“Nothing strengthens authority so much as silence.”

- Leonardo da Vinci

(Tino Maldavi POV)

I was called back to the Elven capital after the incident our unit reported. And as I expected, it was given full attention by my superiors. An unknown new clockwork, this far in enemy territory raises some serious questions. There is also the huge mana wave that was felt, and that still remains unexplained.

Right now I am standing in the halls of the royal palace in Delsienweer, our capital. I thought reporting what we encountered would be the end of my duties in this matter but apparently the Empress herself has called for me. The nervousness that flows in me is only equaled by the honor I am feeling by being called upon by our most loved and benevolent ruler.

The forest is vast and I am from one of "The Edge" villages. My deployments have always kept me on the borders, far from the capital. I was astonished by the architecture I witnessed on my way to the palace. The wooden city is far up in some of the tallest trees I have ever seen. The wood, bent to the will of elven mages, gives birth to a spectacular display of arches and suspended bridges, linking the huge hallowed and living trunks of the trees housing the city.

And when I thought I had seen it all, I was brought to the palace. Inside the Mother Tree. The city behind me could have very well been a dirty slum compared to it. The blinding white bark formed walls of pristine beauty, arching and growing in a pattern resembling a living fortress, curved by the immense flow of magic that helped create it. It was said that the God of the Elvens Himself planted the seed that gave birth to it.

"The Empress is ready to see you now."

A female servant takes me out of my daydreaming. I quickly rise up from the bench I was told to sit in to follow her along the tall hallways, widely lit by the glass-covered openings in the tree.

Finally I am brought in front of the Throne room. Two fully armed guard nod at me, granting me passage. The huge double door opens in front of me seamlessly, not even making a sound. Inside I can see a long green carpet, contrasting on the white polished wooden floor. It leads to a huge circular staircase. At its top is the white throne itself, small in size, almost modest by its simplicity. But what steals my sight is the empress herself. Clad in a simple green robe, her beauty and ageless figure gazes at me, undisturbed, with her 2 deep hazel eyes. They contrast a lot with her pale skin and black hair. I have the feeling she is looking into my very soul with her gaze.

I quickly recompose myself and approach, only to kneel a few meters away from the stairs to give my greetings.

"As requested, Tino Maldavi, lieutenant of the Edge scouting corps, Second battalion, is presenting himself in front of the Empress. May the stars guide and protect her."

A few moments pass in silence until a small but powerful voice can be heard.

"Rise, lieutenant."

I quickly get up and stand straight.

"I was told of a great disturbance that happened less than a week ago. I was also told you were present. Is that correct?"

The voice is sweet, cold and authoritative at the same time. Her eyes are digging through me.

"Yes your Majesty. This one was there. We were on a border patrol when it happened. A great fireball came down from the sky and crashed with the sound of thunder. A huge mana wave was felt and we were sent to investigate the matter more closely. That is when we encountered "it"."

She raises her hand and makes a small gesture. I move my sight away from her to the rest of the room. I was too focused to look around when I entered, but a lot of the nobility is here. Hell, almost all of them are present. They are watching from each side of the room near the tall and sinuous wooden colonnades that hold the ceiling. I can see two mages bring forth a pedestal with an orb on it.

"Please show us."

They set the device in front of me. One of the mages whispers to me.

"Please put your hand on the orb and try to recall the moment as best as possible."

I put my hand as instructed and concentrate. Both mage start murmuring an unrecognizable chant.

Suddenly an image appears in the air above the orb. The silence is heavy. Everybody is focused on the display of light and sound that show my memories of the encounter. Murmurs can be heard when "it" appears. Surprise can be seen on some faces, concern on others. The Empress herself stays impassible, focused on the magical exhibit.

The light that was dimmed returns slowly to the room when the magic ends. The previous murmurs have become full-blown conversations. The two mages have beads of sweat all over their faces. That spell must have taken a lot out of them. Still, they muster the energy to bow to the Empress before taking back the device with them and disappearing into the crowd.

"Silence."

A single word closes all the mouths. The Empress sweeps the room with her gaze. Everybody is waiting on her next few words.

"It would seem the Clockworks have a new Champion. But more than that, that Champion has been summoned. The mana wave felt was the summoning ceremony performed by their God."

Gasps can be heard in the audience. The Clockworks' God had always chosen champions among his own people. The fact that he changed his ways for the first time in centuries is worrisome. The end of his last champion at the hands of the humans was particularly brutal. Maybe that was the reason? The gaze of the Empress sets itself back on me.

"Lieutenant Maldavi. I heard a lot of good things from your superiors about you."

I bow my head.

"I do not believe myself to be worthy of such praises your Majesty."

She continues undisturbed.

