Glittering Greed (Endymion/Jericho)

[GEAR]

September 10th, OE 102
9:00 AM
Meissen, Germany
Albrechtsburg Castle

News of the ceasefire between the Jericho Faction and Endymion couldn't have come as more of a relief to those on the front lines. As tensions dissipated, some crossed from one line to another to share greetings, stories, and break the ice between the two forces. Though still weary - at any moment, they knew, hostilities could resume - the thaw was in progress.

In some places more than others.

Against the dramatic backdrop of the towering Albrechtsburg Castle, a bright green Zecheriah thundered across the land, thrusters blazing as missile-fire pounded the ground about it. With a burst of energy, it flung itself bodily forward, rolling into cover behind an unoccupied building, the pilot within catching his breath. Beside it, a tan colored Huckebeine Mk-IIM turned to look down at him, already slotting another energy pack into its proton rifle.

"You with the reinforcements?"

"I am the reinforcements. They got the rest of us."

The Huckebein shook its head, sadly.

"Same here."

Helping the green knight to its knees, they hunkered down together in contemplation, sneaking a glimpse at the forms now circling overhead, the drone of over a dozen Tesla Drives like the humming of a thousand insects in their ears.



Lanky and unnatural looking, the interlopers' bone-colored shells flew in tight, immaculate formations. Their six eyes clicked and whirred as they scanned the battlefield below. They'd never seen anything quite like these monsters before, not in all their years. And they way they moved-

The Endymion pilot said what they were both thinking.

"Is that really Terra Sentinel?"

---

"Report."

It was an order, not a request.

At the rear of the Bartoll formation, a single black machine lingered. Dark as obsidian, unlike its brethren, every part of it radiated an innate sharpness, like a bird of prey. Few would likely recall the silhouette of the Mironga, especially after the... modifications that had been made to it by Terra Sentinel. The strange shininess that now adorned its armor as it craned its head up, aware that its taskmaster was fighting his own battle in the distant heavens above.



"...Data gathering is in process, your excellency. I ask only for a little more patience."

The man known as Valdona - Doctor Valdona, more specifically, hardly resembled a man at all. A gnarled collection of steel, flesh, and piping hunched over the controls of the Mironga, occasionally giving an agitated twitch. He was used to it. Human bodies were, after all, terribly inefficient. It only made sense to replace them with superior components, but even that never failed to be unpleasant.

"My patience wears thin."

Valdona gave a thin, reedy, static flecked sigh... and commenced what he did best: Wheedling.

"Have I not earned a little leeway, your grace? System ACE is almost complete, and with it, our dominance is all but assured... all thanks to my genius, of course."

The terseness in Hyperion's voice did not fade one octave.

"And yet, at the time when your "genius" is needed most: here you are at the front, enamored with Kruger's theories."

Valdona gave an awkward laugh... and paused, as trying to make sense of it himself.

For how many years had he been locked away, not seeing the light of day, burying himself in their great work? He regretted none of it - not Omsk, not any of the other atrocities they'd privately commited, not even the slightest. It was not until they had come across this artifact... the way it called to him, the way it whispered and promised, showed him all the things that could be theirs, no - his... How could he ever explain that?

"I was... compelled." He said, finally.

Hyperion couldn't understand. No, wouldn't. His eyes were fixed on the horizon. Always had been. He hadn't learned anything from the fall. They were on the cusp of grasping something far greater, and he'd never see it. That suited him just fine. Already, he could feel the Sphere pulsing along, its energy almost radiating agreement. Empowerment. What a tantalizing sensation!

And it told him just how to get the boss off his back:

"On another note, I believe I have good news."

He thumbed a switch on the Mironga's dashboard, and a picture was brought up - of Sullivan, but more specifically, of the lavender haired woman seated behind him. Had he any teeth left, he would have grinned.

"You wouldn't believe who I've found..."

 

[MKR]

The near two weeks since the defeat of Shiseiten had been enlightening in its own unique way. It had been six months since her head had felt this clear, that was not to say things were 'normal' or the definition thereof she would have had a year ago but to Johanna there was a distinct difference between then and now. A clarity that was evidence that no longer were the sphere's desires master over her, now she truly controlled it. The examination conducted by her 'new' masters had concluded its first phase.

At least such was her observation of this matter, the qualities in here brought forward by them and refined by the Sphere had grown and blossomed into a full flower of knowledge. The one responsible for its final bloom likely unaware of exactly what he had caused, that man who she knew not beyond that glimpse of slaughter beneath the corpse of her nightmare. It was the sight of him and his machine that made that final click, this was something she knew for sure.

But the wheels of the world kept turning, she had been the one in a test tube so far. No longer was she compelled to stick her neck out beneath gallows to see the wood on the other side, not that that didn't mean she wouldn't do that of her own volition of course. On a related topic the one she was here with, the Twins' reactor, was evidence of as much. His capability to corral people into a joint path had already proven too alluring to refuse once, if she lowered her guard around him she may just lose sight of what mattered.

Rein Weissritter, she reminded herself. A white knight as before yes but there was an additional word, Rein, Pure. A confirmation of that internalized belief that she had been distilled into something pure when she saw those visions when the literal center of her being was split from her and replaced. The superiority that had been crushed by the bizarre and monstrous above Belfast restored, replenished and proven.

The machine loomed in the sky, a short distance away from the battle. Four wings keeping it afloat as the sniping machine observed. Scoping in it observed the black machine amidst the white.
"Is that.... The Mironga?" She wondered for a moment whether the child was still inside it, all she knew is that it hadn't been used since Belfast. Likely relegated to some dusty cabin, or as witnessed here found after the fragmenting of the greater whole that was the Directory. Did it matter if it was a child inside still? Even one she could claim kinship with back before her life became hell.

Not really, it was attacking allied troops and that made it a problem. Something stuck out in her mind, something said by the child that she met in the hangar of the Air Christmas on her first day... The AMN system, and also the fleet of machines that accompanied it then and now. She wondered if the two were connected but that mattered little. The important matters were that the Mironga had its cohorts, something she recalled being controlled by the pilot or nearby staff. She wasn't sure which.

But, a connection like that.

"Well James." She spoke into her comms for others to hear, particularly the one she had been helping "It is time to field test your connection, all those white machines should be remote controlled. If their connection were to be cut off from the control system that would be disastrous for them." In the meanwhile the Weissritter looked at the machine in the back, the Mironga itself. So that was where that object of desire had gone. The fleets were empty and barren, lacking the greed when she went to look. Fortunately she didn't have to search for long.

The weapon was already aimed, the shot was prepared. All she had to do was press the trigger, which left but the question of whether to go for the kill or not. Was there value in letting this opponent live? Would the information gleaned from his survival and possible growth be worth it or should she, like the many users of these spheres alongside her take them for herself.

