Ra’azel and Erik watched from far away as their trap was sprung. Their target wore simple robes in white and deep blue colors. His pale fur hugged close to his skin, and the rounded ears on top of his head twitched as he walked. He carried no weapons or other objects of power, not even rings on his fingers. Even from a distance, he struck an image of reserved power. The Sage of the Frosted Moon. Ra’azel had read through the information provided to him by his allies, scant as it was. He had vanished so long ago that records were few and often barely more than a mention of a figure who used to hold influence, known only by titles, without even his name remaining in the memory of others. Ra’azel himself probably knew more; he had witnessed the man’s crowning achievement, a crafting of a Way. The second ever to achieve it. Even Ra’azel offered his respect for that. It was something he couldn’t even imagine. He knew in theory what it was; he had observed its creation, had been in the presence of beings who commanded such power. His constructs had readings that he had carefully looked over, studied, and yet he still failed. He had attempted to create a Way, he had more than enough willpower for it. It did not matter, despite him hijacking the connection to the Framework, despite the might of the body he now wore, despite his intellect and power. He was insufficient; he was missing something. So he did offer respect to the Sage for that. It didn’t change what he would do, because if he couldn’t achieve it on his own, then he would have to take the Sage’s achievement. He would learn from it and grow himself, as he had always done. The ambush was carefully planned, according to the rest of the team gathered for this mission, it was also overkill. Ra’azel knew better, but he didn’t interfere. The Machine God was a terrifying existence, a being whose mind was so vast that it thought with countless parallel thoughts at the same time. Ra’azel was wary of it, had played along, but he had not been idle. He had identified one large weakness in its formidable being. It was an artificial creation, for all that it had a Soul, it did not think in the same way and had few glaring deficiencies. Namely, Atalar had a hard time in understanding and accounting for concepts and ideas beyond what it could verify. Oh, it could postulate, it could analyze data and make theories, it could extrapolate. If it had data, it could predict with almost complete accuracy. But the nature of the Infinite Realm had something deeper. And for all of its power, Atalar’s Soul was still that of a child. It was amusing, in a way it shared the same weakness Ra’azel did. Neither of them was capable of truly grasping the heights that they knew existed. Fresh chapters posted on novel✦fire.net The ambush was triggered. Ra’azel’s construct activated, in a moment the ground beneath the Sage’s feet erupted. He had linked triggers with the more mundane weaponry of the Exalted Empire. Their mines exploded, rippling their effects into the air; a wave of Essence exploded outward, locking down space, preventing powers of teleportation from working. A second group followed in the same breath, sending a charged blast of what the empire called Electricity Essence, targeting the Sage’s mind. It apparently worked well against those who still had bodies made out of flesh and blood. The intent was to stun him, but a simple distraction would’ve sufficed. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. It did not seem to be effective against the Sage. Ra’azel watched from far away, his eyes catching the details with little difficulty, his constructs recording and transmitting directly to him. He had made a point to study Time after he had encountered Zacharia’s skill with it. He was of course not capable of achieving the things Zacharia could. Turning back time, affecting it on such a scale. But Ra’azel knew enough that he could interfere. He also knew enough that he knew tricks and ways of dealing with such things. Speeding up his mind altered his perception of it. Time slowed down for him, his senses allowed him to observe with clarity. The Sage missed the activation of the mines, their initial blasts rose upward, the space was locked down without the Sage reacting, those meant to stun were ineffective and he didn’t even seem to notice them. He reacted once the Reaction Engine activated. It was the smaller version of the weapon, the one they’ve been testing for mass production as a replacement for their main weapon systems. Ra’azel could just imagine them firing a hundred missiles of Reaction Engines. It was a powerful weapon, one that would kill most people without them having the chance to survive. But if you knew what it was, how it worked, as Ra’azel did, you understood that at the base level it was all just Essence. A Reaction Engine was a conglomeration of destructive Essences forced together, turned into a means of breaking down anything in their path, feeding off that initial energy that forced the reaction’s creation. Feed it enough Essence, and it would satiate the weapon’s hunger. The Sage didn’t do what Ra’azel would’ve; instead, he jumped into the air, where Ra’azel wanted him to be. The Reaction Engine was always just a distraction, a move on the board. The Reaction Engine could kill the Soul if one wasn’t careful, and they didn’t want that. Once the Sage was out of range, the sky rippled above like the surface of an ocean, and a shape breached through, opening fire in the process. Lances of fire rained down from within the cloud of expanding Void painting the sky violet. The walls of the canyon shattered, and the constructs Ra’azel had buried within exploded, then drones came alive and fired lasers capable of burning through mountains. His vision was obscured for a moment among the carnage, but his constructs still followed their target, relaying the targeting information to everybody else. From another hill across the territory, precision attacks from the fire-team lanced through toward their target. Ra’azel leaned forward, and despite knowing better, he allowed himself to hope that perhaps the world would decide that his pessimism was misplaced. He should’ve known better. The world trembled and froze. The hole in the sky snapped shut and cut the massive Void Ship in half, sending that piece tumbling down. Explosions rocked it for a moment, and then even that froze, like a painted tapestry in the sky. Even its fire was frozen in the barrels of its turrets. The explosions in the canyon stopped, everything stopped. Lasers hung in the air like strings stretching from one point to another, pieces of debris stood suspended in the air as their trajectories were halted. The light of the sun faded and a pale blue moon showed itself above as if it had always been there. Ra’azel could feel its gaze, could feel the will behind it commanding him to stop, for his very being to be halted and frozen. He tapped his chest and armor blossomed on his being, tiny scales cascaded until they covered him whole, each delicately engraved with a series of runes that shone faintly. Ra’azel turned to Erik. “I guess it’s our turn now.” The mercenary didn’t respond verbally, instead, blue fire blossomed over his body, shrouding him like a cloak. Ra’azel carved a rune into the world and space bent to his will, carrying the two of them to their target.