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Book 6: Chapter 8 - To the Dogs (RAW)
🕑 Added 2025-05-24 13:44:41 +0000 UTC“When alloy first embraced living sinew, the makers discovered a mercy as cruel as any blade: a soldier that need not believe to obey. Spliced from the long-friends of man, canines, and the tireless calculus of the machine, the bio-drone knows only the command impulse that birthed it. For to question is a luxury reserved for those still wholly of the flesh.”
- Compiled by the GAI [General Artificial Intelligence] of the Archivists Guild, On the Doctrine of Integrated Warforms.
Through the distant porthole in the craft’s dimly lit interior, my eyes caught sight of an emerald expanse lying perilously close to the fringes of a vast, sun-scorched desert. Intrigued, I turned to Sol for answers, only to receive from her an annoyingly cryptic reply.
"That's the Forest," she said casually, as though the mere mention should inspire awe and fear in equal measure. "A place overrun with bizarre 'Vader creatures you wouldn't want to meet, even in nightmares."
Instant regret washed over me. I cared little for such exposition.
As she continued, I turned away, my thoughts drifting to the hope of freedom. Once this mission was completed, I could break free from this prison of ancient memories and remembrance. I could feel it in my gut that the answers to completing this Trial of the Goddess lay in the underground facility.
The pilot smoothly guided the craft lower, skimming precariously close to the terrain with preternatural skill. Below, strange, agile creatures scattered in all directions, their bodies weaving intricate patterns as they splashed through pools shimmering in unnatural hues. This peculiar part of wasteland was aptly named "The Spills," an abandoned dumping ground from ancient times.
Observing the eerie desolation stretching beneath us, I understood exactly why someone would hide a secret laboratory in this forsaken place. Few would dare set foot here willingly.
"ETA in five minutes," the pilot announced crisply, his voice devoid of emotion.
Thus far, his combination of remarkable skill and gambler’s fortune had allowed us to evade detection. Knowing we still retained the precious element of surprise, my confidence grew.
"Alright, one final rundown," Solarin declared in a chipper voice, projecting a glowing holographic map from her suit’s arm. It flickered vibrantly in the craft's muted interior, casting eerie shadows. "We're skipping the clichéd stealthy sewer approach and opting instead for a daring full frontal assault led by one person. I'll position myself here, on these cliffs, and move here and here." Her fingers danced deftly over the hologram. "I'll provide covering fire, along with emotional support, should things get dicey."
Slowly, deliberately, I raised my visor, fixing her with a flat, expressionless stare. Her cheerfulness felt grating, yet oddly reassuring.
She ignored my silent rebuke, continuing swiftly, "According to Voss intel, the facility's security predominantly comprises Ingram Sec Drones. They're formidable but manageable."
"Certainly nothing beyond your capabilities," interjected Casia calmly over the comms. "They're restricted to an autonomous local network—no GAI backing them up. Expect standard tactica doctrines."
"Exactly," Solarin added breezily.
"Look out the window," Casia suggested, her voice calm yet edged with an unspoken tension. "The Dragon Flight is making its move."
Curiosity piqued, I peered through the portal once more. Far away, an immense formation surged gracefully across the sky like a massive flock of predatory birds. In response, brilliant incandescent bolts surged from the city’s defenses, lighting up the heavens in fiery explosions. The sight was mesmerizing, a storm of violent beauty.
"Approaching designated landing site," the pilot announced mechanically. "Prepare for disembarkation."
The craft trembled gently as the engines swiveled downward, gradually slowing our speed. With expert precision, we descended smoothly behind a jagged outcropping. The landing was so delicate, so precisely executed, that I scarcely felt the impact.
With a deep, resonating groan, the craft’s bay doors slid open, revealing a stark, desolate landscape stretching endlessly before us was a rocky vista dominated by sand and stone, the wind whispering across its wastes.
