"I'm going there..." I direct the tip of "Word" towards the center of the parking lot, concealed in the fog, where the methodical sound of gunfire resonates.
"I'm with you!" The Greek immediately responds, splitting the remains of the last android into two unequal halves with a powerful swing of his dadao.
"I won't stay here alone!" The Slav joins in, making his intentions quite clear.
I understand their motives; they're not following me due to some overwhelming charisma on my part, but because they feel less terrified with me than without me, even at the heart of the fog. And I need them because, without their swords, I can't even dream of tackling something as massive as a heavy walking combat platform. Unlike its smaller "siblings," its joints are thoroughly shielded!
Unexpectedly, after leaping three times and covering around a hundred meters, I abruptly emerged from the fog onto a patch clear of this dense veil, spanning just fifty steps in diameter. In the center of this mist-free zone, a humanoid robot, looking incredibly large from such close range, was rotating around a waist joint and spraying the foggy wall with its two shoulder-mounted cannons. At its feet, there was a dense ring of MAs of the first and second modifications, now familiar to me. There were nine in total, appearing small compared to the giant. My sudden arrival immediately caught their attention. The guards regrouped, leaving seven at the feet of the heavy platform, while two, activating their accelerators, charged towards me.
Honestly, when I spotted the nine, I was already about to turn and run, but these machines, created for the sake of ratings and anime popularity, turned out to be much less intelligent than one would expect. Why did they divide their forces? Why only send two after me? They should be networked, with the HWCP acting as their server, and they should have information that I can manage three androids simultaneously! So why the idiocy? Ah, that's why. Making a sharp turn, the giant began to aim its cannons at me. But then my partners arrived in time, and I instantly hopped behind them, using the raigs as a shield.
"We stand here. We don't move forward. Just block its firing line with your armor. I'll handle the small fry!" I quickly issue orders before this pair can act independently...
Two MAs, evading the tracer shots from their leader, attempted to assault our group "from the back" - precisely where I was stationed. Honestly, I was so fed up with being astounded at the profound stupidity of these "miraculous machines" that I simply silently and systematically severed all their joints and left them lying on the pavement.
"Now, we are slowly moving forward and luring them out."
I was fortunate with my team. Neither the first nor the second compelled companion had any inclination to seize the initiative. They were told to stand and shield me from shells, and they complied without any heroic attempts to run off and engage the enemy on their own. Now, having received their instructions, they moved their shoulders closer together and advanced deliberately towards the combat platform. After five steps, they halted.
"Two more," I heard from under the Greek's helmet.
Given his energy reserves and initial reaction, this is likely his first Breakthrough, excluding the one during which he was initiated. Yet, he handled it well and kept his panic under control. Now his voice was steady, as if forty-millimeter shells weren't hammering his breastplate at a frequency of two hits per second. In reality, even if he wore superior armor, these shots would have knocked him to the ground long ago, rolling him around like a ridiculous toy on the asphalt. But the Break has its own rules, and he stood calmly under the barrage, his chest cuirass trembling slightly upon impact.
Encountering another pair of MAs, I made a mental note to find out the names of the "Steel Wave" scriptwriters and send them a giant cake for creating such dim-witted pieces of metal that kept making the same mistakes over and over again.
While dealing with the two androids, I became a bit carried away and took a couple of shells in the back. This, however, was quite acceptable, as it was nearly impossible to fight even these dumb but still somewhat agile adversaries while continuously hiding behind the armored Knights.
Having completed my assault, I took cover behind the raigs again, and we resumed our slow, measured advance in our peculiar trio. But after five steps, observing a change in the robots' behavior, I halted our progress. The heavy platform turned fully towards us. The barrels of its cannons dropped. Either it had run out of ammunition, or it had finally realized that firing at armored raigs was a futile endeavor. So, instead of continuing the barrage, the platform extended its gigantic two-handed weapon, as long as its own height, in our direction. The remaining MA guards positioned themselves on the flanks.
