“…Are those…ICBMs?” The Sixth Eidolon asked himself aloud, standing on the bridge of the Ward.

  “Sir?” Captain Hernandez asked warily.

  Rylen couldn’t believe what he was seeing, “Get closer to the Tuonela as you pass above.” He directed to Ren, then looked to the ship’s commander, “Several long-range ballistic missiles appear to have been launched from Oceanside. I need trajectories and potential targets now.”

  The man was already getting communications from outside, “Sir…if it’s the same shots that were just reported by the orbital team watching the Tuonela, they appear to be heading straight to Agartha.”

  “…A-Agartha!?” The Sixth echoed in disbelief. His mind immediately went to Xanarken, and he grit his teeth in a quiet, seething anger, “How could Kitez have developed this kind of technology without anyone knowing!?”

  Beyond the forward screen, light flitted throughout the sky as swarms of drones and firepower seethed against one another. The Ward’s shield strobed with every impact, blocking most of the incoming attacks, but every time they saw a green line of light, the ship’s crew braced for an actual strike. The hull outside was like the face of a large, abyss-dwelling whale; scratched and clawed by the myriad creatures of the deep.

  One such line manifested, pointing directly at the bridge, and with reckless abandon, several drones quickly flew into the path of fire and took the brunt of the shot themselves. A flicker of the beam still hit the shield and pierced through, and it left a 27ft gash along the exterior. The area shuddered, but held, and a few seconds later, the Ward fired back, sending three large pulses towards the darkened source of the beam. If the target had a shield capable of resisting, it burnt-up from the sheer size of the energy-ball, like a comet evaporating in the heat of a star.

  “We need quicker response-times on counter-fire!” Rylen barked, “Medium-range cannons, focus on identifying and disabling those ships before they can set sights!”

  The fleet pressed on.

  .

  The four Fafnir crested the cloud-cover as they homed-in on the source of the lights and smoke, and came down and out of high-speed flight to an approach-velocity. Barely visible but for the shadows they cast in front of the moons, they spotted the full and terrible sight of the Tuonela – the Duchess’ Vindicator – hovering over the city like a massive cloud of steel and trepidation.

  “Jense and Ravan, coast overtop of the launch silos. Get the Sixth his visual. Corbin, with me.” Ren ordered, and with a quick ‘ma’am!’ from all three, they divided into pairs. The former veered up slightly to go overtop of the vessel while the latter descended to go under it, getting the mission’s first glance at the administrative and palatial districts since the behemoth had parked above them. Spotlights shone up at the underside of the metal beast, revealing the literal field of anti-gravity arrays that had been installed along it like so many barnacles. The Fafnir wove carefully to avoid being caught directly in the light, “Doesn’t look like anything on the ground has recently been altered, but the lack of people is weird. How’s it look above?”

  Ravan lifted a hand to the side of her helmet – not that anyone could see it, “There aren’t any silos up here. But…” She started, looking down at the massive, rotating, satellite-dish array that was opened to the sky at the upper-front of the ship. At the center of the dish was a large, green, glassy orb, the size of a large van, and just as Ravan passed above it, it began to glow. She immediately veered off to the side, and watched dubiously as multiple lines of green light converted on the orb, blinding and brilliant. The sound of it alone, charging up in pulses, created a vibration that made the Fafnir cloaking mechanism destabilize in waves, rippling and penetrating through to the Knights themselves. Ravan shrieked in pain and surprise, and quickly darted away, with Jense following after her. He paused only long enough to turn around and watch five star-like pulses of energy get launched into the sky, this time arcing slightly east as they vanished into the clouds. The eerie sight of that green glow, passing above the canopy, was like watching the approach of a fel-meteor, careening off to crash somewhere far afield.

  “…It’s heading for the southern advance!” Jense called out, “Ren!”

  “Lord Rylen, the next volley is coming your way! If they aren’t targeting you, they’ll pass directly overhead!” She forwarded.

  “I see them. The orbital above Oceanside has changed assignments until the Tuonela is out of the way.” He answered, “Carry on with your primary mission.”

  “Sir!”