Solarin surged ahead, her Nex suit moving with a grace that defied my expectations. I had imagined a hulking, clanking behemoth, but her form was swift and almost delicate, the whirr of its internal machinery as soft as a whisper. The cloak draped over her Tartalos shimmered with an uncanny light, its folds shifting like liquid silk. For an instant, the fabric refracted and absorbed the harsh desert sunlight, its hues melting seamlessly into the ochres and rusts of the surrounding sand and jagged rock.
The sand and gravel crunched beneath my heavier boots as I clambered out of the transport. I inhaled deeply, drawing in a harsh blend of sun-baked minerals and the faint, acrid tang of something unnatural. Chemicals, perhaps, or toxins that lingered unseen.
“Moving to position,” Solarin’s voice crackled over the comm as her Nex unit bounded forward, each long stride devouring distance like a predator unleashed.
Suddenly, my visor flickered. A topological map unfolded in front of my vision, lines and contours forming a labyrinthine network. I blinked, momentarily disoriented. What sorcery was this?
“Finally got the interface calibrated with your neural uplink,” Casia’s voice explained crisply. “Don’t expect too much granularity precision, but it should give you a basic overview of enemy locations. The facility itself is an underground warren—you’ll need these to help navigate.”
A path traced itself across the map, a garish line overlaid as a convenient trail marker to the north-east. Yellow paint, I scowled. Idiot-proof navigation. Still, I adjusted my course and fell into a steady stride, my movements punctuated by the dull crunch of shifting sands.
Casia’s voice returned, faintly distorted by static. “I think they might have picked up something. Scout bio-drones inbound on your position, Gilgamesh. Sol, you good?”
“I’d rather not reveal our position until necessary,” Solarin replied, her tone tight. “Still pulling down the data projections.”
“Good thinking,” Casia conceded. “A shot from your weapon would broadcast an obvious attack from another organization. If Gilgamesh can neutralize them discreetly, it might look like a Mutibeast from the Forest.”
Pathetic, I thought, sneering to myself.
“Very well. I’ll handle them,” I declared, a growl curling at the edges of my voice.
“These drones are lightly armed and armored…”
“I said I will handle them. They will not be my match. Do not spoil the surprise.”
With a sardonic twist of my lips, I unslung my bow from my back. The weight of the Adamantine alloy felt solid in my hands, the string as taut as the coiled rage in my chest. My stride slowed into a measured jog. Soon. Soon, I would be free, and Alexandros would burn for his treachery.
Solarin’s voice cut through the comms, her tone dripping with skepticism. “I have no idea what you think you’ll accomplish with that primitive-looking toy.”
“Sometimes the simplest solutions are the most elegant,” I countered, voice low and dangerous. “As are weapons.” I notched a solid iron bolt from my quiver, its tip glinting dully in the unforgiving light.
It was not long before I spotted them, just as Casia had described. A pack of five, they moved low and swift over the sand, quadropedal forms scuttling like nightmarish beasts. Yet, at their core, they were unmistakably mechanical. Turret-like tubes jutted from atop their midsections, swiveling with predatory precision. They looked to me like versions of Solarin’s own armament in miniature.
I drew my bow back and loosed. At two hundred meters, it was an extremely difficult shot. Predictably, the bolt missed its intended mark, veering wide. Yet, where precision failed, fortune intervened. The shaft impacted against one of the drone’s packmates, detonating in a burst of raw kinetic force.
You have slain unknown. 27 experience gained.
Almost immediately, the survivors scattered, the reaction woefully predictable. I felt a flicker of disdain. This world offered me nothing but weak adversaries, unworthy of the effort it took to end them. There was no challenge, no thrill of battle here. Only a grim chore. It did not bring me joy.
But it did bring me experience.
I inhaled sharply and summoned Sage’s Sight, no longer focusing on a single target but on the moment itself. My awareness expanded, brushing against the hidden truths woven into the fabric of existence. Time, space, and possibility unfolded before me in delicate layers.
