The aether gate loomed before Moyo; its circular frame forged of gleaming mithril inscribed with runes that pulsed with an otherworldly blue light. Martha and Ayo stood nearby, the glow casting eerie reflections across their faces. Thick cables snaked from the base of the gate into the ground, conduits of unimaginable power feeding the swirling energy at its center.
Moyo approached slowly, his sharp eyes tracing the intricate carvings before his gaze followed the cables. They disappeared into the earth, leading to a network of unseen mechanisms. From behind the gate, Boyle emerged, his grin wide and his expression brimming with pride.
"Marvelous, isn't it?" Boyle said, patting the side of the gate like a prized possession.
Moyo nodded, still studying the structure. "Where are we getting the aether to power this?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of curiosity.
Boyle held up a refined aether shard, the gem glinting faintly in the light. "We're burning through these faster than tinder," he replied, his tone light but betraying a hint of concern.
Before Moyo could respond, a figure approached. Josh, now dressed in immaculate formal attire, arrived with Gravemaw strapped to his back. Despite the lingering limp in his step, his eyes gleamed with determination.
"Josh," Moyo acknowledged, his voice steady as he watched the sentinel approach.
"My lord," Josh replied, bowing slightly.
"Your sentinels?" Moyo asked, his voice softening with genuine concern.
Josh blinked, caught off guard by the question. For a moment, he seemed unsure of how to respond. "They're fine," he said finally. "Crushed egos, but they understand where they stand in terms of power now. They're ready to work on improving themselves."
"Good," Moyo said with a nod, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
Martha, standing beside the gate, cleared her throat. "Before you leave, my lord, I must warn you," she said. "We doubt the Union has an aether gate of their own. Judging by the lack of direct incursions or flying weapon platforms, they've yet to develop one. This gate might drop you right into their city—or just outside its boundaries. Be prepared."
Moyo met her gaze, his expression resolute. "Understood."
Annika stepped forward, gripping his arm gently before leaning in to place a soft kiss on his cheek. Her storm-gray eyes sparkled with determination. "Just say the word, and Bastion will bring its full wrath," she promised.
Moyo placed a hand over hers. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," he said softly.
Martha handed him several boxes packed with supplies: food, clothing, and other essentials. Moyo absorbed them into his voidkeep with a simple thought before stepping toward the gate. The swirling energy intensified as he neared, and he took a deep breath.
Without hesitation, he stepped through.
**************
The journey through the gate was disorienting, the raw aether pressing down on him like a living force. It twisted and roared around him, attempting to crush him under its weight, but Moyo flexed his aura and stood firm. After what felt like only seconds, he emerged on the other side, the scent of saltwater and the roar of crashing waves assaulting his senses.
He stood on the edge of a wide beach, the vast ocean stretching endlessly behind him. Waves battered the shore with relentless force, and the horizon shimmered under the sunlight. Moyo glanced around, noting the figures battling a massive tentacled aberrant in the distance.
Josh stumbled through the gate a moment later, hammer at the ready as he surveyed their surroundings. His sharp eyes locked onto the fray ahead.
[tide aberrant level 100]
The creature was a grotesque fusion of an octopus and a hydra, its dark red, scaly tentacles thrashing violently. Ships, massive constructs of metal and mana, fired concentrated blasts of raw energy at the beast, but it withstood the onslaught, retaliating with devastating strikes of its own.
Moyo's attention snapped to the nearby dunes as a ripple in the air caught his eye. Figures shimmered into view; their forms cloaked in refractive armor that bent light around them. Each soldier carried weapons that thrummed with intent—blades glowing with aetheric energy and rifles humming with power. Dozens of them materialized, flanking a commanding figure in a red beret who strode forward confidently, a cigar clenched between his teeth. Aura and intent radiated from him like a physical force.
"Who are you? State your intentions before my men leave you as a smoking pile of flesh on the sands," the man barked, his voice gruff but steady.
Moyo raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he replied evenly. "But I see you're having trouble with that tide aberrant. Need a hand?"
The commander's scowl deepened. "Thanks to you, our position's been compromised. I'm in no mood for jokes, boy."
Moyo exhaled slowly, watching as smaller, crab-like creatures began pouring out of the sea. They screeched as they charged, their claws snapping hungrily.
"Detain him," the commander snarled, "and we'll talk after we clean up your mess."
Moyo turned to Josh. "Deal with the smaller ones."
