The thing made of metal spheres had assembled itself right in front of him, now towering over Derek like a walking monument of polished ruin. Its voice still echoed through the vast cavern and inside his head. The words refused to fit into anything that made sense.

  At least it didn’t look hostile. If it had wanted him dead, he’d already be a smear on the floor.

  But what the hell was that question supposed to mean?

  Derek blinked. “Come again?”

  “Repair. Repair. Repair!” the creature repeated, its voice metallic and distorted, bouncing off the stone walls like an alarm.

  The intention was impossible to read, but the word itself had been clear enough… they were just utterly pointless here. What was there to repair? The moss-covered walls? The puddles?

  The place was nothing but crumbling masonry, packed dirt, and those strange sphere-creatures scattered around.

  Sunny and Shade drifted closer, positioning themselves on either side of him. No weapons deployed. That was something. At least they didn’t consider the giant an immediate threat.

  After his initial attempt to flee, Erasmus had stopped midway, turned, and crept back toward the creature. Step by cautious step, as if drawn by some invisible thread, he stared at the towering construct, an amalgam of smaller metal spheres fused into a single shape.

  Now he stood motionless, his body tense, caught between fear and fascination. Whatever that thing was, it had him spellbound.

  “Repair. Repair. Repair!” the creature thundered again, louder this time, each word rattling through the cavern floor.

  Derek rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh… okay. If you tell me what you want me to fix, I’ll take a look.”

  It was hard to imagine any of this making technological sense. This world ran on glowing crystals and “magic” spheres that fell from the sky. His toolbox wasn’t going to be much help here.

  The metallic voice echoed again, rough and distorted. “Look?”

  “Yeah… I mean, I’ll see if it’s something I can repair.”

  “You can.”

  Derek blinked. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.” He gestured toward the narrow passage behind the creature. “That way?”

  The construct tilted its—whatever counted as a head—toward his hand. If that could even be called looking, given it didn’t have anything close to eyes.

  With a series of clanging sounds like pots and pans colliding, the thing turned and started down the tunnel he’d pointed to.

  They followed quickly.

  Sunny, Shade, and Chuck took up the rear. Apparently even Chuck had decided the giant metal thing wasn’t hostile; he kept scanning the shadows instead, guarding their backs.

  Derek threw a glance over his shoulder.

  Erasmus trailed behind, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

  “What?” Derek asked.

  Erasmus wiped his brow, still staring at the golem. “I’ve seen depictions of that creature… very old ones. They date back to when the sanctuary still stood on the surface, and pilgrims traveled from every corner of Narkhara to visit and pray to Orbisar.”

  Derek rubbed his beard. “Okay… still waiting for the interesting part.”

  “It’s said that guardians like him once traveled aboard the vessels that sailed the skies of the Ancients.”

  “Uh-huh… so we’re talking Wardilai starships. And those things traveled with them.” He nodded toward the metal giant. “You said the little spheres it’s made of were repair units, basically builders. Makes sense they handled ship maintenance too. Damn, the Wardilai really had a thing for spheres.”

  A short sigh escaped him. “Back home, people would kill to get their hands on a single working Wardilai drone. And no, that’s not just a figure of speech.”

  Erasmus stepped closer and gripped his arm, voice tight. “What I’m saying is that no one has seen those golems for thousands of years.” He swallowed. “Not since the Ancients left Elyndra.”

  Derek froze, pulse spiking. Thousands? Five thousand years, maybe more. His gaze locked on the golem. “Then what the hell are they doing here now?”

  Erasmus didn’t answer. He just kept staring, eyes wide and unblinking.

  Derek’s own narrowed. “There’s something else you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

  The archivist’s voice fell to a whisper, more to himself than to Derek. “You… you really are the Cashnar.”

  Not a question.

  “And what makes you say that? Because of the tin man up ahead?”

  Erasmus clasped his hands together in prayer, murmuring words too soft to catch.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  Derek frowned. “Don’t start with your superstitions again. Spit it out.”

  Erasmus stirred, eyes glistening as he met Derek’s gaze. “If this ancient golem has returned… if the Cashnar has come… then the end of times is near. The Ancients will return to Elyndra, and we shall witness the final battle against the Demons from the sky.”

  Derek rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh… and besides this doomsday rant, nothing actually useful?”

  Erasmus didn’t answer. Eyes closed, lips moving in silent devotion.

  The metal being stopped. The path ahead ended at a narrow opening, far too small for something its size.

  It extended one long arm toward the hole. “Here. Repair.”

  That hole could’ve led anywhere and the last thing he wanted was to crawl inside it. But pissing off the giant metal thing seemed like an even worse idea.