The act of aiming became effortless. As I drew back the bowstring, the fragments of potential futures realigned themselves before my eyes, the improbable eliminated, the inevitable revealed. I saw the one path that would strike true, the arrow’s course inevitable before it left my grasp.
I loosed.
The drone burst apart in a violent spray of shrapnel and sparks.
You have slain Unknown. 27 experience gained
A low, predatory hum vibrated through the thinning veil of dust and shrapnel as the last two drones broke formation and knifed across the sand. Their limbs churned up plumes, their red optics flaring crimson.
I sighed, drawing a fresh bolt in one fluid motion. Sage’s Sight flared, latticing the air with silver filaments of possibility. Thousands of trajectories shimmered for an instant, then collapsed into one. I loosed.
The arrow sliced through the heat-blur, punching straight through the nearer drone’s mid-section. Metal convulsed, sparks geysered, and the machine folded like a maimed, metallic scorpion.
You have slain Unknown. 27 experience gained
The lone survivor swung wide, accelerating into a circling sprint, its muzzle whirring as it locked on to me. It’s weapon barked, and though I saw this outcome before it even happened, I did not even bother to dodge. Sparks flared on my shoulder armor as its shot projectile was deflected by my armor of black and gold. Fifteen points worth of damage. A strong man with a sword from Gesthe could have done more.
This one was not worth the arrows.
I slung my bow across my back and broke into a headlong sprint, armored sabatons hammering the ground. Another round screamed by, close enough that I imagined I could feel its passing. The drone’s weapon barked again; short, savage claps that stitched a blazing line across my breastplate. I felt these, felt each impact. Felt myself being pushed back every slightly, but only ever so slightly.
Fifty paces, then forty.
The drone skittered sideways, trying to keep distance, its barrel weapon spinning so quickly that its muzzle flashed like a strobe. Copper sparks flew where slugs struck rock and ricocheted in shrieking arcs. I angled left, then cut hard right. The machine over-corrected. Targeting servos whined, half a second behind my momentum. Too slow.
Thirty paces, then twenty.
With Improved Dash, boots grinding stone to grit, I launched myself forward. Time narrowed to the hammer-beat of my pulse. My gauntlet, an unyielding Adamantine hammer, swung in a crushing hook. Guided by the invisible mathematics of the moment, there could only be one conclusion.
Impact.
Metal shrieked under the blow. The drone’s frontal armor crumpled like foil, internal struts snapping with a wet crunch. Momentum carried my fist straight through to the core. Grasping, I pulled out everything that my fingers could find within in an explosion of viscera painted in greens and pinks.
You have slain Unknown. 27 experience gained
Silence returned, broken only by the desert wind sighing across the defeated metal of my would-be foes. Slowly, with its soothing song, my pulse began to settle.
A sense of emptiness began to claim me.
Solarin’s voice crackled through the comm, tinged with reluctant admiration. “Well, that was brutal. Looks like that thing you're using actually got a bit of a punch to it.”
“No challenge,” I replied, slipping the bow across my back. “If these were their sentries, the depths must house something worthier.”
“Let’s keep a move on while we have the element of surprise,” she urged. “The drones were running on autonomous patrol loops—pure luck for us. The main access tunnel and gates are just ahead.”
“Very well. A quick question on my part, these things… they are alive?
“Well, partially… ” she answered after a pause. “They’re grafted to a bio-core grown from canine tissue. Basically, a little wetware glued to a lot of metal. Does that bother you?”
“I was killing puppies… no wonder I faced no challenge. And no, no problem at all.”
“Understood. In that case, you probably should brace yourself,” Solarin warned. “Because remember that element of surprise? Well, we just kind of lost it. Gran’s picking up with fresh hostiles converging on your position. From their signatures… they are probably going to be more than just scout drones.”
Comments
Hussar L
Poor puppies lol
