Andros drew his swords as he studied the half-dozen invaders before him. They were spindly, humanoid creatures. They had two arms and two legs in a normal fashion, but they were so thin that they looked frail and easily breakable. Their heads, such as they were, appeared as thin cylindrical structures jutting from their torsos. Small spheres of red glass were embedded into the heads and they rotated around the cylinder independent of each other. Their entire bodies had the blue-metallic luster of star metal. The warrior quickly surmised that they were either very skinny humanoids with armor encasing their entire form, or they were made from the metal and operated similarly to golems he had heard about in legends.

They each carried a foreign black weapon that was held in both hands. It was just as angular as the rest of their bodies with a short hollow cylinder that jutted from the front of it. Andros wasn’t sure what the weapons did or how they were operated, but he recognized a threat when he saw one. He heard the grinding of metal against itself as the invaders turned.

As one, shards of crimson light burst from the tips of their weapons and darted toward Andros. Time seemed to slow down as the projectiles flew toward him. The slowing effect allowed Andros to leap to the side as the beams of light flitted through his previous position. Recognizing the light and the creatures of themselves as threats, Andros attacked.

He shortened the distance between him and the nearest enemy before it could fire another light arrow. He swung his blades at the creature’s head and it impacted with a dull clang. Andros felt the vibration reverberate painfully in his arms, but he has seen no direct damage to his target. The sheer force behind his strike caused the ungainly humanoid to topple over and crash to the ground.

When the first enemy fell, the others began firing their light arrows at Andros. One hit him in the shoulder and a deadening sensation spread from the impact. The attack saved him because it caused him to stumble to the side while his numbed fingers dropped one of his swords. As a result, several other light arrows missed him completely.

After just a few seconds, feeling returned to his arms and he relaunched his attack on the enemies. He swept through the golems like wind through stalks of wheat. When he was among them, everything became a frenetic blur of light and sounds. Two fell as he was able to apply enough force with his sword to dent their heads. On the second enemy, his sword shattered and he had to switch to his fists.

The enemies didn’t stand still while he fought among them. He got pelted by more of the light arrows, but after the first one, they hardly affected him. A light tingling sensation would appear at the point of impact, but other than that, he was unaffected. After he was hit three consecutive times without any ill effects, he gave up all pretense of being careful.

He punched one of the golems in the chest, and his prodigious strength allowed him to pierce through its metal shell. Sparking energy and the thrashing of its sensitive metallic organs, caused the crimson light in its eyes to grow dim and for it to slump to the ground. After the first one, Andros repeated the kind of attack on the remaining three enemies. Soon, they were scrap metal on the ground and he was breathing heavily at the exertion.

He looked down at his fists and noticed that they were broken bloody messes. He hadn’t noticed the pain while he was fighting, but now that it was over, he felt the pain radiating from his knock. As he stared at them, he saw the bleeding begin to slow and his flesh start to knit together. After a few minutes, the only sign that he had hurt them was the dried blood that painted their surface.

He looked up as more and more of the objects hurtled to the ground. The warrior knew that he had been able to defeat the golems, but that the others in the kingdom wouldn’t be nearly as lucky. Few could summon the strength that he could and none could heal as he did. If each of the objects contained the same numbers of golems that his own held, then there were already hundreds of the creatures on the island.

That was a problem because Aetolos didn’t have many warriors to begin with. There were maybe two hundred trained warriors on the island at one time while the rest were out raiding for materials. A quick check of his memory told him that already twice that number would be on the ground with more breaking through the sky every minute. He knew that he would need to be in the fight if his people had any chance of overcoming the invaders.

He frowned as he studied his fallen enemies before picking up one of their weapons. It was small in his hands, having been designed for the diminutive digits of the golems, but he held it easily enough. He placed a finger on the small lever in the bottom of the weapon and pressed it. A light-arrow shot from the tip and Andros felt no kick from the weapon like he had expected.

He wasn’t sure how effective the weapon would be against its owners. He had seen the metal humanoids hit each other with their own light-arrows and it had done nothing but splash against their metal carapace. He turned the weapon side to side in an effort to find some kind of indication that the power could be increased. Discovering nothing useful, he discarded the weapon. He would just have to settle for his fists.

Still, the enemies weren’t completely useless. He started prying metal plates from their bodies and began securing them to his armor with leather thongs. They weren’t as large as himself, so he had to strip multiple bodies before he had created an approximation of their armor for himself. Instead of single plates, he overlapped them until they created a form of clattering, layered armor. He only had enough material to protect his chest and forearms, but he decided it would have to be enough.

Newly equipped, he set off at a fast jog for the palace. During his fight with the invaders, he had seen multiple sky transports fall in that direction. He would have to defeat whatever foes gathered there and then try to organize some sort of defense. Mission in mind, he pumped his legs faster to eat up the distance between his farmstead and the palace.

In half an hour, he reached the outskirts of the palace grounds and he slid to a stop. As he expected, more than three dozen of the golems had gathered outside of the palace’s outer wall. They were firing their light arrows, but they impacted harmlessly off of the stone fortifications. Meanwhile, Andros witnessed dozens of armors fly from the defenders and plink just as harmlessly off of the invaders. There were at something of a standstill, but Andros knew it wouldn’t last. At any point in time, the invaders would just charge the keep and then the defenders wouldn’t be able to stop them. If Andros wanted to organize a defense, he would have to start with the king.

Without regard for his own safety, Andros ran down the small rise that descended toward the enemy formation. He tucked his head and kept moving as he piled into the group of metal golems. He plowed into their ordered lines of battle and threw many of them to the ground. They weren’t defeated, but Andros had noticed that they lacked the coordination to get up quickly. Their joints only moved in one direction so falling presented a significant difficulty for them.

When he created enough confusion that the invaders were firing into each other instead of at the palace keep, Andros began his attack in earnest. He became a blur of violence as he dodged and struck anything with his reach. He created cratering holes in their chests and struck their heads so hard that their glass eyes popped. Some could be taken down with a careful kick to a knee joint or by picking them up and bodily throwing them into another one of their number. He judged the tactic as an effective way of disabling his enemies, so he proceeded to rip their limbs from their bodies and then use them to beat other golems. When he did this, he discovered that the vibrations from his invader-fashioned clubs weren’t nearly as severe.

It was only a matter of time before he could secure victory. In addition to his savage offense, his purloined armor provided a strong defense. Light-arrows splashed off his chest and forearms as he wrecked their numbers. The few that managed to hit him in the legs only caused a slight shuddering in his muscles. The effect wasn’t noticeable within the haze of battle rage that consumed him.

By the time he was done, three dozen of the golems lay shattered and broken upon the field. Arcs of energy spread across the grinding pieces of metal that counted for their organs and not a single golem looked to be in one piece.

As he breathed heavily and surveyed the carnage, he heard a cheer break out from the defenders.

“Andros! Andros! Andros!” They chanted his name.

Andros picked up a discard limb and held it in the air. He roared his defiance of the invaders and the defenders roared back.

The iron-studded gate of the keep opened on oiled hinges and Andros saw the King rushing toward him with a party of warriors. He walked so that he could meet them halfway. When Anaximenes got close, he crushed the warrior in a hug.

“Andros!” He cheered. “That was a fine show, my friend! I’m sorry we couldn’t be of more help. We were stuck behind our walls and our blades and arrows did not affect their armor.”

“Aye, my King. Their shells seem to be crafted from star metal. I broke a sword in my first run-in with the invaders.”

Anaximenes' face grew serious. “How did you resist falling to their weapons?” He asked. “One of my men got hit by their weapons and he’s still unconscious.”

Andros shrugged. “The first few shots hurt, and they were able to disable parts of my body in the beginning. Now they barely tingle.”