  There was a slight delay in further communication as Rylen focused on a report being given to him by someone else, but when he returned, his tone had shifted to a particular sense of urgency, “All Fortresses with the northern and southern groupings; redirect long-range cannons towards those ICBMs. Intercept before they can go by. They’re heading for Agartha and Trazad. They cannot be allowed to reach."

  Ren was stunned, “She’s shooting at Agartha? From all the way out here?” She said, mostly to herself. The line to the others wasn’t open, and she wasn’t about to distract them with the possibilities by spreading rumors. She saw that Rylen had muted the call after that – likely to avoid distracting her himself – and continued that descent towards the palatial grounds.

  “Ren, shouldn’t we ask if he wants us to try and break the array?” Jense asked cautiously.

  “No, we aren’t to deviate from our directive under any circumstances. The Duchess cannot know we’re here. The Prince’s life is entirely in our hands; let the fleet take care of the rest.” She answered, “Everyone head to your preassigned landing spots. Avoid high-visibility areas and report back if your sites aren’t suitable.”

  The palace was, from above, a single-story building, with a number of surface-level gardens, segmented courtyards, and covered walkways. It was widely-known, however, that most of that sprawling gothic complex was beneath the ground, with a rear section that opened up overlooking the rocky beach. The throne room itself was directly in the center, on the middle floor, with a long staircase that came down from the higher front entrance. The Fafnir hovered around different access points, moving quietly in the dark, though the prevailing eeriness of the lack of people was giving each of them the creeps.

  “I’m in position on the northern terrace. No activity.” Ravan noted, “There’s something super wrong about all this…”

  “Not entirely.” Corbin answered, and carefully came down along an exterior wall, keeping his shadow as small as possible, “If I knew Lord Rylen had an orbital cannon and I was about to kick a hornet’s nest at him, I’d probably retreat underground, too.”

  “Touché.”

  “Clear comms.” Ren interrupted, coming down along the middle-rear side. The opening into the palace was like a neatly-designed cave, with pillars that seemed to be carved directly from naturally-forming speleothems.

  “I’m ready at the front.” Corbin said instead, “No activity.”

  “Southern side is also quiet.” Jense added, “I can see two rooms deep; I don’t see any guards posted, no servants, nothing at all.”

  “Making entry.” Ren said, and stepped quietly around a delicately-forged rock column.

  Lights still flickered in the wall-sconces, but for the most part, the area looked as though it had been rather carefully picked-up, like the tenants had moved away and had been planning to do so for some time. The overlay on her eyes flashed through a few different view-types – infrared, thermal, ultraviolet, among others – each trying to find any potential form of security barrier. Nothing was being picked-up though.

  The sound of the Vindicator shooting-off another volley was enough to make Ren twitch though, and she glanced up, seeing the reflection of those green orbs dancing on the water before quickly vanishing. She turned her focus back to the task at hand, and yet…with one more step, she suddenly felt a shudder go through her, and her overlay completely shut off. The sconces seemed to flicker a little, and Ren looked down towards the ground, seeing the distinct image of a fine dust wafting around her now-exposed bright-scarlet boots like the smoke of dry ice, …Shit…was that an EMP? Why would they use one now? The World Cloud’s nearest edge is still a couple of hours away… She looked around quickly, Do they somehow know we’re here already?

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  High above, Far’nah was escorted to an above-bridge observation deck, where she could easily track the progress of her campaign on a wide floor-to-ceiling screen. She approached a large, round, table-like apparatus close to the front of the room, and with a familiar button-click, she reached down to the bridge, “Did it work?”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” She heard in response, “The Fafnir are exposed.”

  “Very good. Let’s keep them occupied. No doubt, they’re here for the Prince.” She answered, and let the line go. She loosely clasped her hands together as she awaited the next phase, “Those arrogant pricks are so easy to predict. Rylen really needs to let others strategize for him…” She set those hands onto the ridged edge of that table then, and peered within, seeing a holographic image of the Vindicator above her city, and zoomed out to see the whole of the country. The approaching three fleets were easy to spot and assess, and so too were her own forces in response to them. She singled-out one of her Magistrates, and put a call directly to him, “Reg, you were right. The Fafnir came here in advance. Your idea to wait until they arrived to turn on the shield was too clever by half. Now…you said you were looking for one of them in particular?”

