Until our bones turn to dust, give them no parley.

  Until none of us draw breath, give them no respite.

  Until our blood fades from memory, give them no victory.

  Until the Suns shine again, and forever after that.

  - Inscription found upon the Grand Arch in Klavdiv’s central market.

  Baalka took a deep breath as poison once again left her hands. They were coming harder now. The flames pouring through the gate were burning hotter. They superheated the air to such a degree that even the hundreds of magicians that had been brought here throughout the battle could not manage to put a dent into it with their own winds. Magic, gun and cannon fire roared from by Baalka’s sides. Even the bolts pulled from ancient storehouses to mount into just as ancient ballistas whistled through the air. Those flames, tinged with a disgusting, sickly purple, would pulse whenever someone scored a successful hit, but they would quickly recover and continue to burn away Baalka’s poison.

  And Baalka searched for something else to force into her latest creation. Already, she had stuffed into it every germ that lived in volcanoes, she had searched memory for the microbes of the desert, she had pushed until the tiny bacteria that lived at the bottom of the ocean where in her grasp. She had fused them all together. They stitched and gestated and were held together only through the strength of her own will and they hissed as flames eviscerated them. And Baalka searched deeper, to the diseases of the past. Those primitive illnesses held no answers.

  Men ducked to cover from Baalka’s side as a fireball surged towards her. Baalka raised her hands to cover her eyes, a shield of ice sprung from the ground. It blocked the flame, it blocked her connected. The flames that blocked line of sight onto Tartarus’ army moved ahead, finally putting distances between themselves and the steaming gates of the Hold. Demons spilled out from beyond their edges. Succubi flew through the air. Chains were dropped from the bridge down to the lower levels, to the various balconies and other pathways directly intersecting with Korkorikos’ entrance. Bullets followed them, many fell, many filled the gap. Baalka waved her hands again, the barrier of ice retreated, she forced yet another wave of foul disease from her hands, wide and spread out to catch everything.

  And then something below her caught her eye. Baalka looked down upon the ground. It… That was her shadow. How could… Her eyes went wide as she realised what was happening. The Goddess of Disease spun around to check. She needed to see… and she saw a statue turn its head. Another took a step off its post, a sword of bronze drawn from its scabbard. A bridge began to turn. A gear turned in the distance. Another door flung open, a gargoyle of obsidian flapped its wings and launched straight into the flames. Then another. They dived into the fire, uncaring of heat that ate through life within seconds. Stone and metal took minutes to melt after all, a life could be in ended in moments.

  And above it, a stone sphere the size of a cathedral ignited with orange flames. A sun manufactured, a sun artificial, a sun of stone and rune, yet a sun nonetheless. A sun that began to shine. Dawn had come to the underground.

  They had held.

  Kavaa took a step to the side, her sword pirouetting around her like a spinning dress as her elbow crushed a demon’s throat. She spun, kicked, chopped the head off one demon, a pair of bullets flying past her killed yet another legionnaire in black armour. Kavaa jumped forwards, her own momentum carrying her through the raised shield, her sword stabbing at the succubus who was holding a ball of off-coloured flame in her hands. The corridor was tight enough that none could get past her. The demons flooding inside fell over as Kavaa dived backwards. The heavy fire of a machine gun cut down the entire corridor. Kavaa spun on the ground, the music in her head kept playing, the trumpet called for both an end to the suppressive fire and for Kavaa to get back on her feet. She jumped up and ran to the end of the corridor, sliding at the end so that soldiers in sync to the Orchestra could shoot at the flood of demons trying to catch up to them.

  Inside the room, Kassandora took a step towards the next the door, she raised her hand to the handle that led even deeper into the fortress at Levhen’s centre. And Kassandora faltered again. She blinked. “I was…” She had just been watching another of the teams die from their own perspective. Kavaa could tell from the sudden culling of human screams in the distance and the sound of yet another cheer from Tartarus’ army. Another building had been cleared out.

  “I know.” Kavaa said. “Keep moving.”

  At first, it was a flame that Elassa ignored. Nothing more than another mage. Then it was an arrow shooting out of nowhere. That could be explained with nothing more than just an earth mage who had too much time and energy to waste or yet another dwarven ballista being dragged from the storerooms. When it got to a gleaming metal bridge that led to yet another of inner castles within Hold Orysontis, she had to stop. The swirling ice around her began to slow down. The gemstones stitched directly into her dress, serving as more connections from her body to the atmosphere, began to glow brighter as the Goddess of Magic widened her eyes in shock.

  They… Olephia and Iniri… Impossible… And yet, Elassa turned from her balcony to look over the Imperial army. Her gaze passed over packs of armoured vehicles, cannons still firing, past mages that danced through the air and conjured the elements to push back whole swathes of demons, over the teams of men and dwarves that worked together to hold chokepoint with rifle and pike and shield. And towards the ball of flame in the distance. Orysontis’ underground sun was aflame with all the power of a reignited World Core.

  Elassa dropped her hands, a jet of fire exploding on her icicles spun her back around to the entrance. Half of the Hold had fallen already, demons greater and lesser, flying and grounded, mundane and magical, washed over every bridge and into every doorway like a way. And she saw those closed fortress-complexes open. A few still had troops within them shooting from windows. Some even had magicians that had landed onto roofs to recover their energies for a moment.

  Drawbridge dropped by itself. Portcullis raised. Elassa raised her hand to feel the air. She felt the lightning in the air. The silent words being transmitted through the air. Command after command of invader stepping inside the fortress. A thousand years ago, she had been tasked with disrupting these magical commands that awoke stone and statue. Now, she just washed as warriors that had never been born but built stepped through doorways.

  Water started to flow through Orystontis’ ancient aqueducts as pumps in the depths turned on. They washed back the unceasing tide of red, a forge in the distance began to blaze, a troop of demons had been charging across the hardened iron, they fell in as metal cracked and turned to liquid. And another army charged into the fray. From every corridor, from every door, they dropped from the ceiling and threw each other through the air.

  Some in the shape of human, some in the shape of beast, some designed for war and nothing else. Spheres no larger than a dog that whipped with a tail of razors and stone golems larger than the biggest demons, ancient automata, their eyes cold and purely decorational sparkling gemstones threw spears fixed onto their backs, constructions with two dozen legs and jaws to fell trees climbed up walls.

  Elassa dropped her hands as she was the flood of gold and grey wipe drown out the torrent of red.

  “Here!” Kavaa heard Kassandora’s shout through the Orchestra and then threw the Goddesses words. The band of soldiers by their side immediately started to push stone tables over to make yet another hasty barrier. The legs of metal chairs would serve as a makeshift palisade. Hopefully a demon would be impaled upon it. Not that it made a difference at this point. The Orchestra had confirmed that the upper level of Levhen had been overran entirely. There would be another hundred thousand willing souls to replace any of them. Kavaa took a deep breath, she quickly began to pass each of the men, filling them with more vitality than their bodies could handle. A dozen extra lives for them all, there was nothing to spare now. The only reason she kept moving through the massive crash was due to the drums in the Orchestra guiding her arm and walking her legs.

  The walls around them cracked. Kavaa looked to Kassandora. The notes in the Orchestra came transmitted from a team that had managed to scale one of the towers and were peeking through arrowslits. They relayed the message to Kassandora. She passed the image on to Kavaa. A huge demon was bringing its massive hammer down on the wall.

  Fer ducked between a greater demons legs, her tail stabbed into the stone to kill her momentum, her legs, her core hardened, she jumped up and ripped into the monsters stomach and the world went dark and wet once again. Her mouth was already open to collect the demon’s lifeforce as she buried herself into the creature. She drank quickly, she drank greedily, she drank as if it would be the last thing she would ever drink in the world.

