The sky above Vellmont burned with the echoes of war. Smoke curled into the heavens, streaked with the glow of molten ruin. Beneath it, three warriors stood against a legend.

  Soldraknirr hovered in the air like a gilded executioner, its golden armor gleaming with a cruel radiance. Its great wings beat against the wind, sending ripples of force across the battlefield. Opposing it stood Leona’s Direhound-Command, its lion-shaped pauldron reflecting fire and fury; Lyra, poised atop The Steadfast, magic crackling between her fingertips; and finally, Solarion-Lupus Revise, the wolf that stood defiant against the dragon.

  Inside his cockpit, Garett’s breath was steady, but his mind churned. A whisper of recognition tickled at the edge of his thoughts. The Emberclad traitor. The letter from Elderwynd. He had seen the signs, and now the truth revealed itself.

  "You," Garett said coldly. "You were the one pulling their strings. The Emberclad traitor."

  Lyrius smirked through the comms, his voice like silk lined with steel. "A shame it took you this long to realize, Lord Governor. I expected more from House Fenralis’ second heir."

  Garett’s fingers tightened around his controls. "What became of them? Wulfric? The men who followed him?"

  Lyrius chuckled, but there was no mirth in it. He lifted a gauntleted hand, summoning the dark sigils of necromantic invocation. The air trembled, and a rift split open beside Soldraknirr, birthing a beast of iron and death.

  A Drakeguard mech emerged—but this was no ordinary war machine. Its frame was thicker, its armaments crueler, its movements eerily human. It did not lurch like an automaton; it flowed, fluid and calculating. And when it turned its head toward Garett, its eyes—if one could call them that—crackled with unnatural light.

  And then, it spoke.

  The voice was warped, distorted, but familiar.

  Garett’s heart stopped.

  "Soul transfer is a branch of necromancy our house has only ever touched upon," Lyrius mused, watching with amusement. "Raising corpses can get tiresome. So why not take a warrior’s spirit and entomb it in steel? A fitting fate, don’t you think?" His lips curled into a grin. "Oh, do you recognize him?"

  The Drakeguard mech stepped forward, its blade gleaming in the firelight.

  Garett’s blood ran cold. "Wulfric...?"

  The Drakeguard lunged.

  Garett barely had time to parry, his plasma blade locking against the jagged jaws of his former brother-in-arms. Sparks danced in the night as the two machines wrestled for dominance, metal shrieking against metal.

  Leona’s rage erupted like a storm. "You bastard!" she spat, launching herself at Soldraknirr, her Direhound-Command a blur of motion. "Your house murdered mine! You butchered my family!"

  Lyrius only laughed, weaving through the aerial duel with effortless grace. "Is that what helps you sleep at night, Leonis? That you were victims? That your house had no sins of its own? Pathetic."

  Leona’s sword clashed against Soldraknirr’s plated wing, the impact sending golden sparks cascading down like falling stars.

  Meanwhile, Garett struggled against the Drakeguard—against Wulfric. He gritted his teeth, pushing back, but something in the mech’s movements felt wrong. Not like a mere necromantic thrall. There was resistance, hesitation. And then—

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  A voice, fractured and distant, whispered through the comms.

  "Kill me."

  Garett’s breath hitched.

  "Release me from this suffering."

  It was Wulfric.

  Garett’s hands trembled on the controls. His mind screamed for another way, another path—but there was none. Not this time. Not for Wulfric.

  With a roar of anguish, he surged forward, driving Solarion-Lupus Revise’s blade deep into the heart of the Drakeguard mech. The moment the blade pierced through, a terrible, shuddering sigh echoed across the comms—a sound like chains breaking, like a soul exhaling one final breath.

  The Drakeguard went still.

  Then, slowly, its corrupted core flickered out, and it collapsed into the ruins below.

  Garett sat frozen, his breaths ragged, his vision blurred with grief. His hands clenched into fists. And then—

  He lifted his head.

