Chapter 53: Mechanima Face-Off
"Basil. Expand."
As I uttered these words, Basil initiated her transformation.
Bright green runes appeared along her body, and her metallic scales shimmered.
The segments forming her body gracefully shifted and extended.
Her sleek and petite form elongated as the metal morphed, unveiling concealed segments and mechanisms that multiplied and transformed before being veiled by the undulating metallic scales.
The green glow emanating from beneath the scales intensified. Tiny gears and servo motors hummed in unison as Basil's body extended and thickened.
In just a minute, the white serpent mechanima underwent a breathtaking transformation, morphing from the size of a garter snake to that of a large cobra, stretching about six meters in length and as thick as my arm.
With a more powerful hiss, Basil yawned again, revealing clear crystalline fangs now double their previous length.
The white metallic scales covering her sleek body shimmered, and the green glow of her primal core subtly peeked through the gaps between the scales.
Adorning the tip of her tail was a serrated blade crafted from Moon silver, its edge embellished with powdered basilisk emerald.
I couldn't help but be in awe of the magnificent mechanima sprawled on the counter before me.
No matter how many times I witnessed her transformation, it never failed to take my breath away.
"Still a beauty," Dorothy chuckled, gently stroking the mechanical serpent's head. Basil flicked her tongue and emitted a satisfied hiss.
"I'm definitely not jealous," Iris said, wearing an envious expression as she observed Basil.
Perry gave an angry squawk, unfurling his massive wings and quivering his enchanting silver feathers in a display of intimidation.
His glowing sapphire eyes bore into the white serpent. Basil responded with a powerful hiss, lifting her body and revealing her fangs.
She constantly shifted her scales, producing a quivering effervescent noise, and her glowing emerald eyes locked onto the silver falcon.
The air crackled as the two powerful mechanimas faced each other.
For some reason, Basil and Perry couldn't stand each other, and their rivalry was evident in their intense competitiveness.
Typically, they would intimidate each other during sparring practice and on the battlefield.
But this time, the tension escalated within Dorothy's store.
And matters only got worse.
Perry took to the air, flapping his powerful wings and releasing strong gusts of wind that rattled the weapons on display and sent papers and catalogs fluttering off the counter.
In response, Basil extended her body to a whopping eight meters, towering over us and escalating the already charged atmosphere.
Her powerful hiss reverberated throughout the store, shaking the ground and filling the space with the quivering of her scales.
"Basil! Calm down!"
"Perry! Stop it!"
Iris and I frantically tried to pacify the two mechanimas. The commotion drew the attention of other Deathwalkers, and many of them observed the confrontation through the front windows of the store.
I looked at Dorothy for help, but she just shrugged.
"They're your mechanima. Deal with them."
Iris and I exchanged looks and nodded. Channeling ardor into our voices, we spoke loudly in unison.
"Enough!"
The entire store rumbled as a wave of ardor swept over the mechanima, immediately subduing them.
Basil and Perry retreated under the weight of our commanding presence, with Basil even reverting to her diminutive form and clumsily slithering towards me.
She appeared so pitiful that a pang of guilt washed over me.
"Just take a brief rest," I sighed, kneeling to the ground and extending my arm.
The little mechanima coiled around my wrist, her scales blending seamlessly with my white sleeve.
She gave me one more nod with her small head and bit her tail, fashioning a sort of bracelet that looked quite stylish on my arm.
"I think I want you to be the size of a sparrow," Iris mused as Perry awkwardly waddled over to her, looking as pitiful as Basil with his round blue eyes.
Iris sighed, "Fine. You are excused. Just don't repeat it."
Perry gave a happy mechanical squawk and gracefully flew to her shoulder.
The Deathwalkers who were watching the tense face-off resumed their activities, going back to whatever Deathwalkers do in their free time between battles.
"Sorry about that," I apologized to Dorothy. Iris apologized as well.
Dorothy grinned, "It's all good. That was quite entertaining." Her gaze swept across the store.
"Although, I'd appreciate a hand in tidying up. You still have time until the newbies arrive, right?"
Iris and I nodded simultaneously.
"Of course, we'll help!"
*******
"Ow! I should've worn my gloves!" I rubbed my palms together, attempting to stave off the biting cold wind of the mountain that seeped through the hole in my right palm.
"My, Princess Elaine must've had some sadistic friends. That hole looks more agonizing than the rest of the scars on your body," Iris quipped, her gaze shifting to my palm.
"It stings when the cold air passes through the hole," I grumbled.
"Any chance of healing it? It's not a scar from a daemon, you know? There are treatments to heal this type of permanent wound," she suggested.
I shrugged, "Meh. I think I'll keep this to remind me of my past weakness."
"Weird," Iris frowned and then shrugged, "But hey. Your choice."
Standing at the airfield on the other side of the Shield, we were dressed in our Deathwalker uniforms, patiently awaiting the arrival of the new recruits.
Basil remained coiled around my wrist, and Perry gracefully circled in the air.
Various military aircraft dotted the airfield, including cargo airplanes, air carriers, and various helicopters.
Not far from us, technicians were busy working on an attack helicopter.
They are usually used for patrolling the area around the Tear and to make sure nothing nasty enters the area or even leaves the area.