  After less than a second, she felt her world begin to fall, the monster’s organs had been ripped by her claws, she turned, her arm ripped through muscle and grabbed onto a rib and she pushed herself out of the creature. Straight from one monster, to catch a succubi, to rip through her and bounce off so that she would not go too high into the air. The ground, teeming with movement and all the sounds of combat, of gunfire and clashing blades, was safe. She could move, she could manoeuvre, she could cut a ravine through the red as she bounced off and threw demons. And she did.

  And suddenly, she stopped, her red eyes readjusting as the claws on her feet dug into ground to come to a stop. She came face to face with a creature of bronze and crystal. Gleaming eyes looked at her for a moment. The automata inclined its head and moved its arm. Fer blinked as she stepped to the side, the machine’s blade sliding past her. She turned to see a demon be stabbed through its heart. Another machine crushed its head with an armoured boot, its jagged shield spinning, catch a swinging cleaver, and snapping it in half. A stone golem jumped into the air, arms and legs spread wide, the world rumbled as it fell onto the ground, flattening maybe two dozen demons. Fer let her arms finally fall loose as a rain of arrows ancient bronze arrows and javelins came down ahead of her. Demons were turned into pincushions. In the distance, her eyes picked out the monsters begin to retreat as a gleaming golden horse as large as a house raced into their ranks. Its sides armoured, its eyes gemstones, its back a series of blades that stabbed and retracted.

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  Fer stood, her frenzy dying off in the surprise as heard a cheer from behind. That was the Imperial army. Her ears turned and twisted as blood flushed into her cheeks. She would recognise the sound of that burning from anywhere. A constant roar of cracking flames yet odd, too quiet to be a true inferno yet too large to be anything but. It was as if the sound of a million different fireplaces had been arranged next to each other. After she had heard it once, it was too glorious a sound to forget.

  The Goddess of Beasthood, awash in blood, took a step forward as a Sun under the surface roared aflame behind her.

  Kavaa removed herself from the Orchestra and dived for Kassandora as her battle instincts kicked in. Instincts that had been forged through the end of Worldbreaking, through the wars after Reconstruction, through the Great War, she pinned Kassandora underneath her as the wall exploded to her side. A massive hammerhead smashed one of the humans into pulp. That bloody mass was not allowed to die underneath her blessing. Stone shards and dust fell amongst them as the air discoloured with a fog of grey. Kavaa grey hair, discoloured by crimson blood, whipped through the air as she inspected the damage. A hole had been made, their journey into the palace’s depths had been pointless. A demon five times her size stood on the ground and pointed forwards. It said something in its terrible language. Probably that it had found the pair of Goddesses.

  Kavaa whipped her face back at Kassandora. “Kassie.” Kavaa began even as she spoke. Endless vitality poured into Kassandora and awoke her. Red eyes stared up at Kavaa in confusion as to what was happening and then realisation. “You are not allowed to die!”

  “Goddess!” One of the men shouted. “Goddess! Goddess! Wake up! Wake up!” Anassa tried to murmur as she took heavy breathes. When did she collapse again? Her body felt as if a thousand pins were prickling each inch of her skin, as if she was freezing and aflame at the same time. “Goddess! Goddess!” Energy entered her. A meagre about, she forced herself onto her stomach, then put both arms onto the ground. A push that felt as if she was trying to move the whole world finally got Anassa back onto her knees. “No! Goddess! Look!”

  With her eyes burning, with each colour, the gold of armoured automaton, the orange of a blazing sun, the red and white and black of raised flags, the green and purple explosions of fireworks and the cool shades of ice sparkling in the air, feeling as if it was trying to blind her. Anassa fell back onto her knees and looked around. Her mouth struggled to form a word, her eyes fought a desperate campaign to finally close themselves. “Huuu…” Was all the all the sound that came.

  And Anassa collapsed backwards again. She rolled onto her side, uncaring at the fact she was bathing in her own vomit. Better to dirty oneself than to drown in one’s own sickness. She… She closed her eyes again, her lips curling into a smile. “Goddess!” The Cleric shouted.

  “I’m awake.” Anassa whispered. “I…” She took a deep breath. The air felt warmer now. The cheering… Cheering? Her eyes opened for a sliver and she realised what that menagerie of colours actually was. Olephia had made it. The World Core was aflame. The Holds had power. Their own systems would do the heavy lifting. Kassie’s plan had worked. “Over?” She asked.

