The city of Zyr was already screaming when it began.

  Not from the fear of the people at first, Zyr had endured sieges before after all.

  The sound that resonated came from the metal falling like a storm. Roof tiles tore free. Street signs ripped themselves from stone. The blades left their sheaths, the armor plates flew through the crimson sky, nails tore from beams, hinges shrieked as doors disassembled themselves mid-flight.

  Everything that could be called metal answered the same summons.

  'How the hell did it come to this...'

  Khiel stood at the center of it, his feet were planted in the fractured stone, his teeth clenched hard enough that his jaw ached. His Authority spread outward in invisible lines, seizing control where it could, forcing the storm of metal to stop in their tracks.

  Control. That was all he had.

  Hama had sealed himself within the forge a week ago in order for the citizens of Zyr to evacuate properly, but some stubborn ones — the majority — had thought they were safe, just because Soaring Blades, Bastion and Forgewright were there to protect them.

  'What do you expect three individuals to do?!'

  "MOVE!" Scylla roared behind him.

  Bastion was already in motion, a towering figure wrapped in reinforced armor that groaned under its own mass. Her braid lashed behind her as she ran through the streets, physically placing herself between civilians and incoming weapons.

  A sword screamed toward a group of fleeing townsfolk.

  Scylla caught it mid-air with a bare hand.

  Her Authority surged and densified the object. The blade thickened instantly, its weight multiplying until the metal could no longer support itself. It buckled, then collapsed inward, folding like wet clay before dropping harmlessly to the ground.

  She did it again.

  And again.

  Axes became immovable lumps. Spears bent into useless arcs. Armor plates crushed themselves under their own reinforced density before they could reach flesh.

  It was crude. Inelegant, and yet still effective.

  "Eolka!" she shouted.

  "I know!" came the strained reply.

  Further down the avenue, a slender and armored figure with short auburn hair slammed her palms to the ground. Metal ripped itself from the street, from broken carts, from fallen debris, flowing together into hulking shapes that rose with grinding roars. Golems threw themselves into the path of the metal rain, their bodies shattered as they absorbed impact after impact.

  None of them were meant to last.

  They only needed time, but theirs was running out.

  "MY SISTER, PLEASE! SHE'S STILL IN THERE!" A heartbroken man said.

  'Your sister is dead.'

  Even if his sweat stung his eyes, he could see very clearly the body of the child crushed by the wall's weight, the gore spilled across the street.

  Scylla shouted, her voice cutting clean through panic. "Don't look back! Keep moving!"

  Eolka guided the civilians with short, sharp commands, her hands constantly moved as she reshaped her constructs, she repaired cracks, and replaced the limbs.

  She was adapting to the damage in real time.

  Khiel felt the pressure building and yet...

  Hama was not focusing on any of them.

  That was the worst part.

  Hama stood at the far end of the avenue, armor no longer alabaster, but blackened as if the night itself had fused to it. The plume on top of his helmet fluttered in the ash-wind.

  The crimson glow that served for his eyes behind his visor burned steadily, unmoved by the chaos around him.

  His presence alone dragged metal toward him, like a tide pulled by a dead moon.

  Khiel strained, his sweat ran down his temples as he redirected another barrage. His blades formed faster now, thinner, sharper, intercepting weapons mid-flight and detonating them into showers of harmless fragments.

  Then Hama stepped forward and the ground cracked.

  Every piece of metal in the city screamed at once.

  Khiel dropped to one knee, blood running from his nose as his Authority buckled under the sheer weight of Hama's command pressing against it.

  'I am going to die today.'

  Khiel was a realist, he knew when a situation was hopeless.

  He had no control over the situation, no control over Hama's Authority.

  How funny, to get robbed of control by the very demigod that taught you how to wield it.

  Scylla skidded to a halt, her boots carved trenches into stone as she reinforced herself, muscles locking, armor densifying until it could withstand the pull. Even then, her breath came out ragged.

  "Hama!" she shouted, more plea than challenge. "Stop this! Please!"