Josh shot forward, a blur of motion as his hammer tore through the air, spraying sand in his wake. Moyo faced the commander, who instinctively began to gather his strength.
"You don't want this fight," Moyo said, his voice low and calm. He let his presence leak out just enough to pin the man in place. The commander's cigar fell from his slackened lips as his limbs trembled, his soldiers behind him faltering under the same oppressive aura.
Realizing his error, Moyo reined in his presence, watching as the soldiers gasped for air, some collapsing to their knees. "Apologies," he said, genuinely contrite, before turning his gaze back to the tide aberrant.
One of the beast's massive tentacles rose high, preparing to smash into a nearby ship. With a simple flick of Ida, Moyo imbued the blade with pure intent and swung. From where he stood, the attack bisected the creature perfectly. The tide aberrant's halves fell into the ocean with a deafening splash, purple ichor spilling into the waves.
Josh returned, his hammer dripping with the same viscous liquid. He stood at Moyo's side without breaking stride.
Moyo sheathed his blade and turned back to the pale-faced commander. "Now, inform your Union that the Titan is here to meet whoever's in charge," he said, his voice calm yet unyielding. The commander nodded shakily; his face as white as the sand beneath his boots.
*****
The whirring hum of the massive flying platform grew louder as it ascended into the skies, its engines fueled by aetheric energy. Isiah Bladewright marched steadily across its deck, the wind tugging at the tails of his suit as he observed the landscape below. Surrounded by his soldiers and the imposing metal walls of the platform, he exuded an aura of command. The walls, forged from mithril alloy and infused with mana, bristled with intent cannons. Each was manned by soldiers of the Union, ascenders forged through relentless training into deadly warriors of aura and intent.
"Shock and awe tactics," Isiah murmured, his voice carrying a note of grudging admiration as he gazed toward the horizon. "I'm impressed."
The woman walking beside him nodded curtly, her expression measured. Her braided yellow hair was neatly tucked beneath a black beret, and she wore military fatigues that shimmered faintly, their material sourced from the Syndicate's advanced textiles division. Even her attire spoke of precision and utility.
"He appeared within the borders of Solace," she said, her voice calm yet laced with tension. "A fortunate circumstance, considering the tide aberrant would have destroyed at least forty percent of our crops if it had reached the shore."
Isiah inclined his head slightly, his sharp eyes narrowing as he thought. "Indeed. Still, it doesn't excuse the fact that the Titan was able to breach our borders undetected. Not a whisper from our network." He paused, his gaze shifting to her. "What news comes from Luminar?"
The woman's lips pressed into a thin line. "The Shadowtide is reportedly embarrassed. Whether this reveals the superiority of the Webweaver or simply the limitations of her reach is unclear."
A heavy sigh escaped Isiah as he flexed his gauntleted hands. The prototype gauntlets gleamed under the light, their surface engraved with intricate designs pulsating faintly with energy. Commissioned from Valiance—the industrial powerhouse of the Union—they represented the cutting edge of their Aethertech advancements.
"I still think this is a bad idea," the woman said, her tone edged with concern. Her eyes flicked to the gauntlets before locking on Isiah.
"I told you, I need to test my strength against him," Isiah replied, his voice steady but laced with determination.
Her expression darkened. "Even knowing the rumors? That he stands at the peak of Advocate while you remain at the mid-stage of Acolyte?"
Isiah shrugged, dismissing the implied disparity. "The Shadowtide has been wrong before. I choose to believe she is wrong again."
The platform's engines shifted pitch as it picked up speed, cutting through the air toward Solace, the Union's agricultural heartland. The seas began to glimmer on the horizon, their vast expanse a shimmering silver under the sunlight.
"You know," the woman began, her tone softer yet pointed, "some would say the reason our ascenders have stalled in their advancement is because we rely too heavily on Aethertech. This... hybridized dependency is holding us back."
Isiah glanced at her, his brow lifting slightly. "Perhaps. But it's secured our borders so far."
"To what end?" she pressed, her voice gaining an edge. "When the threats the Titan speaks of finally come, what happens if they bring constructs superior to ours? Our strikers and sentinels are stagnant—most are still peak Initiates or early Acolytes. We're dedicating ourselves to producing Aethertech at the cost of genuine growth."
As she spoke, her eyes began to glow faintly yellow, the air around her rippling with heat.
Isiah coughed meaningfully, his expression sharpening as he drew her attention back to the present. The heat dissipated, and she dipped her head apologetically.
