The Factory was alive with the hum of machinery, its gears turning, its metal limbs shifting in anticipation. Avaris sat in his grand throne, his granite hands resting on the armrests, his eye focused on the crystal panels. The crystals with its dark, pulsating violet energy began to glow brighter with each passing second, the glow coloring the room with an unnatural radiance.

  Avaris exhaled slowly, a gleam of satisfaction in his eye. “The golems are ready,” he said, his voice steady and calm. “From this chair, every golem, every mechanism, every cog within the Factory will be under my command.”

  His words were punctuated by the faintest movement in the air. Lorran, the many-armed Master, stepped forward, his bendy limbs flexing. With a single, swift motion, he reached for his shoes. A faint crackle of energy surged through him, and in an instant, he began to vibrate with Haste, his limbs moving faster than Kael could track. His six arms shot out, stretching and pulling with an unnatural grace, each arm deftly turning a knob, pulling a lever, and pressing various buttons with calculated precision.

  “Lord Avaris, everything is in order,” Lorran said, his head bowed slightly. His many arms were a blur of movement now, ensuring that every piece of machinery was primed for the invasion.

  Avaris glanced at him with a small, approving nod before turning to the others. “Lira,” he said, his voice steady and commanding. “Borata, stay close to me. The final stages will require your presence.”

  Borata, a massive Master with a body that was half-flesh, half-metal, nodded, his great mechanical limbs clanking as he shifted into place beside Avaris. His imposing form loomed near the throne, his face unreadable. Lira, her mechanical wings fluttering slightly as she stepped forward, gave Avaris a firm nod. The weight of the mace she carried seemed to make the ground tremble beneath her feet. She was ready for whatever would come.

  Kael, who had been silent until now, stood at the edge of the group, feeling the familiar tension of impending action settle in his chest. Avaris turned to him, his expression as unreadable as ever.

  “Kael,” Avaris said. “Head down the stairs to the loading room. Everything must be in place before we begin.”

  In the distance, he could hear the unmistakable sound of gears grinding, the anticipation building with every second. He turned and descended the stairs, his trusty Ice Sickle and Blacksmithing Hammer hanging at his side.

  The narrow staircase led to back to the tube room, its walls lined with raw materials, crates, and spare parts. At the far end of the room, three golems, each one a collection of working steel and gears, scrambled with crates in their hands. Their movements were fluid, but mechanical, each step accompanied by the subtle hiss of steam and the grinding sound of metal.

  Without a word, Kael sent one of his wisps into the tube nearby, watching as it flew into the crystal tube with a soft, crackling hum. “Goodbye, Sparky,” Kael murmured under his breath, his voice barely audible.

  The golem, nearest to the tube, turned its mechanical head toward him, its glowing eyes flickering with recognition. “It is nice you name your summons,” the golem said in a low, grating voice. “Most do not.”

  Kael raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Does Avaris not name his summons, then?” he asked, his voice casual, as he moved closer to inspect the others.

  The golem paused, its gears clicking in thought before responding. “We are not summons,” it stated. “We are constructs. The Gearsmith created us. I am Weapon Loader 5.”

  A larger golem with a thickset frame, turned to Kael with a mechanical groan. "Heloooo! I’m Weapon Loader Sixxxxxx," the golem groaned, waving its massive arms in a strangely human gesture.

  The smaller golem with three arms, followed suit, raising its three limbs in unison. “Hi!” it said, its voice higher-pitched than the others, though still heavily mechanized. “Weapon loader 7, at your service!”

  Kael couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of it all. “You should have names,” he said, his tone light and amused. “If we’re going to work together, I’d like to think we’re more than just numbers.”

  The golems paused, their movements slowing for a moment as if they were considering the suggestion. Finally, Kael, with a wave of his hand, declared: “I’ll call you Gerry,” he said to Weapon Loader 5, “and you are Big Guy,” he gestured to the larger golem. Then, he turned to the three-armed golem, “And you’ll be Three Arms.”

  To his surprise, despite the poor names, the golems seemed pleased, or at least their mechanical movements suggested as much. Gerry’s gears clicked with what could only be called satisfaction, and Big Guy let out a low, rumbling sound that might have been approval. Three Arms swiveled its three limbs in a circle, each arm swaying fluidly. The sight was almost absurd, but Kael felt a certain, strange connection had formed.

  “Names,” Gerry said, a crackling sound from its chest as it spoke. “It is... interesting. We like them.”

  Kael gave a small smile, pleased with his decision. “Good,” he said. “Now, let’s make sure we can work well together. Since you’re not summoned. How are you created?”

  Gerry’s glowing eyes dimmed slightly as it processed the question. After a pause, it answered in a soft, mechanical hum. “The shiny crystal in our heart is our lifeforce. It is what gives us life. Without it, we are nothing but parts—pieces of metal and gears. The Gearsmith imbued each of us with one, and we exist to serve his will.”

