Kidra dove and wove through the defense of the next Feather, opening fire with her sidearm in close range.
A single occult gel bullet struck the target, ripping the shields apart, just as her blade cleaved through the neck an instant later.
They really were vulnerable to that particular combo. Expecting their shield to guard them from her blade. The moment they realized their shield had been punctured, it was too late to do anything else.
Kidra had been among the Icon’s best agents in handling Feathers. With assistance from a deceased clan knight assisting with the time fractal she now wore, her speed outmaneuvered the enemy Feathers even if they somehow survived her bullet and blade attack. And the tomb-bound clan knight currently nestled in one of her spare soul fractals could focus solely on protecting them both from damage, while she focused on occult casting or cutting down her foes.
It was unfortunate, but casualties and loss of life among the Altosk Knights had grown over the fight. They were being sent into the most dangerous situations, in order to fight off the strongest of the machine forces.
The Icon never allowed a single knight to be forever lost however. Recovery missions to find and protect the souls of slain knights was always carried out. A few had remained alive long enough for To’Wrathh to heal back to full health as well, although that was the exception to the rule given the missions they’d been sent into.
A few of the more exceptional knights, the ones capable of learning and adapting quickly, had been brought back into the bodies of cleanly killed Feathers, following the trail set behind by her Father.
And for those who hadn’t been able to acclimate quickly enough to a new body, their skill and assistance kept knights like herself supported as she struck deep behind enemy lines.
All of this had ended up in this one field of battle, where the gods finally fought on the surface.
She just never expected one of those gods to be her own little brother.
The wave of occult he’d unleashed across the entire army here had made it completely and utterly clear he was beyond human now. She could feel the power deep in her bones, overshadowing everything within her armor. Inner fractals blared bright in response to the wave, as if greeting it back in response.
There was something more than just power within Keith, it was something ancient. It was as if he’d taken on a weapon of war that had been carefully honed generation over generation, until at last it had found its latest inheritor.
He’d sounded regal and in control in the public recordings and speeches she’d heard of him. Enough so she worried perhaps the change had fundamentally wiped her little brother into something other. That this new weapon he was using had overwhelmed him somehow on the inside.
The occult that constantly circled around him at all times, as if doting on him, made her begin to suspect that might have been the case.
Fortunately, her little brother was too much for even something as ancient as the mantle of the Emperor to overtake him. Speaking to him earlier had cleared her mind, although the occult display between the gods brandishing their weapons of war made her second guess.
As for the speeches, that was all Cathida spouting the most imperial sounding words she could string together, while her brother ran around like a headless chicken trying to put out fires.
She saw him grab an airspeeder sized blade with pure occult will, spin it around him, and throw it right back at the enemy goddess.
And then as if by a small whim, eradicated the front lines of the Feather army with barely a gesture from his floating position above the battlefield.
Given he was still Keith deep down inside, she knew he was going to be utterly insufferable after all of this was over.
The power not claiming or warping his soul hadn’t been what Kidra felt more relieved about however. It was the inability to die.
Keith was now a Deathless. More than just any Deathless, he’d inherited the powers of the progenitor of all Deathless.
Which meant no matter what Relinquished could do, Keith would never die to her whims. She didn't need to worry for his life any longer.
Lady Winterscar, please remain focused. Knight Retainer Eshinai spoke, her words a gentle reminder.
Eshinai was among the new knights inducted into House Highwind, and one that came after the original veterans of Lord Atius and House Winterscar had learned the new techniques and began breaking apart the slaver army. In fact, her own relic armor had been stripped straight from a slaver who’d worn it for decades until he’d been brought low.
She had fought bravely in the past few hours, until she was caught and overwhelmed by missing a step the Icon had laid out. It was an unfortunate ending, but not one Eshinai blamed anyone for. She was simply content to have a second chance to serve humanity.
And in her mind, keeping Kidra from her own undying fate was the best way she could serve humanity as a whole. Your little brother is safe and knows how to fight. Lord Atius is keeping an eye on when she will strike this position. We must remain focused on staying alive until that moment.
Kidra hummed back, winding her thoughts away from the current events and focusing on her singular task: Assist in the battle here. And draw attention.
The Feathers ahead of Kidra raged out, but between the Winterscars gathered here and the Clan Lord’s personal guard, the Feathers were being mowed down with speed.
She had expected she’d get about five more minutes before her part truly began.
Fate had different directions for her, and so did Relinquished.
“Lass, she’s turning our way!” Lord Atius called out, specifically watching for this moment. “All knights, execute plan!”
Occult pulsed around several of the Deathless holding position near her. The air warped and hazed, and Kidra saw a mirror of herself step out of her body, following her prior actions.
A variation on the mirror fractal found long ago across the world. And now held under Bob's banner. The one being that had enough presence of mind to see a few hundred images all at the same time.
Unlike Keith's, this one followed with color rather than a ghostly manifestation. A more complete version, with heavy tradeoffs in other areas. Closer to reality, and subject to more of its rules. But that was acceptable. All they needed here was the misdirection.
Further occult pulsed around her, a haze that would obscure herself from vision, cast by nearby Undersider Deathless. A part of their team tactics, usable to retreat or silently move around the enemy. A support spell.
