Through a viewport, clad in my alloyed plate, I stared down at the rebellious planet of Amatius. Unlike the oppressive urban sprawl of Iulius that dominated and consumed almost the entire planet in skyscrapers, Amatius was desert world that was dotted periodically with technological oases that artificially maintained lush forests and prairies that surrounded gleaming architecture. From this vantage point, I could not see the legionary training grounds in the world’s south pole, but I knew that the Solar Guard was concentrating a significant portion of their forces to neutralize or, failing successful pacification, outright extermination. The loss of resources and manpower that Apollo system would suffer as a result had been deemed worthwhile if the Guard could end any rebel threats that might linger.

“I’ve received the alert from command. It’s time to go, Adrias.” Alsig said.

Through the glass, I saw thick blocky bricks of metal launch from the Fulvion flagship down towards the capital city, jets of flame shooting from their backsides. They were mobile teleportation receivers, shielded by forcefields and well armored to prevent being shot down, and would land outside the city where we would be beamed down from orbit in great war parties and battle formations that appeared in a flash.

I tapped my red colored gauntlet’s fingers on the glass viewport and then set off, making my way to the teleportation chamber we would be descending from. As I entered the hangar sized tele-chamber, I curled my lip as I recognized the black and gold circuitry of the floor. This variant of transportation was one I was unpleasantly familiar with, the one that transformed your matter into an odd mixture of light and lightning.

Taking my place amongst the horde of Militares, combat vessels and machines, and a few other Imperators, Alsig linked my comms and my sensor systems with the other warriors, the Imperators having Silicon Daimons of their own in their heads while the Militares had computers in their helmet and backpacks that were connected to their brains through wormwires. If I wanted to, I could listen into the chatter between the rest, but I suspected it was just the black comedic takes of men about to risk their lives for causes they did not really care about one whit beyond what their paycheck said and who signed it.

Hovertanks fired their engines up in the hanger and our bodies shredded into photons and electrons, binding together and lancing down to the receiver that had landed before us. Channeled through the teleportation pod, our energies split outwards in fraying strands, our bodies reforming just in time for me to take an Ember rifle round in the face.

I blacked out for a second, my golden helm warped and darkened from the explosion, and the paint on my right side and front was utterly removed. I had been sent flying a great distance backwards, others scattered like I was if they were close enough to get launched back while still being far enough away from me that their insides had not been pulped.

“Godsdamnit.” I swore and pushed my self up, charging with the rest. I was glad that my vision was projected into my visual cortex by my AI rather than through a screen because my helm had melted and resolidified right against my face, smushing the shape of it so radically that any display would be hard pressed to work.

“Providing firing trajectories…” Alsig said in my head, the Amatian Soldiers’ Ember rifles’ lines of fire helpfully pointed out to me so I could aim dodge their attempts to get another lucky shot in. The coal-like bullets might have moved faster than I did once they were fired, but the Soldiers had to actually get a bead on me long enough to pull the trigger and I was far quicker than the speed of their nerves and muscles.

Our Militares were returning fire and I closed the distance, pulling ahead of my forces, the simmering heat of Heracles just beginning to enflame my innards. Dancing through my opponents, I ripped their insides open and chopped off heads. Left and right, my sword went as it sliced and diced the enemy Soldiers, and my left fist came down like the hammer of an angry god on their heads. The hot sand sprayed up in golden-white plumes as I ran and it fell back down to the ground like snow, the heavy mass of my Adamantplate sinking into the shifting ground like it was liquid.

I rolled in a somersault to avoid an Ember round as it blazed past me at four times the speed of sound, leaping upwards to move away from a second one that exploded behind me. It pushed me up through the air and forwards, the heat and light and forceful sound slamming into my back like a tidal wave. Landing, I cut a Militaris in half and backhanded his compatriot, the second one’s head snapping off his neck.

Leaping over the capital city’s sturdy gates, I slew the gate guards and had Alsig hack into the gate lock to unseal it for the onrush of the rest of our forces. There had been several battle forces of House Fulvion in addition to the companies sent by the Solar Guard. Amatians surrounded me, but they lacked Ember rifles due to being within the city limits, and their ineffectual weapons merely scored and scratched my plate armor.

My forces funneled in, screaming through their helms’ speakers like barbarians. They used their weapons like professionals though, coldly executed and smoothly directed, so I could not complain. Honestly, I would be a hypocrite if I did with half the things I pulled.

We were brutal in more way than one, the defenders might not have been willing to use Ember rifles, but we were, and our side was demolishing buildings left and right, whole blocks’ worth at a time, clearing a direct route to the Subgovernor’s shielded palace that avoided roadblocks and constructed defensive walls.

My heavy boots spashed in the deluge of water caused by shattered fountains and burst water mains, bodies floating in the dirty current filled with debris and human blood. I kicked in a Soldier’s chest, slew three more before they could process what had happened and then shoulder checked a fourth man through a building, collapsing it in the process. The capital was not as protected as I would have thought, were all their major resources deployed elsewhere?

“The Subgovernor would not fear anything but a fellow Silver, it is likely he does not care what forces enter as long as he deals with Theseas.” My Daimon said.

The Regent had told me Theseas would die if he faced the Subgovernor alone, that Marias Maxion had received an alchemical bioenhancer modified for an Imperator’s use.

When I breached the palace grounds, I was assailed by armored Bronze Imperators wielding weapons of shining light.

What are those? I said to Alsig in my mind, having never seen them before.

“Surgesabers. They burn up Jovium in the hilt’s core to create the energy blades.” She replied.

No problem, I thought confidently as I channeled heat into my blade. I would slice through the weapons and armor like I had done to the starship commanding officer.

That confidence was proven overconfidence the moment I touched my crimson flame edged Keenblade to their glowing Surgesabers, it bounced off with a hiss rather than slicing right on through.

Why can’t I cut through the weapons? I asked my AI.

“It’s pure Jovium, Heaven’s Metal, that’s being ignited and projected. Divine forces resisting each other, perhaps?” She replied.

“Isn’t that lovely,” I growled aloud.

I was in a bit of a predicament, I found, the six of them were ganging up on me with the same teamwork and shared processing power and precognitive algorithms that my team had used against the mutant giant and I was holding back from going full force on my psychic augmentation and divine flame powers because while they made me stronger, they also made me more predictable and more emotionally unsteady.

In the end I decided to cheat.

“Contact the nearest six Militares with Ember rifles and give them trajectories for these bastards’ heads.” I ordered Alsig.

“There’s no clear shot-“

“Tell them to shoot through walls of the buildings then, just give them the targeting data.” I said to her, gritting my teeth as I ducked a glowing beam whipping over my head and then parried the blows of two of them tag teaming me.

“Got it.” She replied.

The last thing I remembered before everything turned bright and I was knocked around like a pinball by the Ember rounds’ explosive power, was feeling irritated at how long it was taking for them to take the shot.

I groaned, buried in collapsed construction material after having been abruptly tossed around by the explosions.

Unwedging myself out of molten rubble several blocks away, I hurried back to the palace. My Adamantplate was completely devoid of any paint or identifying marks left on it, leaving only dented metal covered in ash and dust. It seemed symbolic in a way. In the end, no matter whose crests and colors I was wearing at the time, it all was washed away in fire and blood to leave battered and bare metal marked only by the nature of the battlefield.