The planet Nibiru greeted us with a wary fleet that spent several hours figuring out who we were and where we had come from. Every arriving ship was scanned by all available means and kept in quarantine. As the advisor explained to me, this was a defense against attacks by various xenoses disguised as civilians. Necromancers caused the most problems, creating undead from people who could convert victims into their kind through a bite.
Our scanners, incidentally, identified us as humans. Such a small thing as emulating the structure of the human body and aura was a basic function. The 'death' previously demonstrated by the prisoner was the result of this emulation's operation. Landing on the planet, we underwent further scanning, identification, and so on, after which I and my bodyguards were housed in one of the underground bunkers. It looked like things were indeed going quite poorly there.
John Doe recommended that I not tell anyone about my invention until the official presentation. Spies from other races were everywhere, and no counterintelligence agency could guarantee the maintenance of secrecy.
We spent three days in the bunker, mostly watching news about recent events. Human civilization truly looked like it was in its death throes. Industry could not cope with the load, space fighter crews were manned by recruited operators from space mining ships, and the assault troops consisted of green recruits, of whom only three out of ten survived their first battle.
Finally, we were invited to the event where we were to present the results of our work. I expected to see a large hall filled with hundreds of people, but we were greeted by a couple of dozen individuals, among whom I noticed Papadopoulos and Rigertstein. Ten minutes later, Doe joined them, and then the main program of presentations began.
As it turned out, the three other players were also present in the audience. I could literally sense them as soon as they approached within a few kilometers. Perhaps this was an ability granted by the Judge. I was scheduled to speak last, so I made myself comfortable in my chair and prepared to laugh loudly at opportune moments.
The first project was a concept for building spaceships that would replicate the complete life cycle of humanity. That is, it was about a closed biosphere capable of supporting the life of about a million people. It was proposed to build hundreds of such ships and evacuate far away from the inhospitable galaxy. The fate of those who wouldn't fit on the ships, the author of the idea chose not to discuss. He only noted that the best of the best would get on board – people worthy of freezing in the vacuum of space for eternity.
This project generated little enthusiasm. Such ships had been built before. What commanded respect was merely the scale of these behemoths. But at the same time, the larger the ship, the harder it is to defend. So the chances of even building one ship under the current conditions were slim.
The second project was implemented by a terminator enthusiast. That's what he called his creation – fully autonomous robots capable of carrying love for humanity across the galaxy. I simply laughed at such blatant plagiarism, drawing angry looks from the robotics enthusiast.
During the Q&A session, I even asked: what was the probability of a machine uprising, and did the enemies have similar systems? The first question received an unconvincing denial of such a possibility, and the second was answered by a Council expert on armaments, who told us about an entire race of sentient robots that ranked even lower than humans in the galactic rating. After all, magic was inaccessible to them. Our creations of the gloomy Teutonic genius did not possess magic themselves, but at least had protection against the simplest spells.
The author of this project placed heavy emphasis on the possibility of building fully automated factories capable of overwhelming enemies with robots. But my question about the uprising sowed the necessary doubts in the hearts of the listeners, so I didn't expect much competition here.
The third project was extremely unexpected. In some ways, it repeated the first. The main concept was also escape, but it was implemented on a much larger scale. The author proposed nothing less than to cordon off a piece of space with an indestructible force field and live in that piece of the universe, unconcerned with what was happening beyond its borders.
Strangely enough, the advisors quite liked this option. Primarily because it allowed the status quo to be maintained. The entire power structure and society would remain unchanged. Only the factor of external threat would be removed. I had to shatter these rosy dreams with my tricky questions.
"You talked about shields that would essentially cut out a part of space, creating a new metaverse." I addressed the third figure. His name was Kira Ksenakis, and judging by his fat face, he was a relative of Papadopoulos.
"Yes, that's right. This guarantees that no one and nothing can pass through this barrier." Explained the sweating candidate for victory.
"But it is known that space is constantly expanding. How would the absence of back-pressure from the surrounding space affect the life of this universe?"
"Well..." Ksenakis's eyes darted around, seeking support from the audience. "That depends on the volume of the isolated space. According to the Chandravishnu formulas..."
"How long exactly would we be able to survive inside?" I interrupted him.
"Quite a long time. More than a hundred thousand years."
"Yet I somehow suspect it would be even less than a hundred years." I grinned triumphantly. "I think this is worth checking by independent experts. Besides, such a fate is effectively a surefire way to self-destruct. I wouldn't call that salvation."
The murmur of discussion filled the hall, while Kira Ksenakis began to sweat even more, although the room temperature did not exceed twenty degrees. Quite cool, in my opinion.
"The Council will commission an independent group of experts to study the materials of the third project." Finally declared one of the Council members. "Let's move on to the fourth project. Its author has proven most adept at asking tricky questions, and I would like to see what he himself can offer."
"Honorable sages," I addressed the audience with a prepared speech, "humanity is facing a serious problem in trying to compete with other races for a place in the galaxy. As you all know perfectly well, life in the universe is subject to a simple rule – the strongest survives. Or, in other words, the fittest. Life is based on evolution, and living beings must adapt to changing circumstances. We, too, must change – evolve into a higher form of life that will establish control over the entire galaxy. For millions of years, humans have adapted to changes in their environment. But now, in the age of space technology, change is happening too fast. Therefore, we must make an evolutionary leap, based not on our limited bodies, but on the pride of our species – the mind."
I surveyed the audience and confirmed that the poisoned honey of my words was flowing properly into the ears of those present, using noodle-hanging as a delivery method.
"Man has always been weaker than the species around him. But he has always been smarter than them. And now, in our moment of weakness, we must use our minds to become stronger, faster, more powerful. It is with this goal that I created the Human Complementation Project, which will allow us to rightfully call ourselves the highest form of life."
I noticed that the third figure began muttering to himself, clutching his head:
"Just not Evangelion, just not Evangelion! I won't survive that."
Heh, quite the flashbacks he's having.
"I won't say much, but will get straight to the point. I want to demonstrate to you the next step in human evolution – the vritras." With these words, one of the guards standing by the doors stepped onto the stage. This time he was not in a spacesuit, but in a simple military uniform. Or rather, his body was depicting clothing. "This man has undergone the transformation process and achieved true immortality. He cannot be killed by destroying his body; he wields magic. Even in the unlikely event of death, he can be reborn, retaining his memory and consciousness. He does not age, does not need food, feels no pain, yet can experience pleasure. Soldiers like him will be able to conquer any world, because it is impossible to resist an army whose soldiers are immortal, need no rest, supplies of food, or ammunition."
The noise in the hall grew, and I had to pause to avoid shouting at the top of my lungs. The time for a furious sermon had not yet come.
"Who let him in here?"
"Is this a necromancer conspiracy?"
"You say he's immortal?" Came the loudest voice.
"Yes..."
"Kill him." Came the command before I could give a detailed answer.
Several guards exchanged glances, and then one of the three vritras standing nearby raised his machine gun and blew his comrade to pieces with a burst. But within a couple of seconds, the bloodied and charred parts of the body merged, reforming a completely intact human. I was confident that heavy blaster charges couldn't damage the crystal, but the 'test subject' had taken extra precautions by placing it in the heel of his left foot.
The noise escalated into a real din. People jumped from their seats and began talking loudly, waving their arms. A couple of people decided to approach the vritras closer to examine him up close. Judging by the situation, no one would listen to me for the next two hours. Instead, everyone would be engaging in sterile debate, trying to prove the exceptional importance of their own opinion. So I sat down on a chair and began reading a book on the basics of local magic. Since free time had appeared, it was worth spending it productively.
Two hours weren't enough for those assembled, so the meeting was postponed until the next day. And I hadn't even explained by what means and at what cost this immortality was achieved. However, judging by all appearances, such trifles didn't interest the 'sages.'
The next day, the Council convened in an expanded composition. I was now brought to a huge hall where two hundred people sat in comfort. The podium where I was placed was surrounded by a protective force field. Apparently, the local bigwigs feared for their lives. Of the game figures, only I and the terminator inventor were present here.
Next to the main podium, in front of the protective field, a small portable podium was set up, where three sages sat, including Nikos Papadopoulos. I exchanged promising glances with him, but we did not get any closer contact.
"So, gentlemen, let's begin." Announced the speaker twenty minutes after the official start time. The noise and hubbub gradually subsided, and he continued. "By decision of the expert council, the first and third projects have been rejected. We no longer have enough resources to implement the first project, and a serious flaw has been found in the third. Although an isolated region of space could indeed exist for over a hundred thousand years, life within it would only be possible for the first couple of days. Kira Ksenakis has been sentenced by a military court to be sent to the combat zone as a kamikaze pilot, oh excuse me, as a fighter pilot."
The chuckles that broke out in the hall showed that the audience appreciated the joke.
"Now we need to discuss the two remaining projects and choose a worthy one for implementation. I give the floor to Ivor Pendragon, who has volunteered to present the second project to the Council of Sages."
The man sitting to the right of the speaker turned on his microphone and began his speech, checking the text on his tablet.
"First of all, I would like to note that of the two available projects, only this one does not involve turning all present into some kind of magical abomination." Ivor shot a venomous glance in my direction. "Regarding the essence of the second project. It involves the construction of fully automated factories under the control of the Council. The factories will be located in star orbits near asteroid belts. Automatic miners will collect ore and deliver it to the factories, which will produce combat robots of various modifications."
"After the robot army is formed, they will be delivered to one of the core worlds, where they will be consecrated by the power of the God Odin, making them invulnerable to magic. Then the countless army of holy robots will advance against the non-humans and sweep them away in a single surge in the name of the gods and..."
"Ahem!" Interrupted the sermon the speaker, whose name no one had bothered to tell me. "Let's stick to describing those events which we can actually predict."
"Uh... okay." Agreed the orator. "According to calculations, constructing one factory will take three months, after which it can produce over a billion robots per year. Given the current habitation zone and the continuous production of new factories based on existing capacities, we could overwhelm our main enemies with sheer mass within four years. By that time, we will have one hundred Sacred Robots of Odin for every enemy soldier!" The lecturer even hit the table with his fist in a fit of emotion. "And we won't have to betray the precepts of our ancestors by turning ourselves into some kind of undead."
At this, Ivor Pendragon stared into the hall with such hatred that it was clear his faction was in the minority. Otherwise, his gaze would contain not hatred, but arrogant contempt.
Despite the recognized authority of the Council of Sages, all its activities were conducted in secret. People learned about the Council's decisions not even after they were made, but after they had been implemented. The identities of the 'sages' were also shrouded in mystery, and only a few people, like Nikos Papadopoulos, were known to the general public. I suppose the Illuminati won in this world, and didn't really see the need to hide from anyone. Rather, this secrecy was a consequence of the usual disregard for the opinion of the 'common cattle.' Democratic elections had never been held here, so no one planned to enlighten the people about their rulers. Too much honor for them.
The angry speech of the apologist for holy robots ended, and the floor was given to my protégé.
"Esteemed members of the council," Papadopoulos began his speech, "last night I most carefully studied all the documentation for the fourth project, and also read the reports of our analysts." When did he manage to get the documentation? Could it be that John Doe had brought not only me but also all the compromising material gathered by my envious colleagues? "Unlike the second project, we won't have to wait for some factory to be built, then hope to bury our enemies in scrap metal. We can start pushing the enemy back today. The Human Complementation Project is fully complete." There's a plagiarist! No sooner had I said a clever word than it was already stolen. "And we're not only talking about forming an army. The goals of this project are far more global. I am not afraid to say, it truly is a way to save humanity. To save each and every one of you. To save those who are dear to you."
Nikos made a dramatic pause and surveyed all those present with a meaningful look.
"We are talking about every human being potentially gaining immortality. About you being able to bring even your deceased loved ones back to life." An astonished murmur ran through the hall. "Humans can rise to the level of gods." I distinctly heard Pendragon grinding his teeth. "Humanity deserves more. We deserve not to hide behind soulless pieces of iron, but to face the enemy face to face and tear him to shreds, asserting our evolutionary superiority." This time, an approving rumble arose in the hall, which showed no signs of abating. "Humanity has once again proven that it is the crown of evolution. The fusion of magic and technology, the fusion of secret spiritual knowledge and our philosophical beliefs, have allowed us to take a step forward, leaving all sorts of xenoses behind. And tell me, will you take this step, or will you cowardly stop one step away from your triumph, afraid to violate the outdated precepts of your ancestors?" Approving shouts came from the hall. "Gentlemen, I believe you can make the right decision."
With that, Papadopoulos finished his speech and looked smugly at his ideological opponent. It seemed that this fat beetle had just earned even more points in his favor.
About five minutes later, the speaker asked for silence, and the seething of the masses in the hall subsided.
"I understand that many of you are already leaning toward choosing one of the projects, but before we proceed to the vote, I would like to conduct a test, pit the two approaches against each other, and determine which proves more advantageous. What do the project leaders think about this? Arnold Schwarzkopf, you have the floor."
Finally, I got to hear the name of my main competitor. Yesterday, he had somehow managed to explain everything without even introducing himself.
"Good afternoon, gentlemen. I think a simple duel will clarify everything. To be more fair, I propose to field two groups of opponents with the same production cost." With these words, Arnold looked at me with a smirk.
"What is your response to this proposal, Samael Tamuz?"
"I'm afraid that if we observe such a ratio, we'd have to pit one and a half robots against a million of my soldiers. After all, vritras can create their bodies literally from dirt. And they don't need expensive factories, transportation, or skilled personnel for this. Life is capable of sustaining itself." I returned the contemptuous smirk to the local terminator. "However, I agree to slight concessions on my part. My team of eight vritras against eight hundred terminators. I'm sure the final score of the battle will be eight hundred to zero."
Schwarzkopf turned red with rage at these words and looked ready to attack me with his fists. But after a few seconds, he pulled himself together and even managed a crooked smile.
"Excellent! You suggested it yourself. My institute has enough prototypes to begin this ludicrous competition."
"Don't worry about that." The speaker interjected. "We have already brought all research stations into orbit around the planet. The competition will begin at the military training ground in two hours. Can you provide your participants by that time?" He asked me.
"Certainly. My bodyguards will handle this simple task."
All those present turned their gaze to my eight minions, who were successfully impersonating furniture near the entrance to the presidium.
With that, the meeting ended, and I was escorted to a separate office. There, to my surprise, Papadopoulos was already waiting for me.
"Mr. Nikos, what a pleasant surprise." I greeted him.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Samael. I don't have much time, so I'll be brief. Do you still remember our conversation three years ago?"
"Of course. I understand that the current mood on the Council is the result of your hard work. I can grant you immortality at any moment, after which you can repeat this procedure with any of your supporters."
Papadopoulos's eyes lit up dangerously.
"Can you do it right now?"
"I can. But I would recommend that you first worry about the proper disposal of your old body and the availability of materials to create a new one."
"Yes, you're right." The schemer calmed down. "Can you give me equipment that I can use to perform my own conversion?"
"Equipment? Let me think."
I estimated how such a trick could be organized. The main problem was extracting the soul from the body and placing it into the crystal. Without proper control, it was quite possible to 'ressurect' the wrong person, which would be truly unfortunate. Finally, I formed in my mind a construct that, through a fusion of magic and technology, could perform the work of the 'meat grinder' while being sufficiently compact.
"I need a consumable. Some electronic device weighing a couple of kilograms."
Nikos thought for a second, then turned to his guards.
"Bring a microwave from the break room."
Five minutes later, I received said item. It didn't have as much silicon as I needed, so I had to 'eat' a computer monitor as well. Not wanting to disturb the people around me with the process of literally devouring technology, I simply plunged it into my torso, where it was broken down into atoms by the spell system supporting the body's existence. After that, I spent ten minutes synthesizing the required device, embedding the necessary spells into it.
Finally, I pulled a wide metal cylinder from my abdomen, somewhat resembling a large plate a dozen centimeters thick. A dimly glowing soul crystal was visible in the center of this device.
"Lie on your back, place the device on your chest with the crystal facing up, and keep your hand on the crystal for one minute. You must have enough building material for a new body nearby. You will get the organics from your own body, so you will additionally need silicon and aluminum. The program for synthesizing new crystals and the spell for converting a human are already encoded in your future soul vessel."
"Thank you." Papadopoulos extended trembling hands toward the device and greedily grabbed it. A predatory expression appeared on the council member's face. "I think that after my supporters undergo conversion, the council will witness a terrorist attack orchestrated by vampires, after which your project will be accepted unanimously."
"Goodbye." I bowed, watching the back of the quickly departing future speaker of the council. He didn't even glance back at me, rushing forward with the persistence of a locomotive. Heh, it seemed my victory was predetermined. I just needed to grind my opponent into the dirt, and then I could rest on my laurels.
The military base greeted us with uneven gray walls devoid of any finishing. Apparently, this building had been constructed only a few hours ago. This was also indicated by the portable tactical system displaying a map of the training ground. Through the window, we could see orderly rows of humanoid-shaped robots. Another five of these tin cans, slightly different in color, were in the room, acting as bodyguards for my opponent. Apparently, he too had faced some environmental resistance in the form of assassination attempts on his life.
Besides us, there were military representatives in the room, preparing to monitor the progress of the confrontation. The Council was watching us remotely, not bothering to drag their voluminous posteriors out of their comfortable chairs. A middle-aged man in a uniform laden with medals approached us and began the briefing.
"So, Arnold Schwarzkopf, Samael Tamuz, everything is ready for the test. You will need to send your troops to the points indicated on the map, after which I will give the command to start the battle. You may use any weapons and tactics. The training ground will be covered by a powerful force field, so you don't have to worry about collateral damage. The barrier can withstand even a hundred-megaton nuclear explosion. Unfortunately, it also blocks electromagnetic radiation quite well, so you could call this a night battle. We will observe events using remote surveillance devices. But as you understand, these devices may be destroyed by stray fire. The most reliable observation tool is a spatial scanner. But it can only provide tactical information, not images. This is a fight to the death, so the use of delaying and ambush tactics should be limited. Any combat unit may mask itself for no more than two consecutive minutes, followed by a one-minute break. The goal for both sides is to reach this hundred-meter diameter circle, and then destroy the enemies located there. If a combat unit can enter the circle but does not do so, it will be considered out of the battle. If a soldier enters the circle but leaves it for more than ten seconds, they will also be counted as a loss. If I tell you someone is out of the battle, you must command that unit to cease fire and retreat beyond the boundaries of the circle. Questions?"
I turned my gaze to my opponent.
"What is considered a sign of the enemy's inability to continue fighting?" He asked.
"Absence of offensive activity for two minutes."
"No more questions."
The general looked at me.
"They just need to go and destroy everything that looks like a robot. What questions could there be? Five minutes' work."
The military man nodded and gave the order to deploy the troops. Arnold began fiddling with some wrist gadget that, judging by appearances, allowed him to control the robots. I contacted my team via telepathic communication. Ten minutes later, all preparations were complete, and a hemisphere of darkness rose over the training ground.
One of the officers approached us and decided to give a little explanation.
"This force field is called a darkness shield. The dimming function is a way to protect against light-based damage factors. For example, during a nuclear explosion or from laser radiation. It's daytime now, so sunlight activates this barrier function, hiding what's happening from us. But at night, it's almost transparent, allowing us to observe events in the optical range."
"Ten-second readiness." Came the voice of the operator managing the tactical system.
I turned my gaze to the screen with interest, simultaneously receiving information from my troops via the telepathic channel. The barrier had no effect on the effectiveness of this communication method.
Dub gave the command, and his entire group ran forward. Impenetrable darkness surrounded them, but a very small amount of light still penetrated the dome, so their hyper-sensitive eyes provided a reasonably decent picture. The terrain was rugged. Bushes and trees interspersed with deep craters with melted edges and small hills with steep slopes.
Several robots appeared ahead, deciding to meet the enemy first. They were immediately met with armor-piercing spells. Unfortunately, the distance was too great, and the tin cans managed to dodge or raise shields. After all, a computer's reaction time surpasses a human's, even if the human is in a more advanced body. However, that didn't matter. At close range, the main parameters would be movement speed and weapon striking power.
A dozen robots, one of which was larger than the others, emerged from the bushes. This encounter came as a surprise to neither side, so an exchange of fire immediately ensued, resulting in the destruction of one robot caught in the crossfire of four vritras. The enemy's defenses were considerable, so weak spells simply slid off their armor.