Today, it would see highly precise use.
Behind her, she felt an occult lash strike her back, and rip her off the ground and away, assisted by her own jump packs.
In the soul sight, she saw Atius and other Winterscars had equally been hit by the grapples and yanked backwards.
In her normal eyesight however, all she saw were them advancing forward as they had before, as if nothing had happened. All replaced with mirror images while their true bodies were obscured and yanked away.
Power flowed through the land at the command of a vengeful goddess an instant later. A chasm formed under their feet and wild occult flared upwards like a volcano, consuming all the images Bob had sent forward ahead.
They had all suspected Relinquished wouldn’t fight Keith fairly. The Icon had predicted a set amount of directions the enemy goddess would attempt, and at the very top was using the army of mankind itself to force Keith’s hand. And that began with them first, the people spotted gathered around him moments before the fight.
The destruction they’d avoided was on a massive scale and near instant. For a moment, the entire battle’s noise vanished, replaced only by the crackling occult ahead of her.
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The Feathers and machines she’d been fighting were ripped to shreds in the crossfire, as were the mirror images cast only handful of seconds ago.
The team was safely reeled away into a more hidden chasam, gouged out near the start of the fight.
It was in the shadow of the terrain that she finally landed on her boots and skidded to a stop.
She got to work before she even came to that stop.
Her decorations were ripped off. As were the other parts of her house identity. Everything that would reveal her as part of House Winterscar, or a clan knight at all, was removed and discarded.
The administrator permissions unlocked by Urs’s final edict among all armors allowed her to even modify the life support signals the armors were hardwired to send. Making her appear as another standard knight in all ways that mattered. Certainly there would be flaws to catch, but among the thousands, she would vanish.
And now Relinquished would never have a bead on her or anyone Keith loved ever again.
He still dove straight for the chasm, moving on his expected plan, acting as a stunned and furious witness. She didn't dare send him a confirmation signal that the plan had suceeded. To his sight, she would have really appeared as if consumed by the fury the goddess had sent their way.
He’d need to simply trust she had been able to survive the attack as planned.
******
A maze of hallways and engineering rooms lay ahead of To’Wrathh as she slowly navigated through.
The architecture of the station was efficient and clearly built with no inner ascetics besides pure functionality. In a way, it reminded her of the surface clan colony schematics she’d seen on the few times she’d studied how other surface clans besides Altosk settled and operated.
Metal railings were everywhere, leading to different logistics centers. Wires remained on the sides of the walls completely exposed, bundled in massive thick tubes. She passed multiple signs of old crew compartments, which indicated this terraforming platform once housed more than just an automated force during the older eras.
And woven through all of it was the blue glow of occult. Large metal sheets had been affixed into different corridors, matching cardinal locations on To’Wrathhs slowly put together inner map of the station. All glowing with fractals of different kinds, linked to one another in arcane methods only the spellcrafter would understand the nature of.
The material and composition showed they were alien additions to the station. Wires connected these larger plates, leading to one after another, haphazardly spread across the ground rather than the neat tidy lines on the walls. If anything, it seemed as if the wires had been cannibalized from other systems within the station, to be reused for this.
The work of Urs. Tenisent said, watching. He’d seen this before in the citadel walls of the Imperial Church. There was more to it that he could see, likely improvements made by the forgesmith over his years of craft. The citadel had only been the prototype after all.
“The fortress is tapping into this system.” To’Wrathh noted, watching as the occult glowed all around and through these plates. It meant there was power being channeled through.
The hallway to her right lit to life, click after click as the white light above illuminated the way forward. At the end, the doorway silently opened up. She had been following this path for some time now, deciding to follow her intuition.
Something is commanding the plates. Tenisent noted as they passed through the derelict hallway. This is no case of an automated system accidentally tapping into Urs’s defense.
The Citadel had taken seven venerable Deathless of an older age to power and maintain it. And in the process of holding the line, a few had been burned away as the damage had mounted up.
Which meant something existed on this fortress that had a presence powerful enough to match those elder Deathless.
And greatly surpass them. Tenisent spoke. It has been shielding this station for hours now, and likely has taken great damage already. Far longer than the walls were kept. There is something within this station, within the walls.
Was the defense system aboard this fortress something that had developed a soul fractal at some time, and then grown into the fortress as its shell? It was possible.
Or perhaps Urs had polished and optimized the defense into something that would hold off a legion with less effort.
The lights continued to flicker on and off. Leading her. She wasn’t certain she should follow, but she’d come too far to hold back now. If the station had allowed her to board without resistance, something deeper within was calling for her here.
The mites must have a hand here. Tenisent said, coming to the only conclusion possible.
The path they were taking was leading them to the outer observation decks, further to the upper end of the fortress.
Most of these decks were empty. Most. One single one, the largest she’d passed by, did have something more than empty seats.
Skeletal dead all huddled together in the same chamber, watching the white world below. Some were locked with each other, hugging. Others had simply sat down to the side of the walls and expired there.
Their clothing was tattered, with heavy signs of hard work, fabrics already fraying apart. Evidence of food and decorations littered the grounds, as if this had been a celebration rather than a communal burial site.