  Kael nodded slowly, his thoughts swirling. It was clear that Avaris’s creations were far more than mere machines, they were living entities, animated by the power of these crystals. And yet, despite their lifeforce, they were bound to serve, devoid of the freedom that Kael’s slimes and other summons experienced.

  “I see,” Kael said, his voice thoughtful. “So, you exist to serve the Gearsmith’s designs, but your purpose is tied to those crystals.”

  Gerry nodded. “Correct.”

  “Alright, Gerry, Big Guy, Three Arms, let’s see if we can make use of that strength of yours.”

  Big Guy, Three Arms, and Gerry all stood at attention, waiting for Kael’s next move.

  Just before Kael could give an order, the ground beneath his feet trembled as the Factory rumbled to life. The sound of grinding metal filled the air, sharp and unnatural, as if the entire tower was groaning in its waking. Kael’s eyes snapped to the floor beneath him as the vibrations ran through his legs, and the oppressive weight of the building shifted.

  He moved quickly, his feet carrying him to the edge of the massive chamber. Through the mouth of the great skull at the top of the Factory, he peered outside.

  At first, the view was nothing more than a blur of moving shadows, but as his eyes adjusted, Kael saw it clearly, large wheels, each taller than ten men, slowly turning at the base of the Factory. The entire structure was shifting. The ground beneath it shifted, grinding and creaking with each slow turn, as if the Factory itself were awakening from a long sleep.

  The rumbling grew louder, a deafening roar that vibrated through Kael’s bones. His stomach lurched as the Factory began to move, its gears turning and its massive, mechanical limbs straining. The air shifted with the motion, a cold gust of wind rushing through the skull’s mouth. The great machinery beneath Kael’s feet groaned in protest, but the Factory did not stop. Instead, it began to glide, slowly at first, then with increasing speed.

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  Kael’s breath caught in his throat as he realized what was happening. Avaris had turned the Factory into a mobile siege weapon, a monstrous contraption capable of moving across the landscape. The steel skull atop the Factory, once a symbol of ominous intent, now seemed like the helm of a deadly warship, its eyes glowing with the fire of ambition.

  He turned his gaze to the horizon, and in the distance, beyond the trees, he saw it. Highhaven's towering spires, taller than anything Kael had ever seen. The wooden structures of Highhaven grew like living trees, their trunks twisting upward into the sky, reaching toward the clouds. The tallest tower of them all stood proudly in the center, a sentinel among the forest, more majestic than anything in the Factory’s cold, mechanical domain.

  Highhaven seemed untouchable but the machines of Avaris had begun their march, and the road before them was straight, clear of obstruction. The massive trees lining the road were tall, but not tall enough to impede the Factory’s progress.

  The Factory would not stop until it reached Highhaven. Kael could feel it now. There was no mercy, no hesitating. The machinery would keep turning, the gears would keep grinding, and the war would continue until there was nothing left to destroy.

  Above him, Lorran was at work, his many arms moving with a blur, pulling levers and turning knobs, adjusting the machinery with an almost unnatural speed. The great skull above them seemed to watch, its empty eye sockets reflecting the firelight, its hollow grin frozen in a silent snarl.

  “Kael, fire,” Avaris commanded, his tone unwavering.

  Kael’s fingers twitched at the signal, the wisp in the tube, Sparky, detonated. A bright flash of light erupted from the center of the Factory, and in that instant, Kael’s eyes glinted coldly.

  A massive boom rang out, a violent shockwave that rattled the ground beneath their feet. The roar of the explosion reverberating through the Factory like thunder. Kael didn’t look back as he stared into the distance, watching the enormous steel rod, the size of a large tree, shoot from the Factory, propelled by the force of Sparky’s destruction. The massive projectile flew with terrifying speed toward Highhaven, cutting through the air like a missile.

  But before the rod could reach its target, something unexpected happened. A glowing shield materialized out of nowhere, hexagonal shapes flickering as it expanded into place, an impenetrable barrier between the rod and the city beyond. Kael’s heart skipped a beat as the projectile collided with the shield, the force of the impact shuddering through the air.

  The rod bent unnaturally as it came to a sudden, violent stop, the energy of its speed transferred into the metal. The colossal weapon, once aimed to obliterate, dropped to the side with a deafening thud, the sound of metal hitting earth shaking the ground beneath them. The shield flickered briefly before fading from view, as if Highhaven’s defenders had seen the attack coming.

  Avaris’s voice rang out once more, steely and confident. “Forward.”

  Kael clenched his fists at his side. This was only the beginning.

  He reached into his orb again, this time calling forth another wisp—Azura. The wisp appeared, its ethereal body glowing with a vibrant blue light. Kael gave it a quiet command. "Azura, go into the tube.”

  Azura darted into the tube without hesitation, her form a streak of radiant energy as she entered the tube. The Factory groaned in response as its gears turned again, shifting ever closer to its destination, Highhaven.

  At the heart of Highhaven, Oluru stood before the Mother Crystal, the ancient, kaleidoscopic gem that hummed with the very essence of the fae. The crystal floated in the center of the grand chamber, its light rippling in all directions, casting swirling patterns of color across the walls. The air around it vibrated with tangible energy, a force older than the city itself, as if the very soul of the fae pulsed through it.