"My apologies," she murmured.
Isiah nodded curtly, his gaze returning to the horizon where the sea kissed the sky. The outlines of Solace were becoming visible, its lush fields stretching like a quilt of green and gold, bordered by the endless ocean.
"We approach Solace," he said, his voice steady but thoughtful, the weight of his decisions heavy on his shoulders.
**********
The heavy scent of salt air mingled with the faint whir of machinery as Moyo and Josh stood on the beach, surrounded by the forces of the Union. The massive flying platform loomed in the distance, its sleek metallic form bristling with intent cannons and aether-powered engines. Soldiers cast wary glances at Moyo, their fear barely concealed. For once, Moyo didn't mind; after all, they'd started this tense exchange.
Grabbing Josh by the shoulder, Moyo muttered, "Hang on."
In an instant, he activated Titan Walk, the world blurring around them before they reappeared mid-air atop the flying vessel. Josh staggered slightly, finding his footing as soldiers surrounded them with weapons drawn—blades humming with energy, glowing rifles raised. Moyo could feel the presence of the ship's heavy cannons locking onto him, along with unseen snipers likely tracking his every movement.
"First, you trespass into our territory; now you invade our sovereign airspace. This is becoming an insult, even for you, Lord Titan Blade," came a sharp voice. Isiah Bladewright strode forward, his aura flaring like a tangible wave of hostility.
Moyo shrugged. "I have no time for political games. That's Lady Martha's domain." His gaze swept the deck, locking onto a woman standing near Isiah. Pointing directly at her, he asked, "Are you the one truly in charge here?"
The woman's expression didn't waver as she replied smoothly, "I am but a simple Proconsul, much like Isiah here." Her smile was calm, almost placating.
Moyo's frown deepened. "I'm here to settle whatever nonsense cold war your faction insists on perpetuating. Let's end it now, and stop wasting time."
"Or what?" Isiah growled, taking a step forward, his aura spiking. Josh instinctively gripped Gravemaw tighter, the action drawing the attention of every soldier on the deck.
Moyo's voice dropped, calm yet edged with disdain. "Why are you so determined to provoke me? Do you want me to throw the first blow so the Union can claim I initiated this farce? I saved your people—perhaps that was my mistake."
"All you've ever known is brute strength, Titan Blade," the woman interjected, her tone sharp yet measured. "We are merely responding in kind."
Moyo sighed and unleashed Balogun's Domain. A wave of crushing pressure rolled out, alarms blaring across the ship as soldiers dropped like stones, weapons clattering uselessly. The vessel tilted violently, its engines sputtering as even the cannons exploded under the force. Only Isiah and the woman stood unaffected, though sweat beaded on their brows as they resisted the domain's power.
The woman moved first, a burst of golden heat radiating from her as she charged forward, her body wreathed in flames that seemed to carry the weight of the sun itself. A blade of light and fire materialized in her hands as she pressed into the domain, her feet grinding against the deck as she struggled closer.
[Cassandra, Level 100, Path of the Dawnkeeper (Sun-Mana + Steel-Intent)]
"A Dawnkeeper," Moyo murmured, his interest piqued.
With a flick of his wrist, he drew Ida. Cassandra's blade clashed against his, her flames roaring as they met the unyielding strength of his intent. Moyo's expression remained neutral as the golden fire extinguished against his presence. He moved with deliberate precision, tapping her chest lightly with his palm. The force sent her flying backward, crashing into the deck with a thud.
Meanwhile, Josh faced Isiah in a brutal clash of aura and intent. The Sentinel's hammer swung with devastating power, meeting Isiah's blade strike-for-strike. The deck trembled beneath their feet as raw energy crackled in the air. Josh, however, was relentless, his movements precise and overwhelming. With a final swing, Gravemaw smashed through Isiah's weapon, the hammer's head resting against the Proconsul's neck.
"Enough!" Cassandra's voice rang out, the sun above intensifying as if in response to her frustration.
"I agree," Moyo said, sheathing Ida as the vessel steadied itself. The engines roared back to life, soldiers groaning as they stirred back to consciousness, disoriented but alive.
"Now that you've tested us to the best of your abilities, perhaps we can dispense with the posturing and address the true matters at hand?" Moyo said evenly, his gaze locking with Cassandra's.
The Dawnkeeper straightened, brushing herself off as she regarded him with a measured nod. "Very well, Lord Titan Blade. What is it you seek from the Union?"