"Do not belittle yourself. I have a mission for you. From what we could all see, this champion is not hostile towards elves. It had the strength and agility necessary to fight your party but instead choose safety over a battle. We must establish contact with it. Your task will be to track it, and extend to it an invitation on behalf of the Elven Royalty."

I am stunned by the sheer magnitude of the mission given to me. Before I can say anything one of the nobles approach the throne to protest. He looks like a military officer.

"Your majesty! If I may! We have a lot more competent soldiers in our army. Please allow me to provide you with more suitable men for this task. I can have a team ready in less than a day with the best at our disposal."

We can all feel the temperature of the room drop when the Empress turns her head in his direction. The swiveling of her neck is slow and deliberate, akin to a predator setting its eyes on a prey.

"May I remind you, General, of the tension between Human and Elven forces at the moment? The Forest being cut down, in clear violation of the Accords of Old, is creating enough conflict as it is. An intrusion by a small elite force in Human territory is last thing we need. Besides, on top of being one of the people having made initial contact with the clockwork, Lieutenant Maldavi also has extensive experience thanks to his years of services on the Edge. Moreover, he is not someone with a profile high enough to arouse suspicion if he were to travel alone through human lands. That makes him an ideal choice. The matter is NOT open to discussion."

The last sentence was spoken with the coldest tone I have ever heard. The face of the General has lost all color. He makes a quick bow before returning among the other nobles without a sound. Something tells me there were other reasons for this outburst from the Empress, but I am not interested in finding out. I value my career, and my life, too much for that.

I decide to break the uncomfortable atmosphere by kneeling.

"It would be my greatest honor to be able to serve The Empress directly in this endeavor. I will do everything in my power to return with the Clockwork Champion in front of you, your Majesty."

"I know you will lieutenant. This matter is of utmost importance. Since traveling back by normal means would take too much time you will be teleported by our mages near the spot of your encounter. You are to present yourself tomorrow at the earliest hour, fully prepared for you departure. May the stars guide and protect you."

I rise from the ground and do a last bow before exiting the throne room. I still have trouble coming to terms with what happened. But it speaks of troubled times, and of that, I am sure.

(XSS-MK1 POV)

It takes only a moment before the information about what had happened reaches their brain.

The closest all rush me.

The first two to come close brandish their weapons trying to cut me down with an overhang slash on one side and a low one on the other. Commendable teamwork. But not enough.

I grab both blades, stopping them dead in their tracks. It shreds my gloves revealing the cold back metal but I have other priorities at the moment. They are trying to pry their weapons from my grip. I suddenly let go, destabilizing them. In the brief window of time I move closer to the one on the right and punch his chest, hand stretched out in a palm. Bones breaking can be heard and his chest caves in before his entire body is launched into the air, only to fall back a few meters away, never to rise up again. In a fluid motion I spin and bring back my left leg in the position to unleash a powerful axe-kick on the head of the other. The helmet bends under my heel, crushing the inside with a distinctive squishy sound. Blood, shattered skull and brain matter can be seen trying to escape the now smaller head piece.

I register the death of the two enemies and put myself in a standard martial art battle stance, standing immobile, waiting for the others. I am analyzing everything around me: their weapons, their movements, their comportments, and any indicators of attack.

The shocking display has stopped them a few meters of me.

The heat generated by my brain now working at full capacity, along with my muscles fibers all being made at the ready, is exhausted by the different ports on my body. It is starting to burn holes through the clothes I am wearing. They catch fire. I stay immobile, waiting for an opening to present itself. I can see faces of astonishment, as well as fear all around me. Figures.

All my clothes are burning now, giving the impression that I am a living torch.

And then I finish my calculations.

Everything is accounted for.

Every possibility.

Every option.

Every movement.

Just like a giant chess game, all outcomes have been predicted to the best of my ability.

I step forward, shedding the smoldering ashes of what remains of my garments. It brings me in range of the one in front of me. He hastily tries to back off but it is too late. My arm reaches out, and in a piercing motion, my hand goes through his armor and into his chest. His heart is crushed. My plates are splashed with blood when I take my hand out of the opening I just created. The one on my left tries to stab me with a worn-out spear. I sidestep his attack, and take the weapon from him in a fluid motion. I break his windpipe with the butt-end on his side. I then help the spear resume its original motion, making it continue into one his friends on the right. I let go of the weapon once it is lodged deep inside the body's entrails. I quickly turn around to face the one behind me and deflect his vertical sword swing by hitting the side of the blade with my knuckles. A chopping movement from my left hand breaks his neck.

Soon enough they are replaced by more of their comrades. My dance of death begins.

