Smoke rose, forming dark clouds that covered the scant light exuded by the demonic stars. She, female model of the fourth gestation batch, serial number two, assigned function: RG (Ranger); sequential identifier: F-IV-2, observed in silence.
She fixed her gaze on the factory: the great machinery where she and her kind were created by direct mandate of the highest authority, the "Fabricator".
F-IV-2 deeply inhaled the black air, imbued with traces of pure magic. Her batch —from the fourth to the eighth— had been assigned together with her original gestation batch after the Fabricator "Updated" the components of: "The Root" and "The Source" in their internal systems before this mission.
Her mission: To be the beta reconnaissance group.
Her specific function was to detect and analyze enemy forces, cataloged in her memory archive as the "servants of the Prince of Excesses". In parallel, the gamma group —formed from the ninth to the fifteenth batches— had the responsibility of modifying the terrain through magical directives named in her memory as "Alchemy".
For their part, the alpha reconnaissance group was composed of the functional remnants of the third gestation batch, along with the most recent units: from the sixteenth to the twentieth.
Each group was accompanied by a "Supervisor", a minor fragment of the Fabricator, in charge of executing the supreme directive of guiding each phase of the process.
The Fabricator assembles.
The Fabricator repairs.
The Fabricator protects.
The Fabricator awaits usefulness.
We are all cogs of the Factory.
…
F-IV-2 observed from afar alongside the beta team how the "servants of the Prince of Excesses" interacted. She could only define it with the words "Chaos", "Disorder", "Inefficient".
The servants swarmed, placing their upper and lower limbs in ways they were not designed for; fluids for which she had no words to relate were exchanged among them.
She recorded how such creatures hurt each other with distorted expressions, how they fought among themselves to see who had the greatest expression of "Ecstasy".
"Disgusting," she thought of the biological risks the alpha team would have to face if things got out of control.
She looked impassively at the supervisor, awaiting a signal from the gamma or alpha groups.
But meanwhile, most of us were performing guard duties while some production cogs were in charge of creating the war machinery that could not be brought.
Truly efficient: real-time production of machinery to save mobility costs.
There she was, standing guard alongside her assigned gestation batch, watching how the demons continued in their "profane pleasure" — that is, until a ping appeared in her Primary Cognitive Directive.
Orders had been given.
F-IV-2 would fulfill her assigned role.
With the maximum efficiency allowed by their bodies, the beta group mobilized, their synchronicity only limited by the material laws of the world.
She watched as the alpha group made its presence known, gigantic walls were formed in mechanical patterns, enemy forces were separated under the grand directives designed by the Fabricator.
But the demons were pure chaos, without order in their combat; uncoordinated forces but too strong to be defeated individually.
She raised her cutting weapon, overloading it with pure magic through the "Root" component. Her peers followed her without temporal discrepancies beyond a few micro-tenths of a second.
The air vibrated under the energy of their weapons, but they were not the only ones with the directive to attack — the demons attacked too;
Curved forms, linear attacks far too impossible to be performed by the deformed bodies F-IV-2 saw. The clash between their weapons resulted in them being eventually overwhelmed.
But that didn't matter — the beta group were only secondary scouts, not the main group nor the true weapons.
She moved her energized sword, cutting down the unsuspecting demon. Before even continuing, she drew her long-range weapon, a couple of shots fired at the largest demon that had hidden beneath the bodies of the fallen, waiting for an opportunity to attack. But the demon did not die from the shot — instead, the cut of one of its kind ended the inefficient creature that dared challenge the "Factory".
The rest of the groups made their presence known on the battlefield. Two supervisors were advancing, each taking care of the most problematic demons. The synchronicity with which the entire group moved was as expected. They moved in a crescent formation when the third supervisor charged the rail cannons.
We all began following the protocol, a combined spell began forming around us;
cogs of a greater machine, orders were followed, a layer of white energy covered our army.
Microseconds later, a bright light flooded the entire battlefield.
When my eyes adjusted to the sudden light, I was able to observe the result of this small skirmish. Nothing within the ballistic range survived — there was now only a smoking crater.
But the situation began to present anomalies — though of course, within the established protocols. A pink energy pulsed from the crater, as if it were about to rise again — but not according to protocol, it only uttered barely understandable words under those guttural sounds.
"Insolent mortals, how dare you disturb the grand orgy held by the hands of the great demon Zarakynel, giver of torments in the name of the god of perfection!!!" it shouted in an exhibitionist tone of multiple voices — the temporary combination of so much energy, as reported by the supervisor.
F-IV-2 sighed to herself — how inefficient these creatures were; according to reports from previous missions, they acted this way every time they were defeated — only this time they did not return directly to the fight as expected.
Before the voice could continue its senseless speech, another shot from the rail cannon made its presence known.
The remains of the three groups —alpha, beta, gamma— were in their same positions, the protocol was still in place.
The production golems made their presence known among the homunculi ranks, organizing themselves in a clear pattern: tetragram upon tetragram, ritual magic created by a superior designer.
The energy of the golems began to fluctuate, combining with each other until the three supervisors appeared — their energy overlapping that of the other golems.
Then the spell manifested, the pink energy that sought to pulse and infect Us screamed — it was contained and assembled into a form that could be studied, used, and recycled for a greater purpose.
A black gem the size of one of our vehicles imprisoned the swirling energy — it screamed, whispered with thousands of voices in discordant tones — until it was silenced by the weave of runes the supervisors began to inscribe.
Thus, the assigned task was completed.