  The cleric’s response was all the answer she needed. “We’ve won.” She took a deep breath as the barriers within her mind fell. She allowed it, fatigue’s terrible siege ended with tiredness marching through an open gate.

  It was time for a well-deserved rest.

  Kavaa watched as Kassandora flashed through the air once again. She wasn’t as fast as Fer but she was still a league above Kavaa. In her black armour, with Joyeuse twirling around her hands, it was just as amazing as when Kassandora had fought for them on Olympiada. And yet the fear of reprimand back then was not even a grain of sand that was losing Kassandora right here.

  Kavaa held her arm out to stop the blessed team of soldiers from running forwards into their depths. They raised their rifles. A few fired off what remained of their ammunition. Most had their rifles merely click. Bayonets were pulled off barrels to be used as the final weapons of men who had given all they could. Even their lives, most of them had been brought back from the clutches of death at least fifty times now. And they watched their last and greatest warrior cut through demons with her greatsword. Each swing was another rain of wave of blood and broken bodies, another twirl of that crimson hair that Kavaa found so precious.

  Succubi screeched and circled above as they threw down flames. A knight on a horse ablaze lowered his lance as he raced forwards. Behind him, a demon aimed one of those magma rifles towards a man at Kavaa’s side. It launched forth a huge bolt, more like a rebar rod than a bolt or bullet and impaled the man into the wall they were cornered behind. Traces of gunfire still rang out through the city, as did the singing of Tartarus’ victory anthem.

  Kassandora cut the head off a demon, jumped up to dodge a halberd coming to her side and was caught by the swing of a huge greater demon’s tail. Kavaa launched herself to the side to catch her friend as the monster laughed. It stared at the group of survivors, eyes red and horns black as legionnaires swarmed around it. Magma rifles were raised, swords drawn, pikes lowered. Kavaa just poured more essence of life into Kassandora, trying not to think of what was going to happen.

  They had all given all they could.

  Kassandora fell into Kavaa’s arms as the Goddess of Health caught her. The pain of healing once again entered her. Bones forced themselves into position, they tiny strands of calcium hooked around each other and hardened. Muscle was re-sewn by tiny needles. She moaned, she collapsed, she forced her eyes open and got to her feet. “Stay behind me Kavaa.”

  “No.” Kavaa said, her silver blade flashed by Kassandora’s side.

  “I need someone behind me.” Kassandora said.

  “I don’t care.” Kavaa replied. “I’m not letting you die before I do.” The demons rallied around them, pikes pointed forwards, they crept forwards a step. A captain or general had started issuing out orders. Kassandora tried to make out the words, over the shouts and singing and fighting enough throughout Levhen and with them being in a language she had only trifled with, it was a futile task.

  Kassandora stood still, the remains of War’s Orchestra still playing in her mind. The final notes of strings as men bled out. The trumpets for adrenaline as soldiers and dwarves held doors locked shut. The cries of flutes as men collapsed. At this point, the tactical and strategic value of it was worthless. Kassandora only kept the music playing so that the men had something to listen to. She watched the ranks be opened up for Tartarian knights who lowered their lances as they prepared for a charge. Above them, circling succubi began to conjure a firestorm that would prevent retreat via jumping away.

  It was over. “Kavaa.” Kassandora said.

  “What?”

  “I…” Kassandora’s voice trailed off.

  She couldn’t say it.

  What a terrible friend.

  …

  ..

  .

  Lights raced overhead. Veins of glowstone, merely shining before like luminous plants began to grow bright. Demons looked up and around. The horses panicked and charged. Kassandora grabbed Kavaa’s hand and launched the two of them up into the air. “HEAL ME!” She screamed as flames lapped around her armour. The pain of healing came once more as Kassandora grit her teeth and squeezed her friend harder. They soared through the air as flames chased, Kassandora didn’t even bother to control her fall. She could rapidly de- and re-materialize Joyeuse as the blade was heavy enough and had no momentum when it appeared to control her jump, but there was no point.