The platform itself didn't concern me greatly. Unlike the smaller models, it lacked the most crucial attributes - speed and maneuverability. In the anime, children in super armor, facing such an opponent, were forced to struggle and overcome according to the script's dictates. But for the raigs, a heavy platform was even less of a threat than a single MA. Yes, destroying such a large and protected mechanical creature would not be easy, but to fall victim to its monstrous sword, having the speed of a projection, one would have to be even more foolish than these robots. The main challenge of the upcoming battle was the five standard androids. I could handle three. I believe I could also manage four at once, now that I've understood their tactics. But against five, plus the factor of the heavy platform? That's a gamble. Should we retreat? Then I saw another black column rise into the sky. The sixth death...
"The small ones are on me. The giant is yours," I say, placing my hands on the raigs' shoulders, infusing my voice with as much confidence as possible. "Don't fight in the air. You're deprived of maneuverability there. Always try to have solid ground under your feet so that you can change your movement trajectory. If the smaller ones attack you, don't engage — draw them to me. And yes... if any of you manage to get yourselves under its sword, I'll be highly disappointed."
"Let's cut off its legs and then its head!" I hear an excess of bravado in the Slav's voice, but he seems to have understood everything correctly.
"Let's go!" I command, simultaneously springing out from behind the Knights' backs.
My leap is merely a feint aimed at the platform. I can't inflict any significant damage on it with my light weapons, but I don't intend to. My goal is to draw the guards towards me, and my ruse is successful to that end.
Five mechanical entities tried to intercept me mid-flight, sparking such chaos that I had no time for strategic maneuvers. I bet on the platform's sluggishness, akin to the anime's portrayal of HWCP, and my gamble paid off. Several times, the giant tried to reach me with broad swings of its enormous power sword. But each time, it ended up disrupting the other MAs, scattering them, as a hit from its attack would instantly annihilate any impacted android.
Attacks rained in from all directions so quickly that I barely had time for even the simplest counterattacks. All I could do was use the combat platform as a shield, circle around it, and prevent the androids from surrounding me. I didn't even have time to see how the Greek and the Slav were faring. Were they still alive? Were they coping? All of my attention was utterly consumed by the battle against five agile and deadly machines. It seemed that I had overestimated my abilities and was losing this duel. No, the MAs had not grown smarter — they kept making the same mistakes. But with five of them, I simply didn't have enough time to exploit their missteps. Each time, instead of launching an attack, I had to break off and retreat, fearful of being struck from behind, the side, above, or below. I pushed myself to the limit, far surpassing the records I had set during hangar training, but even that was insufficient to tip the balance in my favor. The best I could do was gradually lure the guards away from the platform, trusting that my involuntary teammates would handle their task. Given their capabilities, dealing with such a slow adversary should be straightforward. Even if this foe was armored like a battleship, weighed tens of tons, and towered six meters tall — all these advantages paled against the fact that the raigs were far quicker and more maneuverable, armed with weapons capable of penetrating its armor.
"I predict they'll eventually surround me and finish me off," I thought as the fight progressed. However, a deafening roar sounded behind me about a minute into our assault — a minute that felt like an hour to me. My comrades had triumphed: the Slav had made good on his promise and decapitated the HWCP! Instantly, the remaining androids froze. Chains of lightning darted across their metal bodies, then they evaporated as if they'd never existed. The fog receded in their wake.
Indeed, my intuition hadn't misled me. To halt the Breakthrough, we had to destroy the combat platform, the controller of the rest of the androids!
Was that really it?
I survey the scene.
Now that the fog has lifted, the hypermarket parking lot is clearly visible. My partners and I are near the center, with the other raigs — forty-two in total — scattered in small groups around the perimeter. The Break Knights have taken a substantial beating. No, on the surface, everything seems fine: their armor gleams, their weapons sparkle, but almost all of them have depleted at least three-quarters of their energy reserves! Had we not decided to breach the fog at the sound of gunfire, the battle would've persisted for at least another five minutes. Based on the remaining prana of most raigs, the number of black columns would already have reached the dozens by now.
I scan the raig silhouettes, and upon recognizing the familiar dark armor, I breathe a sigh of relief. Had Maya perished, I would likely have blamed myself for not joining their squad. Speaking of which, their small team, led by Max, looks considerably better off than the rest. They're the only ones who managed to conserve over half their prana during this battle.
No more than ten seconds passed after the combat platform's overthrow and the fog's disappearance before the Break began to shudder and vibrate, producing a peculiar melody. This was not something you could hear with your ears, but rather something you could perceive with every particle of your projection.