James had indicated he didn't want any additional Spheres, she was inclined to believe him and that made him a somewhat poor fit for the object before them. She herself however had a clear desire, and what she wanted required collecting and like that it was decided. A beam raced through the air, piercing the sky as it hunted down the Mironga. Immediately she engaged motion, moving to the side as she continued to fire beams to weave a web of death for the black machine with little care for the white guard around it. After all if James didn't disappoint those would soon be of no concern.

 

[VeraC]

In the short span of six months, a mere blink of time compared to his eons-long imprisonment, Aberon assumed the role of an observer, watching how Earth's geopolitical situation evolved amidst the turmoil on Luna and the other happenings of the era. But within these fleeting moments, he felt one predominant emotion.

Disappointment.

As the impending end loomed over the realm day by day, Humanity still found energy to squabble amongst themselves, fighting meaningless battles while the world teetered on the brink. The end was nigh, and yet they wasted their potential on petty conflicts. Aberon clung to a faint glimmer of hope, possibly inspired by the words of Ganeden, who seemed more perceptive of mankind's ways than he. Perhaps she knew something he didn't.

Aberon was a fool to trust her.

He realized that if anything was to be done right, the burden fell on his shoulders. He would reclaim what was rightfully his - the Spheres that once formed his body - and defy the impending doom that threatened them all. There was no other path that promised success.

He would save this forsaken realm.

Even if no one welcomed his intervention.

And where better to begin this perilous journey than the battlefield that lay ahead? Half of the spheres had gathered in one place, a ripe opportunity for the taking, be it one, two, or, in the most ideal scenario, all of them. It pained him that he might have to destroy his own creations, but consolidating forces was necessary at times.

Descending from the clouds, stepping down an invisible staircase, Aberon advanced towards the battlefield without summoning his machine. He observed the Mironga, then the Weissritter, and finally the Genion, taking note of all the players present. A 3v1 would be advantageous to seize one sphere, but three fighters vying for ownership would lead to complications. Aligning with the Mironga could level the playing field, but the power balance still made it an uphill battle.

A degree of unpredictability was in order for this fight. Becoming a wildcard in the situation might yield favorable results or turn it into a 1v3 against him.

As he walked towards the battlefield, the Weissritter had already initiated an attack on the Mironga.

"Those warmongers disgust me," Aberon muttered, his eyes fixed on the Mironga. "The world has no place for their petty conflicts. Humanity must unite against the impending threat. Cease these senseless battles and grasp the bigger picture!"

Though directed at the Mironga's pilot, his words would hardly reach their ears - more of a monologue to himself. As he continued forward, he clenched his fists, causing massive mechanical crystalline-like arms to emerge from his sides, mirroring his movements.

"Ald Laser, Fire."

Energy gathered around the four ports on the machine's wrists, and a dark wave of energy blasted forth, aimed at the black machine, doubly beneficial should the beam strike through its companions as well.

He would strike two birds with one stone today.

 

[Hitura Rael]

Two weeks afforded little downtime to the young prince. Duty kept him mobile, relying upon the endless stream of tasks to keep his mind occupied. Training with Johana and the spheres, tending to Merida in her grief, bonding with allies both new and old... he nary had the time to stop and think or dwell. Not until the drowning silence when he laid down to sleep for the night, where he was left alone with his thoughts until he drifted into Hypnos' dark embrace. Restful sleep was rare, more so when Merida began to routinely join him in the middle of the night seeking comfort. And could he blame her? She lost her brother, her twin, her other half. With no family to reach out to in the vicinity, he was the closest she had. His bond with the sphere gifted by the fallen hero kept him going. It was a simple lie, one he had told subconsciously and slowly realized over the days with the rather violent help of Merida.

Rested or not, the war machine did not stop, did not sleep. With Jericho joined hand in hand against the coming storm; sights were set upon the remnants of Terra Sentinel. Together, they fought, edging the line closer and closer. Johana's knowledge proved itself more useful than James could have imagined. While the Weisritter took to the skies to survey the situation, Genion waited behind and slightly lower than the Weisritter, giving Johana space to work. Though, being honest, he wanted to be no where near the front end of a sniper raining hell on the battlefield.

As he waited, Merida cycled through system reports and configurations. The cockpit remained silent, save the sounds of tapping and responsive sounds from Genion's systems. Until Johana finally broke the silence. James only jumped a little. The smirk on Merida's face as she glanced had NOTHING to do with that. Despite responding calm and collected, his face burned with embarrassment. "Got it. I'll disable their communication systems and pick them off. Just give me a heads up if you need to shoot my way."

Genion waited for the first shot before darting forth. James drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly, tapping in to the Black Sheep, and through it, to both the Twins and the Crab spheres. It left a sour taste in his mouth and twisted his stomach; like soured wine fighting to be expelled. Doing anything with the Black Sheep felt like reaching through an oil slick, leaving a stain of filth upon his mind and soul. But it was a necessary evil, one he had attuned himself to for so many years without realizing. 'I'm fine, I can do this.'

As Genion's body shifted, slotting piece after piece into place for GAI, the oppressive wave was cast out, directed by Johana's descriptions and guidance ringing in his head. James focused on blocking out the hive mind while closing in the gap. With her speed, she quickly drew in range. Genion drew to an abrupt stop, raised her arm, braced with the other, and let off shot after concussive shot of energy at the bone white twisted machines.

 

[GEAR]

The Mironga's proximity alarm chirped avidly to the good Doctor, the dark machine languidly turning its head to spy the Weissritter as it took aim in the distance. Sure enough, much as expected, the Curious Goat's user had come. And behind her, no doubt was...

A distant BANG, and the sight of a Bartoll sent flying confirmed the presence of the Genion as well. Two for two. Now, where was the black one-

The distant glimmer of a plasma-beam cut his thoughts short, as the Mironga's thrusters flared and practically vanished from sight, the Ald Laser and Howling Launcher's blasts impacting one another with a torrent of glittering explosions. The sheer spectacle alone sent every lesser allied machine in the vicinity heading for the hills, Boost Drives leaving crisscrossing trails in the air above.

Arcing overhead, the Twin Tesla Drives carrying the Mironga made it little more than a blur to the naked eye as its cameras focused briefly on the glittering crystal behemoth below. On the one hand, it was a bit of a relief. That wasn't the imposter Cybuster. On the other...

What was the Zehirut doing here? And rambling something about uniting humanity? Ha! If only he could see what they'd already accomplished! Were his entire body not being pressed into his seat at speeds no human being could ever withstand, he would have laughed. That, and the onset of the silence solicited only a muted groan from the pipe that had once been his throat.

Better get this over with, then.