  Oluru, his expression as resolute as the stone walls around him, placed his hand gently on the crystal’s surface. His brow furrowed in concentration, his connection with the Mother Crystal deepening with each passing second. As his fingers brushed the cool, smooth surface, a burst of bright sparks of mana shot through him, filling him with the raw power of the fae.

  "Mother Crystal, protect us," Oluru said, his voice low but filled with determination. The light from the crystal flared brighter, and the mana surged around him, weaving through his body like fire coursing through his veins. The immense power of the crystal was a gift, one he had spent years learning to channel.

  With a deep breath, Oluru raised his hands to the sky, the gathered energy coiling around his arms like the flares of the sun. His voice rang out in a chant, a prayer to the Mother Crystal for protection, for the strength to push back the looming threat.

  A single moment of stillness hung in the air before Oluru released the power within him. The crackling energy burst from his hands in a radiant beam of light, a column of pure, concentrated mana that shot toward the Factory. The beam sliced through the air like a spear, its light brighter than the sun itself, a ray of devastation sent straight into the heart of the enemy.

  The Factory trembled as the beam struck, and the force rattling the ground beneath Kael’s feet. The blast sent a shockwave through the structure, causing everything to shudder with the power of the assault.

  Kael was thrown off his feet, the blast knocking him to the floor with a force that sent a sharp sting of pain through his body. His head spun, disoriented from the blast. He groaned, struggling to rise, but Gerry and Three Arms were there, their mechanical limbs reaching down to help him back to his feet.

  The air smelled of burning metal and acrid smoke, and Kael felt the heat radiating from the walls of the Factory. He staggered to his feet, looking down from the high vantage of the Skull floor. Through the shattered walls, he could see the devastation the beam had caused. Fires burned brightly in the distance, licking at the steel and stone of the Factory’s structure.

  Gerry, his eyes gleaming, placed a steadying hand on Kael’s shoulder. "That was... unexpected," the golem said, his voice low, vibrating with mechanical concern.

  Kael’s gaze was fixed on the smoke and fire below. His mind raced. Oluru’s power had shattered the Factory’s defenses, but not completely. The golems were still functioning, the Factory still standing. But the message had been sent. Highhaven was not a city that would fall easily. The fae had their own strength, and Oluru’s beam was proof of that.

  Kael pushed himself to his feet, the tension mounting in his chest building. The fight had only just begun, and already, both sides had shown their strength.

  Avaris’s voice thundered through the Factory, a cold, unyielding command that reverberated through the very bones of the structure. His words carried with them an air of arrogance, a declaration that would have chilled even the bravest heart. “Such simple magic cannot beat my golems.”

  Kael stood frozen for a moment, watching as Avaris’s plan unfolded before him. The energy that had been released by the blast earlier seemed to settle, but that brief victory would not last. It was as though Avaris was merely toying with them—an unsettling sense of inevitability hovered in the air.

  Then, with a calculated flick of Avaris’s hand, he called forth Winged Division 1 and 2.

  Kael’s gaze shifted to the floor of the Factory, where what had once been mere piles of scattered gears and scrap metal now began to move. They twisted, clanked, and ground together as though animated by some unseen force. Pieces of iron, steel, and machinery assembled themselves in a way that was both inspiring and terrifying.

  The metallic limbs clicked into place with a sharp, rhythmic precision, and the winged golems began to take shape. Their wings unfurled, massive and jagged, made of metal and sharp edges. The claws that formed from the gears were lethal, designed for rending and tearing through flesh.

  Kael could only watch as the golems, now fully assembled, slowly lifted from the ground. Their mechanical wings beat, cutting through the air like a swarm of deadly insects. They were at least a hundred strong, their gleaming, metallic bodies reflecting the dim glow of the Factory’s torches.

  The sound of their wings was deafening as the first of the golems flew out of the Factory, their sharp claws cutting through the air with unnatural grace. Kael watched, as the others followed, moving with the precision of a well-oiled machine. The first wave of the invasion was in motion.

  As the golems surged forward, Kael’s thoughts flickered to Highhaven. He could already see the answer in the distance. Black dots emerging on the horizon.

  They moved as a great mass, a sweeping tide of darkness filling the sky. Kael’s heart lurched. The dots weren’t birds or creatures, as he first thought. They were the fae. The protectors of Highhaven. They filled the air, a great flock of warriors that would make even the mightiest army tremble.

  The sheer number of them was staggering. They filled the sky from horizon to horizon, blocking out the sun with their dark forms. The winged fae soared through the air with practiced ease, their magic weaving through the air like invisible threads. It was a display of power, of unity, and it was beautiful and terrifying.

  The battle lines were drawn. Was this what he narrowly avoided with the ceasefire just the other day? Would a war of this magnitude ever be brought to his square?

  He could feel the weight of the moment. This was not just a battle for the square or for power. It was a war between two worlds, two forces, each striving to shape the world in their own image.

  ******