Beneath a leaden sky choked with pale, ashen clouds, a biting wind tore through the canyon, raking across the skin like cold claws.
Alexandra's breathing was heavy and labored; at her fingertips, a faint, sickly pulse of Arts flickered in the gloom.
She cast a sharp glance backward. Three knights, encased in monolithic steel plating and venting plumes of pressurized steam, pursued them. Each footfall echoed against the mountain range like a hammer striking an anvil.
A mechanical shriek joined the distant cacophony—the sharp, high-pitched hiss of escaping pressure as the boiler units reached their limits.
The steam vents atop the knights' pauldrons glowed a dull, hellish red, vibrating as if they were seconds away from vomiting incinerating flames.
The truck convoy thundered along the narrow pass toward the canyon's mouth, kicking up thick veils of grit and dust.
Vehicles mounted with organ guns rattled violently, spitting out spent brass casings as heavy barrages slammed against the knights' plate armor. The impact did little more than scuff the steel, yet it was enough to stagger their advance.
"Left! Tighten the formation! Get closer, damn you!"
Laman's voice tore through the roar of engines. His truck led the vanguard, carving a path through the debris.
Alexandra's command followed, sharp and piercing. "Maintain suppressive fire! Do not take your eyes off them!"
Through the optical sensors of the Steam Knights, there was only the fleeing enemy.
They took no notice of the sheer cliffs flanking them, the windswept ravines, or the hidden batteries nestled in the heights above.
To these titans of Victoria, the targets before them were mere dolls—fragile insects scurrying through the dirt that would shatter under a single armored fist.
"You shall not escape!"
A metallic roar, distorted by the vox-grille of the lead knight, erupted across the pass.
With that cry, the knight at the front leveled his flamethrower and unleashed a torrent of fire.
A crimson arc of liquid flame lashed the air, and thick black soot began to billow from the rear of the lead truck.
"Hiiiieee!"
A young soldier shrieked in terror as the heat washed over him.
His comrade beside him gritted his teeth, forcing a grimace that looked like a joke. "Shut it, you coward! Are you really scared of this? You survived Birmingham, didn't you? When you get home and have kids, you're going to tell them you were chased by a steam monster. You don't want to tell them you pissed yourself while it happened, do you?!"
The other soldiers let out brittle chuckles—a final, desperate reservoir of courage used to suppress their paralyzing dread.
The wind grew more violent as they neared the narrows of the canyon.
Every lurch of the trucks felt as though they might tumble into the abyss below. Alexandra deliberately signaled the drivers to decelerate.
She feigned exhaustion, acting as if they could flee no longer, luring the metal behemoths to close the gap.
"They are entering the close-range kill zone!"
Brangel's voice crackled over the primitive radio, the audio quality degraded by static and the howling wind.
His tone betrayed a soul-crushing tension.
"A little further... not yet."
Despite the danger, Alexandra's voice remained absolute.
Her intuition was a razor's edge.
The time had not yet come.
The Steam Knights' stride turned into a violent charge. The hum of their internal machinery rose to a fever pitch as they engaged the compressors for a burst of speed. The heat radiating from their exhausts was so intense that it melted the frost on the ground, leaving pools of blackened slush in their wake.
They were blind to the trap at the cliff's edge. They knew nothing of the death that awaited them there. Instead, the red glow of victory saturated their sensors.
"Now! Full throttle!"
As Laman screamed the order, the driver—a man with a short, soot-stained mustache—slammed his foot onto the accelerator.
The Originium engine shrieked in protest, propelling the truck onto a flat clearing just before the drop-off.
Alexandra turned back. All three knights were surging toward her at maximum velocity.
In that heartbeat, a metallic glint flashed from a rocky crevice high above the canyon. Yet, the Steam Knights remained focused only on their prey.
Alexandra steadied her breath and allowed a cold, thin smile to touch her lips.
"Welcome. This is your grave."
******************************************
The wind whipped across the lenses of the binoculars.
I watched through the glass as three gargantuan iron silhouettes advanced through a storm of dirt and debris.
Beside me, Brangel silently adjusted the focus on his own optics.
"They're here," Brangel muttered tersely.
Down in the gulch, Alexandra, Laman, and their brave cadres were tearing through the earth in their transport trucks.
Flashes of organ gun fire and rifle rounds sparkled intermittently, a desperate attempt to harass the knights' visual sensors.
Dense clouds of ashen vapor spewed from the knights' exhaust ports as their pursuit intensified.
"The actors have taken the stage. The supporting cast and the props are all in position."
I lowered the binoculars and looked at Brangel.
"They're almost at the designated coordinate. Shall we begin?"
"Let's do it. The suspense is going to stop my heart before they do."
Before the last syllable left my lips, Brangel took a steadying breath and raised his hand.
"... Batteries, ready!"
Aloft on the cliffs, artillery muzzles hidden under camouflage netting reared their heads in succession. Amidst the dust and dried brush, the cold gleam of steel revealed itself.
"Commence firing!"