As it hung precariously in the air, masked by the smoke kicked up by its foes strikes, the twin hatch-laden containers on its back swung open...

---

For Johana, the danger was immediate.

Four Bartolls swung up from below, sluggishly spiraling towards her in the sky like clownish balloon animals, their bizarre multi-jointed shapes the furthest thing from aerodynamic imaginable - and yet somehow, gaining speed with each passing second. They fell into a practiced V-shape formation, and in mere moments a cloud of missiles and gunfire ripped up from below, blasting apart clouds and sending rounds hissing past her face. How long would it be before they closed the gap?

However, as soon as her attention was drawn by them, an alarm would have screamed at her. Something else shot out from her peripheral vision, hissing through the sky at breakneck speed - a dozen warheads, bending and whipping unnaturally in a way that only one type of weapon could as it homed in on her with a signature, unmatched efficiency:

Micro Tesla Drive Missiles.

The Curious Goat's Reactor was hardly the only one deserving of such attention, however.

James' blast bowled over the frontmost Bartoll, sending it spiraling up into the air, its armor crumpled and caved, struggling to right itself. Its fellows closed ranks and closed in, machineguns and missile launchers blazing wildly, saturating the area around him with suppressing fire that aimed to halt the charging Lunarian's advance.

But, that wasn't all.

With a muffled sonic shriek, the Mironga burst from the smoke above the Genion. The curious armament in its right hand was raised - and twin barrels blazed, sending a hail of what appeared to be spikes of some kind, or perhaps needles, at the Genion's upper body, with the force and speed of a full-bore machinegun. Row upon row of the projectiles stabbed into the ground about James, like a hail of stakes pounding into the earth.

In its left hand it clutched between its fingers a set of three mid-length spear-like objects, like knives, and as it put on another burst of speed from its twin drives, it flicked its wrist- and sent these flying towards the Genion's chest and waist before its binders flared, shooting it up and away into the air - and towards its next target above.

Meanwhile, the sight of the two gleaming arms of Zehirut seemed to strike uncertainty into the nearest group of Bartolls, who observed both it and the figure at it their center with something amounting to mechanical anxiety. Nevertheless, programming prevailed and they begun to advance one by one, laser-vulcans blazing and missiles hurtling forth to turn him into a cloud of deity-dust - just in case the rest of the behemoth was going to turn up.

 

[MKR]

An observation in the distance, the Sphere immediately made her privy to the facts of the matter as she grew to know who exactly had arrived to participate. She would have to have a chat with him about not taking any spheres in a similar vein as done with James. For now however other things took her attention as her alarm blared the Rein Weiss informing her of the inbound missiles with an enhanced visual feed and the very much audible alarm. James took well to the lessons he had taken from her, and such a useful tool the Lying Black Sheep was even for one as honest as he. But for the praise one Reactor got the other got a frown, Ox truly was charitable with its toys, how kind, how annoying.

As the Rein Weissritter hovered in the air its wings suddenly and sharply shifted, going from a more passive position where two flat lines could be drawn across them to a more distinct X shape, clear preparation for flight. She set the Goat to work, to browse its knowledge of its sister sphere the Ox and whether or not there was any way for her to decide that when the greedy orb came knocking it was her that decided what it would partake in and not its own call. However she would not invite it or agitate it by probing it directly, this was more of an internal browsing as she turned her own attention and focus on the assault against herself.

The visor resting above the knightly visage collapsed down, a green glow illuminated the red orb in the middle of its face briefly in turn as her own motion engaged, the Rein Weissritter zipping away from its old position fast enough that one could swear it was still there for a moment longer. The Bartolls would need time to calibrate to her adjusted position their suppressive fire giving the machine or woman inside little pause comparitively, they certainly were a lot less of a worry than the missiles heading her way. MTDM, it could make her retch how useful those were against the likes of her. Unfortunately however for those missiles they all still came from the same angle, which meant that she could lift up her arm which wasn't holding the Howling Launcher and put the three beam cannons in the interception.

One cannon fired, thereby exploiting the one solace she had against such weapons fired without much of a care or commitment after the fact, they were all together meaning that even with the swift evasive maneuvers they can use the armaments decide very very similar routes. A cloud was made in that moment as the first beam struck out the first of the missiles detonated the cloud of destruction was swiftly punctured by remaining missiles which in turn found the second and third barrel light up and decorate the sky in explosive materiel as the missiles were herded together by the Weissritter's rapid movement.

Movement that was pointed out all the more by the energy beams carving its way across the morning sky. Lines drawn from each position where the insanely fast white machine 'paused' to shoot its arm mounted cannon. However these were not going towards the missiles but rather the encroaching group of Bartolls. It was as if a student were calculating Pythagoras in the sky with how the lines of energy got drawn with the V formation of the approaching machines she got to take pot shots from an angle which forced all in the line to dodge but she had one ready for each of the machines as after the second rotation of the hand mounted beam cannon it went to grip the barrel of the Howling Launcher, the Rein Weiss flipping around as it then fired a continual beam at the clump of foes dragging it across them as a five year old artist would crayon across a wall.

The missiles had caught up, those that remained anyhow they pelted the plating on the machine's shoulder from one end with three, the other three flipping around and about with intent to strike from the other direction found the similar armor placed between them and the fleshy guts of the Rein Weissritter. After the smoke cleared the Einst machine had cracked plating across its upper arms, the shoulder armor having done its job as immediately the living machine got to work repairing itself. Green vines began to bulk underneath the damage, propping up the shoulders to the shapes they should be in as cracks began to mend bit by bit. It was a slow process but one that happened all the same.

Her eyes pondered the Mironga that had struck her as she was working on painting the Bartolls in the same pain she had been deatl, it was rushing Genion which given its refitting was better for her without a doubt and she considered it better for James as well as the fool inside was dangerously within his reach. Which now finally left her to address the 'stranger' with them.

"Well hello, I hadn't imagined you'd be here let alone alive still. I assume you believe these belong to you still?" She spoke to Aberon in tones far from the praise he may have gotten a lifetime ago.

 

[VeraC]

As Genion's sphere initiated its work, a hint of shame washed over Aberon as he found himself subject to the effects of his own creation. His gaze shifted to the rear, where so-called 'allies' fought alongside him, a pang of longing mixed with an overwhelming sense of ambition. He couldn't help but smirk, knowing that their aspirations paled in comparison to his grand design.

Now, Aberon stood as a mere mortal, shackled by the limitations of this realm, yearning to reclaim what was once his divine birthright. With each passing moment, the hunger inside him grew, urging him to seize back the power he had lost. He knew that these spheres scattered across the land held the key to his resurgence. Each one represented a fragment of his former self, and together, they could restore him to the god he once was. The thought sent a thrill down his spine, but he concealed it beneath a veneer of cool confidence.

