The gates of Castle Vorell lay in ruins, shattered by the Dominion-class Mech’s climactic battle with the Aether Warden. Smoke and fire filled the air, casting an ominous glow over the battlefield. Inside the capital’s last bastion of noble power, panic rippled through the defenders. The walls that had stood for centuries were breached, and Juri Winkler’s forces were closing in.

  Juri stood at the forefront of the rebel army, the Dominion’s imposing frame framed by the burning wreckage of the Warden. The battered but unyielding mech had become a symbol of the rebellion’s resilience. From the cockpit, Juri surveyed the scene, his sharp blue eyes scanning the castle’s towering spires.

  “This is it,” he said through the comms. “No more waiting. No more defenses. We take the castle, and we end this.”

  The rebels surged forward, storming through the broken gates and into the castle’s outer courtyard. The nobles’ remaining forces—elite soldiers, mages, and smaller war machines—formed a desperate line of defense.

  “Push through!” Kira shouted, leading her team of ground forces. Her twin daggers flashed as she weaved through the chaos, cutting down enemies with surgical precision.

  Halrick charged into the fray, his massive sword cleaving through soldiers as he barked orders to the rebel vanguard. “No mercy for the tyrants!”

  From above, Garrick and his sharpshooters rained precise fire on key targets, disrupting the nobles’ formations and clearing a path for the advancing rebels.

  Juri piloted the Dominion into the heart of the battle, its weapons blazing. The mech’s railgun fired in rapid bursts, tearing through war machines and clearing fortified positions. The Arc Pulse Cannon crackled to life, disabling enemy mages and constructs with devastating precision.

  “Focus on their mages!” Juri commanded. “Without their spells, they’ll crumble.”

  As the rebels fought their way deeper into the fortress, the battle became a brutal close-quarters struggle. The narrow corridors and grand halls of Castle Vorell echoed with the clash of steel and the roar of magic.

  Valeria Eldryn led a team of infiltrators through the castle’s eastern wing, targeting the nobles’ command posts and disabling their internal defenses. Her strategic mind and knowledge of noble tactics proved invaluable, allowing her team to outmaneuver the defenders at every turn.

  “This castle was built to keep armies out,” Valeria said, cutting down a guard with a well-placed thrust of her rapier. “But it wasn’t built for a rebellion already inside its walls.”

  Alarice sat on the high throne, her green eyes icy and unyielding. Lorian stood at her side, his expression tense but determined.

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  “They’ll be here soon,” Lorian said, his voice low.

  “They think they’ve won,” Alarice replied. “Let them come. They’ll find that victory is not so easily claimed.”

  The rebels breached the throne room’s outer doors, the Dominion leading the charge. Juri’s sharp blue eyes locked onto Alarice and Lorian, his expression cold and calculating.

  “This is over,” Juri said, his voice amplified by the Dominion’s speakers. “Surrender now, and you might live to see the world we’re building.”

  Alarice stood, her expression unreadable. “The world you’re building? A world without order, where might makes right? You’ve already destroyed more than you’ve saved, Winkler.”

  “And you’ve bled this world dry,” Juri countered. “This isn’t about order. It’s about justice.”

  Lorian sneered, drawing his blade. “Enough talk.” He gestured to the soldiers and mages flanking the room. “Kill him.”

  The throne room erupted into chaos as the nobles’ forces attacked. Spells and projectiles streaked toward the Dominion, but Juri activated the mech’s Kinetic Absorbers, deflecting the blows.

  Kira and Halrick fought their way into the chamber, cutting down soldiers and clearing a path to the throne. Garrick’s sharpshooters targeted the mages, disrupting their spells and giving the rebels the upper hand.

  As the battle raged, Juri exited the Dominion, stepping into the fray with his custom-built plasma blade. He moved with precision and purpose, cutting through defenders as he advanced toward Alarice and Lorian.

  Lorian met him head-on, their blades clashing in a flurry of sparks. “You’re nothing without your machines,” Lorian growled, his strikes fast and relentless.

  Juri parried, his sharp blue eyes focused. “And you’re nothing without your title.”

  The two traded blows, their duel a brutal test of skill and endurance. Meanwhile, Kira and Halrick pushed toward Alarice, who stood unmoving at the base of the throne.

  “You think you’ve won,” Alarice said, her voice cold and measured. “But you’ve only unleashed chaos.”

  “We’ve unleashed freedom,” Kira shot back, her daggers flashing as she took down another soldier.

  Juri’s blade finally found its mark, disarming Lorian with a precise strike and forcing him to his knees. “It’s over,” Juri said, his voice cold.

  Lorian glared up at him, blood dripping from his lip. “Do you think killing me will change anything? The nobles’ power isn’t in titles—it’s in blood. You can’t erase it.”

  “Watch me,” Juri replied, driving his blade into Lorian’s chest.

  Kira and Halrick cornered Alarice, but she made no move to defend herself. Instead, she raised her hands in surrender.

  “Wise choice,” Kira said, her voice sharp.

  With the nobles defeated, the rebellion secured Castle Vorell and declared victory. The people of the capital poured into the streets, cheering as the crimson banners of the rebellion were raised above the castle spires.

  Juri stood atop the castle’s battlements, addressing the crowd below. His sharp blue eyes scanned the sea of faces, his voice carrying over the city.

  “This is the beginning of a new era,” he said. “An era where power belongs to the people, not the privileged few. Together, we’ll build a world where no one lives in fear of their rulers. A world where justice and freedom reign.”

  The crowd erupted into cheers, their voices shaking the very foundations of the capital.