  Derek stepped closer and crouched beside it. A faint silvery glow pulsed deeper inside the tunnel, flickering against the damp stone. Whatever it was, the thing clearly wanted him to see it.

  “Repair!” the being repeated.

  Derek grimaced. “Yeah, you said that already.” He looked around the chamber. “Alright, here’s the plan. Shade and Sunny, you’re with me. We’ll check out what needs fixing.” He jerked his chin toward the opening. “Let’s see if there’s actually something in there worth the effort.”

  “Repair!” the creature thundered again, shaking the air.

  Derek scowled. “Hey, knock it off, can’t you see I’m talking?” He sighed. “Anyway, if this turns out to be some stupid trap, you and Chuck stay out here, Erasmus. Try not to run away this time and maybe help me out if I get stuck. If it’s not too much trouble.”

  He nodded toward the giant metal thing still pointing at the hole. “Not that it’d need traps to mess me up.” He turned to Chuck. “If it turns hostile, keep it busy long enough for Erasmus to get clear.”

  The small rocky creature didn’t move. Impossible to tell if it had understood a single word. Oh well. He’d just have to trust it.

  The archivist blinked. “But… how could that little thing possibly deal with such a Legendary creature?”

  The metal creature stood motionless, impossible to read.

  “Yeah,” Derek said, “Chuck’s tougher than he looks. Wouldn’t surprise me if he could beat the crap out of that shiny lamp post.”

  Erasmus frowned. “I am not sure I grasp every nuance of your… slang. But the metal golem of the Ancients is no threat to us. If the texts are true, he is a guardian and protector. As long as we pose no danger to the Wardilai’s property, he will not harm us.”

  Derek raised a brow. “If those are the same texts that talk about Demons falling from the sky, I’d keep my eyes open if I were you.”

  He turned to his bots. “Let’s go see what we’re dealing with.”

  Crouching low, he stepped into the passage.

  The ceiling pressed close, forcing him to hunch so he wouldn’t crack his helmet on the rock. The faint hum of servos behind him confirmed the bots were following.

  He moved deeper, each step echoing against the walls. The flashlight carved a narrow cone through the dark, cutting through dust and shadow alike.

  The rough stone soon gave way to something darker, smoother, almost seamless. He swept the beam across it, then ran a gloved hand along the surface. Smooth. Too smooth. Not stone. Not brick. Some kind of alloy, maybe. Warm under his touch, with a faint vibration pulsing just beneath.

  A blinking light flashed a few feet ahead. The same silvery glow he’d seen earlier. Derek crept closer. One wall panel sat slightly ajar, the light leaking through a narrow gap.

  He paused and swept the beam across the corridor. Everything else looked intact. That had to be the “malfunction” the metal giant wanted fixed.

  “Guess this is it,” he muttered.

  He hooked a finger under the panel’s edge and pulled. It barely moved.

  He turned to the bots. “Hey, you guys got anything—”

  Sunny buzzed over, hovering a few inches from his shoulder, a small object extended from one of its metal arms.

  Derek took it and blinked. A mini field-repair kit. Almost identical to the one he used to keep inside NOVA for emergencies. Out here, that kind of tool could mean the difference between walking away and dying in a crater.

  “Hey… thanks.” He gave a small nod. At this point, he didn’t even need to give them orders. They just knew. Their situational awareness was getting eerily close to Vanda’s. Almost made him wonder if they’d ever figure out speech.

  He popped the kit open and pulled out a Mag-Latch Spanner. The lock didn’t look magnetic, but it’d do for leverage. He jammed the tool under the edge and yanked. On the second pull, the panel came loose and hit the floor with a metallic crash.

  The faint silver glow flared into a blinding beam that hit him square in the face. Derek flinched, eyes squeezed shut, until the glare dimmed enough to look again.

  He’d been ready for the usual local nonsense: glowing crystals, maybe a few rainbow fairies pulling levers or something equally stupid.

  But this wasn’t that.

  Circuitry. Memory banks. Processors.

  The kind of thing he used to study at Xyphos Dynamics, back before he’d decided stealing and selling it on the black market was a far better use of his time.

  Ancient Wardilai technology.

  Finally, something that actually made sense.

  “Holy hell…” Derek almost dropped the tool.

  “Derek?” Vanda’s voice came through his earpiece, steady, but with a hint of concern. “Your vocal tone indicates an unusual level of agitation for you.”

  “You can bet I’m agitated, Vanda. We’ve got Wardilai tech here… same signature as the black pyramid, same kind as the other ruins we found. Actual technology, you know? Not the usual glittering magic junk.”

  “Understood. Can you determine its function?”

  “No,” Derek said flatly. “But we ran into some kind of robot servant that asked for help fixing it.”