The cannons roared, vomiting a hail of high-velocity shells into the canyon floor.
***************************
The heights erupted in fire as the hidden batteries let loose. A thunderous shockwave tore the air of the canyon as the first armor-piercing shell scored a direct hit on the lead knight's shoulder.
The thick iron plating shattered instantly. Internal pressurized steam shrieked out in a white pillar, sounding for all the world like a man screaming in agony.
"Pressure loss! No... no!!"
Before the pilot's voice could even finish the plea, the overheated steam manifold detonated.
An armored arm was hurled into the air as flames licked out of the ruptures. The massive chassis staggered, propelled by the impact toward the edge of the ravine.
The last thing heard was a frantic cry, the sound of a man's life being snuffed out in an instant.
"HENRY—!!!"
The titan plummeted into the abyss, accompanied by the horrific grinding of rock and the shrieking of tearing metal.
A pillar of dust and fire rose from the canyon floor below.
The remaining two knights froze for a fraction of a second. But they were veterans of a hundred wars. With a sharp tilt of their heads, they corrected their stances in mere seconds.
The knight on the left raised his shield, angling his advance, while the one on the right raised the nozzle of his flamethrower toward the heights to provide suppressive cover.
A dull, synthesized transmission crackled between the suits.
"George, confirm the targets. They're firing from above."
"William, I'll cover your left flank. They've concealed a battery on the ridge. We've been ambushed."
"Henry.... Damn it all. To go out like that... I'll see you in the hereafter."
The knight on the left raised his shield higher, his breath hitched in the vox-grille. Even amidst the wind, the rhythmic chugging of their machinery and the hiss of steam were unmistakable.
Heavy footsteps once again shook the dirt road of the canyon.
On the ridge, the Red Army soldiers' voices turned urgent.
"William, adjust the angle! The one on the right has spotted the battery!"
The cannon barrels tracked the targets, but the Steam Knights were already pumping out massive clouds of steam as a tactical screen.
"Cover me! Use the flamethrower to blind them, now!"
"Understood! Left ten degrees, open fire!"
The right-hand knight's flamethrower roared, hosing the canyon walls with liquid fire. The stream of fire swept across the rock and soil, forcing the gunners above to reflexively duck for cover.
Withered trees and dry brush clinging to the cliffside ignited, belching out thick black smoke and drifting embers.
The smog blinded the artillerymen.
"Why have you stopped firing?"
"The floor! We can't see the floor through the smoke!"
"Find a target and fire anyway!"
"Stop barking at my men! If you don't want us to hit our own comrades, keep your mouth shut! As the representative of this Artillery Soviet, I am telling you this is a professional matter!"
"Who was down there? Alya? Alya! Oh, damn it... damn it all!!"
"Brangel! Brangel! Pull yourself together, man! Alya isn't dead yet! She's not dead!"
"Vladimir, you bastard, how can I be calm?! Laman is down there too!"
It would take three minutes for the smoke to settle.
Three minutes. Someone had to hold them back for three minutes or the entire line would collapse.
***********************************************
Fire and steam painted the canyon in hellish hues, and smoke draped over the floor like a funeral shroud. The wind beyond the cliffs felt like the sigh of a cold, indifferent god watching the slaughter, carrying dust that hovered in the twilight air like an ominous mist.
Alexandra inhaled deeply. With every breath, a spark—both blistering hot and freezing cold—flickered within her chest.
They were coming for her.
She had to break their advance until the guns could speak again. Her feet were already moving, dictated by a steel resolve. Brushing her fingertips against the iron rail of the truck, she vaulted onto the earth.
Her light footsteps danced over the rocks. Beneath her, the dust scattered like falling petals in the wind.
Black smoke. The dark soot that mirrored the abyss. Amidst that blinding gloom, Alexandra slowly raised her staff.
The cold pulsation of Arts at her fingertips vibrated in sync with her heart. Black light blossomed from the tip of her staff. It looked like a crystalline flower blooming from a shadow—sharp, perfectly symmetrical, and possessed of a frigid beauty.
Alya held her breath and shattered the outer shell of the crystal, letting the shards take flight.
The first strike was like a thunderbolt. The black crystal tore through the air and slammed into the forearm of the shield-bearing knight.
The screech of metal on crystal echoed through the pass. The knight's shield was pushed back inches, and visible fractures spiderwebbed across the armor's surface.
"The girl... she was hiding her true strength."
"I thought she was mere chaff. I planned to make it quick, but now I will simply end her. I am engaging."
The knight on the left lowered his shield and charged headlong. Alya pivoted, swinging her staff in a wide arc through the air. With every motion, jagged crystals coalesced in the void, flying in curving trajectories toward her gaze.
Whenever the crystals struck the steel plating, sparks and jagged fragments erupted in every direction. Behind the smoke, another gargantuan shape emerged.
The knight on the right had discarded his depleted flamethrower, now gripping a massive greatsword with both hands. The heat radiating from the blade's edge brushed against Alya's cheek.