Everywhere I go bodies fall. Nothing escapes me. Nothings harm me. I am covered in blood. It accentuates the already present red lines running across my body. The fresh crimson liquid shines with an otherworldly aura on my cold black and sleek metallic exterior. My silver hair gets tainted red.

I see the terror on the faces of the ones I slay. I am relentless. Unmovable. Unstoppable. Each movement is calculated and executed to bring the maximum damage possible with the minimal amount of motion. Soon enough they starts fleeing in the direction they originally came from. I am left alone, only surrounded by mangled bodies. The soil is muddy now, damp with the blood of the fallen. The leader is still here with a few of his lieutenants. They have taken hostages among the people lined up of before.

It was a predicted outcome. With 23% chance of happening.

I start to slowly walk in their direction. My silver gaze is fixated on the leader. He is shaking in his tribal armor.

"St-st-stop right here! We'll kill them if you come closer!"

Unlike the adventurers of before, I have no morals qualms about the death of few humans. I have already identified the reasons the hired guards gave up so easily during the initial attack. During my massacre I saw a young woman and a child running to the captured prisoners and free them. But not before hugging one of them with an unmistakable look of love in their eyes. The adventurers in turn didn't move, not to attract attention, and put as much of the passengers behind them.

I change my voice back to its original, and unnatural, metallic tone.

"Go on. Kill them."

The others lieutenants leave the hostages behind and start running for the hills. A wise move.

"Come back here! Cowards!"

He turns back to face me. He understands. He will probably die here. Nothing can spare him. He is alone.

I am only a few meters from him. I can see the signs of stress on his face.

In a last ditch attempt, he throws the last remaining hostage at me and swings his weapon, planning to cut us both. I catch the young man thrown at me with one arm and stop the blade with the other. The blade rebounds on my plates. It didn't even chip them. I use that time to put the terrified person on the side. When I bring back my attention to the criminal he is running too.

I don't think so.

I jump with all my strength toward him. The ground cracks and imprints of my feet are left where I was. Before he knows it, I land in front of him. He doesn't have the time to realize what is going on. I knock him out with a well-placed temple hit. I grab one his legs by the ankle and starts dragging him back to the convoy.

Everyone is looking at me.

I don't really care. I drop the unconscious man in front of the adventurers.

"For you."

The caravan master looks at me with a fearful expression. His eyes are shifting back and forth between me and the man at his feet. From up close he looks bit old. He has short and gray hair, fashioned in a military cut. His angular face is covered with a short well-kept beard that circles a straight jaw. It is remarkably free of scars.

I leave him and move toward the back of the first carriage, where the water barrels are. I need to clean myself before the blood starts to dry too much. I have some pretty much everywhere. The most annoying are the exhaust ports. The heat has flash-dried the blood that fell in them. I take a bucket and fill it. I start the long and gruesome task.

I don't need to turn my head to hear everyone getting back up and taking back their weapons. They start moving the corpses away from the road and burning them.

The civilian survivors are in shock. Some of them are still standing at their original position where they were ordered to line up. A quick glance confirms it. A good part of them are looking toward me. Various feelings cover their faces. Most of them are of fear. A few of them gratitude, even respect. Same goes for the adventurers. But I can see some hate in some too. Interesting.

I am almost done cleaning every nook and cranny of my body.

It shouldn't be long now. I start counting in my head.

5. 4. 3. 2. 1.

"Emkaöuane?"

Right on cue.

The caravan master is at my side, along with two of the adventurers.

I keep my attention on the last spot of blood. While scrubbing the small resisting biological matter between two of my fingers I give him an answer.

"Yes. And you are?"

One of the adventurers takes a breath to say something but is stopped by one hand movement. I finally remove the last witness of the battle from my exterior shell. I turn to face him.

"After all, it is polite to introduce yourself when striking up conversation with a stranger. Even more when said stranger just saved your life. Is it not?"

He grits his teeth before answering me.

"My name is Thoan Menchet. May I ask where your master is? So that we could thank him for this assistance."

I don't react immediately, thinking about all the outcomes this conversation could take. The results do not bode well.

"My master values his discretion Mister Menchet. I would suggest you respect it."

The false veiled threat makes some effect, with the three persons in front of me taking a step back. But then, one of the two adventurers leans in and whispers something in the ear of the caravan master. It does not escape my ears.

"Sir, it has no mark. Are you sure it even has a master?"

The eyes of the caravan widen and I can see beads of sweat starting to form on his forehead while he takes an affable expression and tries to deceive me.

"Of course, we would not want to intrude on the privacy of such an esteemed person, possessing such a combat clockwork at his side. You can inform him that we will resume travel shortly."

