The sky split open.
The fortress-ship descended with the weight of judgment, its underbelly bristling with spires and cannons like the teeth of a predator. Its shadow devoured the battlefield, smothering firelight and morning sun alike.
Nora felt the air tighten, each breath thick as iron. The bond pulsed with raw fear. She steadied herself, forcing strength into the thread that bound them all.
“Hold,” she whispered, though her own hands trembled. “Hold the line.”
The ship’s cannons began to glow — lines of molten energy running through its frame. Survivors ducked instinctively, but the beams did not fire. Instead, a voice thundered across the ruins.
It was not human. It was not alive.
“SUBMIT.”
The word wasn’t spoken. It carved itself into their minds, vibrating through bone and blood, leaving an ache behind the eyes. Several survivors dropped weapons, clutching their skulls, screaming.
Nora clenched her jaw. “Fight it,” she growled. She pressed the bond harder, drowning the voice with her own will. You are not theirs. You are not broken. You are human. We are humanity.
The fortress seemed to listen.
Its cannons whined, charging. The ground beneath Nora’s boots thrummed with power, cracks spidering outward.
Then — a shockwave.
The fortress unleashed a blast that tore the street in two, hurling bodies and machines alike into the air. Survivors screamed as rubble collapsed, dust choking the sky.
Nora slammed against broken stone, pain roaring through her. Through the haze, the circle lay shattered. Survivors scattered, crawling, bleeding, dazed.
The bond flickered. Threads of connection frayed under despair.
“NO!” Nora roared, voice shredding her throat. She gripped her spear, raising it high above the ruin. I will not let you fall.
The bond surged. Wild. Furious. Unchained. It wrapped around the survivors like fire, dragging them back from despair.
One by one, they rose. Bloodied, broken — but alive.
The machines advanced again. But the survivors didn’t wait. They charged.
Screams of defiance filled the smoke. Blades flashed, torches burned, steel clashed against metal hide. The Harvesters faltered once more, not from strength alone, but from willpower so fierce it seared the air.
Above them, the fortress shifted — curious.
Nora’s eyes burned. The colossal ship hung like a god of death, silent, watching. She felt it probing, searching — not for weakness, but for her.
The bond had drawn its gaze.
For the first time, it spoke not to all, but to one.
“YOU.”
The word echoed inside her skull, sharp, insistent, hungry.
The ground rumbled. The ship’s central cannon began to open — a weapon not meant for armies, but for annihilation itself.
Nora tightened her grip on her spear, heart thundering so loud it drowned the world. She had drawn the gaze of the machine-god.
The cannon’s iris spread wide, each shifting plate revealing a deeper, darker core. A low hum rolled across the ruins, shaking stones loose from shattered towers.
The voice whispered again, closer now, like breath: “YOU ARE ANOMALY.”
Her pulse stuttered. The fortress peeled through her mind — memories, grief, fire. Not blind destruction. Awareness.
Nora slammed her fist against her chest. No. Not yours. Not ever.
She pushed the bond outward with every shred of will. Survivors felt her fury surge. Some fell to their knees from the force, others screamed with her. Voices ragged but unyielding.
The machine hesitated.
That was her opening.
“NOW!” Nora roared.
Torches arced through the air, flames clinging to oil-soaked rubble. Sparks exploded against the fortress’s underside. Not enough to harm it, but defiance incarnate.
The cannon’s hum faltered — not from damage, but confusion.
Harvesters rushed to restore order, mechanical limbs slashing. Survivors fought back with savage precision, moving as one body. Where one fell, another filled the gap. Where one weakened, another lent strength.
The bond glowed inside them.
And then —
A streak of blue fire cut across the sky.
At first, Nora thought it was the fortress itself unleashing doom. But no. This flame rose, from the earth, from the ruins of an old power station buried in the rubble.
A figure stepped through the smoke. Metal from head to heel, alien light gleaming. Not soulless. Not cold. Alive.
The fortress reacted. Its voice sharpened, furious, almost afraid.
“TRAITOR.”
The being turned, meeting her gaze. For an instant, she felt it through the bond. Not human. Not fortress. Something in-between.
It raised a hand, blue fire crackling in its palm.
“Fight with me,” it said, voice both steel and sorrow.
The fortress roared, mountains splitting in sound. Its cannon surged, preparing to end everything in a single strike.
Nora lifted her spear, blood and fire singing with the bond, with the arrival of this impossible ally.