Following the initial measure of this "music," three ghostly columns of copper light descended from the sky. The first enveloped Max, the second settled upon Maya, and the third found an unknown raig on the opposite end of the parking lot. The Break's vibrations intensified, and after the copper columns, two bronze columns of spectral light landed on the shoulders of my companions. The music ebbed slightly, assuming a solemn tone, akin to a martial anthem. Finally, a golden beam materialized in the sky, descending directly onto me, bathing me in otherworldly warmth. This beam was so comforting that I closed my eyes, basking in the rejuvenating energy.
After fully absorbing the golden light, I opened my eyes to see all the Raigs raising their weapons in salute to me. Then the world contracted to a point, and I awoke in my bed.
The transition was so sudden that initially, I didn't comprehend I was back in reality. Sitting up in bed, I shook my head. No, it was certainly not a dream.
I had previously dismissed the golden ghostly columns as nothing more than myths and fairy tales. I needed to see what the Break had bestowed upon me; if notable bonuses came with silver, what could I expect from being singled out with gold? With that thought, I transitioned into the shadow world.
A Break Knight can only level up by participating in the suppression of Breakthroughs. The first level is initiation. The second requires involvement in two Breakthroughs. To reach the third, you need to engage in another three, and so on. Thus, there are no ranks higher than the third in the world currently because achieving the fourth requires a Knight to partake in ten such battles in total! With each level, a raig expands his prana reserve approximately one and a half times and acquires some additional abilities. These skills may be general, like sliding, or individual, unique to each of us. But these individual perks can be attained not only through leveling up. After each Breakthrough, the Break honors particularly distinguished Knights. Copper light signifies the gift of a regular additional ability, bronze connotes a rare one, silver a unique one, and gold — which until now was only spoken of in whispers, unseen by any — represents the legendary.
The gift I received indeed warranted a golden hue. My individual abilities now included skills reminiscent of the Jedi from the "Galaxy Far, Far Away," as portrayed by my ghostly image! And my first perk was "Sword Throw"! I could now hurl my sword at a target, exert partial control over its flight, and then, with a mental command, recall it to my hand! It was a slight disappointment that this ability applied only to "Word" and not to "Purity," but even this limitation did little to dampen my excitement. It would have been extraordinary if I could direct wakizashi on a semi-controlled flight. But this isn't a computer game where you can pick and choose your abilities; here, you receive what the Break deigns to bestow. There are no options offered.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
I decided to test out the new skill right here in my apartment. Granted, it was a bit smaller than I would have liked for a training range, but I was simply too eager to try out the ability.
In the Star Wars movie saga and the books based on it, Sword Throw was used by both Sith and Jedi alike, characters such as Darth Vader and Master Yoda. From what I gathered from the film, the optimum technique involved a throw with strong rotation, which sent the blade flying towards the target, similar to a helicopter blade spiraling off the propellers, slicing through everything in its path. Regrettably, to test this rotating technique, a far larger space was needed than my apartment could provide, so I restricted myself to straightforward throws.
The training absorbed me so completely that I only stopped when my energy reserve ran out, hence ending my sustained presence in the Break. There was much to practice, as "Throw" was not governed by mental commands. After launching the sword, I continued to feel its handle in my palm. This sensation was the foundation of blade control during flight. The intuition of what to do and how was clear, but the initial throws revealed that mastering this ability fully would require not merely hours or days, but weeks of rigorous training if I wished to do more than simply hurl "Word" at the target and instantly recall it. In theory, I could fling the sword around corners, send it on a circular flight, and trace eights and other shapes, but I was still a long way from such proficiency.
After entertaining myself with the newly acquired skill, I exited the Break when it was nearly four in the morning. I didn't feel sleepy in the slightest, and my mind was cluttered with thoughts and memories of the Breakthrough, which I had attempted to suppress through training, albeit without success.
Frankly, I had expected almost anything. I was prepared to encounter any monsters and beasts in my first Breakthrough, but clashing with anime robots was beyond that preparedness. It made no sense! Yet, I knew for certain that it wasn't a dream. I had battled those damn androids from the animated series, and those spectral black columns weren't a figment of my imagination, either. Speaking of the columns, it's clear that the enemy was too formidable for untrained Knights. The benefits of projection, such as speed, security, and mobility, were essentially nullified as the androids were not lacking in these aspects. That only six people perished is rather a miracle, largely attributed to the remarkable armor of the raigs. However, if more than ten percent of the Knights die in each Breakthrough, then this is an outright disaster! I'm confident that BKDW keeps loss statistics, but for some reason, they haven't made it public. I would be very interested in examining it...