  She didn’t want to look away as the armoury Hold of Levhen began to turn on. Its three sun of solid rock and countless runes began to glow and then burn. Fire leapt from its edges down to its lowest point on the underside, and then from it, light spread out in all directions. Kassandora and Kavaa, both holding the other as they soared through the air, looked down at the depths that once were pitch-black and now gleamed with millions of machines. Suits of moving armour, golems, war wagons, animals, anything and everything that the dwarves of the past had engineered. A warehouse of a metropolis, with a mechanical army for a population.

  Kassandora thudded and winded herself as she landed on a bridge below. Kavaa’s healing came instantly. Bones were reformed. Muscles re-sewn. And grey eyes met red. Kavaa sat on Kassandora as she leaned back and looked around. The ground below moved. It twisted, it curved, fingers curled around the Goddesses to shield them from the approaching flames.

  A stone golem the size of a small keep in a castle had caught them. Demons poured down after the Goddesses. Demons that were met with a sudden torrent of spears and arrows that went up to meet them. Dwarfbronze bolts punctured wings and stone gargoyles raced through the air to meet them. Still holding onto Kavaa, Kassandora looked around the at the golem holding them. A construct of stone, its head a mere eyeless block of rock. It turned and set the Goddesses down on the ground. “Is…” Kavaa replied.

  Kassandora opened her mouth and had nothing to say. This moment demanded a set of words that simply refused to leave her mouth. She stood and pulled Kavaa off her knees as the two Goddesses looked down into the depths of Levhen. Bridge after bridge lit up as ancient glowstone veins finally received the power they needed. Lamps and that hung off chains finally started to work.

  Below, the mechanical soldiers of an Empire out of date looked up. Kassandora felt their crystal gazes pass over her. She saw the tiny nods. The salutes that a few of knew how to do. She felt the recognition of their old warmaster. It should have been a glorious moment but their recognition didn’t matter; she squeezed Kavaa’s hand.

  Something crashed from their side. The pair of Goddesses turned as mechanical suits of armour marched past them, towards the stairs that led up to the upper levels of the Hold. Elevator platforms held up by giant chains started to turn. Forges in the distance lit up. And Kassandora just squeezed Kavaa’s hand harder. A demon twice the size of the golem that had saved them barrelled its shoulder into the stone construct. It lost balance, tried to recover with a swing off its arms and was kicked off the bridge by that creature. Charcoal eyes ignored the swarm of spears and pikes and swords and spikes trying to stab through its feet. There was no caution this time, it raised its fists, ready to smash down on the pair. A creature that large should not be able to move so fast. Kassandora gripped Kavaa’s hand, turned and stopped when she saw the stone.

  A hand gripped the greater demon’s chest. A single finger on that hand was as large as its entire head, horns included. Kassandora’s eyes grew wide as she saw Praerion tear the demon back and slam it into a wall. The machine’s other fist smashed it into a red mist. Along the great machine, blue veins burst out as the soul bound into the stone roared with rage. If Kavaa was not there, Kassandora would have fallen to her knees.

  Now, she relied on the Goddess of Health just as much as the Goddess of Health relied on her. Her mouth formed an awed circle, Immayoi was up on the first level, crushing the flood of demons that had poured through the gates underneath its foot. Their retreat had began already. A victory song had been cut short and replaced by warhorns. Hurricanes of flames were driven back by constructs utterly uncaring of such heat. Blacksteel cleavers parried and cracked against dwarfbronze plate and bodies on stone. And Kassandora squeezed Kavaa’s hand. It had to be said. Slow and steady now. “Kavaa.”

  “I hate you.” Kavaa replied bitterly. There was no spite in it though, it was just anger at what could have been lost. “Never push it that close again Kass. Never! I don’t care what! This was a suicide mission!”

  Good. If the woman was calm, she wouldn’t be able to say it. “I love you.”

  - - - End of Arc 17: Empire Unearthed - - -