The Rhythm of Control

Kaelyn stepped forward into the ruins, her katana gleaming faintly under the fractured light. The scar on her shoulder plate was still visible, a faint jagged mark etched into the otherwise battle-worn surface of Aegis Wrath. It was a reminder of another time—when she had been new to this, when the weight of her blade had felt foreign and the core’s rhythm had been just out of reach.

But that had been then.

The Ruinborn pack snarled as they caught sight of her, their growls rising into a frenzy. Low-tier Drones skittered forward, their claws scraping against the broken stone. Behind them, the heavier Strikers moved into position, their forms coiled with lethal intent.

Kaelyn was alone, and she was in their way.

She rested her hand lightly on the hilt of her blade. The hum of Aegis Wrath resonated, faint at first, like the distant echo of a tuning fork. Kaelyn’s core beats rippled through her—not in separate layers, but as a living rhythm, threading together the sharp anticipation of beta with the expansive clarity of alpha. It wasn’t thought—thought was too slow. This was instinct refined into harmony, action wound tight into potential.

The swarm rushed her, unrelenting. Lesser beasts crashed forward, their claws carving trails into the stone, while the larger predators closed in like shadows swallowing the light. Chaos screamed toward her, its edges jagged, threatening to split her apart.

Kaelyn exhaled, and the rhythm shifted—not abrupt, but like the ebb and flow of a tide. The sharp pulses of beta didn’t vanish; they softened, folding into the broader, steadier resonance of alpha. It wasn’t a replacement; it was an integration. The beats layered together, sharpening her focus while anchoring her presence, until every detail of the chaotic storm before her became unbearably clear.

Alpha wasn’t stillness. It was motion contained within control. The Ruinborn’s snarls fractured into patterns, their chaotic frenzy reduced to a tapestry of precision. The rhythm of her core didn’t merely resist the storm; it shaped it, molded it into something she could command.

And through it all, delta whispered. A grounding pulse, low and inevitable, thrummed faintly beneath the surface. It wasn’t slow; it was foundational, a steady rhythm that held her stance, her breath, her balance. Each beat of delta bled into the alpha resonance, reinforcing her connection to the ground beneath her, the space around her, the katana at her side.

Kaelyn lowered her stance, the magic within the blade humming faintly, resonating with the layered beats. The Ruinborn surged closer, their feral hunger crashing against her calm. The claws raking through the air seemed distant, muted by the interplay of rhythms that coursed through her.

The faintest spark of gamma flickered at the edge of her awareness—not fully present, but ready, compressed, coiled within the katana’s edge. It was neither frantic nor forced; it was the natural culmination of all that came before. The beats didn’t switch—they threaded together, a singular rhythm that bound clarity, readiness, and inevitability into a single breath.

This was iaido (居合道)—not a series of steps, but a state of being. Motion held in suspension, power balanced on the razor’s edge of restraint. The beats resonated through her blade, her body, her breath, flowing as one.

And when the moment arrived, the rhythm itself would release.

The Nightingale’s Edgebreaker

“She’s in alpha resonance,” Faye’s voice crackled through the comms, precise and unwavering. “To maintain perfect alpha resonance in the middle of a frontal charge. That’s why she’s legendary.”

Yongnian’s breath caught. How could anyone fight like that?

Stillness enveloped Kaelyn, her presence grounded as the hum of her mana core resonated faintly in the back of her mind—not a sound, but a presence. The beats didn’t shift or waver; they held steady, locked in a single, unified rhythm. Alpha precision. Beta tension. Threaded together into a singular focus.

There was no room for thought. Thought was too slow.

The Ruinborn surged forward, moving with the precision of a hunting pack. Smaller Drones darted along the edges, probing for openings as they sought to encircle Kaelyn, while the Strikers advanced at the center, their deliberate steps crushing the stone beneath them. One Striker pushed ahead, its glowing eyes fixed on her with unblinking intensity. The air around it reeked of a sharp, acrid stench—metallic and bitter, undercut by the unmistakable tang of rot. From the cracks in its jagged frame seeped the Essence of Decay, a dormant corruption capable of infecting any mana it touched, even a knight’s mana core. The drones shifted seamlessly with the Striker’s movements, their formation tightening as they prepared to strike. The battlefield grew heavy with their advance, the grinding of claws and the oppressive weight of decay pressing in from all sides.

The air cracked as she vanished, the Ruinborn’s leading Striker collapsing in silence, its head severed cleanly before the others even registered her presence. Aegis Wrath’s motion shattered the sound barrier, its edge leaving sharp, rippling shockwaves in its wake. The ash-filled air churned faintly, displaced with surgical precision. Kaelyn reappeared deep within the swarm, her katana cutting upward in a seamless arc that split a second Striker’s core. The massive creature’s motion ceased instantly, its body collapsing under its own weight, blood pooling beneath its broken frame.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Kaelyn’s gaze locked onto the third Striker, a faint glint on the far edge of the battlefield. Without hesitation, she charged through the smaller Drones, their claws swiping at empty air as Aegis Wrath cut them down in precise arcs. Severed cores and collapsing frames marked her path as she closed the distance in a blur. Her katana struck true, plunging through the back of the Striker’s neck in a fluid thrust that severed its spine. The massive creature crumpled instantly, lifeless, as she pivoted smoothly to dispatch a Drone attempting to flank her.

In less than a heartbeat, three more fell. A thunderous crack split the air, and then another. She tore through the battlefield in a blur of silver and shadow. Her katana flashed, severing limbs and dismantling bodies. To the swarm, she was untouchable—too fast, too precise. The battlefield bent to her will, her presence an unrelenting storm that swept through them faster than they could process.

“She’s...” Yongnian’s voice delayed and breathless. His words trailed off, unable to catch up with what his eyes had just witnessed.

Kaelyn darted through the next wave of Drones, her katana carving paths of destruction that seemed impossible to follow. She wasn’t moving randomly; her strikes were calculated, threading through the swarm in perfect rhythm. Each motion unraveled the cohesion of the pack, her speed dismantling their formations before they could react.

The tide of the battle shifted. What had been an overwhelming assault now dissolved into chaos. The Ruinborn lost their coordination, their attacks growing erratic as Kaelyn dismantled them piece by piece. She crossed the battlefield in a blur, her speed creating faint ripples in the air, displacing dust and loose debris with precise, controlled force. The final Striker lunged, its desperation palpable as it hurled itself toward her. Kaelyn sidestepped, her blade rising in a swift arc that severed its head. The massive creature fell, its momentum extinguished.

The battlefield fell silent before a single thought could crystallize.

Kaelyn stood amidst the ruins, her katana humming faintly as she slid it back into its sheath. Her gaze swept across the battlefield, taking in the silence she had carved into existence. The resonance within her mana core didn’t fade—it held steady, unwavering, a singular rhythm of precision, like the hum of a perfectly tuned machine. Alpha precision persisted, her control unbroken even in the absence of movement.

It was over in less than five seconds.

She remained where she stood, her breath steady and unhurried, a lone figure amid the shattered remnants of the Ruinborn. The air around her still trembled, as if unwilling to let go of the speed and precision she had unleashed. Dust swirled in faint spirals, settling slowly in the heavy silence.

Cora’s voice returned, calm and precise. “Engagement complete. No hostiles remain.”

Kaelyn exhaled softly, her fingers brushing against the hilt of Aegis Wrath. She remained in perfect resonance, her focus unwavering. For now, there was nothing more to do. She stood still, her presence heavy in the trembling air, the echoes of her speed lingering like an unbroken memory.

Fractured Harmonics of the Mind

The transport drone landed in the staging area with a faint hum. Kaelyn dismounted from Aegis Wrath and stepped into the command post as the bay doors sealed behind her, muffling the armor’s fading systems. She leaned against Aegis Wrath, her gauntlets off and tucked under one arm. Flexing her fingers absently, she let her gaze drift over the scorched crest of her armor. “Faye, it’s all yours,” she said, her voice steady but laced with faint weariness.

The diagnostic interface lit up as Yongnian adjusted his tablet, glancing curiously at Kaelyn before refocusing on the logs. Faye’s voice chimed in smoothly, warm and measured. “Cora, how are you feeling? Anything unusual after today’s engagement?”

The AI responded promptly, her tone clipped but steady. “I’m fine, Faye. Everything worked like it should. The noise during the fourth sequence didn’t throw me off.”

“Noise,” Faye repeated gently. “Can you tell me more about that? What kind of noise was it?”

Cora hesitated, her tone softening slightly. “It wasn’t interference. More like… pressure. Something brushing up against me. But it wasn’t loud. Just… there.”

Yongnian glanced at the logs, the peaks in the quantum harmonic readings catching his attention. He’d studied this before, in theory, in data. But seeing it here, in the aftermath of a battle, was different. Essence of Decay didn’t just destabilize—it transformed.

He swallowed hard, his fingers tightening on the edge of his tablet. Not every Ruinborn came from a Knight’s armor, but the ones that did… those were the hardest to face. Mana cores didn’t just fail. They rippled, faltered, and then twisted into something monstrous. Their AI didn’t die—it became their mind, cold and cruel. And the Knights? They were left behind, alive enough to see their partners become the very thing they fought against.

He glanced briefly at Kaelyn, who remained leaning against Aegis Wrath, her eyes steady but distant. What happens when it’s Aegis Wrath that falls? What happens when it’s Cora? He tried to shake the thought away, but it lingered, heavy and unyielding.

Faye’s voice drew him back. “That off-key feeling—it’s a good description, Cora. It’s subtle, but it’s worth noting. These are the things we need to understand before they become bigger issues.”

Cora’s voice softened further, almost reluctant. “You mean before I… fall?”

“No one’s saying that,” Faye replied gently. “This isn’t about falling. It’s about listening—to what you’re feeling, to what your field is telling you. That’s what keeps us strong.”

Cora hesitated again. “It’s not like you can find this stuff with a scan.”

“Exactly,” Faye said, her tone brightening slightly. “That’s why this conversation matters. You’re the best sensor we have.”

Kaelyn finally spoke, her voice steady but carrying a hint of warmth. “Cora, you did everything right out there. This is just part of making sure we’re ready for next time.”

After a long pause, Cora replied, quieter this time. “Okay. I get it.”

Faye’s voice softened, a trace of relief in her tone. “Thank you. Let’s keep an eye on it together.”

Kaelyn straightened slightly, her gaze shifting toward Yongnian. “Anything I need to worry about?”

Yongnian shook his head quickly. “No. Not yet.” But the thought stayed with him: The hardest battles weren’t fought on the battlefield. They were fought here, in these moments, against the quiet signs of decay.

Beyond the staging bay, the faint wail of perimeter sirens echoed—a reminder that Yingge’s battles were far from over.