Perhaps this Breakthrough was an anomaly, a transgression of all boundaries. Or was it, instead, the standard? Not a soul had ever put pen to paper about what they encountered during a Breakthrough. Even the champions of free information from the "Masks of Novilter" remain mum on the subject, as if bound by some unspoken taboo. Yes, there is an abundance of data about Breakthroughs, but not a single shred of it comes from a reputable source, and I have long since stopped trusting what anonymous people post online.
Darn it! What exactly is this Breakthrough if cartoon monsters are emerging from it? And what about the "Bremen Slime"? It's certainly not from cartoons. It seems... Neither Izao nor I had ever consumed all the animation of this world — it would be an impossible task, life simply isn't long enough. However, the notion that the Breakthrough somehow brings the creations of animation studios to life seemed far-fetched and somewhat ludicrous to me.
But the "monsters" from the Breakthrough weren't just coincidentally akin to a popular anime. The badges and colors of the MA were an exact match to those in the series. This compelling evidence supports the mad idea that, regardless of its lunacy, the Break appears to actualize this specific human fantasy, including even the absurdities woven into the robots by the scriptwriters.
Fantasies...
Somehow that word resonated with me.
It held something, a strand perhaps, that was undoubtedly worth tugging at.
The only somewhat documented Breakthrough is the one in Bremen. I've read a lot about it, but now I need to review all of it again, assessing the known facts from a different angle. After booting up my computer, I went online. I wasn't interested in the official information — I already knew that — I was seeking opinions and comments, even the most outrageous ones. Yes, I comprehend that there are millions of such comments, but I believe I can skim through the most popular ones. It might take more than a day, but still...
I didn't find an answer, only hints that sent shivers down my spine. One blogger wrote that the Bremen slime reminded him of the expansion of the Zirg faction on the map from a computer strategy game popular a few years ago. I downloaded the game and, after completing a few missions for the Zirg faction — which is somewhat reminiscent of the zerg from StarCraft — I found myself agreeing with the blogger's viewpoint. Sure, the outward appearance of the "Bremen Horror" differed. In the game, the slime was green, while what emerged from the Breakthrough was more of a black and brown, but otherwise, it was nearly an identical match. Other related threads suggested the Bremen slime echoed plots from science fiction books. Just yesterday, after reading all these conjectures, I wouldn't have even given a derisive laugh — I would have simply exited the forums and never returned. But today, all this "nonsense" seems to correlate significantly with what I had witnessed last night.
Until seven in the morning, I scoured the internet until my mind grew foggy, signaling that it was time to hit the hay and catch some shut-eye...
This "bit" of sleep lasted until two in the afternoon. I woke up feeling as if someone had been whacking me with a pillow throughout my slumber. Nothing was particularly painful, but I felt a general sense of having been roughed up. Breaking my routine, I made myself a coffee instead of tea, though it unfortunately did nothing to clear my head. Even a brief jaunt to the Break did not alter my state. It appeared that the issue was not physical, but psychological. Finally, a contrast shower somewhat improved my condition, and the mental fog lifted, only to be replaced by an overarching reluctance to do anything, including thinking.
Gathering my willpower, I prepared a late breakfast and sat down at my computer with my plate. The BKDW website offered only vague details about the events of the previous night. They reported that an attempt to Breakthrough had taken place, and thanks to the valiant efforts of the Knights of Wilflaes, it was contained and suppressed. That was the extent of it — no further details.
The "Novilter's Masks" portal was significantly more emotive. On the homepage, they had posted an obituary for a Knight, a member of their organization, who had perished during the night's battle. These advocates for free information were frank about the fact that six defenders had fallen during the Breakthrough. This revelation triggered a torrent of comments, with people taken aback by the high number of casualties. Major newspapers and TV channels kicked up a fuss over this, but as usual, the media's coverage quickly devolved into squabbling and exploiting the deaths of others. What irked me more was the silence maintained by both the Masks and the BKDW concerning what had emerged from the Breakthrough and what the raigs had been up against.