Accompanied by drones controlled by Minerva, they remain airborne almost indefinitely, only landing for maintenance and ardor crystal replacements in their infinity engines.
Charon 1 and Charon 2, the air carriers used to transport the deceased, were being filled with caskets containing the remains of yesterday's fallen Deathwalkers.
No matter how often I witnessed it, the sight of these airborne vessels of death left me unsettled.
Those two airships serve as a grim reminder of the high death toll in Blood Valley and the inevitability of the Tomb in a Deathwalker's existence.
Speaking of the Tomb, the colossal mountain used to house the remains of Deathwalkers without families loomed in the distance, its cold and imposing form concealing the remains of possibly a million Deathwalkers.
As snow began to fall, Charon 1 activated its engines. With a powerful gust of wind, it lifted off the ground and made its way toward the mountain of the dead, now covered by clouds and mist.
It was soon followed by Charon 2. The smaller craft turned toward the mainland, accompanied by a helicopter escort, bearing the remains of Deathwalkers at the behest of their grieving families.
Those Deathwalkers will be hailed as heroes by the people, but in reality, a majority of them were fools who got themselves killed.
"It's funny, isn't it? When a Deathwalker dies, they are hailed as a hero, when, in reality, they died a truly idiotic death. Yet, when a surviving Deathwalker leaves the Shield after serving their sentence, they are treated as murderers and social pariahs," Iris remarked as if she had read my mind.
She scoffed, "The people prefer us dead over alive."
"Sometimes I wonder why we even fight and die for these sheltered idiots who abhor our very existence."
I couldn't help but kind of agree with her.
Deathwalkers receive no kindness from the general population, and this is one of the primary reasons only a handful of them opt to leave the Shield.
However, all are haunted by the nightmares they experienced in Blood Valley. Furthermore, each Deathwalker carries the mental scars of their experiences.
Among those who leave, some are unable to cope with the nightmares and take their lives.
For them, a quick slice of the wrist or the tightening of the noose around one's neck seems a better fate than living with relentless nightmares.
Others descend into madness, finding themselves confined to psychiatric hospitals, where they endure a lifetime of constant mental anguish before dying in pitiable circumstances.
Some embrace their descent into madness, evolving into crazed killers or the darkest criminals.
The harsh truth remains that your life is irreversibly marred the moment you step into the Shield.
Only a handful of Deathwalkers remain strong, striving to lead normal lives despite the profound fractures in their minds and souls.
But even they are not entirely free from the haunting specters of their demons.
As these somber thoughts swirled in my mind, I heard Iris's voice.
"Hey. The fresh meatsuits are here."
I followed her gaze into the sky and couldn't help but whistle at the impressive sight.
The silhouette of a massive object created a substantial blot in the mist, steadily enlarging as it approached.
Soon the mist parted to reveal a massive air carrier, slowly and gracefully navigating between the mountain peaks as it made its way to the airfield.
Escorted by a squadron of attack helicopters, it presented an impressive spectacle in the sky.
"No matter how many times I see it, it is still awesome," I remarked as the massive craft stopped midair and hovered above the airfield.
Its powerful thrusters scattered the snow and reverberated through the ground.
The Argo. Among the largest aircraft globally, engineered to transport substantial cargo and even passengers across vast distances.
Fitted with massive infinity engines, the Argo boasts the capability to circumnavigate the globe many times for an entire week at full power without refueling.
In a stationary hover, it can remain airborne for a month.
Filled to the nose with state-of-the-art technology, this particular model operates fully automated under Minerva's control, with a highly skilled crew for vigilant monitoring.
That is how impressive this behemoth is.
All hail the future!
"You got the list?" I asked Iris as the massive craft descended slowly, softly landing on the tarmac.
"Yep. I'll send it to you."
My bracelet and smartphone chimed as she sent the list. I accessed it and my bracelet projected a holographic display showing the list of newbies.
"This is quite the list," I remarked.
"About a hundred newbies. Quite a small number to use the Argo, though."
"There's a lot of cargo," Iris quipped.
Good one, Iris.
"Okay," I raised my eyebrows, looking quite impressed, "There are a lot of nobles."
My eyes widened as I perused some names. "Holy Incarni! Five of them are from Axial Families."
"Wonder what trouble they caused."
"They are quite powerful," Iris remarked, leaning against me to read the list. Her cold breath brushed against my skin and my heart fluttered.
Focus, Mordred.
"I didn't see the last few names when I checked before," she muttered, and her eyes wandered to the end of the list.
"What the? No way," Iris froze and breathed out.
I followed her gaze and read the last names and a cold lump dropped into my stomach.
Artemis Fray
Apollo Fray
"Fray," Iris read aloud, concern evident in her expression. "Damien?"
I gave her a solemn nod, "I was afraid this day would come."
The memories of that dreadful day resurfaced in my mind.
"His siblings, right?" Iris inquired in a soft voice.
I nodded, "I made a promise to look after them."
"We made a promise," she insisted. "Do not bear it all on yourself."
I nodded and suppressed the surfacing memories. Now is not the time.
Taking a deep breath, I attempted to smile. "Shall we welcome the new meatsuits?"
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
just_a_fox
just_a_fox I don't like where this is going. What the heck happened to Damien?
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone