They crossed the gulf between Acetyn and Axiamat by aerial fleet. As they navigated over the battlefield, Eberekt leaned out of the side of his armoured dragon’s chassis through the side bay door, looking up at the column of cloud and ruin growing from the annihilation of the Axiamat. He flicked his vision between the base and the infrared. Hidden from visible light, the sky was hot and furious, filled with the same burning intensity as the moon. During their approach, the heat of the City of the Axiamat grew blistering, its monumental central rise still alight in the night.


    Avia’s remnant—though radiant as a second sun—failed to react to their passing. It hung suspended over the City, a fragment of a time before time, remaining here in defiance of the impossible.


    In the distance, Eberekt watched as the Genekeeper streaked across the sky. It swept around the glowing fields of the floating remnant and, seeming to find no way to approach it directly, returned to lead their sortie. Keening with the need to act, Eberekt rechecked his rifle and the ammunition magazines strapped at his belt as he waited. During another quick inspection of the electronic servos of his steely exoskeletal bracing, he received a radio transmission.


    “Hope for Humanity, Affa-See-Tee Command. Verified Hash-Ait-Ait Unit continues on mission. End.”


    Eberekt paused, looking down at the floor of his vehicle as it rattled in the desert turbulence. He wrestled with relief despite knowing what he must do next. At least the boy was likely safe, he thought. Pensive, he took his helmet in hand and slipped it over his skull as he broadcast a reply.


    “Affa-See-Tee Command, Hope for Humanity. Received. End.”


    When they descended on the Axiamat’s highest palace, the Celestial Citadel, only one of its mighty phalanx biocannons still drew breath. Already injured, it struggled to lift its barrel and aim towards their approach when the Genekeeper struck.


    Eberekt looked on as the turret was ripped to pieces by the Genekeeper’s hardlight weapon, burning and gouging at it with abandon. The ruby arc then came around, carving a terrible wound into the Citadel itself. As the other vessels settled down around the perimeter of the fortress, Eberekt leapt from his dragon down into the breach.


    The Pilgrim, then, readied for battle, dropped directly down through the thick bone plates of the structure’s armour. Falling further, he descended into a vast hall, a circular structure with its domed ceiling broken through. When he struck the ground, the marble floor shattered, and his exoskeleton and augs absorbed the shock of the impact even as it kicked up through his teeth.


    The interior was smouldering, still. What dressings this palatial residence once possessed was flash heated from the nuclear weapon, and its halls blasted through with unspeakable force. Rubble littered the hall. Cinders drifted through the chamber, whorling upwards to escape into the newly unsealed sky.


    In the centre of the floor, there a giant knelt. It howled in grief.


    Eberekt approached, careful of step, raising his rifle in its sling. He found there a drone, not unlike the Genekeeper. Yet it was possessed of a massive fleshy body, a suit of four strong biomechanical limbs, to replace what Eberekt quickly recognised as broken engines. Its hardlight projectors were also destroyed or removed, he noted. It had no weapons to hand.


    But there…


    In its arms, it held a body.


    The drone’s arms slackened and cradled, revealing a girl blackened and charred by the strike. Her face—what was left of it—was one of abject terror in the end.


    “Don’t move,” Eberekt commanded the biomechanical entity, strafing around it in a wide berth to inspect it from all sides. As he did so, his helmet turned, surveying the hall for other threats.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    They were alone.


    “Retrieval Team, Pilgrim, eyes on the subject. Civic hall, Speaker’s Floor. End,” he radioed, his weapon trained on the grieving drone. A faint buzzing on the periphery of his senses told him that it could hear his transmission.


    “Sim Shala Desht,” the giant said with quiet fury, voice the same artificial countenance as the Genekeeper itself. “Her name was Sim Shala Desht...”


    Rather than replying, Eberekt continued his slow encirclement, returning to the front of the ancient entity. Their gazes locked, the drone’s scanners meeting the cameras of his helmet.


    That was when the Genekeeper arrived, not having deigned to signal their reply. The domed ceiling of the hall cracked and crumbled as it was brushed aside, rubble falling outside of the old structure with a riotous crash. The ground shook, and they descended on screaming engines, kicking to a stop metres above the floor.


    Eberekt trained his rifle on their capture, even as he felt the electromagnetic warble of a sealed communication between the two drones. Whatever they said, they did not share with him.


    The Genekeeper addressed him first. “Take the body. Now. We will need it.”


    “Please do not do this,” the other drone pleaded.


    Eberekt kept a disciplined eye on the kneeling giant. He said not a word, finger poised on the trigger of his rifle as the grieving thing stirred.


    “No…” Its artificial voice all but sobbed. “I won’t let you!”


    The drone dropped the body, trying to rush to its feet and charge Eberekt when he fired. The starburst flash of his rifle burst first the right leg, then both arms of the thing, reducing them to flesh pulp. It collapsed on its second step, the tremendous weight of its metallic central body hitting the marble floor with a sonorous clang.


    Eberekt knew well how to deal with such things. He took a step back to avoid potential ricochets before firing into its center of mass. The rifle’s report echoed sharply in the vast chamber. The drone shuddered as the rounds tore through its chassis, shards of metal and glimmering crystal erupting from the wounds.


    The quadrupedal drone''s ruined biomechanical limbs splayed out as its remaining strength ebbed away. A low, discordant hum emanated from its core—a mournful sound that resonated with the fading echoes of the hall. Its sensors flickered erratically, the once-bright optics dimming as it struggled to focus on Eberekt.


    “Why?” the drone’s artificial voice rasped, laced with static and despair. “She... she was our hope…”


    Eberekt lowered his rifle slightly, his faceless helmet betraying no emotion.


    The Genekeeper descended slowly, its hardlight projectors casting a cool, ethereal glow over the scene. Without acknowledging the fallen drone, it extended a manipulator toward the lifeless body of Sim Shala Desht. Jagged tendrils of light enveloped her charred form, lifting her gently from the debris and encasing her within a shimmering hardlight bubble.


    Eberekt watched as the Genekeeper began to ascend, the body cradled securely within the luminous sphere.


    “Proceed with extraction,” the Genekeeper directed. “There is no time to waste.”


    As it rose through the shattered dome, captured body with it, the Genekeeper spared no glance for the dying drone below. Eberekt followed its ascent with his gaze, the hardlight bubble shrinking into the night sky until it was but a distant glimmer against the burning trunk of the Axiamat above.


    The silence that followed weighed heavily upon Eberekt. He turned back to the quadrupedal drone, which lay immobilised amidst the rubble. Its optics had dimmed to a faint glow, and the hum of its core was fading.


    A spark arced across its damaged chassis, and its limbs twitched involuntarily. Eberekt hesitated, a moment of introspection halting his steps. In the drone’s faltering words, he sensed a shadow of his own doubts. But there was no room for doubt. Not now.


    The mission required resolve.


    Eberekt activated his comms. “Retrieval Team, Pilgrim. Target acquired by the Genekeeper. Proceed with cleanup operations. End.”


    “Pilgrim, Retrieval Team. Affirmative, Pilgrim,” came the response. “Teams en route. End.”


    Now that the Genekeeper and its precious cargo had vanished into the expanse. Eberekt stood alone in the vast hall, looking down at the drone one last time. Now its optics had extinguished, and the hum had ceased. All that remained was a husk—a corpse turned relic of another time, another purpose.


    What that purpose was in a time before time, Eberekt could only guess now.


    What was its name, he wondered.