The warrior gestured to his haphazard armor. “I realized that their weapons were harmless against their shells, so I took some for myself and made this armor.”

The King nodded and then gestured for his advisor to come forward. “Nestor, get together a group of warriors and strip these bodies. I want similar armor for as many men as possible.”

The King looked back at Andros. “Best way to defeat them?”

The warrior picked up his club and swung it experimentally. “Blunt force seems to be the best way. Try using their upper arms as weapons. They aren’t heavy and they make adequate weapons if you have people strong enough to do damage.”

Anaximenes looked at Nestor and the elderly man nodded, “We’ll do it that way, my King.”

“What are we going to do next?” Andros asked the King.

“Now that we’re clear here, we probably need to cleanse the port and the towns there. We’ll have the commoners fall back to the palace keep,” Anaximenes answered.

“Okay,” Andros agreed. “I need to run back to my home and grab my family.”

He turned to leave, but the King stopped him. “I need you here Andros, there isn’t a man on this island who can kill them the way that you have. If you leave now, all our hard work could be for naught.”

The warrior felt conflicted. He knew that the King was right, but he couldn’t help but worry for Lydia and the kids.

“Don’t worry,” the King assured him. “Most of the objects fell toward the palace and the town below. I haven’t seen any drop toward your farmstead.”

Andros gave a calculated look at the sky and realized that the king was right.

“Okay,” the warrior decided. “How long do you think it’ll take for your men to be ready?”

The King made a quick appraisal of the situation. “About an hour,” he hedged.

Andros grinned. “Let’s see if we can cut that in half.”

The warrior reached down and slung a golem over each shoulder. Once they were situated, he began jogging with his burden toward the keep. When he arrived, he set them in a pile before returning for the next set. His enthusiasm infected the rest of the warriors and soon they were all competing with each other to get the most bodies back to the keep.

While the warriors were transporting their goods back and forth, the royal armorers and weaponsmiths worked overtime to separate these panels from the destroyed enemies, and craft them into rough protection for the king’s men.

True to Andros’ word, a force of two dozen soldiers were outfitted with clubs and patchwork metal armor in just under half an hour. When they were ready, the King gathered them together and they set off for the port town.

He didn’t give any glorious speeches or rabble-rousing cheers. It wasn’t necessary. The warriors of Aetolos knew that they were fighting a foreign invader for their very lives. A grim determination settled over the party as they lightly jogged toward the port town and the denizens within. They could already hear the shrieking fire of enemy weapons and they hardened their hearts against the battle to come.

Andros jogged at the front of the group as was his want, while the King returned with Nestor to the keep. He had offered to fight with his warriors, but Andros declined the gesture. He knew it was important that the kingdom survived and he wanted to make sure that when people fled to the keep, their leader would be there to greet them. It was Andros’ duty to bring pain to the King’s enemies and that was why he needed to be in the thick of it.

His group slowed to a brisk walk when they neared the outskirts of the port town. Andros could smell the sweat on his men and heard their labored breathing. He had driven them at a punishing pace, but it was for a reason. He couldn’t allow the invaders to fortify themselves inside of the town. It had been hard enough for him to defeat them on an open plain, and they would be facing at least twice those numbers inside of the town.

When they passed the invisible threshold between the farmlands and the town, he was pleased to note that his warriors were mostly recovered. It wasn’t a moment too soon because six of the golems were marching down the central boulevard in their direction.

Andros hung back and didn’t attack himself. He needed to understand how his force compared to theirs. He knew there wasn’t danger of his people dying. In the time they had been preparing, the warrior that had been shot by the invaders that morning had been recovered. Andros estimated that their stunning arrows would knock a normal man unconscious for about six hours. With all of that in mind, he made a hand signal, and his warriors rushed forward.

The golems got off two lucky shots on his men, but the rest of their fire was redirected by the ramshackle armor. His men crashed into the enemy and started swinging their clubs with their entire bodies behind them. Andros watched as the enemy was systematically torn apart. He couldn’t help the evil grin that bisected his face.