  His gaze turned to Soldraknirr, to Lyrius, and all the rage, all the hatred, all the anguish that burned in his heart exploded into a single, murderous intent.

  The Solarion-Lupus Revise turned, plasma blade still dripping with molten metal.

  Garett’s voice, when it came, was like a blade unsheathed.

  "You’re dead."

  The Battle for the Skies

  The heavens bore witness to a battle of titans.

  Garett and Leona struck as one, their mechs flanking Soldraknirr in perfect synchronicity. Direhound-Command surged forward, its golden aura flaring as Leona unleashed a devastating overhead slash. Solarion-Lupus Revise followed suit, its plasma blade shifting mid-strike—first to Blaze, molten energy licking across its surface, then to Gale, accelerating the swing with terrifying speed.

  Soldraknirr met their assault with fluid, almost mocking ease. Lyrius spun the dragon-mech in the air, its plated tail lashing out, catching Direhound-Command in the midsection and sending it spiraling. He laughed through the comms.

  "Come now, is that all? I expected Fenralis dogs to bite harder than this."

  Garett snarled, his Azeroth Drive humming with power. Ice spread across Solarion-Lupus Revise’s blade as he parried a counterattack, freezing Soldraknirr’s outstretched claw just long enough for Leona to strike. Her mech crashed forward like a golden meteor, her shield glowing with amplified fortification magic as it slammed into Soldraknirr’s exposed wing.

  The crack of impact echoed through the battlefield.

  Lyrius growled, his instincts sharp enough to shift Soldraknirr’s stance before disaster struck. His SES flared, golden energy cascading across the mech’s frame as he twisted the dragon into a brutal counterstrike.

  The fight raged on, each clash of steel shaking the very air. Elemental magic exploded between them—Garett’s ever-changing plasma blade clashing against Lyrius’ masterful counterattacks. Leona fought like a lioness, her golden battle aura surging, every strike calculated to push Lyrius into a corner.

  But Soldraknirr was a god among mechs. And Lyrius was a pilot without equal.

  He adapted.

  He twisted their rage against them, each feint and counter exploiting their aggression. When Garett lunged with a Blaze-infused plasma strike, Soldraknirr rolled mid-air, using its massive wings to funnel the flames harmlessly aside before countering with a searing golden beam from its mouth. Leona intercepted, her Direhound-Command’s shield absorbing the blast before she retaliated with a devastating greatsword strike—only for Lyrius to flicker away in a burst of Gale energy, Soldraknirr now above them, claws poised for a killing blow.

  Leona barely managed to twist her mech aside as Soldraknirr’s talons raked across Direhound-Command’s shoulder plating, sending golden sparks cascading like molten rain. Garett surged forward, his blade shifting to Earth element at the last second, turning a thrust into a brutal impact that cracked Soldraknirr’s wing armor. But Lyrius was already adapting—the moment his mech reeled, its golden SES flared, mending the fractures with terrifying speed.

  Lyrius laughed through the comms, voice cold, mocking. "Predictable. Anger blinds you. And blinded warriors die."

  He pivoted mid-air, Soldraknirr twisting with unnatural agility, its tail whipping out in a deadly arc. Solarion-Lupus Revise barely evaded, using an Ice-infused boost to slow its descent just before impact. Garett exhaled sharply, forcing himself to remain focused. Every second, Lyrius was learning. Adapting. Anticipating. And if they didn’t find a way to break through his defenses—

  —this battle would be their last.

  From the deck of The Steadfast, Lyra watched in silence, gripping the railing as battle unfolded in a storm of fury and fire.

  Lyra turned to Nyx, desperation in her voice. "You have to intervene!"

  Nyx shook her head, her ear-wings flailing. "Not yet."

  Lyra looked at her pleadingly, her hands clenched on her staff. "Nyx—please!"

  The familiar sighed, her sharp eyes locked onto the battlefield. "You know what happens when we use that power. They can still win. We must have faith in them."

  Lyra swallowed hard, forcing herself to look back at the fight, her hands trembling as she gripped the railing.