"Aerial contact detected!"
"Sound the alarm!"
At once, the air-defense sirens screamed across Gavin Ward's outpost. The piercing wail cut through the camp like a blade. Soldiers rushed from their tents, snapping into action with the precision of drilled discipline. Boots pounded the earth, belts tightened, bolts snapped into place.
Twin 14.5mm anti-aircraft guns swiveled upward, their barrels glinting under the sun as crews hunched beside them, hands tight on the triggers. The entire camp's rhythm shifted in seconds—calm turned to battle-ready alert.
Inside the command post, Gavin stepped to the window, binoculars raised. His gaze cut across the sky. "What is happening?" he asked sharply.
"Target incoming… human-like?" an officer reported hesitantly.
In the distance, shapes floated against the clouds. At first glance, they resembled young girls—but their skins shimmered like steel. Their eyes were blank, void of thought, their lips repeating phrases like broken machines.
"They're half-orc girls, but altered," Gavin muttered, lowering his binoculars with narrowed eyes.
The crude boxes on their backs hummed, pipes feeding raw magical energy into their frail frames. The devices rattled as if seconds from collapse.
Boom!
One of the flying figures sparked violently. Flames burst from her apparatus, and she spiraled out of the sky like a broken kite. The crash rattled the ground as dust billowed.
"Malfunctions…!" a soldier shouted.
One after another, sparks erupted. Seven… eight of the steel-skinned girls lost control, their devices exploding into smoke before plummeting earthward. Black trails scarred the sky as their bodies slammed into the dirt.
"What in the devil's name is that?" an officer muttered, telescope pressed to his face.
"Suicide bombers?" another guessed.
"No," Gavin said calmly, though his gaze was sharp. "Not intentional. They're prototypes—still experimental. Crude and unstable."
The sight stirred memories from his past life—images of the First World War. He remembered stories of tanks lumbering onto the battlefield for the first time, half of them breaking down before they even reached the fight. These girls were no different—miracles of desperation, but riddled with flaws.
The remaining figures struggled to stabilize. One by one, their power boxes coughed smoke and failed. The last girl tried to gather her magic, body trembling, but her crude engine erupted. A plume of smoke shot out, and she plummeted helplessly like the rest.
The battlefield fell silent, save for the groan of metal cooling.
---
Surrounded
The crash sites lay encircled by Gavin's men. Ross soldiers formed a perimeter, rifles trained, boots crunching as they tightened their cordon.
Within the circle lay more than a dozen strange figures—half-orc girls, no older than fourteen or fifteen by appearance. Their bodies gleamed unnaturally, their skin replaced with plates of steel patched crudely like broken armor. The boxes on their backs wheezed faintly, steam leaking from fractured seams.
The girls lay motionless, staring with empty eyes that blinked but held no life.
"What are these things?" a soldier asked, voice hushed.
"They look like half-orcs to me," another replied, unsettled.
"Half-orcs don't fly," a third argued. "Maybe sky magicians?"
"Nonsense. What sky magician falls like a sack of stones?"
The men's voices carried curiosity tinged with unease. These weren't ordinary enemies—they resembled children, yet clearly weren't human anymore.
"His Majesty approaches!"
At once, the soldiers stiffened. Boots clicked together, rifles snapped upright. In unison they saluted, voices booming: "Your Majesty, long live!"
Gavin strode into the circle, flanked by his guards. His cloak stirred as his eyes fell upon the broken figures. He nodded briefly to his men, then focused entirely on the strange captives.
Rotis approached quickly, his voice hesitant. "Your Majesty… these… girls." He struggled for words, for what lay before them hardly resembled anything familiar.
Gavin crouched slightly, inspecting one closely. Their bodies bore seams where steel had been bolted crudely onto flesh. Their eyes glowed faintly, cold and empty, staring but not seeing.
"Secure them," Gavin ordered at last. "Disarm whatever devices are on their backs. Find out where these abominations came from."
"Yes, Majesty!"
A dozen soldiers moved forward cautiously.
But as one soldier reached out, a girl's arm shot up with unnatural speed. From her palm extended a blade of light—sharp, glowing, cutting the air.
The soldier stumbled back, eyes wide. Had she been taller, she would have struck him cleanly.
"Be careful!" the soldier shouted. "They can manifest magic blades!"
The warning spread instantly. The others raised rifles, hands tightening, though Gavin gestured them to hold fire.
He studied the girl as the blade retracted into her hand. She made no further move, only stared with that same hollow gaze. "So… their hands conceal magic weapons as well," Gavin murmured.
These creations fascinated him. Steel-textured skin, back-mounted power boxes, internal weaponry—they resembled memories of "ship girls" and "weapon girls" from stories of his former world, though here twisted by crude magic.
---
Lina's Recognition
"Master! Master!"
A voice cried out as Lina rushed forward, breath ragged, legs trembling from the run. She skidded to a halt at Gavin's side, supporting herself with her hands on her knees. Her face was flushed, her chest rising and falling quickly.
Her eyes lifted to the fallen girls—and widened in shock. "Master… I know them."
Gavin turned to her sharply. "You know these girls?"
Lina nodded, her small frame trembling. "One… one of them was from our tribe. Two, maybe three from others nearby. I've seen their faces before."
Rotis blinked. "They're truly half-orcs?"
"Yes," Lina whispered, voice heavy with grief. "They were taken. I thought they were lost… but it was the orcs. The orcs did this to them." Her eyes shone with unshed tears.
The truth struck like a blade. These were no magical monsters, no alien weapons. They were once children—stolen half-orc girls, mutilated into weapons.
Gavin's jaw tightened. He looked over the still forms again. "The orcs twisted them… their own kin… into this."
Lina's voice broke, choked with sorrow. "They were like me once. But I was taken by humans. They… they were taken by orcs. And now… look at them…"
The sight burned into Gavin's mind. Not just the cruelty of the Orc Empire, but the glimpse of possibility. The fusion of magic and technology. Even this crude, failing attempt hinted at a path forward.
He folded his arms, thoughts racing. If these half-orc girls can be made to fly, even with such primitive craft… then with proper knowledge, with real engineering and stable enchantments…
A vision formed in his mind. Single-soldier aircraft. Combat units combining steel and magic, stable and powerful.
These tragic weapons, born of cruelty, had inadvertently provided him inspiration. Where the Orc Empire had stumbled in darkness, Gavin Ward would walk in light—taking what they had perverted and transforming it into true progress for his people.
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