When the warriors were done, they gathered up their fallen and stashed them inside a nearby home. When they returned, Andros addressed them.

“Were there any people inside the house?”

“No, lokha,” one of the men responded.

“That’s strange,” the leader commented. “I thought we would’ve heard the commoners screaming or catch them hiding from the invaders.”

The rest of the warriors seemed to come to realize just after he did. If their weapons didn’t kill and merely stunned their victims, the only reason the invaders would be on Aetolos would be to capture them. Andros decided to snap them out of their dark thoughts.

“Alright, break up into groups of four. My group will only have three. I want you to be careful. Still to alleyways and hiding places. Ambush the golems when you’re sure that you can get the first hit without being struck yourself. We want to clear the town as efficiently as possible. We’ll meet at the docks.”

Andros received a chorus of confirmations and then they were shuffling into groups and ghosting into the town. There was a bit of fighting between the men about who would have the honor of accompanying the god-touched warrior, but he quickly broke it up and selected two men at random. When everything was progressing the way he wanted, Andros entered the town proper by way of the central road.

He ordered his companions to fall back and cover him while he boldly walked down the center of town. He didn’t miss the irony that just the previous day he was walking in the opposite direction and riding the high of a well-executed raid. Now he was descending into the belly of the beast and he couldn’t predict what would be waiting for him there.

As they traveled, they ran into small groups of golems and Andros dispatched them easily. They made good progress and his sensitive ears picked up the sounds of similar ambushes taking place across the alleyways and corridors that threaded through the small town.

When they neared the docks, Andros detected the telltale sound of clanking metal that heralded the arrival of more invaders. He ducked into an alleyway on the side, and he saw his companions likewise disappear. Normally, he would’ve pushed on, but the clanking was many times magnified from the typical din caused by just a few golems.

As he strained his eyes, he spotted a formation of invaders that looked to be a hundred strong. Andros had to do a quick headcount to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him. It was made easier by the perfect rows of marching golems. They were coming from the docks and heading in his direction. He knew that even with his abilities, enough of them firing their weapons would be able to take him out. If that happened, their budding resistance would collapse.

As the formation marched closer, Andros spotted a new enemy following the rest. The sight of the newcomer made his mouth drop in awe.

It looked like a man, but if so, the man had to be half a head taller than Andros. Because Andros had been taller than everyone he had ever met, this man was a giant indeed. He didn’t have the same spindly body as the golems, instead, his bulk was proportionate.

He wore thick metal armor that covered him from head to toe. The plates looked far thicker than the thin pieces that encased each golem. It wasn’t a continuous piece, either. The larger pieces covered the warrior’s chest, shoulders, arms, and thighs. Thick armored gloves protected the fingers up to his elbow while similarly sized boots encased his feet up to his kneecaps. Everything between the plates consisted of a black textured material that looked like muscles as thick as rope.

Crowning the man was a featureless round helmet. There was no opening for the eyes or mouth that Andros could discern. It didn’t even possess the red glass spheres that the god-touched warrior had come to think of as eyes. For all Andros could tell, there was no way the giant could see where it was going or what it was doing.

Finally, he held a large weapon similar in appearance to the ones that the golems carried. However, his was close to twice the size of the golem’s. Andros saw at least two of the cylindrical barrels at the end instead of one and he assumed that it had more functionality than its brothers. Just as Andros was thinking about how much he did not want to get shot by a light-arrow from that weapon, the featureless helmet turned and fastened on Andros’ position.

The warrior felt his heart drop to his stomach as the enemy gestured in his hidden position and then the entire host of golems turned toward him. Some might have thought that Andros would bravely attack the entire group of golems, but those people would be wrong. Andros was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. He ran.