Briefly refocusing on the incoming bartolls engaging with missiles and lasers, Aberon maneuvered the machine's arms to shield its 'pilot,' the attacks clashing with the crystalline armor. Explosions erupted, smoke and fire billowing, and the machine's forearms suffered damage, but the Zyflud Crystals instantly regenerated, a testament to his unmatched ingenuity. These insignificant foes held no allure for Aberon; his eyes were fixed on the black machine, the ominous Ox.

The Mironga fixated on Genion, oblivious to Aberon's presence. A grave error on the pilot's part, for the Zehirut posed a far greater threat than they could fathom.

Yet, before he could focus on the black machine, the grunts before him demanded swift disposal.

Without hesitation, the silhouette of the Zehirut materialized around Aberon, emanating a divine presence despite the fallen god's weakened state. The machine took form - arms, torso, legs, and head - its imposing figure commanding attention from all who bore witness.

Six Crystals coalesced around the machine, a fleeting existence shattered by ancient power. The Zehirut unleashed a cosmic purple energy, creating an expanding wave of destructive force. All caught within the crystalline field suffered its wrath.

As the dust settled from the onslaught, Aberon's gaze shifted to the opposing black machine. His hand held the hilt of a blade, and as he willed it, a jagged and purple-edged blade emerged, growing to its full size. The blade in his hand, a manifestation of his fallen glory, felt heavy yet empowering, reminding him of the supremacy he once held.

"You've certainly enjoyed their power in the interim. Though it is nigh time they return to their rightful owner."

He was but a fraction of his former self, that was certainly true. He had come to accept this in recent times. Johanna's attempt to rile him though had been met with a cool and collected response.

"The burdens of power are heavy, do you truly believe yourself worthy?"

The air crackled with anticipation, an unspoken hunger to reclaim what was rightfully his, and an unyielding desire to harness the power that pulsed within Aberon's soul. His resolve burned with an unquenchable thirst for dominion, masked by a calculated aura of invincibility, as he readied himself to confront the mistakes that haunted him yet. The fallen god, having been reborn with a reignited sense of purpose, exuded an air of arrogant assurance. He was ready to face the darkness that lie ahead, for he knew that destiny itself would bow to his will.

 

[Hitura Rael]

Elation at downing one of their foes rang hollow. One down, many to go. One less threat to the people he was protecting. And many more to go. With luck, everything would go according to plan. But when was luck ever on his side? He grit his teeth and braced himself. Genion launched herself backward and to the side, weaving away from the hail of machine gun fire and rain of missiles. What couldn't be dodged, quick charged shots from Genion's fists took care of.

"Unwanted guest."

"Yeah, I can see that." James grumbled, Genion's arms rose to shield her chest and cockpit from the hail of needles. She came out of the assault looking like she had gone a round with a porcupine and lost severely. But the assault did not stop. She bobbed and wove to and fro in a wild zig zag pattern that encompassed both ground and air, making as unpredictible a target as possible in the face of the projectiles from Mironga.

"Not that one, idiot. THAT ONE!"

James' eyes flicked to the corner of the screen where a tiny window featuring the crystaline machine sat, nestled out of the way of the main fray. Whatever it was doing made the hairs on his arms stand on end. "Ah fuck," He swore, Genion charged forward, sluggish at first. A greasy feeling washed over him, a heartfelt lie echoed in his mind; 'You can make it, get out of range'. The resistance gave enough. Genion moved at her top speed, charging across the field and behind her a doom so pink only a six year old child would be excited to see it.

"Are you sure everything's optimal with Genion?"

"Are you sure you want to ask that question?"

The murderous tone in Merida's voice was more than enough to shut James up. "Punch or no punch, Jo?"

 

[GEAR]

With a roar like the final, bitter curse of a dying star, a wave of total destruction burst forth from the Zehirut's form. It swept over the town below - houses turned to dust, along with their inhabitants, cars burst like overripe fruit in clouds of shrapnel, the once lush and verdant countryside blackened and charred by flames. The Bartolls, slower than their contemporaries, were swept up in the destruction, their bodies cracking and warping under the surge of plasma as they buckled and snapped, sending them crashing and sparking to the ground below.

The group pursuing James were no luckier, their engines whining in protest as they attempted to keep pace with their target - only to be swept up by the wave, and sent tumbling forward, whirring and screeching incoherently as they slammed into the dirt. Their dark taskmaster, for its part, noticed the Genion fleeing, and gave only a moment's glance backward before its engines flared, sending it skyward as fast as they could carry it.



Belfast.

The sound of screams. The scent of burning land and flesh. The total and absolute destruction. All of it, painfully reminiscent of the event that had set the Curious Goat's Reactor on her strange and winding path, as it unfolded below like a blazing blossom.

Her aim was true, nailing each of the incoming Bartolls in their clumsy advance, sending them spiraling miserably back towards the ground below - but there was barely a moment to breath as the proximity alarm blared... perhaps a split second too late.

Like a howling banshee, the Mironga erupted from below, guns blazing as it rained needles on the Weissritter, closing the gap between the two machines at incredible speed as it poured endless rounds upon her, like an exploded firehose. Something in its other hand twitched - and something fired out behind it, tumbling through the air before igniting. Two blue sparks, traveling through the air, signal flares.

But for what?

For the moment. both James and Aberon had a moment to catch their breath, and survey the results of Aberon's furious strike as the two Reactors overhead engaged in a dance at the speed of sound.

 

[MKR]

She saw it in the distance, the burst of energy beginning. It would be humongous that was certain and so she needed to fall back immediately for she had no desire to be caught in the consequence of this blow and whatever ruin it may wreak as a result of one divinity's decision. With the cessation of the Bartoll's pursuit what she got instead of being harried was the full view of annihilation before her.

Her mouth began to hang as she was revisited by that moment, that terrible moment once again.

NO! her mind decried, that monster was dead! How could it pursue her waking moments thus? She surpassed it, she bore witness to its death eternal. So WHY did this waking moment remind her of it so, this- this was Belfast! This living nightmare, bartolls, destruction and a vile god. This was BELFAST. Her breaths accelerated as in an instant she beheld destruction made manifest.

Aberon's words after came to her as she gripped her head with her hands, her fingers making way for one dilating pupil to gaze through the destruction and upon the perpetrator, the monster. "Rightful?" She asked, "I've felt the pull of a sphere longing for a different master before.." Her alarms blared, as the Mironga dove onto the Rein Weissritter like a hawk on paralyzed prey.

As the rounds embedded themselves into the Weissritter it twitched visibly, the fibrous greenery underneath its plating seemingly violently reacting to the damage being inflicted, or was it something else?