Yet, she did not retreat. She lowered her stance on the jagged rocks, bracing her staff with both hands. Black radiance flared again, this time scattering dozens of small crystals into the air like petals.
The petals screamed as they descended upon the two knights. The knight on the left raised his shield, while the one on the right swung his greatsword, cleaving through the crystal storm as if parting a tide.
But in that interval, Alya's second focused shot found the gap at the knight's waist, beneath the shield. With the sound of rending metal, the giant's movement stuttered.
"WILLIAM—!!"
"I am fine! It is a minor puncture. Keep the pressure on her!"
With that brief exchange, both knights surged toward Alya simultaneously. Earth and stone flew from beneath their sabatons. Alya's heart drummed like a war-beat. A massive crystal was forming at the end of her staff.
She counted in her head. Forty seconds.
The crystal flew. It bypassed the left knight's shield and grazed his leg, shattering into a million fiery sparks. Taking advantage of the opening, Alya vaulted along the side of the canyon wall. But the knights were reading her every move.
The right-hand knight leapt into the air, bringing his blade down onto the rocks. Alya avoided the blow by a hair's breadth, but the ground split apart, sent rock splinters flying into her skin. Even then, her hands wove more crystals.
Twenty seconds.
Alexandra crouched low. The wind filled her coat, and within her, the drumming of her heart felt like a final signal. She felt, for a moment, as though she were a single flower dancing in a gale—a flower flying into the heart of a storm to reach the core of a steel machine.
She remembered Uncle Brangel twenty years ago. She remembered the sight of him telling the others that he would buy time, and for them to take Alexandra and run.
"You've held out long enough. Now, die."
The knight on the right looked up. Condensation on the blade's edge caught the sunlight through the ashen clouds, creating a fleeting rainbow. In the next heartbeat, that rainbow became the arc of a lethal strike.
The blade sang. The sound was as smooth as silk, yet it carried the merciless frost of an Ursus winter. Alexandra's body twisted instinctively, but the weight of exhaustion made her a fraction of a second too slow.
Cold steel bit into her flank. As her skin split and her flesh was torn, a sharp, white-hot agony pierced her entire being like a thousand thorns.
"Kh... gack!"
Her breath hitched. Blood pooled in her mouth. Like red petals scattering in the wind, crimson blooms spread across her khaki coat. The flower had been cut down by the blade and fell to the earth.
But even then, the flower left a final scent. A last crystal formed at her fingertips and took flight, cutting through the air. At that moment, the ridge above buzzed with the sounds of reloading and targeting coordinates.
Alexandra clutched her blood-soaked side, standing up once more with eyes that had not yet broken, staring down the steel monsters. The pain was a conflagration, yet within that fire was a spark that would not be extinguished.
She could not fall yet. Not until these iron abominations were stopped upon this earth.
**************************************
A black light tried to bloom once more from Alexandra's fingertips. A small, jagged crystal formed at the staff's tip, but it flickered unsteadily with her fading pulse. Her breathing was ragged, her lungs scraping for air.
Just once... just once more, if I can stop them....
But her wrist dropped, heavy as lead. The crystal dissolved halfway into formation, its dark powder vanishing into the gale.
"The end of the line, it seems."
"A fine performance, little miss. But this is the final curtain."
With the sound of grinding gears, they stepped toward her. The red optical sensors of the two knights glared down at her. A shield was lowered, and the edge of a greatsword glistened. Their laughter was dry, a sound of grating metal that echoed like a funeral toll.
Alexandra took one step back. The canyon wind pushed at her back, and pebbles crunched beneath her boots. Her heart beat like a drum, but it was no longer the beat of war—it was the rhythm of a life reaching its finale.
"—ALYA!!"
In that instant, a roar that split the air shook the canyon. Dirt and dust erupted from the periphery as a massive, solid weight slammed into the fray. The iron prow of a heavy truck plowed into the side of a Steam Knight.
Steel shrieked against steel in a shower of sparks, and the knight was hurled sideways toward the cliff, stumbling under the sheer kinetic force. Steam erupted from its vents in a chaotic blast as its mechanical balance failed.
Behind the shattered windshield of the driver's cabin, Laman's face flashed by like a lightning strike. It was a face contorted in a mask of fury, terror, and absolute determination. His eyes were not on the enemy, but on Alexandra alone.
The truck's engine let out a dying scream before stalling out. The door was kicked open, and Laman leapt from the vehicle. He sprinted straight for Alexandra.
When he saw her blood-stained side, the color drained from his face.
"Damn it... why? Why are you the one who's hurt? You said we'd win without anyone getting injured...."
His voice was filled with rage, but his trembling hands were an expression of desperate devotion.
Despite the agony, Alexandra tried to smile, though blood stained her lips.
"I knew... you would come."
Laman closed his eyes for a fleeting second, then supported her weight as he helped her up. Atop the cliffs, the guns were finding their mark once more.
Within Laman's embrace, Alexandra tightened her grip on her staff. The battle was far from over.