Buildings whipped by Andros as he sprinted parallel to the docks. He wasn’t sure what he had seen, but he wasn’t willing to find out. Every sense in his body screamed that he was in danger. He took a right turn and then he was running toward the edge of down. He heard fights breaking out in various places around him, but he didn’t let it deter him. He had no way of signally a retreat or ordering his men to fall back to the keep.

As he was reaching the end of town, he heard a sound not dissimilar to the way a fire-arrow sounded as it crackled through the air. He looked up and skidded to a stop. Right above him, the armored enemy that had spotted him was floating in the air with two tongues of white fire extending from his shoulder blades. Andros noted that it came from two metal protrusions that looked like the pinions of a batwing.

The man was tracking Andros with his rifle, but he had yet to fire. The god-touched warrior leaned back and crouched with his knees. He held one hand to the side, with his club held in his palm. In a smooth movement, he drove his feet down and swung his arm forward. He launched the club from his hand like a cannonball from the barrel. His projectile sped toward the floating enemy, but the man didn’t even adjust his position.

The club hit the man with a cracking sound that thundered across the town. Andros expected that the blow would’ve at least stunned the enemy and hopefully knocked him out of the sky. However, he soon realized that neither thing had happened. A sparking layer of blue light protected the armored giant and Andros realized that he was completely outclassed by this new foe.

The fire behind the giant abruptly cut off and he dropped to the ground. When he landed, the ground shuddered and cracks split the cobblestone path in all directions. The enemy raised his weapon and pointed it in Andros’ direction. The warrior felt like he was a deer in the crosshairs of a skilled hunter. Options rapidly cycled through his mind and he decided that he needed more information.

With a yell, he sprinted toward the giant and put all of his strength behind a single punch. When his fist impacted against the enemy, he felt it slide off of the slippery cerulean barrier. It sparked against his strike, and he felt a slight tingling in his fists, but both men were completely unharmed.

Before Andros could strike again, the invader used the end of his weapon to crack Andros in the chest. The force was beyond anything Andros imagined. He was lifted off of his feet and sailed a few paces before crashing into the unrelenting ground. Andros choked as he felt like his chest had been caved in. When he looked down, he saw that his cobbled-together armor had been bent in half. Blood was pooling through his tunic where the sharp edges of the metal had dug into his flesh. With a scream, he ripped the foreign metal from his body, and the blood poured freely through his tunic.

The warrior ripped off the armor and threw it aside. He had suffered more grievous wounds at the hands of the daima and he knew that it would heal in time. He just needed to create the space for him to heal and he couldn’t do that with the enemy upon him.

He twisted until he was crouched on his hands and feet and then scrabbled for purchase against the blood-slicked stone. When his feet caught, he rocketed away from the armored giant and took the nearest turn. He heard the invader running after him, but Andros knew the twisted paths of the port town far better than his pursuer. The sound of his pursuit started to fade as Andros gradually increased the distance between the two.

The god-touched warrior realized that he couldn’t get too far away from the invader. There was nothing to stop the man from launching into the sky and pursuing Andros from the air. While he was fleeing, he considered how he could defeat his enemy. There was only one weapon remaining in the Aetolosian arsenal. It was an ancient weapon that was set aside as a last resort.

He threaded his way through the streets until he arrived at a small, unassuming warehouse by the docks. He could still detect the armored giant pursuing behind him and the sound spurred Andros to greater haste. He used a fist to smash the iron lock across the door and then made his way inside.

Stacks of wooden crates were piled around the perimeter of the warehouse. Andros knew they contained bows, arrows, spears, swords, shields, and any number of weapons that were claimed while raiding.

Sitting in the center of the room was a single straw-stuffed crate and it was the purpose of Andros’ visit. He pried the top off of the box and then haphazardly threw it inside. Resting on a bed of straw, was a single metal cylinder the size of Andros’ forearm. It had a gray-blue metallic hue with a single ancient symbol etched on its surface. The warrior studied the triple helix on the surface of the cylinder with a measure of awe for what he was about to do.

