Chapitre 18: Log 018: Treaties of Men (II)
From the eyes of the men who never saw Somnus up close - or at all, for that matter - the "golem" looked like the crown of a mountain, ripped out of its socket and placed before them. Ominously, it stood under the afternoon sun, its irregular, radar-deflecting edges dull and non-reflective despite being metallic.
Like an altar dedicated to destruction, it was in the middle of the FOB. A kilometer stretched from it in all directions before the grassland met the obstacle of silvery-grey, circular walls. Hundreds of drones populated this space which was filled with grey buildings of which only a part was above ground. Unthinkable to the humans, the true heart of FOB Alpha was beneath the earth. The factories and refineries pumped smoke constantly out of large exhaust pipes.
No one knew what this castle was for; not even the sentient being within Somnus. It never asked, even though it eagerly waited for the Logistics report to break the monotony of its isolation. What did it matter, anyway? To the entity, Somnus was an absolute being. A god standing above the "Gods" of this world - if they even existed. The entity knew very well that only the most absurd kind of creature could stand up to Somnus. Whatever Somnus was building, was most likely unnecessary.
Only part of the FOB was actually paved. Over time, the Drones had constructed a concrete path for the humans to follow whenever they came to visit Somnus. It led from Somnus to the main gate, to the edge of the woodland far in the distance. Behind the FOB, mountain chains cradled the valley where the FOB was located in, making the north-eastern direction the only viable approach.
Heavy footsteps struck the concrete as the men dismounted.
"Whoa," one of them whispered, patting the horse on the neck. "Shhh. Good boy." He was with the Arsalans, no doubt a high ranking official of the kingdom. He was well-dressed, like everyone from the two kingdoms. Silk, leather, cloth and chainmail.
"Where is the... golem?" King Finian asked as a drone zoomed overhead, gaining altitude to avoid the obstruction.
The men watched the moth-shaped metallic creature, their eyes narrowed and eyebrows knit, as it landed on the roof of a nearby building.
Clearing his throat, a man with the King of Astoria said, "I believe this here is Somnus, your Majesty." The man gestured to the massive machine.
"Oh... I didn't... realize," The King of Arsalan said.
Of course he wouldn't. Even with its legs curled up, Somnus still towered at a height of 30 meters. To the humans, before they knew that the identity of that object was Somnus, the object was another building even though they stood in the shadow of the railgun. Their minds simply could not comprehend the image their eyes revealed. To a person of the third millennium, the CIWS, cannons, lights and railguns would all stand out. But these people still thought that within Somnus' hearts was not the fireball of nuclear fusion, but rather some sort of magical power source.
"You made pacts with demons," one of the men in the Arsalan entourage said. He stood tall and proud, a soldier through and through - a veteran judging by the scars on his face.
"You summoned Atmohim!" The voice belonged to Count Jean who fought on the side of Astoria at the battle of Solus hill. His banner was the black tower.
Heavy clouds passed in front of the sun. In the resulting dimness, the belligerent atmosphere was even more obvious.
[Weather: Rain in 7 hours, 32 minutes.]
Somnus, why do you think people fight wars?
[Archive match: Prosperity.]
Prosperity? I didn't expect that.
[Politics: Prosperity of the people.]
[Psychology: Prosperity of the self.]
[Philosophy: Designation "Somnus" is the pinnacle of humanity's search for Prosperity.]
That sure worked out well, didn't it?
[Negative. Humanity and all other non-intelligent entities reach beyond their specifications.]
Non-intelligent, huh?
[Affirmative.]
"Enough," the king of Astoria said, raising a hand and glaring at his entourage. "We've come here to discuss diplomacy. Let us remain civil."
Reluctantly, everyone nodded.
"This here is Count Jean, my chancellor. He is in charge of the economic affairs of Astoria," the king said, nodding to the blond-haired youth. "Next to him is Lord Commander Matthew."
King Finian sighed and said, "Is this really necessary? We already know each other." His tone was flat. "Just tell us what you want."
King Leonard stared at Finian. He cleared his throat, closed his eyes and said, "We want the County of Blackplain to rejoin Astoria, as well as the Duchy of Pangast."
"Out of the question. A whole Duchy?" King Finian shook his head. "No."
"Your army is defeated! You have no choice but to accept," Count Jean spat the words out, expression grim.
"The Empire will intervene if our war continues," King Finian said with a shrug. "Do you want that?"
"We have Somnus," Lord Commander Matthew said, despite the King's attempts to silence his entourage with hand-gestures.
"Yes," King Finian said, glancing to the machine. "You do. So what? The Empire will crush it. The Empire will crush you, and that golem. There will be nothing left of you."
King Leonard narrowed his eyes into thin slits.
"You think because your pet defeated Atmohim that you have the upper hand? Atmohim was a joke! Nothing! They gave Atmohim to us practically for free!" King Finian said, words laced with venom, "You and your kingdom are an eyesore. If it wasn't for the Triarchy, you'd be long gone."
The FOB was silent save for the buzzing of the drones.
"I will give you Blackplains," King Finian said and his entourage nodded in agreement with those words, except for one black-haired person. He resembled Count Jean.
An ember of anger glimmered in King Leonard's eye, and he looked to Somnus. "What do you think, Lord Somnus?"
The reply came instantaneously.
[CIWS armed.]
A torrent of bullets fell on the Arsalan entourage, bouncing off the concrete as they devoured the flesh of man and horse alike. The roar of the CIWS turrets silenced the screams of men and horses. A dumbfounded silence befell the Astorian entourage. The drones did not care, they did not pause in their tasks for even a moment.
[CIWS: Ammo remaining: 97%]
Hundreds of tracers glimmered in the sky like stars before they burned out.
A dozen Arsalan corpses lay on the ground, grotesque and full of bullet holes.
"What have you done?" the king asked, wide eyed. "We were going to... sign a peace treaty..."
"Treaties of men do not concern designation "Somnus". No retreat. No surrender. No peace," the machine's voice rumbled louder than the CIWS turrets, causing the Astorian entourage to fall to their knees, covering their ears.
The machine stood on its eight legs, looming over the men from Astoria. Outside the FOB, the Arsalan soldiers were frozen with fear. Their king had just died, and there was nothing they could have done.
"Entity: Astoria will continue fighting Entity: Arsalan. Comply."
The king swallowed, his head bending all the way back as he looked towards the top of the machine. "Why?" he asked.
"Purpose: Annihilation."
The king gritted his teeth, looked at the bloody corpses of the Arsalan king and his court officials, and then nodded. "As you wish, Lord Somnus."
The humans at the FOB dispersed over time. The Arsalan soldiers carried away the corpses of their king and his men. They left the horses for the drones.
As the sun was setting over the horizon, the pale-faced king looked back to Somnus from the treeline. Even though kilometers separated them, Somnus could easily see the terror in the king's eyes.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone