“Tower 4. One hundred percent complete. Requesting retrieval!”

  “Tower 1 full. Send in the retrieval units.”

  “Tower 8 at seventy-nine percent. Estimating completion at thirty minutes.”

  “Tower 2 complete!”

  “Tower 6 at eighty-four percent. Standby on retrievers.”

  The swirling mass of colors that screened the night sky above Luminberg was gradually dissolving into a translucent light-blue dome. At last, what the Wizards’ Wall looked like without the harmful radiance tainting it was shown before the Imperial Army. The vibrant terror wreaked by the unknown mechanisms was dissipating; those on the ground were greeted by the raw whiteness from the moon above.

  Several transport disks appeared from within and beyond the contested city. Batches of twelve to fifteen mechanisms zipped their way to the ancient towers, where the Gray Fox’s men awaited them. Pillars of the dissolving light shone down on the vessels, each of which contained glowing rocks of seven colors. The priority items were mostly secured, and the squads of men and machines belonging to the ones responsible were gradually pulled out of the fight.

  This movement did not escape the Imperial Army’s watchful eyes. These criminals dressed in shadow must be put to justice, and these fighting men wasted no time trying to catch them.

  Kriemreich’s soldiers fanned towards Towers 6 and 8. The facilities’ collection of magical energies was hampered when the unknown interlopers of Tower 7 disabled the facilities. Now that most of the machinery accomplished the task of collecting the needed mana, the opening left by the untimely destruction of Tower 7’s devices was being exploited by a more determined force of Imperial soldiers. Constructs took up the first line of defense; rapid-firing guns made crossfire zones that stopped the army unit’s advance.

  · · ─ ·?· ─ · ·

  “What in the nether…”

  “You have claw monsters, a giant fire-breathing monster, and now... metal monsters with guns. Damnably fortunate we are.”

  “Is the Creator punishing us?”

  “Stay put, men! We’ll crush them with rockets and cannon.”

  It was a rough realization for many of the House Melvich Army members. Their units were forced to hide behind walls when a group of unknown metal-clad entities opened up streams of bullets to stop the advance. Soldiers who got split-seconds to line up their sights fired back, only to hear a keen ‘ping!’ when their rifles hit the machines’ bodies.

  “Move! Fast.” An officer pointed in a direction with his machine pistol; behind him were a pair carrying a rocket tube and its ammunition. “Get those stovepipes up their flanks.”

  The rubble of a Luminberger’s house made good cover for a pair of rocket soldiers. Every moment counted; fragments of masonry protecting trapped colleagues from the bullet-showering automatons chipped away every second. An ear-hammering huff, followed by a dark smoke trail. The rocket burst into a cloud of fire upon hitting the construct’s left side. A burning machine, yet it attempted to regain balance to track and fire with its still-capable gun. The fighting construct was blown to pieces when a second rocket struck overhead. Two other battle automatons climbed up the ruins and shot back at the hidden Imperial army men.

  The arrival of the only working cannon tractor was a welcome sight to the pinned and embattled soldiers trying to occupy Tower 6. A direct hit from the main gun struck one of the defending mechanical warriors, reducing it to a scattered mess of charred metal. It was about to line up to destroy another machine when a replacement automaton arrived and took over. It did not wield the automatic gun that the Imperial Army had the displeasure of facing, but a longer shoulder-mounted cannon atop a four-legged platform. The mechanical humanoid aimed at the positioned gun tractor, whose turret was being directed at the new threat.

  The crew inside saw a blinding flash coming out of the weapon; the driver’s eyes widened, unable to move from his seat until the loader grabbed him by the arm and yanked him out.

  A current of searing yellow-white energy formed on the unfamiliar weapon’s barrel, which coursed into a beam that went through the aft area of the Imperial Army’s war machine. Smoke piped out of the vehicle’s uppermost areas; the side door burst open to let a group of men abandon the war tractor right before it exploded into a burning hulk. The mechanism with the strange weapon withdrew from the fighting; a conventional, bullet-showering equivalent took its place, pinning soldiers in their positions with suppressive fire.

  The ongoing chaos allowed a small group of flying machines to go almost unnoticed. Some entered their designated tower, while others stopped right at the entrance. Beams of light descended at various points; some of them from afar. Slowly but surely, those defending the tower thinned in number, whisked away from the site of battle by the disk-shaped contraptions. The aerial devices made a straight upward flight; Kriemreich’s soldiers tried to shoot the machines down, but none of them scored a hit.

  As gunfire, screams, and loud orders dissipated into a crackling silence, men wielding telescopes and maps watched the flying anomalies. They did not attempt to bring down the unknown machines, unlike the soldiers below, and instead began sketching on blank sheets and drawing lines on their maps. This group exited the site the moment the aerial disks were no longer seen in the sky.

  · · ─ ·?· ─ · ·

  The squad was ready to roll out when Rinvar de Melvich received a report of two strangers carrying a woman out of besieged Luminberg. An anomaly, since aerial surveys concluded that no one but a group of strange, armed men that converged on the Wizards’ Wall towers was active when the city went silent. What he did not understand at first glance was the photograph of the southeast tower base obscured in bright whiteness. Included in the picture were flaming remains, but he wasn’t sure if those were from the enemy or celebratory effects that overheated and burned.

  Regardless, the best way to answer his questions was to be present at the site itself.

  Rinvar traced the steps taken by the two foreign men when they left Luminberg at the height of chaos. If memory served him right, the path he was walking on was supposed to lead to the Southeast Tower. Gunfire and the periodic crackling and hissing flames penetrated the thick stone walls. It should not be that loud, Rinvar thought; the doors guarding these antiquated tunnels were sealed in ways that made sound impossible to enter. He looked at the stairs that led upward to the tower’s emergency escape. The door was shut, but it opened without effort. There was a heavy, shrill creak, followed by the clicking of mechanisms that held the thick steel door open.

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  The second door was left open, and he presumed this was how the escapees, or perhaps refugees, entered the structure. Another door that led to the top floor housed the tower’s controls. Fires in the shape of irregular leaves appeared near the ceiling. Rinvar looked up at the sky; the prismatic layer that had thrown Luminberg into disaster was no longer present. The semitransparent blue depicted in books of long ago stood in its place; the benevolent shield of magical power that kept the first Luminbergers from harm came to view. A tragedy, he thought. This would have been a mark of pain to anyone who was not immediately put to sleep by the vile system. He also wondered what the paramilitary’s goal was in installing such a machine on the ancient defensive layer.

  The clash of bullets and bombs was dying down, and Rinvar was more likely to meet up with the House Melvich’s main body of units. Other men followed behind him, guns trained to fire at enemies yet to be seen. Some of them looked closer at the inactive machines at the top of the tower. Others went outside, ahead of the captain, searching for more clues that could yield answers to what took place and why.

  He continued to survey the surroundings. At the corner was a man in undergarments, brought to unconsciousness probably by the earlier accursed phenomenon. He was bound and gagged, but still breathing. This person might have been one of the sources of the uniforms of the escaped non-Imperials, and he would come in handy for a later interrogation. Rinvar grabbed him from under the shoulders, and the knocked-out man was deposited in an empty waste bin nearby. The container was sealed with a broken metal rod.

  Rinvar continued with his surveying. On the ground were small bits of burnt black. A closer inspection showed that these were the same charred objects retrieved from the Antikwald. He remembered that the monster the Imperial Army engaged outside the gates breathed fire that burned through metal in short order. He would have heard the same dreadful roar by now; a creature the height of three men standing atop each other would not be difficult to spot. He took a few grains; his free hand tried to pull something out from his breast pocket. No vial. Farin would have been disappointed in his lack of foresight. But then, who expected a city-wide tragedy to take place at a time when people were supposed to be celebrating? There were other remains of the battle that proved interesting. Sections of guns, with very few of them looking barely intact, were found on the ground. None of them were usable; a force seemed to have heated and fused the weapons’ bodies with their internals.

  “Some badly made wall hangers, these are going to be...”

  Behind the investigator were the smoking remains: red-hot embers and scars from charring on some parts of its frame. Large machines, though each of these was compact enough to be carried by men on their backs. Most of his father’s soldiers were pushing the assailants out of the city at this time. It was a strange sight: bullet casings littered the ground not far from the tower, yet there was nothing around the place but ash. Rinvar picked up a clump of dark-colored grits, rolling it between his fingertips.

  “Metallic ash. Were these bullets?”

  There was no doubt; it smelled of propellant, but merged with the bullet it was meant to help deliver. Unable to find a small bag to store the dust—and a spare pocket to dump the grits in, Rinvar returned the pinch to the ground.

  “Was there infighting between the members, or did those men fight another monster inside the city?”

  The concert grounds, the heart of the Evening of the Defense celebrations, were nearby. Rinvar’s men set up their communications devices, probing for a good spot to place a spiral antenna almost as tall as a rifle. It was also the best time to deal with personal matters. Knowing Old Demian and his preferred active role in the ceremonies, he would have been outside the safety of Brillanz.

  A pair of operators turned dials and flicked switches, tuning in to match the frequencies those from House Melvich’s primary force were using. Loose statements from other broadcasts were caught, however:

  “Is this a declaration-”

  “The Empire at War-”

  “Has the Emperor been too lenient-”

  Two and a half minutes later, gunfire exchanges and shouted orders from troops inside the city crackled on the speakers.

  “Situation report.”

  “It is as the Director has advised, Captain.” Whistling winds chopped up the reply, though none of the context was lost. “Those flying disks are present. Should we shoot them down?”

  “Try not to, just follow where they finally stop.” Rinvar drew the microphone close. “We’re not going to get in the way of the Army if they’re the ones dealing with them.”

  “Affirmative.”

  Rinvar approached the wrecks, metal pyres of the mechanical fighters that once terrorized Altrecht. New models, he thought. Armored legs, a longer-barreled gun, and a heavier, albeit sleeker, protective envelope all over its body. Fires hissed out of vents and openings in their bodies; their destruction was more likely due to something piercing their energy cores from overhead. A more curious design, probably a newer model, was found facing the tower. Burning and standing still, like the rest of the others. Dying fires were forced from the machine's backpack-like attachments; the sweet smell of coolant and the heavy scent of core fluid. Its weapon, the remains of a shoulder-mounted apparatus, lay around the machine as pieces of bent metal and shattered crystal.

  Was this the work of the ‘Angel’? Did it move out of Altrecht? Perhaps there was more than one of them in the realm.

  He drew something wrapped in foil from his jacket pocket. A small black bar, which he broke into a bite-sized portion and brought it to his mouth; a bittersweet taste covered his tongue in moments. One of his men, returning from a surveillance run, opened his report with:

  “Captain, Sir. We’ve found a group.”

  “They’re awake?” Rinvar wrapped the candy bar again and put it in his pocket.

  “Mostly dizzy, Captain. Some are complaining of headaches.” The subordinate replied, “There’s a boy who is wide awake. The lights inside are unbelievable.”

  “Lights?” Rinvar checked his pistol and set it back on his belt. “Only the Wizards’ Wall should be lit right now. Take me to the boy, please.”

  Rinvar took two other men with him; the rest were left to watch over the southeastern tower to look for clues. He was led to the only business that served Etererian cuisine in Luminberg. The windows were closed, with one of Farin’s operatives standing guard by the door. Just like what the operative said, the lights were on, even as the rest of the city drowned in darkness. A boy stood near the bodies of what the investigator presumed were his parents; in his hand was a small piece of crystal that glowed brighter than the other lights in the place.

  “Are they your parents?”

  The boy looked back at the bodies. Both were breathing, and they were breaking into abrupt snoring. He looked back at Rinvar and nodded.

  “Can I see that? What are you holding?”

  Palms opened, the source of the brilliance was a small trinket: one that the ?therlicht’s believers kept in their pockets. A rough outline of a winged being carved out of quartz, lined with silver, and something that looked like gold. Rinvar did not take it from the boy’s hands and instead asked:

  “Where did you get this?”

  “It was from a nice lady.” The boy swallowed twice before speaking. “She was bright and shiny, and she was all blue, and she had two friends.”

  “Don’t forget to find and thank her, okay?” Rinvar looked at the street outside. “Some of us will stay with you and make sure all of us here will be okay.”

  Rinvar should be no stranger to these lights, yet he was no less baffled to find that neither electricity nor the magical energy coming out of an Academy student’s hand powered the crystal bulbs. This was definitely a curiosity Elena would have looked into had she been here. He checked the kitchen in an unexpected turn of events. The old chef running the place sprawled on the floor; his rough breathing told the captain that he could still treat his wife to this place long after this incident was resolved, or at least when the city was made safe again.

  It was time to look for the City Magister. Knowing Old Demian, he led the opening ceremony like years before. The stage where the program took place was not far from this restaurant. Fires broke out of some of the establishments; unattended kitchens turning booths and buildings into grim guiding lights. Though thick, the smoke was not as suffocating as Rinvar thought it would.

  That meant he still had to hurry.

  “Get the firemen here.” Rinvar tapped a Bureau operative on the shoulder and looked ahead. “I’ll get the City Magister, if he’s there.”

  It was hard to navigate through the maze of groaning bodies and toppled objects. The captain and four of his men were careful not to step on someone while they sped past. Demian Silbern was found slumping on the backstage; his mouth half-open and with slow, arrhythmic breaths. Rinvar rushed to lay the old man flat on his back.

  “Hey, Magister.” Rinvar tapped Demian on the cheek. “You’re going to be all right, do you hear?”

  Fortunately for the captain, the city administrator responded by closing his mouth and twitching his right hand. Good news to bring once Elena woke up.