He searched the other crates until he came across a sharp dagger. Once he retrieved the weapon, he returned to the star metal cylinder and picked it up as well. Holding the dagger toward his breast, he plunged it into the cylinder. It took a few tries to pierce the metal, but once he did, a clear liquid started spurting from the container.

Andros had witnessed the power of the god fire before. In his last raid, he had stumbled on an entire cache of the cylinders. He had been fighting an underground nest of daima and their battle had caused them to stumble into an ancient chamber. The room had been filled with paraphernalia all marked with the same triple helix symbol and a shaft had been carved in the rock above to provide the room with adequate light and air. In the ensuing combat, one of his raiders had accidentally damaged one of the cylinders and the clear liquid pooled inside of the room.

None of the warriors had stopped to consider the liquid. They were more focused on surviving the daima onslaught than they were in an ancient room with even older oddities. While they were fighting their way out of the tunnels, one of his men had been ambushed by a pair of daima. He had dropped his torch in the scuffle and the flame had fallen on a trail of the liquid.

No one could stop the trail of fire that led back to the chamber. When the fire reached the origin of the cylinders, the entire room exploded with enough force that most of the tunnels collapsed, killing men and daima alike. The pillar of flame that shot from the access shaft burned for three days and three nights before subsiding.

Andros couldn’t argue with the might of it and dubbed it god fire. He was able to retrieve a single unbroken cylinder and brought it back to Aetolos as a last resort. The kingdom had never needed to use it, so it sat in this dusty warehouse all but forgotten.

The god-touched warrior hoped to use it to similar effect against the invaders. As the liquid spilled from the hole he created, he rolled the cylinder on the ground until it came to a stop against the entrance. While the liquid pooled around the entrance, he found a piece of flint and sparked it against his dagger. When he was satisfied that he could predictably create a spark, he settled in to wait for the invader.

He didn’t have long to wait, instead of using the door like a normal person, the armored behemoth crashed through the front wall. Andros almost dropped the flint in surprise but retained his grip. As the invader raised his weapon toward the warrior, Andros smiled. He slid the flint along his dagger and a shower of sparks landed on the clear liquid trail. The god fire caught with a brilliant white flame and rushed toward the cylinder that was pooling liquid at the invader’s feet.

The resulting explosion was so powerful that a concussive wave hurled Andros through the rear wall of the warehouse and the invader was launched in the other direction. As Andros crashed to the ground he did a quick check of his body. His entire front felt cracked and burned. His skin was weeping pus and blood as his natural abilities tried to work overtime to repair the damage.

Although the pain was immense, Andros struggled to his feet and hobbled toward the burning remains of the warehouse. He noticed that the invader had already stood up and was striding toward Andros with purposeful steps. His weapon was nowhere to be found, and that suited Andros’ plan.

With a war cry, he broke into a run and launched himself at the invader with a flurry of pummeling strikes. The mystical barrier that had protected the giant had been dispensed, but the armor underneath looked unscathed. As Andros’ fists pounded against the armor, it didn’t even buckle. The warrior soon realized that whatever it was made of, it was many times stronger than the golem carapaces.

Andros kept pounding until the invader had decided he had enough. He caught Andros’ next punch in his palm and the warrior screamed as his fists were crushed under the undeniable strength of the invader. The giant tilted his grip and Andros was forced to his knees. Once there, the man kneed Andros in his face, and he felt his skull crack and his teeth shatter.

His thoughts turned surreal and slightly manic as he felt like he was drowning in his own blood. He hung limply, still secured by the invader’s fist. When the invader let him go, he slumped to the ground, barely conscious. He didn’t even feel the enemy’s hand as it clasped around his throat.

The invader lifted him from the ground by his throat and then launched him through the nearest building. Andros should’ve felt the pain of multiple broken bones and half of his body suffering extreme burns. However, his body had shut down to heal and all he felt was blissful darkness.