  “Yes, Your Grace.” Regulus answered, “A woman with red armor.”

  Far’nah patched the footage of Ravan getting zapped, “Is it this one?”

  “No, Your Grace. But I’ll kill that one all the same.”

  “They’re at the palace.”

  Ren’s futile attempts at restarting her HUD were abandoned, and she pressed against a wall, I have to assume the others were struck as well, and we’re basically radio-silent… Proceeding with the mission. She stepped carefully away from the wall and moved through the open dining-hall to where it led within the rock at the rear. Stone was cut into elaborate carvings – though Ren didn’t have time to stop and admire them, they depicted Kitez’s founding and honored its past rulers – and eventually tapered towards a wall of black metal and clear-glass windows, with an archway and a door.

  The glass itself was distorted, making it granular and difficult to see through, even up close. Being that those windows and door faced towards the rising sun every morning, scattering the light would make it less intense to look through. In that moment, however, it just made Ren’s job a little harder, and she made her way towards the door. To her surprise, it did not appear locked. A cursory glance around informed her that the entryway was typically guarded, as there were two spaces – one on each side – where the stone flooring had a slightly smoother texture than that of the areas closer to the walls; soldiers who normally stood at their posts had worn it down over the centuries.

  Ren carefully opened the door and pulled it out towards herself, and stuck her head just far enough through as to get a look around. As before, there wasn’t a soul to be seen amidst the sights of recent habitation, although the large indoor dining area had looked more like a theater-set piece for its lack of being set-up in any meaningful way. For all its elaborate intent, it was rather bland now, all the finery taken away.

  She pulled the door closed and latched it quietly behind her, then carefully tip-toed through. She knew that if anyone was looking at her, it was game-over for the element of surprise, but as long as she still had walls around her, she maintained the concept of sneaky infiltration. Without nanotech though, she was blind, and the task became to figure out the lay of the land without any kind of A.I. assistance.

  Kitez’s palace was once more of a fort or stronghold than a residence, so it stands to reason that there are holding-cells at the bottom of this place, she thought, looking around for anything that might indicate a stairwell or other kind of vertical passage.

  At the front-end of the palace, Corbin was having a slightly different experience. As soon as his HUD went offline, and his stealth went with it, the front-doors off the estate opened, and he found himself in the sights of the first line of defense.

  Or offense, as he was about to find out.

  “Land, Fafnir!” Corbin heard, though from which of the infantry-drones, he wasn’t sure. Hands went up, but he was sure to reactivate the solid-light paneling of his wings as he descended; if he was going to get shot-at, he was going to look good while it happened. Armored feet touched-down to the long, wide stairs of that palatial entry-hall, and Corbin took stock of his targets. There were two humanoid-looking drones, four hovering copter-droids, and two large cannon-like ballistae pointed directly at him. Someone was watching what they were seeing, but whether they were close by or further afield was the question.

  Corbin stared for a moment longer, but as soon as he spotted that each of the drones was locking onto him, he was a blur of silver-grey and dark blue. Laser-fire and pulsars shot forward, but so too did the wide, arcing slashes of a pair of plasma-edged sword-blades. Infantry – mechanized or not – was no match for a Fafnir Knight, and Corbin made short-work of the preliminary assembly. The corridor was a ruin from the friendly-fire, but the Fafnir could only look back in dire awe, The way the Kitezans are behaving is really starting to feel like a big trap… It was one thing to evacuate the surface levels in case of an attack from the orbital, but to be this eager to fire on their own territory? He thought to himself, and glanced up at the cracked roof. Bits of it were starting to come loose and fell around him, Why do I have a feeling the Prince isn’t even going to be here? If we don’t start finding more resistance on the lower levels, we should pull back in case drawing us down there was the point.

  From the ‘sides’ of the palace – at the northern and southern ends of that western-facing complex – Ravan and Jense were both quickly-able to find ways lower into the ground. Ravan was the first to find one of the side-entrances to the throne room…and the Sovereign Shadow waiting therein. She gasped quietly at the sight of it.

  .

  “This is Magistrate Regulus Laurier.” Ren had explained on the way over, and showed the trio imagery from her stint in the Connington Fragment, “This is the guy that beat the ever-living Hell out of me when I was trying to help get Seth out of Kitez.”