"You do not deserve them..." She muttered to herself as she looked upon Aberon, only then her eye darting up to gaze upon the Mironga that assaulted her "And you-"

"DO NOT DARE REMIND ME OF THAT DAY!" She yelled, gripping the controls again. She would not be saved by a machine lesser than her, she would not be paralyzed by fear again. No- No no no no. The monsters that came to her at night, the monsters that haunted her. She would surpass them, she needed to surpass them she had surpassed them. She just needed to... Leave her fears behind, how? Discard them? Throw them in the trash, suppress them? Anything to make it go away- ah of course, she could crush anything that reminded her of it. Yes- yes that would do.

The three beam cannons on the Weissritter's arm extended, curving and took a malicious shape as their tips seemed to close in on themselves. The hand they loomed over seemed to explode in size in what could not have taken more than a moment, the entire arm even bulking up massively as within the Machine's center its Sphere glowed a distinct green. Its activation more than apparent.

The Howling Launcher in its other hand fused to the lower arm, vines wrapping around it as it was pushed into the 'flesh' of the Rein Weissritter, the entire machine growing in size. The 'claws' on its waist detaching into a second set of arms as the wings grew far beyond what they already were to keep the increasingly monstrous machine afloat. And its face, the cracks beneath its eyes that looked like tear ducts grew and expanded, its horns curled and extended. For a moment one could almost see a skeletal visage beneath the plating or- was that just an illusion by the light?

The Maiden, attached to the Howling Launcher also began to glow. The terror in her heart, the memories of Belfast. Those she was eager to share, and the Maiden could do just that for her. The horror and pain that tore her asunder, rendered her vulnerable. She would let the Ox, Aberon and anyone unfortunate enough to be nearby partake of it.

"He cannot have them, any of them." She muttered to herself, "Ox, I will keep you safe."

The hand that 'held' the launcher extended, vine-like whips shooting forth towards the Mironga to grab it and constrict it. The awaiting embrace of the lower arms fully intending to hold the machine which by now had the far superior speed in a deathly grip "James." She said in an almost detached tone.

"Be a dear and completely annihilate that fallen god. I'll be with you once I've handled this."

The Howling Launcher at that moment peeked out of the upper shoulder of the Weissritter, bullets soaring through the sky to impact the Mironga in the face as the tentacles delicately manipulated the trigger like a hand would. Leaving the distinct question, just what had become of the Weissritter?

 

[VeraC]

The aftermath of Zehirut's devastating attack painted a haunting portrait of destruction. Civilization lay shattered and crumbled, reduced to rubble and debris that bore no resemblance to its former glory. Nature, once a tapestry of vibrant colors and life, now lay in charred ruins, the once-lush greenery turned to ash by the merciless flames. The landscape, once teeming with life and activity, was now a desolate wasteland of gray and black, its beauty devoured by the insatiable appetite of destruction.

With every passing moment, the chaos seemed to echo the mournful cries of a world in agony. The air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and fire, and the mournful winds carried the haunting wails of the displaced and the bereaved. The once-proud cities now resembled ghostly silhouettes, their towering structures reduced to mere skeletal remains. The ground, once teeming with bustling life, was now a scorched canvas of suffering, a testament to the unforgiving wrath of Zehirut's power.

Despite the devastation that surrounded it, the machine remained still, as if a remorseless angel of death, sent from some divine realm to deliver its merciless reckoning upon the mortals below. Its wings, angelic-like, began to unfurl from its rear, but the waves of heat from below seemed to distort and malform its once-pristine image. The very shadows cast by the burning landscape seemed to dance around Zehirut, an eerie ballet of darkness and chaos that emphasized its ominous presence.

Within the confines of the machine, Aberon grappled with mixed emotions. The gravity of the destruction he had unleashed weighed heavily on his heart, and guilt tugged at the fringes of his conscience. The Maidens' poignant broadcast of Johanna's trauma echoed within him, fueling a sense of remorse for the actions that led to such suffering. He tried to speak, to offer solace or justification, but the woman's voice cut through, snapping him back to reality. The Spheres - his salvation in this abyss. He must grasp them, no matter the cost. From the raging storm of his emotions, a resolute desire to reclaim what was once his divine birthright burned fiercely once again. He yearned to ascend once more to the status of a god, transcending the shackles of mortality that now bound him. Amidst the ruins, Aberon's eyes settled upon the Genion, the machine closest to him. The fiery determination in his gaze masked a tumultuous storm within, a complex blend of anger, longing, and ambition.

"And you see yourself as any more deserving than I? A mere child, unable to control her temper, corrupted by foul, alien scum?"

Aberon's voice rang with disdain as he expressed his contempt for the Einst, a loathing directed at their parasitic influence, a menace that needed to be eradicated from the world.

"And what of you? Holding the power of three spheres, yet lacking the ambition to claim more. Why squander such strength?"

Aberon's gaze hardened as he turned his scrutiny towards James and the Genion, a challenge in his words, as if daring them to prove their worth.

The Zehirut's eyes flashed with menace as it circled to the right, and two crystalline shards broke off from its shoulders. A green energy ignited the edge of the small blade that formed, while a bit of crystalline arced to the left. Aberon and the machine's fragment sought to pincer the Genion, the blade poised to cut the enemy asunder, while the crystalline bit aimed to pierce through the machine's core. Aberon's determination was relentless - his path to redemption paved with greed and thirst for power.

 

[Hitura Rael]

James and Merida could do little more than watch the wave of destruction unfold before them, radiating from the Zehirut. Merida's hands fell from her covered mouth to activate the coms, "Command this is Genion; Unexpected large mech of crystal took the field and unleashed some kind of blast...that's reduced the area to ash. Advise all units to hang back, don't take the field." With her warning delivered, she leaned forward. She reached her hand out to James, hesitating just before touching his shoulder.

She had seen the face he was making before. He had a temper to him, buried deep down. It took a lot to rile him up, or something big. Last time she saw it, Ze'ev had thrown him into a berserk rage. And this time... Einfield was not here to snap him out of it.

James gripped the controls hard enough that his knuckles went white. His connection to Crab shook and snapped like spider thread in a hail storm. A wave of ice chilled his veins, his heart sank to his stomach. Below, the world lay in waste. A field of black and gray, spiderwebbed with the charred veins of still burning embers. He let go of the lie. He was not ok. This was not ok. Ice turned to burning flame, eyes narrowed and fixated upon the demon of crystal before him. Genion's armor slipped out of place, her boost lost with the lie.

"James. Be a dear and completely annihilate that fallen god. I'll be with you once I've handled this."

"With pleasure." He rumbled, voice low and dripping with malice. He was going to beat the pilot to death with his own hands if he got the chance. All he had to do was get in close and rip them right out of the cockpit. Fallen god or not, nothing gave him the right for such careless destruction! It was no better than the rest of the malevolant chaos that had descended upon the world.