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  He did not answer.

  His visor turned, and crimson light bled through the slits like a wound that would not close.

  That was when they finally realized it, The Alabaster Knight was gone.

  What remained was a thing that moved forward, and everything metallic followed.

  Forgewright's golems shattered one by one as the pull intensified, torn apart and dragged toward Hama in a roaring tide of steel. She screamed in frustration and rebuilt them faster, smaller this time, using mass and placement rather than size.

  'Why are they still going... it's already over.'

  Scylla planted herself at the edge of the evacuation route, reinforcing the very ground beneath her feet until it groaned, anchoring herself against the pull. Weapons shattered against her position, reduced to scrap before they could pass.

  Hama raised one hand.

  Khiel closed his eyes 'Sorry, Naro. Looks like we're never getting that rematch.'

  A piercing neigh made itself known.

  khiel opened his eyes to see a white armoured steed.

  It thundered down the main avenue like a living spear, its hooves stroke sparks from stone,and its mane glew pale against the ash-choked sky. It moved with purpose and charged straight toward the tall black-armored figure at the far end of the city.

  Her owner.

  Khiel's eyes widened

  'What the hell is she doing...' "HINARI GET AWAY FROM HERE!" Khiel screamed at the horse

  Hama stood less than thirty paces ahead of her now, half-buried in drifting steel, his presence still dragging metal inward like a wounded star.

  The Alabaster Knight stood unmoving, and for the for the first time since the assault began,

  He hesitated.

  Khiel felt that hesitation, he felt the Authority-pressure easing. the storm faltered, the metal trembled in midair as the Guardian's commands wavered.

  Khiel did not think.

  He could not afford to.

  His Authority surged outward violently, seizing everything it could reach.

  Every blade, every shard, every twisted remnant still suspended in the air.

  'Mine.'

  The rain reversed.

  Khiel raised his arm and shouted, his voice tearing raw from his throat.

  "Strike him down!"

  In his mind, quieter than breath, a single thought followed.

  'I'm sorry.'

  The redirected storm flew forward as one.

  Steel slammed into Hama's position with catastrophic force, burying him beneath his own weapons, driving him back through stone and street alike. The white steed was caught in it, its voice was drowned and its figure vanished beneath the avalanche.

  The ground shook.

  When the dust settled, Hama was on the ground and pinned beneath the weight of metal and hesitation both.

  His visor cracked and formed a sinister maw that let out a deafening screech.

  "NOW!" Scylla bellowed.

  Eolka collapsed her remaining golems into the street behind them, metal liquefying and hardening into a barricade.

  Khiel staggered after them, vision swimming, his blood streamed freely now as the weight of what he had done settled into his bones. Scylla seized him by the collar and dragged him bodily through the gate as it slammed shut.

  Behind them, the barricade shattered.

  And Zyr burned behind them.

  Khiel did not remember when the world settled again.

  One moment he was there, the metal still screaming with his blood coming out of his mouth, and the next he was standing in the present, the echo of steel fading into the dust of the training grounds.

  His hands were clenched.

  Naro stood a few steps away, sword sheathed, volcanic arm hanging loose at his side. He hadn't moved since Khiel finished speaking.

  "So that's what happened in Zyr," Khiel said at last.

  Silence followed.

  Naro exhaled slowly through his nose.

  "My horse..."

  Khiel glanced away. "She shouldn't have been there."

  "Perhaps," Naro agreed.

  Another pause.

  Khiel waited for anger. For accusations. For the kind of reaction he'd seen in others once they learned any hurtful truths.

  Instead, Naro looked away.

  "...That sucks," he said simply.

  Khiel blinked.

  "That's it?" he asked, before he could stop himself.

  Naro shrugged faintly. "What do you want me to say? That it was unforgivable?" He glanced back. "You already know that."

  His jaw tightened, just a fraction.

  "But if you hadn't acted," Naro continued, "There would have been no survivors. You, Scylla, Eolka, and the people, you'd all be dead."