  “And you offered to assist?” Vanda’s tone carried more than a trace of surprise.

  “I might’ve forgotten to mention the robot servant was several meters tall and didn’t exactly look like the type that takes no for an answer.”

  “I see. Do you think you can complete the repair?”

  Derek rubbed his beard, lips twisting in thought. “We’re talking alien tech that’s, what, millions of years ahead of ours? No idea what it’s doing here or what it’s supposed to do.” He gave a half-shrug. “Yeah, sure. I’ll wing it.”

  A crackle of static filled his ears, sharp and uneven. Derek tapped the earpiece a couple of times, but the noise only dulled instead of fading.

  “I’m getting highly unstable readings on your position,” Vanda said. “The radio link is barely holding. I might lose the signal at any moment. Do you still have the repeater with you?”

  Derek patted a chest pocket. “Yeah, got it right here.”

  “Good. If you find any opening to the surface, activate it immediately. I’ll track the signal and, if possible, come retrieve you.”

  “Thanks, Vanda. If our tall shiny friend lets us through, the path keeps going deeper. No idea if we’ll hit any breaks in the rock on the way down. The Citadel’s built right into this hill. But if I spot even a sliver of daylight, you’ll be the first to know.”

  A burst of static drowned out whatever Vanda said next.

  Derek tapped the earpiece again. “Hey, you copy?”

  Only a faint buzz replied.

  He sighed and turned to his bots. “Sunny, Shade. I know you’re smart and eager to help, but this is a few leagues above your pay grade. I’ll handle the repairs.” He jerked a thumb toward the tunnel entrance. “Go keep an eye on Erasmus. Don’t want him pissing off our host.”

  Sunny beeped sharply and zipped off toward the exit of the bunker-like chamber. Shade followed at a slower, lazier pace.

  Derek leaned over the circuitry. “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got…”

  The panel revealed a familiar layout, the same kind he’d seen in other Wardilai installations. Circular energy topologies: a central core processor surrounded by secondary processors, memory buffers, and control nodes radiating outward. Information flowed through a rigid hierarchy. Every module needed the right voltage balance; even a tiny fluctuation could throw the whole system off.

  He never fully understood the science behind those processors, but he’d revived a few dead boards before just by rebalancing the energy flow between nodes.

  First step: restore insulation on the power conduits. Wardilai circuits were practically indestructible, but maybe one of the ducts had developed a micro-leak.

  He grabbed a can of Quantum Dielectric Spray and misted it along the main conduits.

  Ideally, he’d shut the whole thing down first. Too bad there wasn’t a master switch, and even if there was, no telling what killing the power might trigger.

  No choice but to work live.

  The spray condensed and cured into a thin sealing film. The light pattern on the board shifted slightly. Some outer sectors glowed brighter. Maybe just his imagination… but he’d take progress where he could get it.

  He needed to know if that small adjustment had already triggered anything outside. “Hey, Erasmus!” he called.

  After a few seconds came the hurried, uneven footsteps of the archivist. His flushed face appeared at the tunnel’s edge. “Yes?”

  “Tell me if you notice anything happening.”

  Erasmus blinked. “Meaning what?”

  “Well, I don’t know. Any change at all. I’ve got no clue what this circuit does, but our tall friend out there seems to think it’s important, so something should happen if I fix it.”

  Erasmus vanished from view for several seconds. Then the sound of hurried footsteps returned, louder this time. His face was even redder when he leaned back in. “Uh… something did happen.”

  Derek frowned. “Yeah? What?”

  “The metal golem said someone’s coming and ran off. Right after that, many of the metal spheres—the ones that aren’t part of the Guardian’s body—started glowing red.”

  Derek scratched his beard. Who the hell could’ve entered? Probably one of Uriela’s lackeys. But that wasn’t what worried him most. “Red lights, huh?” He had no idea what that meant, but red was rarely good news when it came to tech—Wardilai or human.

  He exhaled through his nose. No point in worrying Erasmus more than he already was. “Yeah. I’m sure that’s totally fine.”

  The scholar nodded and vanished from view again. A few seconds later, his voice came back as a sharp, panicked shout. “Derek?”

  “Yeah?” Derek called back.

  “The red spheres just detached from the wall and… they’re coming toward us!”

  The familiar metallic clatter of plasma cannons deploying filled the chamber.

  HUD markers flickered to life in Derek’s augmented display. Sunny and Shade, each tagged with green health bars and ammo counters.

  “Hey! What’s going on?” he barked, a cold weight settling in his gut.

  The screech of metal tore through the air, followed by Erasmus’s panicked cry.

  And then, the plasma cannons opened fire.