I spot from the corner of my eyes one of the adventurers doing a badly hidden hand signal. I also hear a bowstring being stretched. As soon as I hear it being released I turn and identify the sharpened projectile flying towards my face. I push my body into combat mode again, gaining the necessary power to move my hand and catch the arrow in flight.

I drop it as soon as I have confirmed its successful stop and spin around to catch the blade of the second adventurer that was in front of me.

In a short burst of power, I yank it from his hand and crush it in my palm. I put myself in a defensive position as I hear the shouts around me.

"Step back! It's a Stray! Step back!"

The adventurers quickly form a semi-circle in front of me, weapons at the ready. But I can see it on their faces: the hesitation, the fear, the quick glances to the pile of bandit bodies now burning a few meters away.

I do not understand.

I saved them.

All of them.

I even revealed myself in order to do so.

Is that how much value the clockworks have in their eyes?

I was programmed to feel emotions. I don't take notice of them often, but right now the only thing I feel is intense anger. The cause of my first death was understandable, even justified, but this?

"Is this how you repay your savior? Is this how you display gratitude?"

I stare at each of them, noticing that none of them dare look me in the eyes.

"I could murder each and every one of you right now! There would be nothing you could do to stop me! And still I took your defense! You didn't even deign to face me when you attacked me! The bandits displayed more courage than you!"

"You. Ungrateful. Spineless. Cowards."

I try very hard to contain myself before going on a second murder spree as I spit the last words. This would not serve my cause. This would only aggravate the problem further. Yet, I feel so "tempted" right now…

I look at the adventurers around me, still displaying signs of hostility.

So be it.

I step away from the corpses. And I move towards the end of the first carriage. Where I left the water bucket.

The civilian survivors are huddled not far from here. Those that stayed anyway. Most ran. Them, I will spare. Just as the attack on myself was not justified in any way, attacking them won't be either. They did nothing. They were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. And I cannot make them endorse the responsibility of their kin's stupidity. Even if they will probably talk about what they witnessed today. Besides, killing those that stayed will not prevent those that already ran away from talking.

I finish cleaning myself, again, and move toward the unconscious and bound body of the bandit I caught earlier. I need information.

I charge the graphene network under my skin with electricity. It may be here to evacuate any overloads but nothings prevents me to use it for other means. Time to experiment. I touch his chest with one of my fingers, letting out a spark in the unconscious man.

The pain jolts him up immediately. He looks confused, dazed and wondering where he is. But then he remembers. I can see horror deform his face when his eyes set themselves on me.

"Welcome back. Now here is how it is going to go. I am going to ask some questions. You will answer them THRUTHFULLY. You will do so in a short and clear manner. You will stay silent otherwise. I have means at my disposal to know if you are lying. And if you do, or refuse to answer..."

I stop talking and bring my hands close to one another, making electric arks jump between the two. He starts nodding slowly. I remove the cloth gag.

What ensues is a lot of screaming, weeping and pain, with the occasional vomiting. He resisted the first two questions, which were his name and the number of bandits in their band. After the first cardiac arrest, and resuscitation, he became a lot more cooperative. But not enough for him to escape a few long discharges, causing his skin to incinerate and the stench of burning flesh to fill the air. And a second cardiac arrest. This one, fatal.

Mister Rid Brasric here is apparently part of a small band of a hundred plus bandits that roam the area, attacking nearby caravans, and merchants who ferry their goods to the border. A lucrative business if what he told me is to be believed. But the most important part of what he revealed was the location of their base, less than two days on horseback from here. It is in a small wood like the ones that often dot the unending tall grass and bushes of this green sea.

I am going to need supplies and staying here to loot the bodies would ask for too much time. I should keep moving, and as fast and frequently as possible. Especially now, with what happened. I have a suspicious feeling that I just kicked the proverbial wasp nest.

As I am mulling over my possible courses of actions, I feel a tap on my back.

I turn around to see the child I saw earlier, eyes full of tears, anger and hate, trying to bash me with his fists. His mother immediately runs to him, and takes him into her arms, in a protective posture.

I can tell she is scared, and emotionally distraught. But she stares right into my eyes, lips trembling, body shaking.

"You. Monster."

"No." I say, "You could have accepted my excuse, looked the other way, in a bout of gratitude, or even just pretended you saw nothing. But do you know what you people did? You attacked me. After I saved your lives. From either death, slavery, or worse. This is the difference between you and me: I only retaliate when I have a good reason to. I look at the situation pragmatically. I don't hold petty grudges if my logic tells me otherwise. Which is why you are alive right now and not on the ground, your neck crushed."

"No, I'm not a monster. You people made me a monster. One in your own image. And you will live with it for the rest of your lives. Enjoy."

I don't wait for an answer and start walking away.

I have bandits to kill, and supplies to acquire.