  Khiel said nothing.

  Inside, something shifted.

  'He's not looking at me like before.'

  Naro's gaze was sharper, maybe colder than it used to be.

  'His fight with Paro really did change him,' Khiel thought.

  Naro spoke again. "You said there was a sliver of luck at the meeting, was it that?"

  Khiel nodded. "Hinari's appearance disrupted Hama and gave me a window, Without it, I wouldn't have been able to seize control of the battlefield."

  Naro tilted his head. "You're wrong."

  Khiel frowned. "What?"

  "Hinari would've come anyways."

  Khiel stiffened.

  He continued "That horse was always quite special, you know?"

  Naro smiled wistfully "When I was sad and Hama wasn't home, she'd somehow find me every time so I could play with her. Sadness wasn't the only emotion that she could feel from me, though."

  He paused, then sighed quietly, "So you calling that luck actually cheapens her actions."

  Khiel felt his chest tighten.

  "...I'm sorry."

  Naro waved it off and turned away.

  "It's fine, I know you didn't mean it," he said over his shoulder. "Though..."

  "If that kind of collateral damage happens again," Naro went on, voice even, almost casual, "if you ever go all out like that and it costs lives on our side..."

  He stopped walking.

  "I don't care who you are," Naro finished. "I will beat your ass."

  There was no threat in his tone, maybe it was a promise instead.

  Naro resumed walking without waiting for a response.

  Khiel stood there, staring after him.

  He smiled 'Maybe you haven't changed at all, actually.'

  Elsewhere

  Agir's workshop hummed with quiet, precise energy.

  Tools floated in controlled orbits. Runes glowed softly along the walls and reacted to changes in mana like living things. The scent of heated metal and stone filled the air.

  Inside a young Ascendant with orange spiky hair and a scarred white haired Magus sat at a work table and analyzed a compact device etched with ancient runes, its surface worn from age and use.

  "Mhm, I can replicate the rune-work, somewhat. The problem is that I don't have proper vessels for it to work in an Authority heavy environment."

  Rami shook her head and smiled. "It's fine. though Paro's corpse is still inside that cave, so maybe you can ask someone to fetch it for you."

  "There's a young Ascendant with insect features that's heading to Kresha, the wagons haven't gone away yet so you can go ask her."

  Agir's eyes widened "You're... completely right! That could fix a lot of my problems too!"

  Then his eyes narrowed "Though I have a question for you."

  Rami gestured with her hand "Ask away!"

  He fiddled with the object "Spike can regrow limbs thanks to his healing Authority, it's something I can also do to an extent."

  "This is from his pincers, I recognized the material immediately. In theory, he can make as many sturdy 'Divine tools' as he wants..."

  "So wh-"

  She cut him off "I already know what you're going to ask, 'Why did he give you a simple wooden staff to keep the Rune of Life on it?' "

  Rami spoke with a bitter voice "That is because Spike wanted me to fail at some point — to give up trying to meddle with his plans about a certain individual."

  She chuckled "That scorpion has a very twisted idea of the word 'protect', you see? He doesn't want me to lose my life because my mother, Arielle, probably made him promise to."

  "But I don't like my life being manipulated from the get-go and as you know Agir, I am a very petty individual. So I have a question of my own for you."

  "Go ahead," he replied.

  Agir could not lie if he said he had a bit of prejudice toward Rami's family in general, but he was pleasantly surprised, she was not as despicable as the ghouls that were named "Oracles" and the Scorpion of Death himself. Heck he even felt some kinship between them.

  "The shade of the devourer should be able to carry corrupted Authority, well Authority in general."

  "What would happen if a Gaonian fused with a vessel that once carried Authority? Would they become the vessel itself?" She finally asked.

  "Huh that is an interesting question, maybe it wou..."

  He was quiet for a bit, then turned to look at Rami with a stunned expression, the scarred woman sitting next to him had the calmest face he'd ever seen.

  After a moment... the young Ascendant laughed nervously 'Crazy! All of them are crazy!'