Thunder cracked the clouds as the sounds of gunfire and ignited flames lit the night sky. Shadows of behemoth steel marched across Vnerman and its capital, August. "Run for it brothers!" Princess Silvia cried out, while she and her brothers ran across the halls of the palace. The invasion of Andorra had begun, and death was everywhere. Muskets clashed with steel rifles whilst the thousands of imperial guards defended the palace with their lives, against millions of Andorran Neosteel Combat Units. Robotic machines designed for battle and war. A cold, immortal army of steel.
"Hold the lines, men! To the end of your lives!!!" A Vnerman guard captain exclaimed as he was gunned down by the hundreds of Neosteel Combat Units before him, along with his men who perished alongside him just the same. Futility. Albeit with some form of bravery. Yet, nonetheless fruitless, utterly useless.
"Fix bayonets!!!" Another Vnerman guard captain exclaimed at the top of her lungs as she watched the Vnerman royalty flee from behind her. She smirked before facing the enemy of her nation. "For Vnerman...! For freedom united, we fight on!!!" She and her guards charged headlong into the fray, against cold metal they fought. In blood and oil, blade and claw. The palace crumbled and the skies burned, the fires spread, then lives lost. The imperial thrones laid empty, broken, and utterly shattered.
"We hold these lines, men! For in honor and in death, we'll die like legends!!!" A Vnerman guard captain proclaimed with immense fervor as he took on the many many hundreds of Neosteel Combat Units before him, alongside his men who perished alongside him just the same. And in mere seconds, they were shredded into a billion billion pieces, alike to sheets of paper. Futility, albeit with some form of bravery.
"Fix bayonets!!!" Another Vnerman guard captain exclaimed at the top of her lungs as she watched the Vnerman royalty flee from behind her. She smirked before facing the enemy of her nation. "For Vnerman...! For freedom united! We fight on...!!!" She and her guards charged headlong into the fray, against cold metal they fought. In blood and oil. Blade and claw. The palace crumbled and the skies burned, the fires spread as lives were lost. The imperial thrones laid silent, broken, and void. With no emperor nor empress to lead.
Silvia and her brothers ran across the halls, up and down every flight of stairs seemingly without direction until they reached an open rooftop, where a Neosteel Titan emerged from the dust of flames. The sheer size of it dwarfed the entire palace altogether, not even making half of its size. The titan raised its hand like casting judgment upon the wicked, and with a single motion, it struck the palace from above, sending waves of rubble across the blackened skies. However, it had missed its mark.
Having missed its targets, the massive Andorran NS-Titan, with its bulky frame, rammed itself into the palace, killing everyone inside. But yet again, the young Vnerman royalty were saved from certain death, as dashing golden imperial knights took them from the titan's path and leaped onto the empty ruined courtyard below with blinding speed. "My lords and lady, are you all well...?" A member of the golden imperial knights questioned the rescued Vnerman royalty as he respectfully examined them for any unforeseen injuries. "...Thankfully not, sir knight. Yet, I thank you nonetheless..." Ashton implied. Gradually lowering himself from the arms of his savior and onto the ground while his siblings did the same, all until they were all standing on the tiled floor of the courtyard.
"Madness..." A golden imperial knight muttered to herself and watched while the Andorran NS-Titan veered its head and body to face them. The remnants of the palace crumbled beneath the towering silhouette of steel and metal, the mere height of it reached even the lowest of clouds. However, this was merely one among many, as hundreds upon hundreds more Andorran Neosteel Titans rained from beyond the blackened skies above the palace, and the imperial city itself. "By all that is holy..."
Without even so much as another moment's pause, all four of the Vnerman royalty were hoisted like luggage by their respective golden imperial knights. The two dozen golden imperial knights ran for their lives, past the once mighty walls of the royal palace which continued to crumble beneath the raging fires which portrayed an eerie silhouette of its Andorran destroyers and conquerers slowly turning to face the fleeing Vnerman group.
The two dozen golden imperial knights ran through the infernal wasteland that was August, as the millions of Andorran Neosteel Combat Units across the city sent hails of gunfire their way. Meanwhile, billions of bullets whirled past the fields of ash, dust, and rubble, causing a blinding flash of light to obscure the visions of the fleeing Vnerman knights and royalty who passed the fires and death that surrounded them. Yet no matter how many roads they roamed or bridges they crossed, the hordes of cold metal seemed but endless in the wake of the capital's destruction.
And after miles of tireless fleeing, the group finally came upon a sanctuary, albeit temporary at best. There, at the edge of the dark forest, thousands of refugees watched as their beloved homes burned beneath their invaders' might, where their once humble lives as Vnerman citizens were reduced to a chaotic sea of fire upon their very eyes, all helpless before the Andorran Neosteel might. Men, women, and children, both young and the elderly, wept and mourned in their own way. Some in silence, while others cried out in utter despair. However, no matter how many times they wept or mourned, their cries of anguish fell only upon those who met the same fate, as the invaders continued to ravage the lands the Vnerman people called their home.
After a few moments of recollection, Prince Leighton gazed upon his home helplessly in silence. Just as his older brothers and sister gathered behind him to bear witness to the demise of the capital and those unfortunate enough to remain within it. "...Do you think that we'll ever get a chance to rebuild?" Charles asked coldly. Yet, with a hint of solemn silence in his voice, he shed a tear. "Not in a hundred years brother..." Ashton answered. His tone more pitiful than Charles who forced himself to hold back his despair. "I find that just as painful..." Charles replied, and took a moment to whimper to himself to relieve his silent misery.
"...What do we do now?" The young Prince Leighton asked his older sister Silvia, who merely embraced him in silence as they all remained in place, towards the lands that were no longer their own. "...We rebuild, regroup, and fight on." Silvia answered firmly, as everyone around the edge of the dark forest gathered behind her shadow, her voice stirring their very souls. But for a moment Silvia paused, her eyes gazing upon the atrocities committed by the metallic machines that wrought destruction upon their empire, then she spoke. "Until the end, and until the very day we die, we will survive."
Meanwhile, on the Andorran front to the western shores of Liondel, the Andorran fleets that had set to conquer Hell were utterly devastated. Aircraft carriers completely sunk, destroyers and cruisers reduced to battered vessels, while silent frigates were laid bare, at the bottom of the western ocean. Although, one vessel remained amongst the fallen. The Andorran Neosteel Neo-Subcarrier. A submarine-carrier hybrid. Designed to deploy the Andorran Kingdom's latest experimental veteran units, the Aeronexus, Hydronexus, Pyronexus, Cryonexus, Dendronexus, Bionexus, Geonexus, Electronexus, Umbranexus, Photonexus, Necronexus, and Chrononexus Units, which are all a part of the Andorran Experimental Bio Corps.
This eight-thousand-eight-hundred-foot-long, two-thousand-two-hundred-foot-wide, and eight-hundred-eighty-foot-tall black submarine-carrier hybrid made out of pure Neosteel boasts a wide array of anti-air, anti-ship, and all-purpose weaponry upon its very vessel. Armed with the latest technology, the Neo-Subcarrier is a grand sovereign within the sea. Uncontested only by those below it.
"Damage report..." A man in a full black jumpsuit and full black uniform spoke to his officers, his tone distorted by the black mask that altered his voice and covered his face, whilst he sat within the bridge of his Neosteel Neo-Subcarrier called the Opposer. "Sir, all major functions are operating smoothly. Damages to the hull remain minimal... Overall, the Opposer remains at full operational capacity." The Opposer's operational officer replied. "Acknowledged, resume long-range bombardments... All hands to stations, launch cruise missiles one to twenty, reduce these shores to fire, begin amphibious operations..." The man commanded.
"Copy, supreme admiral...!" The operational officer replied once more and began to carry out the man's order, as the entire Neo-Subcarrier went abuzz with naval officers who ran amok to their stations. Missile pods sprung to life as their hatches unlocked and opened to reveal their extremely deadly payload, of thousands upon thousands of AHIIMs. Advanced Hyper-Kinetic Intercontinental Incendiary Missiles. All armed with a warhead capable of exerting a blast from a million to a hundred billion megajoules of force all in a specified target area, with or without containment, within or without an enclosed space.
"...Launching AHIIMs!" The Opposer's weapons systems operator exclaimed, just as thousands of AHIIMs launched from their pods and into the skies at rapid speeds, far faster than any vehicle ever constructed. "Affirmative." The Opposer's targeting operator said in response, before taking a targeting monitor from her desk and marking multiple points of impact for the AHIIMs to target.
"Arming incendiary warheads. Priming in ten seconds. Impact in twenty... All systems, green. No hostiles in sight, Supreme Admiral V'netchal." The targeting operator added. While the man, now known as Supreme Admiral V'netchal, sat back on his seat and watched on whilst the AHIIMs quickly landed their marks with precision and deadly force, as the very shores of the continent burned bright before his Neo-Subcarrier.
"Sir! All missiles confirmed hit! What are your orders...?" Asked the targeting operator, as she looked back at her commanding officer, who merely waved his hand in response. All the while he remained motionless for a minute, before nodding in silence. "...Affirmative, supreme admiral! Launching Aeronexus Units!" Both the Opposer's weapons systems and deployment officers exclaimed in unison, before they proceeded to initiate the Opposer's Aeronexus deployment sequence from the monitors of their desks. "Aeronexus Units four, five, and ten, launching in... Three... Two... One... Launch!"
Multiple pods shot through the skies as they left the Neosteel Neo-Subcarrier. The sounds of their release akin to artillery fire, and their trail alike to falling stars. "...All assigned Aeronexus Units successfully deployed, sir. Mission is-a-go!" The Opposer's operations officer reported, watching as the trails of blue grew evermore distant as a spec, before they all disappeared entirely.
Two hours later, deep within the western region of Liondel, the pods numbered four, five, and ten were safely secured onto the dark swamp lands that were dimly lit with fireflies. Three Andorran Aeronexus Units, dressed in darker shades of blue, awakened from their pods. And upon release, the silence of the wet and muddy landscape immediately instilled an eerie strain upon them, accompanied by eyes that lurked in the shadows that crept beyond their reach. They were alone.
"...Command, this is Aeronexus Unit Delta, infiltration confirmed accomplished. Initiating recon operations... Over." The lead Aeronexus Unit spoke into her radio. Her tinted velvet and blue visors shining amidst the darkness of the moonlight, all the while she pulled herself out from her pod as her comrades did the same and checked their surroundings.
"Echelon-Five, Joan-Ten, group up and form an element. With me!" Delta commanded as she and the other two Aeronexus Units gathered beside a tree. Feet deep in mud. "Right with you ma'am...!" Echelon-Five exclaimed as he and Joan stood closer to Delta, all of them armed with standard Neosteel Electromagnetic Rifles. Or NS-ERs. State-of-the-art Andorran weaponry specifically designed for prolonged combat in extreme terrains and hostile environments. "Echelon, Joan, listen up. We've got orders from the supreme admiral, central command has provided us with orders to infiltrate and eliminate all hostile forces within the area. Lethal force is authorized. All methods of engagement and elimination are permitted... Our targets will be the Vnerman Cryomoltan ports of Winterhell, Iceden, and Frostpeak. For they pose a significant threat to the overall operational stability as well as the prevalent success of our mission. Any questions?"
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Echelon and Joan shook their heads in response as they stood idly by. "Good." Delta remarked and smirked beneath her helmet. "Let's get moving, we've got a job to do." Delta and her team proceeded through the thick mud and watery landscape as they passed one firefly after another as they strode across wood and dirt.
Not before long, the trio immediately came under fire by Vnerman marksmen, armed with standard-issue Vnerman longbows. The trio quickly hid behind the tough barks of the trees that were nearest to them, as arrows as long as five feet made entirely out of iron and gold whizzed past their cover and shattered other less fortunate trees that were weaker, thinner, and likely hollowed. But these weren't your standard Vnerman marksmen however, these were all veterans of the past. Old, but still in their prime. "...Shit! Vnerman Oldguard!" Echelon exclaimed, before taking a hit to the chest and instantly passing out.
The Vnerman Oldguard, literally as old as they are with their weapons, wore a distinct golden armored attire that stood out from the dark green environment of the swamp. And despite their age, they were swift as well as agile, and were as fast as the winter breeze during the night of the full moon.
The Vnerman Oldguard darted around like a class of acrobats, leaping from one tree branch to another, as they easily avoided the rapid hails of gunfire from the Andorran Aeronexus Units who sent a barrage of flaming bullets their way in turn. But even then the superior speed, maneuverability, range, accuracy, and overall skill of the Oldguard were simply overwhelming for the Aeronexus Units who hid behind the barks of their trees. Especially if the Oldguard were to use far more advanced forms of magic.
Delta weaved through the trees and into the incoming barrage of arrows all laced with poison mana. Crisscrossing past raging waters that boiled with unstable concoctions filled with the poisons that infected them like acid rainfall, from the dozens of Oldguard that soon numbered in the hundreds. Regardless, Delta remained firm in her position all the same, at the very forefront of combat.
Yet despite all the technological capabilities modified into her, Delta came face to face with an opponent she could not match. And with a swift and immediate fist to the face, Delta came crashing down face-first into the mud, before silence filled the air once again. Two Andorran Aeronexus Units down, one left to go. The Vnerman Oldguard swiftly gave chase to Joan-Ten, who ran deeper into the swamp rather than retreat back to the Neosteel Subcarrier for reinforcements. This gave off a sense of slight confusion to his Vnerman pursuers, who were momentarily stunned by his lack of anxiety, hesitation, or tension, but nonetheless pursued him through the mud and water. Where the Oldguard once had the advantage, the lone Joan-Ten had the speed and modifications needed to escape their pursuit. The abilities of free flight and prolonged gravity control.
Splashing footsteps sounded across the swamp as Joan increased his speed and ran fast like lightning whilst leaving almost next to no evidence of his trail for the Oldguard that searched for him relentlessly throughout the vastness of the region, a testament to their dedication and skill in search of the interloper that was Joan.
The Vnerman Oldguard searched high and low for him, their numbers only increasing within the hour as the sun slowly rose from the horizon. Then, he climbed. With both his hands and his feet, Joan steadily latched himself onto the hard surface of a nearby cliff and began pulling himself to the top, carefully navigating through the rigid terrain that endangered both his life and the secrecy of his presence. Either of which were of major priority to him and his survival. Although, when he reached the top, Joan was greeted by a metallic entity, though it was not Andorran. But before he could even react, the trigger was pulled, and the barrel that had been between his head ignited. The bullet that came pierced through Joan's visors as it entered into his frontal lobe, piercing right throughout his brain, and then out the other side of his cerebellum. So thus he fell, back down below. With an empty conscience, a dying heart, and a fractured skull.
And as the chaos engulfed the far west, armies amassed at the center of the southeast, where a more mature princess dressed in mixed white and blue gazed to the west while her diamond-like eyes reflected what lights came from the darkness beyond. The harsh, relentless, and cold winds blowing away at her golden hair as she stood idle amidst vile and decrepit ruins that housed yet another artifact of power. One that would reshape at will and all of Sythria. One that rivaled even gods.
Alyssia was this princess's name. Her faith in hope and heroes outshined even preachers of the divine, a typical fantasy damsel in distress. Princess Alyssia's feats were not in the least simple maidenly duties, with her many accomplishments in foreign diplomacy all the more valuable, as it had kept the peace for the past half-decade or so from such a young age in her early teens. Not only was she responsible for the delicate balance of power, but she was also the cause of it, and the cause for the lasting peace until now. Once hailing from the proud and free Lyssian Kingdom, now laid annexed beneath the banner of the Andorran Kingdom.
"Princess..." A Lyssian guard said. His eyes closed as he bowed, with his hands firmly to his sides. "...The winds are rather unkind today. I recommend that you find shelter in the command tent, you might want to see this." The Lyssian guard bowed once again before leaving abruptly, allowing the princess to silently ponder to herself whilst she proceeded to scan the horizon of darkness and distant light. She almost could've sworn that the lands were on fire, accompanied by the dark silhouettes of titanic entities that roamed from afar, and the echoes of distorted noises that followed in their destructive wakes.
Alyssia then turned and went to the command tent situated at the center of a Lyssian campsite located within a crater that was as wide as half a mile in circumference and as deep as a quarter of its width, with the light of the sun bearing down upon her as she descended to the campsite. "Princess!" A former Lyssian noble exclaimed. It was one of the Andorran nobility that had attended Ethos's court two days ago, during his relatively abrupt and dire declaration to war. Specifically Jerald, the one who was dragged away.
"Thank goodness you're safe..." Princess Alyssia said with a gentle smile, approaching the former general before she stood before him at the foot of a gigantic ruin. "I didn't know what the king would do to you if you were left in there. I'm just glad you're okay, Jerald." Jerald beamed slightly at Alyssia's kind words, but quickly took on a more serious and professional demeanor as he reported his most recent findings.
"I thank you for your concerns princess, if it were not for your kind majesty that granted my early release, I may have been blessed by that psychiatrist that the young king must have provided. Yet, we have more pressing matters to attend to as of this moment..." Jerald paused and straightened his back, before resuming his intended statement. "Princess, if I may begin..." Jerald began. "According to the murals we found carved onto the walls of the tunnel systems, just below us lies a dormant heroic weapon. Some sort of being or titan is sealed here, although a mere quarter of the size that the Neosteel Titans possess. Yet big enough nonetheless."
"And how do you suppose you know what these titans are, Jerald? Care to tell?" Alyssia prodded. Her gaze somewhat reluctant upon the former general, but understanding all the same. "Did you already forget? I was among his majesty's top generals! I may have sworn loyalty to him, but it was never absolute..." Jerald replied to the princess, and before long, they entered the command tent before them. "Quite the jester, aren't you general?" The Lyssian princess chuckled and smiled, her entrance within the interiors of the Lyssian headquarters graceful and pure, as Lyssian officers gave way and bowed before her grace and kind majesty. "...All hail!"
The Lyssian officers present stood upright and gave their salutes to the Lyssian royal, who gave a gentle nod of acknowledgment before they returned to their duties. And hall after hall, the duo steadily approached the very center of the command tent, where many dozens of Lyssian officers gave their respects as they passed by. But once they arrived, a hundred Lyssian high-ranking commanders greeted them instead, within the confines of an enclosed compartment of wood and bark. "All hail the princess...! All hail! All hail!" The commanders said in unison, bowing to Alyssia whilst she strode by, before taking their seats around an oval table at the center of the room. All the while the candles that hung above them flickered and waned, amidst the chill air that stood still and even.
And once Princess Alyssia was seated, the former general began the Lyssian meeting that had been delayed by the princess's prior absence whilst unfolding a detailed map of the entire Vnerman domain and its surrounding regions as he did so. "...As I formally announce the beginning of this session, I would first like to congratulate all of you brave men and women of the Lyssian Freedom Army. And to your remarkable and proud service to our people, we now stand at the precipice of our shared goals... The very pinnacle of our salvation near at hand... And so, I bring to you the fruits of our labor..."
Jerald then took a moment to assemble a myriad of figurines from the cabinet beneath him before immediately organizing such pieces throughout the sectors of the Vnerman map. Above marked footholds, bases, and campsites, all belonging to the Lyssian Freedom Army. From mounted riders to small militia, these freedom fighters numbered in the tens of thousands. "From here on out, we shall once again unite under one banner! Not of Andorra or the Vnerman Empire, but of the Lyssian Kingdom! Today we stand united...! Today we take back our homes!!! For we are the heirs of fate, so will the future bend to our destiny...!!!" All the Lyssian commanders present cheered and applauded to Jerald's impassionate speech as they stood once again in attention, whilst the Lyssian princess simply observed the joyous festivities that occurred all around her, with a smile that radiated humility and pride. Humility in her role as the leader, and pride in her people.
But as the meeting proceeded and the revelries died down, unbeknownst to those within this camp, a single Neosteel Titan approached. This one being thinner in both size and mass. An advanced prototype that King Ethos had recently deployed to Vnerman. And with it came its vast legions of steel, the Neosteel Combat Units.
Three hours earlier, on the distant southern territories of the Vnerman Empire, within the fortified territories of the Al'zsinœlt Renãen Dukedom, Duke Al'zsinœlt Renãe himself stood atop the walls of his tenth city Y'ddénnea. Named after the Goddess Y'ddénnea, a goddess of the element of nature. Dressed in a green attire, with green eyes and white hair, Duke Al'zsinœlt gazed to the north, where thousands upon thousands of Neosteel Titans wrought devastation upon the southern territories governed by the empire.
And again, for the past three days, it was all the same. Seas of fire stretching for miles and miles on end, blackened skies, millions of deaths, and the usual dark clouds that came along with them. "...What a disappointment..." Al'zsinœlt thought to himself. "All this and for what?" He added, his sigh as silent as a whisper, alike to the absence of empathy and a lack for humanity in his decade-long rule as a duke, as well as his status of being a young adult in his early twenties. "Not impressed my lord?" A Y'ddénnean guard asked the young duke as he approached from behind. "...Indeed not, captain." Al'zsinœlt replied, not even bothering to turn around as he continued his watch over the now desolate realms before him, while also minding the actions of the foreign invaders that plagued the lands with death and destruction.
"I see..." The captain replied and stood by the duke, who kept his eyes locked onto the horizon amidst the bellowing winds that swept over his dominion. "Then how long 'till we receive word from the capital?" The captain added. "Not long..." Al'zsinœlt answered. "The admiralty should be here soon. The imperial military may have been decimated, but the navy is not." Al'zsinœlt paused for a brief moment before adding to his statement. "They should be returning from Azure in a matter of days to enforce imperial command. However, I do somewhat expect them to discover their new circumstances to be rather... Dreadful. To a degree that would curb their understanding of the calamity's significance."
However, before the Duke could even utter another word, a pillar of light shot through the skies and pierced the clouds from the horizon. The immense shockwave that came after immediately blew away the captain who stood beside him. The pressure that followed was so powerful that he could physically see some sort of knightly mirage straight out of a fairytale, so much so that his knees gave out the moment the winds calmed. Although now, as Al'zsinœlt struggled to regain his footing, he was met with a sight that he would never forget. Despite being hundreds of miles away, he could clearly see this divine being as if they were face to face. An entity so powerful, reality trembled in fear. A knight in shining armor, armed with a holy sword. The Hero of Knights.