Aim… and hold.

  Arthur’s mind stayed off the trigger as he traced the path of yet another distant demon squad through the scope of his cannon. This one was a bit more special than the ones he had fought before.

  A single cyclops dragging a rusty battle axe. And a swarm of unusually large skeletal bats with patches of half-burned flesh.

  An odd pairing, if he had to be honest. Not that he minded. They were the perfect targets. He just needed them to come a bit closer.

  Firing an HE into a clustered group was one thing. Hitting a cyclops in the head from the same distance with an AP shell was another. Not even his instinctual knowledge of how to guide his shots could guarantee a perfect hit. Not yet, at least.

  Thus, he waited, and waited.

  Arthur had already taken a position atop a hillock that gave him a clear view of the land ahead. Sure, getting here cost him twenty percent of his Ether to fire the Hook, but the tactical advantage of this vantage point was worth it. He just couldn’t mess up the shot.

  No pressure at all.

  The AP shell waited in the chamber, the gears of his turret turning slowly as he continued to follow the demons’ path. He had the perfect view of the cyclops’ face from this angle, and with each second, it filled more of his scope.

  Just a little bit more. Come on… come on… and… Now!

  His cannon shuddered, smoke billowing out of the barrel as the AP shell went flying. As luck would have it, though, at that precise moment, the Cyclops and its swarm paused for some reason.

  That was all it took.

  The shell missed, slamming into the ground behind the group.

  Shit! Arthur cursed. Load another.

  His subsystems groaned, slotting in a new round as the swarm screeched and the Cyclops locked onto his position. The nearby rocks and fires helped to hide his presence before, but not even the demons were dumb enough to fail at tracking a sound so loud.

  They charged toward him, the swarm pulling ahead of the Cyclops.

  The reload continued, so Arthur readied his machine gun. He didn’t fire yet, though. No reason to waste more ammo than absolutely necessary on those annoying pests. One of his previous fights showed just how useless they were against him. No, the Cyclops was the priority.

  And lucky him, the brute hadn’t thought to shield its head.

  The lock of his cannon chamber clicked.

  Arthur adjusted his aim, counted to three, and pulled the trigger.

  Boom! Direct hit!

  The AP shell punched clean through the Cyclops’ head, obliterating what little it had inside. With nothing to control the body, the corpse tripped over a rock in its path and tumbled to the ground, never to rise again.

  That just left the swarm of over a dozen bats.

  Even if they reached him, there was nothing in their arsenal that could harm him. No fire. No special weapons. Just a few tiny claws, way too weak to even put a scratch on his hull. Still, that was no reason to let them live.

  Omnimatter and UP were still on the line.

  Arthur opened fire.

  The bats dropped to the ground like flies after just a quick spray of his machine gun. They were truly the weakest he had faced of the bunch.

  That’s the third. Arthur chuckled and fired up his engine. From there, he slowly—at snail’s pace even—rolled down the hillock toward his defeated foes.

  Battle won! 1 UP awarded. Your Core grows stronger.

  A bit disappointing, but not enough to sour his mood. This was his third wipeout since discovering the Root of Corruption. Even if each group gave him only a single UP, progress was still progress. Soon, he would be able to upgrade his engine.

  Can’t wait.

  Some time later, he reached the corpses and let his Armory do its job. To his surprise, all this gave him forty Omnimatter. Pretty nice considering the last group with those bats gave him just ten.

  I’m moving up in the world. He laughed again, only to sober up a bit when he remembered the state of his ammo reserves. Right, time for a break.

  There was just no way he could push deeper into this hell-infested territory with just a single AP shell and some machine gun ammo. Besides, the night was coming, and while he wasn’t blind in the dark, his nightvision was far from perfect. Not even his impatience could force him to go out half-assed.

  He had died once already, and going back to the void wasn’t on his list of things to do. He made a promise after all, and planned to keep it no matter what this new world threw at him. For that to happen, he needed to be smart, or well smart-ish at least.

  Those ruins should be good enough, Arthur hummed, starting toward his new target. Two standing walls and one half-collapsed weren’t much, but they should be enough to hide him if he parked inside.

  The way to the ruins was far from quick, though. Fires, holes, and now the occasional strange crimson flowers that spat fire at him sometimes blocked his path, forcing him to take detours. At the very least, he could ignore the clusters of glowing yellow rocks that oozed toxic fumes.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  Not having to breathe had its advantages.

  By the time the sun almost sank beneath the horizon, Arthur arrived at what might have once been a house. He put his vessel into reverse and backed into the ruins. The remnants of the burned floor shattered under his weight, but thankfully, there were no holes here he could fall into.

  The engine cut off, and silence consumed the area, only accompanied by the distant soft crackle of fires.

  Alone in hell… Arthur chuckled. Fitting, I guess.

  He shoved aside the nagging voice reminding him that he could have just ridden along the border of the forest until he found an easier path. So what if curiosity had dragged him here? Sooner or later, he had to reach the end of this cursed place, right?