Merida's hand came into his peripheral vision. He almost lashed out at her, almost flinched away. He reached back to take her hand and squeezed it tight. That's right, she was in here with him. Her hand trembled in his, was she that terrified of the other mech? No... The way she tried to pull away... it was him she was terrified of. His own friend, afraid of him. And she should be, he had already gotten her twin killed. And if he let his emotions win out here... he'd just get her killed too. And then what would happen to Jo? He had to protect her. He had to protect them both. He couldn't fly into a rage, not when people counted on him. His expression eased. Deep breaths, in with the fresh air, out with the rage. Little by little, he calmed himself.

"And what of you? Holding the power of three spheres, yet lacking the ambition to claim more. Why squander such strength?"

His grip eased on Merida's hand, this time it was she who held tight. He pulled her hand close to his face, her touch kept him grounded. Righteous fury, directed at this so called god. The burning desire to put him in his place, and yet, if the bastard took the time to address him, perhaps he could be convinced... To stand with them instead of against them. A slow nudge here, a thought and ponderance there, his emotions slid into place. Rage, sorrow amplified by the loss of a thousand thousand lives and the Maiden above... Duty, love, and mercy. Forgiveness... the scales slowly edged closer...

He didn't deserve an answer. But he'd get one. James closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. There, he found it. Balance. He had to keep his cool, protect Merida, Jo, and all the people still alive down there. Genion's armor flared back into place, controls responded with ease. Merida released his hand. The pincer maneuver met with the Genion's after image, the true machine had dodged to the side and planted its feet. A verdant glow coalsed around an angry red core before her before shooting off through three green rings, accelerating the energy as it sought it's target.

"I don't need more," He stated with all the cool calm of his station. "Strength comes in more than raw power. Strength lies in allies. I don't need to waste life by killing those who don't comply, I can gather the others to stand with me and stop the coming end. I'm not a monster like all the self proclaimed gods in this world. Are you?"

 

[GEAR]

The spreading influence of the Sorrowful Maiden swept over the Mironga, causing it to slow ever-so-slightly in its ascent, its reflexes dulled - just enough for the snapping tentacles from the Weissritter to lash over its forearm mounted gun. For a moment, the two were locked against one another, eye to eye, as the Mironga finally got a good look at its foe up close.

"Grrnngh...!" The voice of the pilot crackled to life for the first time as he gave a low groan;

"A Watcher of the Stone Circle? Here?!"

A flash of movement - and the beam sword licked out, severing the cords between them with lightning, practiced ease.

Almost as if it had done so many, many times before.

As it did so, something burst to life from its shoulder emitter - a fluttering cascade of flowing alloy, almost like energy, that followed the machine’s swing across the front of its body. The Ritter’s bullet slammed into its surface, knocking the Mironga back - but the shield, or rather, the cloak of sorts appeared to have absorbed the lion’s share of the blow.

Without even a backward glance, the thruster pylons on the units' back pivoted - and sent it into a dive at manic speed, fleeing as far and fast from the Weissritter as it could. Johanna wasn't left entirely unopposed, however - a four-set of MTDM tumbled free of the Mironga's binders before launching back up at the Einst-hybrid, aiming to smash squarely into its chest and blow it apart... this time, with far less time to react.

The Doctor, for his part, had his eyes set on a different target. Foot-down on the accelerator, it spun and arced through the air towards the battling pair below, six eyes clicking and whirring as it focused on the big one. In the distance, a pair of red flares burst into existence in the morning sky.

Message received, it seemed. He wouldn't be at a disadvantage for much longer. Until then, however…

Once again the needle gun was raised - and unleashed a rain of metal down at the Zehirut as it descended, the staggering volume of projectiles driving into the land about him as the Mironga closed ranks, as ceaseless as a mosquito.

 

[MKR]

"Ah, everyone is familiar. Wonderful." Johanna mused to herself as the Doctor fled for dear life leaving four missiles in his wake which gave her only that moment of start up to respond to, not much but still it gave her time to intervene with the cut vines. The already damaged limb soaking the majority of the damage and protecting the Sphere behind it's protection.

What a pity he escaped with his life, she would have loved to crush his spine, his bones and everything that composed the man within. But that would have to wait, no instead. The stray vines began to grow back bit by bit as the Mironga opted for a different foe instead. Of course the sheen of its protective shroud was not unknown to her. The same thing she had seen inside the Abend when its guts were ripped out, the same thing she took care for to not let touch the Rein Weissritter.
But, it gave her an idea. The sphere's attention came upon the Melting Metal, for she knew what it had been used for for her benefit. So- What if it stopped working within the Mironga?
Such was her gift to the fleeing man, destabilizing the carefully planned insides of that machine.

"Of course I am more deserving, I haven't razed any cities to the ground. Besides that which you call corruption is a blessing."

The Weissritter's wings reached out, akin to grasping the sky itself in a choking hold. Its shadow cast across the destruction the one inside so loathed and feared.
"I am the one they selected for this task, amongst even those who were selected then- the best and brightest. To them I stood out."
It swooped forwards, the wings and the Tesla Drive they directed carrying her forwards as the rifle jutted out of the almost stump that was the arm it was normally attached to, turning and aiming as it flew upwards.

Red energy coursed through the wings as they took an X pattern, hanging above all fighting like a malicious satellite one of the participants of this battle knew all too well. A single beam began firing down, aiming to pin down the Mironga and Zehirut as she gave James a non verbal heads up through their communication.
It began to rapid fire down upon the two foes, the weapon being aimed mutating a little bit with every shot as the rifle expanded, before long an extra barrel sprouting forth as the hail continued. And then, what James had been warned about, a torrent of red. A column of energy as the Howling Launcher X mode fired. Intent on burying both foes in dark red energies.

And with the two who had reminded her of her darkest day, she would bury the memory of it forever more. It and the hollowness she had felt upon the demise of Shiseiten.

 

[VeraC]

Amidst the chaos and destruction of the battlefield, Aberon became the center of attention, the ire of all directed at the devastation he had wrought. Time seemed to linger as he observed the three machines moving to converge on his own, disappointment etched on his face. He couldn't help but reflect on the nature of the humans he had created. Their ability to unite against a common threat was commendable, but their inherent aggression and desire for conflict often led them back to violence and strife once the threat had passed. It was a necessary trait, he mused, for a civilization to thrive and eventually face the dreaded Kali Yuga, but their reactive nature was worrying, a sign of their lack of foresight.

Compensating for their shortcomings fell to Aberon, for he knew the impending arrival of the Harbinger of the End demanded proactive action. But first, he needed to deal with the immediate challenges before him.