  “That’s the guy who tore your arm off?” Jense asked darkly.

  “He’s also the guy that former Captain Rydell faced-off against in the Exclusion Zone, 22 years ago. He is not to be underestimated. He’s Kitez’s foremost warrior, and that mech is one of a kind. Even in close-quarters, with movement restrictions impeding such a big machine, he was still damn near impossible to attack directly. The armor is thick…and after encountering him twice now, I have to wonder if it wasn’t specifically designed to fight us.”

  .

  Ravan felt a pit in her gut, ‘Whatever you do,’ Ren’s voice echoed in her mind, ‘Do not fight him alone.’

  Did he see me come in!? The older Fafnir wondered frantically, and was answered rather quickly in the affirmative. The Sovereign Shadow’s strange, thin, angular head lifted and turned her way, the black, glassy face highlighting a bright-blue ripple across it, as though a radar seeking something.

  “Welcome to Kitez, Fafnir.”

  Plasma kukris came out in a blink, and Ravan took a defensive posture with both blades up, “You’re bigger in person.”

  The throne-room was rather dimly lit, the Fafnir noticed. Eyes quickly darted around at what was barely-visible, but for the most part, it was shadows and amorphous shapes. What little had been reported from the Fourth’s brief meeting at the palace, she knew there was a pergola in the middle of the room, with the throne-platform between it and the western wall, but with such a massive mecha parked inside, every inch counted. To her surprise, that dark blue metal slowly began to glow, until the entire room was bathed in a light cerulean, giving it an eerie, dream-like ambiance.

  One of those massive new arms came up, and its claws expanded, revealing the muzzle of a cannon in its palm…as well as that fel-green illumination as it powered up.

  The rumble of that explosion could be felt throughout the palace, but with each of them being in such wildly different places, it was hard to pin down where it came from or what had caused it. With comms down, it was that much more anxiety-driving, as none of them could tell who it was that had likely borne witness to whatever the attack was.

  Ren had at least found a descending passageway, but the maze seemed to be leading her away from where she wanted to go, and she quietly cursed herself. Another rumble passed through the ground, and the wall-sconces flickered, threatening to plunge the halls into complete darkness.

  And then, frightfully, made good on that threat.

  .

  Gabriel stood vigil nervously on the bridge of the Buckler, listening quietly as the invasion went on all around him. Not knowing what was going on with the Fafnir was starting to feel like a stick in his craw, though, and he turned towards Captain Landon, “Is there some specific reason why Rylen took himself over to the Ward when he was here earlier?”

  Careful eyes glanced up at the new Eidolon, “With respect, Lord Gabriel…it’s because of you.”

  That earned a look, and Gabriel frowned before turning back towards the main screen, “Because of me.” He echoed, “Rude.”

  “I don’t think he meant it as a slight, sir.” Captain Landon explained, keeping track of the ICBM-pulses that were about to come into view in the skies overhead, “Consider it an acknowledgement of your station; he’s leading the charge on the Ward so you can come safely behind.”

  “We’re in range now, Captain.” A crewman announced, “Ready on your order.”

  “Shoot everything.”

  Every middle-range cannon on the dorsal hull was already aimed towards the sky, and with that, started firing rapidly. Pulses of white-hot energy led the ICBMs on an intercept-course. Crew held their breath as they waited for the outcome.

  Cloud-cover shimmered with a subtle illumination, like lightning echoing off the heavens. The echoes intensified as the sound of crackling filled the night, followed by a deep, resonating boom, and the clouds abruptly burst outward. A massive, mile-wide gap opened above the Ward far in the distance, making the area brighten as if the sun itself had suddenly come out. Four starbursts in succession rampaged over the ship, making it – and everyone aboard – shake from the impact. The whole thing listed to its starboard, feeling each push like it was being shaken in the wind as nothing more than a leaf.

  When it finally ended…the fifth blast landed.

  The green orb hit the ground with the fury of a nuclear weapon, flashing brightly as everything within a half-mile of the epicenter just…vanished. The ground itself shattered and became like molten glass, and the shockwave – rushing out from the center of the triangle that the trio of SkyFortresses made for their advance – hit all three like a rockslide.