  Ah, delusion. How I have missed you…

  Without even meaning to, he activated Silent Observer and settled his gaze on the fading sun. Maybe he was alone in the middle of a hostile territory chasing some stupid roots. Maybe he was a machine instead of a man. But did any of that matter in the face of getting another chance at life?

  No. No, it didn’t.

  And so we wait…

  Hours flew by as the Generator worked overtime to replenish his ammunition and fuel reserves. It succeeded to some degree, but Arthur didn’t pay much attention to that. Instead, he remained in his spirit form, even sacrificing Ether to keep it online, so that he could watch out for any potential threats in the dark.

  Definitely a more interesting task than just counting rocks. That was for sure.

  Hell, he would have spent the whole night like that, drifting from wall to wall, if not for the notification that appeared a few hours before dawn. Once he read it, he felt stupid that he had somehow forgotten about this.

  Bloodwing adaptation nearing completion. Egg release in one minute. Preparations in progress…

  This was followed by another message, one that confused him quite a bit.

  Warning! Your Armory has unlocked a new subsystem: Drone Bay.

  The what now? Why the hell would I need a place for drones? I mean, I don’t mind, but still…

  Even as he thought that, Arthur wasn’t idle. He slipped back into his hull after opening the hatch and settled before the large egg of the Bloodwing. Ten seconds now…

  Five…

  Three…

  Two…

  One…

  A crack appeared on the egg, then another and another. Bit by bit, the shell crumbled away, revealing the creature inside. To his surprise, it wasn’t a chick but a fully grown bird.

  It reminded Arthur a bit of a crow in size and build. Only the colors were wrong, as instead of being fully black, the bird before him was as red as fresh blood. It had some white on its underbelly and chin, though.

  Huh… pretty cool, he thought. And as if the Bloodwing had heard him, it turned its dark eyes toward his floating spirit form. You can hear me?

  The bird cawed.

  Okay, this is getting interesting… System?

  The entity answered him at once.

  Congratulations! You have obtained your Commander Drone, the general of your future, potential fleet. She shall be your loyal companion until the end of time. Treat each other well.

  Skill unlocked: Mutual Understanding.

  You may now manage your fleet through Drone Bay.

  Oh… So that’s the reason for the new part. Arthur’s gaze returned to his new… companion? So you’re a drone. At least partially a machine… Damn, people on the internet were right. Birds really aren’t real.

  The Bloodwing squeaked at him.

  Sorry, sorry. Didn’t mean anything bad by that.

  The bird didn’t look convinced. To save his fading sanity, Arthur averted his gaze and quickly summoned the description of his new skill. It told him what he pretty much already expected.

  [Mutual Understanding (Max) - There are no barriers between you and your Commander Drone. You understand her. She understands you.]

  Okay, what about this Drone Bay?

  Right away, a menu with two options popped up in front of him. The first was called “Upgrade your Commander,” and the other “Produce your Fleet.”

  Arthur went with the former first.

  [Commander Drone (Tier I)]

  Name: Pending

  Arsenal: 5.56mm Machine Gun, Falling Grenades

  Abilities: Fleet Command (0/5)

  Armor: None

  Speed: F+

  “Your loyal companion. The commander of your fleet. A glass-cannon. A quick one, though.”

  Even though it looked similar to the descriptions of his parts, Arthur just couldn’t move past one line.

  You have a machine gun?! By the love of god, where?!

  The Bloodwing chirped and opened her beak wide. That was when he saw it, the barrel of a gun at the back of her throat.

  That can’t be comfortable, was the first thought that came to his mind. Then another occurred to him. And let me guess, you shit out grenades?

  A happy chirp.

  Arthur would have facepalmed if he had hands. This was his life now. A murder drone-bird as a companion. And it could understand him.

  The Bloodwing squeaked indignantly.

  Sorry, she can understand me… Okay… That’s nothing, Arthur. You are a damned tank. Weird is your new normal. Just roll with it.

  He took a proverbial deep breath and returned his attention to the bird.

  You need a name. Any ideas?

  She tilted her head sharply, then gave him a look that all but screamed, “Isn’t that your job?”

  Arthur scoffed.

  Come on. Help me out here, or I’m naming you Skippy.

  The squawk he received in response was like music to his non-existent ears.

  That’s what I thought. To work then!

  They spent the rest of the night coming up with a name for the Bloodwing. Or rather, it was just Arthur tossing out every name he could think of while the bird shot down each one with a resolute no. He had almost gone ahead with just calling her Skippy, but then a distant memory of his resurfaced.

  Myths. Greek, if he remembered right. He had read about them a few times—maybe school?—and one name stood out to him.

  Athena.

  She was a goddess of… well, that much his memory failed to tell him, but he was pretty sure she had some connection to birds. It was that or he was tripping. Which, fair, could be the case.

  Still, Arthur presented the name to the Bloodwing, and for the first time, she didn’t protest.

  You like it? he asked to make sure.

  The bird… no, Athena now, chirped and nodded.

  Then what do you say we find out just how well you can fly?

  Athena spread her crimson wings.