The tenth, large robot aimed its weapon at Mark and fired something truly devastating, literally tearing Mark to pieces. Fortunately, the shot wasn't instantaneous, so the target had time to move their soul stone to their leg, pulling it out of harm's way.
"One unit destroyed on each side." The tracking system operator commented. Arnold looked at me victoriously.
"Enough fooling around." I sent a telepathic command. "This isn't a training exercise."
Kirill responded with mental agreement and delivered a mental blow to his subordinates. Immediately, hundreds of spells rained down on the robots, turning them into smoking electronic mincemeat. But before the vritras could celebrate their victory, another three dozen enemies slid out from behind a small hill. It seemed the terminators planned to destroy the enemy on the approach to the designated battle area.
Mark Tri had lost most of his body, so he burrowed into the ground, regenerating his mass using the surrounding matter. Unfortunately, the titanium content in the soil was close to zero, so he had to use the 'civilian' filler variant. Six vritras charged forward, engaging the main mass of enemies, while Mateo stayed behind to cover his comrade.
Another dozen robots emerged from the flank and charged at the seemingly lone target. As one of them ran past Mark's 'death' site, he burst out of the ground and struck the terminator in the chest with his hand, penetrating the armor. The remaining nine were destroyed by massed magical fire from Mateo. The robots fired back, of course, but at most they managed to punch a couple of holes in the target, which healed within seconds.
"He's tasty!" Surprise was evident in Mark's telepathic message. "So many different metals. Titanium, too."
A second later, his body began to be sucked into the robot through the hole he'd made. The tin can tried to resist, but within seconds, its electronic innards dissolved and became part of the vritras's body.
"Handy outfit." Mark noted, flowing into all the technical cavities and absorbing everything he considered superfluous. The last part of his body disappeared into the robot's chest and mimicked the armor, closing the hole. Externally, he now looked like another terminator. "It even has some protective magic woven into the armor. And the composition is decent. A nanocomposite of tungsten carbide, titanium, chromium, and a pinch of nickel."
"Enough savoring his taste already." Came Kirill's irritated thought. "Come in from the flank."
The two of them immediately set off, circling the hill. Mateo changed his shape as he ran, also pretending to be a robot.
"We need to jam them to disrupt their identification friend or foe system." He suggested.
"Go ahead and do it, then." Kirill replied. "Set up a stationary jammer with an adaptive scrambling module."
"That'll take a couple of minutes."
Mateo changed course and disappeared into the bushes covering the hill. Not a single branch stirred on his path to the top. The vritras's body flowed around all obstacles like a liquid.
Mark ran onto the battlefield, taking the high ground, from where he bombarded a large group of robots with an area-of-effect spell. The 'acid cloud' not only corroded armor but also reduced the already low visibility. The six vritras dove into the fog and began carving the robots to pieces. The 'betrayal' of one of the terminators was so unexpected that none of the enemies even tried to prevent the use of the area spell, even though it required a minimum of a couple of seconds to cast.
A minute later, the entire group of robots was destroyed, and five of the eight vritras had acquired stylish armored suits. Such protection proved not superfluous, as some terminators had quite insidious weapons that could penetrate magical shields. Judging by the enemy's tactics, they hoped to tear the vritras into small enough pieces that they couldn't regenerate. The new advanced armor proved an excellent countermeasure to this approach.
Meanwhile, in the observation post, a tragedy of its own was unfolding.
"I've lost the signature of five vritras." An officer reported. "But instead, the radar shows five targets that are not identified as either humans or robots."
"And what's on camera?"
"All drones and stationary cameras in the combat zone have been destroyed. According to records, both sides were actively involved in this act of vandalism."
The general gave us a disapproving look and then focused again on the screen with tactical information. I also looked at Arnold. His face showed all the signs of approaching panic.
"Don't worry so much." I 'encouraged' him. "It's just a game of higher-order entities."
"You don't understand! If I lose... He... He'll do THAT to me again! Or come up with something else."
Yeah... tough life for a pawn. Good thing I'm winning. Heh-heh-heh.
Ten minutes later, eight vritras, clad in almost intact terminator suits, stood in the designated zone, lazily looking around.
"Has anyone counted how many we've killed?" Narayan inquired, twirling a 'spare helmet' in his hands that he found more aesthetically pleasing than the one on the model he'd taken over.