The twins emerged before him, their image flickering briefly before they unleashed their deadly Helheim. The blast struck Zehirut, but the formidable G-Territory Field managed to dissipate most of the impact. Yet, even so, the force of the blow sent the purple machine staggering sideways.

“A monster…? Is that what I’m seen as?”

Aberon mused in response to the Genion's attack.

“I simply wish to fix the mistakes I had made long ago. Save this world from absolute annihilation.”

There was a sense of desperation, of longing and of desire in his tone. It was far from a lie by any means, his ambitions were genuine.

Regaining his bearings and reposturing after Genion's blow, Zehirut turned its head to the Mironga charging in with its spray of needles, Aberon choosing to take the machine head on, charging directly into its path. The needles pierced through the G-Territory easily enough, making their mark on the body of the Zehirut. Some managed to chip and break off parts of the Zyflud Crystal, others being deflected entirely off its rigid surface.

“If being a monster is what it takes to do that, then I’ll be the greatest one there ever was.”

With a swift maneuver, Zehirut detached its blade, forming two crystalline bits that ignited with a mesmerizing green glow. As the Mironga closed in, Aberon unleashed a radiant beam of yellow and purple, its size and width easily capable of encompassing the the black machine, and subsequently, colliding with Weissritter's Howling Launcher, the two beams clashing and pushing to overpower each other.

"Though the real monster you should be wary of, Pilot of the Twins, is much closer than you realize."

Aberon warned James his attention shiftng to Johanna and the Weissritter. The once pristine machine now displayed grotesque signs of Einst corruption, and Aberon knew it wouldn't be long before she succumbed entirely.

"The Alien plague will fester and corrupt her, until she is one of them. And once she is, there will be no calling her an 'ally' anymore."

The grim prophecy hung heavy in the air, a testament to Aberon's profound understanding of the calamity unfolding before him.

 

[Hitura Rael]

"That path is for you to choose! You don't have to be a monster like the rest! You don't have to fight alone or act like a monster to save this world! Stand with us!"

Genion shifted it's stance, eyes focused on the Mironga. She jumped back, away from the crystalline mech while the twisted machine focused it's fire upon the fallen god. Jo's warnings forced a further retreat. Genion sped backward away from the impending blast radius and waited, watching, eyes on the Mironga caught between two super powers.

Aberon's prophecies were disturbing, to say the least. James' eyes flicked to Johana and her machine before flicking away under the intensity of colliding and splintering beams. They were odd, but they were them.

"You don't know that," He said, calmly. "Jo's her own person, she's strong and wise. And if she ever felt she wasn't herself anymore, I'm confident she'd ask for help. And if she does fall, I'll be there to grant her a final mercy. Her fate shouldn't be decided because of something that might happen. Alien or not, she's my friend."

When the beams settled and the dust cleared, Genion charged forward. She raised her hand as she drew closer to her target and snapped her fingers. Dimensional energy gathered around the Mironga in an instant before igniting upon it. Before the dust could settle, Genion struck out with her fists in rapid succession, first to the face, the rest to the chest of the beast, where the cockpit in all likelihood would lay. Following the flurry of blows, verdant energy surrounded Genion's fists before being discharged upon the Mironga with force. Following, a kick shrouded in dimensional energy to send Mironga flying. Genion finished with a final snap as it retreated, jeting backward away from the clash, just in case somehow the Mironga survived.

 

[GEAR]

Everything converged on one point, seemingly in a split second. The Zehirut's thrown shard of itself sliced up into the Weissritter's beam, splintering and shattering it, causing it to misfire across the battlefield in a hail of death, casting haunting shadows on all present. None were more vulnerable to this sort of attack than the Mironga, whose engines flared wildly as it tried to look in every direction at once, metal cape fluttering as bolts of burning plasma pealed off its surface.

As the tempest subsided, it peered over the lip, scanning the battlefield owlishly. Was it over?

The screech of an alarm indicated otherwise, and the Doctor had only the barest of moments to react as something enormous plowed through the dust cloud towards him, thundering like an azure rhinocerous, its whole form wreathed in pure, scintillating Dimensional Power.

"The Lunari-!"

WHUNCH.

With a noise like the crumpling of the world's largest tin can, James fist struck true, crashing into the spiky face of the Mironga. A spray of something boiling, glowing liquid fountained from its crushed tubing as it reeled, splattering across the Genion's surface like burning blood. The second strike caught it in the midsection, bending it almost double as its back snapped like a twig, only to be jettisoned away by the combination of force and a swift kick to the abdomen.

Broken and sparking, it tumbled through the air before the snap of the Genion's fingers echoed across the battlefield - a minute, emerald glimmer that was rewarded with a bursting explosion, and a static-flecked scream of pain.

Knocked far from the group, the Mironga - or rather, what was left of it - tumbled haplessly across the earth until it came to a rolling stop. Steam - pure heat poured off its crumpled body, now coated in the same glistening liquid, like molten lava, that pulsed eerily. Even that which had spilled across James' armor seemed to quicken and soften, as though it had a heartbeat of its own. There was, however, not long to take into account the nature of what transpired.

A distant, yet familiar whistling filled the air-

And explosions ripped across the battlefield, a hail of missiles slamming down around the combatants. Their foe's call for help had not gone unheard, as Terra Sentinel's forces began to converge.

Closing rapidly overhead was the form of two Stork Class assault carriers, their looming, avian silhouettes framed against the morning sun as they released their payloads, cannons already starting to draw beads on the machines below. Accompanying them were the distinct shapes of even more Bartolls, nearly twice as many as before, Boost Drives howling as they landed, one after another in perfect formation, four sets of five. They took in the destruction, and the piles of scrap that made up their peers, wordlessly.

Who could tell what kind of intelligence lurked behind those eyes?

 

[MKR]

Aberon's words did not give her pause, but did make her contemplate. For all she knew, she had not looked into the part of her that had mended nor the ones who did that. What could she find if she did, that was the real question but not one for now. For currently she beheld the majestic devastation wreaked upon the Mironga, Aberon having used the Ox's reactor as a shield for himself.

The finishing flurry that followed allowed her to take in the sight of destruction, the machine flung across the field but as she immediately noticed, its sphere had not dislodged. The man inside yet lived, a miracle in and of itself were he flesh and blood. The reinforcements had to wait their turn, the most important matter was at hand. Aberon, the monster that he was, could not be allowed to reclaim that part of him.

"James-" She called out, hopefully making her intent clear to have him interfere with anything the fallen deity would do to claim this sphere as his own.