When the clock hit four in the afternoon, I detached myself from the computer and got dressed. The previous night had made me realize just how little I knew about the Breakthroughs. The internet hadn't clarified much, which meant I would have to tackle my ignorance from a different angle. At first, I thought about sending a personal message to the moderator of the Novilter's Masks website, introducing myself as a raig and posing my burning questions. However, I quickly abandoned this plan, figuring that the site likely receives hundreds, if not thousands, of similar messages daily, with every second author claiming to be a Break Knight. The moderator's email address was the only available contact information on the Masks' website, and I had no idea how else to reach them. Consequently, I opted for a more direct approach.
Having donned my motorcycle gear, I draped a black cloak over it, adding extra padding under the suit's shoulder pads. Now, the reflection in the mirror wasn't that of a slender boy or a girl in a helmet, but a broad-shouldered stranger enveloped in a cloak. Satisfied with my appearance, I slipped into the Break.
I was in pursuit of answers, and only one place could offer them. So, emerging from the hatch a couple of blocks from my house, I didn't attempt to conceal my spectral form, but rather dashed across rooftops, leaping over the narrow streets toward Equality Square. Almost all the city's raigs had already witnessed my projection, so there was no point in hiding it.
However, as I zipped across the city streets at the speed of an express train, I kept an eye out to avoid accidentally crossing paths with other Knights. But, even as I traversed the city's heart, even along the rooftops, I didn't encounter any raigs. They were likely recuperating from the nocturnal carnage, choosing to stay at home rather than roam around Wilflaes.
Reaching the central square of the capital, I descended onto the cobblestones. My attention was drawn to the BKDW building, situated directly across from city hall. The location used to house an ethnographic museum dedicated to the initial settlers of Lemuria, but a major fire three years ago had nearly reduced the building to ashes. Consequently, the museum was relocated to a new pavilion in Founders' Park, and the refurbished building was handed over to the Knights' organization.
Today, the usual scorching heat was absent, with a sea breeze tempering the day's warmth. The square was filled with people idly strolling about — primarily tourists and other visitors to the capital. Many were gathered around the fountains, but an equal number queued at the BKDW building.
The organization of the open Break Knights attracted a significant number of the curious, contributing substantially to the overall tourist influx.
Remaining in the Break, I bypassed the line and walked through the main entrance. I must say, the first time you step into this building, you're left frozen for a few seconds, taking in the sight.
Immediately at the entrance is a large — no, immense — hall that occupies half of the ground floor of this sizeable building. High ceilings, stretching over five meters, and a haphazard selective lighting cast half of the hall into shadows. Shadows that, due to the constant movement of people, seemed alive. This was deeply unsettling, especially when transitioning from the bright daylight of the central square.
The entire hall is devoid of furniture, save for the supporting pillars integrated with monitors, continuously looping general informational videos about the Knights. The hall's walls, however, are adorned with paintings. Each canvas is set within a unique frame and highlighted by its own light source. These images portray the projections of the Break Knights — the open and anonymous members of the BKDW, as well as all known raigs in the city. The paintings are astonishingly detailed, their quality matching, if not surpassing, photographs. The unidentified artist not only managed to capture the exterior but also succeeded in reflecting the individuality inherent in each projection through poses and perspectives. Each artwork is accompanied by a plaque bearing the Knight's pseudonym. The largest crowds gathered around two paintings. The first depicted Max Kraas in gleaming armor, assuming a heroic pose. The second froze Maya in an agile, offensive maneuver. Interestingly, there was a clear gender division among the onlookers. A substantial crowd, mostly composed of girls, was drawn to the image of the knight in gold, whereas the depiction of the spectral female warrior held greater appeal for young men.
Apart from the visitors, the hall housed five police officers and six guides. These ordinary individuals were well-versed in the history of the Knights of Wilflaes and ready to share it with any interested party. The vast space bore some resemblance to memorial halls found in military museums.
After the building's reconstruction, it was completely redesigned to accommodate the specific needs of its new tenants. A prime example of this custom renovation was that the central entrance was the sole door in the hall. More accurately, there was another door, but it was merely painted with white paint on the wall opposite the entrance! Above this exaggerated, even slightly childish depiction, a sign read:
"For Break Knights Only"