pause, almost imperceptible, before he continued, his tone softening by the faintest degree. “I’d rather not lose you to their foolishness.”

For a moment, Cera hesitated, her glowing eyes flitting between Haides and the descending construct. Then her heads snapped toward Cassie, her mocking smirk returning. “Well, isn’t this interesting. Let’s see how your precious Robin handles this.”

Cassie barely registered the words before the golden drill made contact, and the world exploded in a blinding storm of fire and energy.