A canister of split missiles fired, aimed at the ground before the Zehirut with a simple goal to kick up dirt, block line of sight and should he rush forward impede his movement as the Howling Launcher immediately turned towards the flung foe, the Goat, purloiner of vulnerabilities would give her the insight of where to direct her shot to bypass the Melting Metal that coated the Mironga like a layer of frosting should it provide the protection it did prior.
And with that, the beam shot outwards. E mode activated in a fate sealing pursuit. Her quickest weapon, working at exceptional range and already primed to fire.

As it did the powers that had mutated the Rein Weissritter faded, its embiggened arm pulsing as it shrank bit by bit returning to normal once more. The damaged limb likewise stopped being a mess of vines and returned to its normal, clawed form. A highly damaged but intact hand now holding the trigger of the Howling Launcher. The mutation that had taken the Rein Weissritter fully faded moments later as it stood there, damaged but 'normal'. Explosions racking the battlefield courtesy of Terra Sentinel.

Having regained its true speed, she directed the Einst machine towards the Mironga as the beam concluded. Swooping down back to ground level to claim the prize she believed hers, she had extracted a pearl of power from a similar state before and was not afraid to do so again should it be needed. Only after this was handled would she pay proper heed to the reinforcements sent by Terra Sentinel as they were far away and not a problem yet, whereas Aberon's potential to take the item before her was real and not an opportunity she should give.

 

[VeraC]

Aberon's high-stakes gamble appeared to have borne fruit as the Mironga expertly intercepted the Howling Launcher's onslaught, and the Twins' code of justice directed their aggression towards the Ox rather than himself. Dispersed like an abandoned puppet, Aberon observed the Ox's descent to the ground, inert yet still possessed of life's faintest pulse.

He could feel it. That thing. His Sphere.

It beckoned to him like an irresistible promise, a long-lost treasure finally within his reach. The moment hung in the air, laden with destiny and desperation. To reclaim his sphere, to seize back what was rightfully his - this was his sole purpose now, a singular focus that eclipsed all else. The stakes were unfathomable; he had lost these precious Spheres once, and he would not allow history to repeat itself, especially not at the hands of his own creations. The Rein Weissritter, fueled by her own tenacious desire to possess the Ox, dared to obstruct his path. However, this challenge only served to underscore his superiority, as he remained unwaveringly committed to overcoming it.

"I won't let you!"

His voice, a deep rumble, carried his unyielding resolve. It was a declaration that transcended the cacophony of battle, a proclamation that he would not be thwarted.

Missiles surged toward him, an orchestrated symphony of destruction orchestrated by the new reinforcements and the Weissritter. Yet, all of it was a mere distraction, mere background noise, as Aberon's focus remained fixed on the sphere. The missiles were an inconsequential nuisance; his eyes saw only the sphere's luminescence. With the unstoppable force of a vengeful deity, he advanced, his machine a fortress of purpose against the explosive onslaught. The G-Territory field, a sentinel of indomitable will, shattered the onslaught of incoming missiles like a vengeful revenant. With an aura of relentless determination, it thwarted the projectiles' feeble attempts, scattering their fiery remnants like ashes in the wind. Yet, some managed to breach its formidable defenses, leaving behind scars that marred the once-pristine surface of the crystalline armor, a testament to the unyielding battle it waged against the forces of destruction. Undeterred, Aberon pressed forward, a man consumed by a singular obsession - to possess his sphere.

「Sieben Gebote!」

His voice thundered through the chaos, an invocation that carried the weight of his millennia of existence.

Raw energy erupted from the Zehirut, a radiant burst that obliterated the obstacles that dared obstruct his path. A momentary rift in the chaos revealed an ephemeral glimpse of Aberon's ancient essence, a reflection of the god he had once been. Amidst the blinding flashes of energy and the thunderous clashes of metal, his demeanor transformed, emanating an aura of otherworldly majesty. The lines etched upon his face seemed to deepen, carrying the weight of eons of existence, while his eyes, usually burdened with the concerns of mortality, glinted with a spark of the divine knowledge he once held. In that fleeting instant, as if an ethereal curtain had been pulled aside, Aberon's machine stood not as a mere construct of metal and crystal, but as a conduit through which the echoes of his past self radiated - a testament to the power he once commanded and the dominion he sought to reclaim. Aberon's mastery over gravitational forces manifested in a cataclysmic culmination. The battlefield itself seemed to bend and warp under the weight of his authority, a crucible where power converged with inevitability. The very geometry of reality obeyed his decree as gravitational tides converged around the Mironga, an irrefutable force intent on reshaping the machine's fate.

Enveloped within the grasp of Zehirut's crystalline palm, the unrelenting force of Aberon's purpose coiled like a serpent, tightening its grip with merciless resolve. The very atmosphere quivered in submission, forging an unseen vice that bore down upon the Mironga with an unyielding ferocity. The once-proud machine, a pinnacle of human innovation, now lay ensnared in Aberon's wrathful clasp, a victim to his voracious hunger for rebirth. As the convergence of power reached its crescendo, reality itself yielded to his dominion, and Aberon emerged as a relentless deity of wrath, a living testament to his ruthless crusade to reclaim his divine supremacy.

And all those who dared question his supremacy would meet a fate no less resolute.

 

[Hitura Rael]

The dust settled. Mironga lay in a battered and broken heap on the ground. Silver pooled around the monstrous machine, no longer a threat. Heat and dimensional energy roiled off of Genion, shimmering in the air. It was over, a threat eliminated. Now, it was up to Johanna to claim it.

Fear swallowed any relief James felt. Something felt... wrong. In the span of a single heart beat, Genion's plating slid out of place and she sank to a knee. It was all James could do to guide her through the crushing wave bearing down on his soul before it engulfed him in darkness with only the fearful whimper fit for a child to protest.

James was not the only one to feel that fear, though it was not quite so intense. Merida watched helplessly while James struggled to move the controls, gripping them so tight she was sure he'd break something, before he slumped forward, unconcious and darkness swallowed the cockpit. "No- No no no, don't you fucking dare-" She tapped away on the screen. All three of the spheres were dark, unresponsive. A backup battery had been installed, just in case at her insistence, and now she would rub it in the naysayer's faces if they survived.

The lights flickered back on as the systems swapped over. It wouldn't take long, but it felt like an eternity in this situation. She leaned over to press her finger's to James' neck and confirm his racing pulse before slapping him on the face several times, "Wake up, come on, wake up you mad idiot!" Fear left a quiver in her voice, for herself and her friend.... and whatever came next.

"Damnit," She hissed and sat back in her seat. "Ok, you can do this. You've piloted her before..." Merida took a deep breath and took the secondary controls in hand. Genion's eyes flashed dull and rose to her feet. Her hand rose and released the signal flare to the sky. Merida sent a silent message to the Weissritter, a single word; "Retreating -M". All she could do now was wait and retreat if necessary.