"A lot." Mateo Idalgo replied thoughtfully. "More than three, certainly. But it doesn't matter. If they don't attack within two minutes, they automatically lose."
"Is counting to three all you know?"
"I don't need more than that."
The lazy exchange continued until the force shield deactivated and the ground around them was flooded with bright sunlight.
"Detecting the end of combat operations. Eight objects of an unknown nature are located in the center of the designated zone. Two minutes have passed, winner determined. We just need to figure out which side these objects belong to." The tactical officer reported.
"Lower the shield." The general commanded, looking at us. I projected calm, while Arnold stood frozen like a wax statue, also expressionless. "Hey, you there, drag your fat backsides over here." The general shouted over the loudspeaker.
The eight figures exchanged glances and then rushed towards us with rapid leaps. Meanwhile, we all filed out of the building and turned our attention to the line of trees from behind which the victors should emerge.
"I told you my robots would win!" Arnold exclaimed joyfully as soon as he spotted silhouettes among the dense vegetation. He laughed happily, but there was a hysterical note in that laughter.
Meanwhile, the eight 'robots' approached us, and the one on the end removed his head, revealing Kirill's human head underneath.
"Boss, can we order more of these suits? They just need a little tweaking; the joints are a bit unreliable in places."
My opponent hiccuped loudly and stared with bulging eyes.
"This can't be! Those are my robots!"
"Only on the outside." Mark laughed, also pulling off his helmet. "But if it makes you feel better, they were pretty tasty."
"No! You're not them! Destroy them!" Apparently, Arnold's mind had completely melted down. The terminators guarding him reacted to the command, immediately aiming their weapons at the vritras.
"Don't ruin the trophies!" Narayan exclaimed, charging into hand-to-hand combat.
A scuffle immediately ensued, accompanied by heavy fire from the robots. My bodyguards couldn't use their full strength because there were too many military personnel around. A couple of blaster shots flew past the stupefied Arnold, and I had a brilliant idea.
A light mental nudge to Kirill was simultaneously perceived by the whole team, and following my wish, Frank used magic to slightly deflect one of the blaster shots, which ended up hitting Arnold square in the forehead. The lifeless body fell to the ground, and the robots' resistance ceased immediately.
"Master death registered. Activating self-destruct protocol." Hummed the 'culprit' of one figure's premature death, and then exploded, peppering those nearby with fragments of its armor. A second later, the same fate befell all the other terminators in the vicinity.
I healed the damage to my body and stared at the mangled corpse of the man who, essentially, wasn't even my enemy. Waste not, want not?
"I offer this figure as a sacrifice to the Judge."
Immediately, the world exploded with energies, and I felt my soul torn from the crystal, which instantly crumbled into sand due to its activated self-destruct system. I didn't want a single full copy of the Vritras to remain in this world after my death. Meanwhile, my soul appeared before five terrifying images, almost impossible to perceive because of the power emanating from them.
"How dare you break the rules?" Wailed one of the images. "You killed my figure!"
"He killed himself." I tried to plead.
"Idiot!" I heard the Being whisper.
"You acknowledged his death at your hands when you offered him as a sacrifice to me." The Judge's indifferent voice intoned.
"The Being must be punished!"
"Objection! According to the rules governing the use of game abilities, I receive no consequences from this kill, regardless of whether they are positive or negative."
"Then the responsibility lies with the Judge!" The unknown image persisted. The other two remaining entities remained silent.
"You ask too much. I am not subject to your judgment." The Judge retorted. "You agreed to the rules of this game."
"Then he must be punished!" The accuser's fiery finger pointed directly at me.
"It is I who decides who, for what, and how to punish." The Judge carefully examined me, piercing my soul with an icy gaze. "I will take two of his energy centers for myself. And he will start the next game in one of my worlds."
Then unbearable pain pierced my soul, and I felt my two 'tails' ripped away, leaving gaping wounds.
"And for now, I'm taking him." Being reached its hands out to me. "The game is still ongoing. Both this minor one and the major one."
Two almost imperceptible patches were placed over my wounds, turning agony into merely unbearable torment. Then darkness enveloped me, and my consciousness went out."