“Talen’s original docking crew.” To’Wrathh noted.
Poison. Tenisent said. Talen returned to the world through death itself, but they knew they would have no means to return themselves once their task was complete.
To’Wrathh gave the dead a somber salute and nod. She understood the determination these people had. The deaths here had been peaceful, she could tell that much.
Which meant they had likely spent days working within this station in order to be comfortable enough to prepare this kind of send-off. Entire days likely without any attack from the station inner defenses. It further reinforced her growing suspicion that Tsuya’s fortress could detect humans walking within.
They died believing their contribution would save the world.
“It still might.” To’Wrathh whispered. Then turned, and continued past. To the next doorway.
Closer and closer to the heart of the fortress.
Eventually, her journey came to an end. Before her stood a far more fortified doorway. She could tell most of the doorway had been reinforced post-creation. And the craftsmanship of it showed something more from the golden age rather than Talen's crew.
It meant this station had seen more retrofits than what Talen had done. Perhaps that was when the weapon systems and turrets were attached. Perhaps Tsuya had bargained with the mites to improve this station, expecting a final battle like this one. Or she wanted to keep it better defended, given the ultimate role she had in mind for these.
Regardless, like all other doors, this one slowly opened up as well. Allowing her past effortlessly.
Beyond, she saw the full bridge. It was a massive circular room, screen and panels fit within everywhere there was space. And at the center was a holographic three dimensional projection of the world. A white sphere slowly rotating.
She could see the station in green, orbiting on the edge of the world. A single path was outlined, ever changing as additional threat vectors were detected and adjusted for. Thousands of red dots littered the wastes on that map, with system prompts and screens appearing on each for half seconds. Occasionally, red paths appeared from the surface upwards to the station, as Relinquished sent an attack of some kind.
Circular staircases on both sides of the bridge led to upper floors, three decks in total.
To’Wrathh carefully walked through, shield raised, the hilt of her blade steady in her hand.
An automated voice came across the speaker.
“New velocity vector reached. Main engines shutting down.”
The station was alive, and very much in motion.
“New rotation angle confirmed.” The announcement rang. “Preparing for retroburn maneuver."
She felt a slight lurch as the station began to rotate on itself, pointing the main engines in the direction they were currently heading to.
We are not alone. Tenisent urged her to turn her attention away from the terminal, further off above them both. Someone is here.
It was at this time she noticed the bottom of the command deck had been modified. In fact, almost all parts of this deck had foreign intrusion. Massive metal plates like the ones of Urs’s defenses were setup, although none glowed occult blue yet. They were dormant, waiting for a single moment in history.
To’Wrathh noticed a tangle of thick wires coming from all sides, left on the ground, leading up the open catwalks and stairwells like small frozen rivers. Meeting and merging together again and again. All connecting upwards.
She followed them slowly, carefully, walking up the spiral staircase surrounding the holographic earth hovering at the center.
“Rotation complete. Main engine standby for retroburn maneuver.” The old station rumbled. “New orbital trajectory locked. Warning. Hull is not rated for low atmosphere maneuvers. Confirm trajectory.”
The two decks here were well lit with lights, but the third and smallest deck above was left in darkness. It was less of a deck and more a simple recessed landing.
All of the cable lines converged on the floor together, climbing up the final set of stairs.
Carefully, with her shield angled to it, she stepped past the wires, heels clicking on the dead metal under her one step at a time.
The third deck here had once been the seat of the captain. With only the highest officer stations nearby. Now, only a metal throne remained at the center.
A mist of occult suffused this deck, hiding details, forcing the darkness to be more than simple natural absence of light.
And as her eyes adjusted and filtered against the occult occlusion, a humanoid figure seemed to appear within the shadows, sitting within that throne, bent downwards as if in death. Wires connected all across his back, affixing the man to the station itself.
An eye opened in that darkness, dimly lit blue, then turned to stare at her without emotion. “Daughter of darkness.” The figure spoke.
She recognized the voice. She’d heard him among recorded history, carefully plundered in hidden archives. And she had heard him once before in person.
Tsuya had told them all a friend was on the station. She had refused to inform them of more. And what the Icon had recovered among her broken down architecture and leftover empire had shown only a high level automated system had been left there.
It seems the goddess had taken this secret to the grave with her, kept only in her mind and left off the records. The one place Relinquished shouldn't have been able to pilfer from. Unfortunate she had been killed in the one way that would let the enemy discover that.
It did however explain why this station responded so accurately to the Icon's movements. There had been a commander here this entire time.
A face filled with occult cracks lifted and watched as To’Wrathh stood before him. “I have watched your accent, mile by mile.” He said. “I allowed your passage here before me for the sake of certainty. That you remain alive now, is by my judgement. That you walk away alive, will depend on the same.”
His back drew fully upwards, straightening. His eyes seemed to sharpen on her. Occult gently swirled around, and even Tenisent felt it more akin to a maw, waiting to snap shut upon them.
“Machine Feather of the Pale Lady.” A01 spoke, now fully present. “Explain why I should not strike you down where you stand.”