Moyo's eyes narrowed slightly. "Then I am speaking to the one who leads the Union?"
"I am merely Consul," Cassandra replied, her tone formal yet unyielding. "Unlike Bastion's centralized rulership, each region of the Union is autonomous. I speak for the Proconsuls."
Moyo exhaled slowly, nodding in acknowledgment. "Then, Consul Cassandra, perhaps we should continue this discussion in a more private setting?"
"Agreed," she said, inclining her head.
*************
Luminar, the bustling heart of trade for the Union, was a town that never slept. Goods flowed constantly from the Union's outskirts and its outlying settlements, towns that pledged fealty to the Union in exchange for protection. These goods—ranging from raw materials to advanced mana-infused products—were gathered in Luminar's expansive warehouses before being distributed across the Union's regions.
Massive vehicles, powered by aether and floating mere inches above the ground, plied the roads in an endless stream. Their humming engines wove through the cacophony of bartering traders, street performers, and the clatter of thousands of boots on the cobblestone streets. Among the thriving commerce, the Syndicate's unmistakable mark loomed large, facilitating trade through hundreds of shops that had sprung up in every corner of the city.
But beneath the surface of legitimate commerce, Luminar harbored a darker trade. This city was also the seat of the Union's intelligence network, an unseen force led by a woman whose identity was a tightly guarded secret, known only to the highest echelons of the Union's leadership. From this shadowy enclave, the movements and intentions of every player in the Union's hierarchy were scrutinized—monitored, manipulated, or eliminated as deemed necessary.
To the everyday citizen of Luminar, the city's true nature was a mystery. They lived blissfully unaware, tending their shops and embracing the rapid changes brought by the system's arrival. A trader selling mana-infused oranges—a novelty crop enhanced with aether to be sweeter and more potent—yawned lazily behind his counter as his shop assistants managed the steady stream of customers. His sleepy demeanor gave no indication of the hidden purpose his shop served.
A hooded figure entered the stall discreetly, catching the trader's attention with a subtle nod. The trader blinked away his lethargy, yawned again, and turned over a deck of cards with red markings, a nonchalant motion that signaled acknowledgment. He then looked away, seemingly uninterested, as the figure disappeared into the bustle of the shop.
Blending seamlessly with the other servants, the stranger slipped into the back of the shop where crates of oranges were stored. With a tap to his chest, a tiny red sigil flared briefly, illuminating the bricks of the far wall. A dim red symbol shimmered into view before the wall silently parted, revealing a hidden tunnel. The figure stepped through, leaving the oblivious shop assistant behind, still whistling as he loaded crates onto a cart.
The tunnel stretched long and winding, lit intermittently by glowing white crystals embedded in the walls. The figure's footsteps echoed softly as he descended deeper into the underground network. At the end of his journey lay a cavernous room filled with quiet activity. Dozens of figures moved between large screens displaying live feeds from across the Union's key regions:
Valiance, the industrial hub teeming with machinery and innovation.
Aegis, the militarized capital and the Union's foremost defensive stronghold.
Solace, the agricultural heart that fed the Union.
Zenith, a haven for mana research and arcane studies.
Echelon, the brutal training grounds that honed the Union's most fearsome warriors.
At the center of the cavern, standing before the screens, was a figure cloaked in shifting shadows. Her form distorted unnaturally, making it impossible to discern her true appearance. She exuded an aura of authority, and the room stilled slightly at her presence. As the hooded figure approached, he saluted, pressing his fist to his chest before speaking.
"Target has made contact with First Sword and Second Sword. Overwhelming strength was displayed," he reported crisply.
The shadowed figure tilted her head, her voice distorted but commanding. "Category?"
"Black. Tier 5 threat."
A collective pause rippled through the cavern. Conversations halted, and heads turned as the gravity of the report sank in. Tier 5 threats were rare—a designation for entities capable of mass destruction, whose presence demanded immediate and extreme countermeasures.
"Very well," the shadowed figure replied, her tone unflinching. "Raise all protocols to Tier 5. Inform all Proconsuls that the Union is to move to war footing immediately. Prepare contingency plans and deploy shadow operations for containment if necessary."
"Understood, ma'am." The hooded man saluted once more before turning sharply and leaving.
Above the cavern, unseen by any of the operatives below, a tiny spider scuttled along the cracks in the metal beams. Its glowing red eyes flickered briefly before it vanished into the dark tunnels.