The wind over Scrapveil carried the scent of rain and iron.For the first time in years, the town was quiet—too quiet.
The battle against the corrupted Warden had ended two days ago, but its echoes still haunted the streets. Charred metal, cracked stone, and the faint hum of lingering ether—reminders of the night the world almost ended.
Rayan sat beside Rustfang's resting frame on the cliff above the town. The mech's armor, once glowing crimson, was now dim and fractured. Smoke rose from vents along its spine, curling into the dawn air.
"You know," Rayan muttered, tossing a rock into the valley below, "for something that saved the world, you snore pretty loud."
Rustfang's single eye flickered faintly.
"Snoring: negative. System recovery: 41%."
"Translation," Rayan sighed, "you're still half-dead."
A soft laugh came from behind him.Lyra Vale approached, her jacket tied around her waist, hair messy from sleepless nights.
"He's lucky to even be functioning," she said, tapping the mech's damaged armor. "Half of his neural conduits are fried. You shouldn't have been able to sync that deep without dying."
Rayan gave a lazy grin.
"Guess I'm special."
"Or stupid," she countered, sitting beside him. "Probably both."
They watched the sunrise in silence for a while—two small figures beneath the shadow of a sleeping giant.
Finally, Lyra broke the quiet.
"The readings from the black core you found inside the Warden—there's something strange about them."
"Strange how?"
"It's not just corrupted Pulse energy. It's… connected. Like it's part of something much larger."
Rayan frowned. "Like what?"
Lyra hesitated.
"A network. The energy's moving—slowly, but it's spreading. Whatever attacked us… it wasn't alone."
Rustfang's voice rumbled through the air.
"Statement confirmed. Global resonance detected. The Pulse stirs once more."
Rayan turned to him.
"You mean the same Pulse that powers you?"
"Affirmative. But the flow is unstable. As if… the world remembers something it was forced to forget."
Lyra checked her wrist scanner; its surface glowed with faint blue light.
"If that's true, then every relic across Ardentia could start waking up again."
Rayan rubbed his temples.
"Great. So, world-ending apocalypse, part two?"
Lyra smirked.
"Not if we find where it started. The signal's coming from the west—beyond the Iron Frontier."
He looked up, following her gaze toward the distant horizon. The mountains there glowed faintly beneath the morning sun—silent, ancient, waiting.
Rustfang's core pulsed once, as if answering the call.
"The forges call to us," the mech said."Vall Oras—the cradle of souls. My origin… and my end."
Rayan exhaled slowly.
"Then that's where we go."
Lyra blinked.
"You're serious? That place is suicide. No one who's gone beyond the Frontier has ever come back."
"No one had a giant rusted god on their side," he said with a grin.
Rustfang's voice vibrated through the ground.
"Pilot determination: illogical. But… admirable."
Lyra crossed her arms, pretending to think.
"Fine. But if we die, I'm haunting you."
"Deal."
The morning wind howled across the junkyard as Rustfang rose to his full height, metal plates shifting and locking into place. Steam hissed through his joints, and the crimson light of his eye burned bright once again.
Below them, the people of Scrapveil gathered, watching in silent awe. For the first time, they didn't see junk or ruin—they saw hope.
Rayan climbed into the cockpit, the neural rings lighting up around him. Lyra took her position on Rustfang's shoulder, scanning the horizon.
"Destination set," she said. "Vall Oras—if the legends are true, we'll find the source of the Pulse there."
"And maybe some answers," Rayan murmured.
Rustfang's engines flared.
"Then let us awaken what sleeps beneath the iron sky."
With a thunderous step, the relic moved forward, each footfall echoing like a heartbeat through the valley.
As Scrapveil faded behind them, Rayan felt the Pulse again—alive, restless, whispering in the corners of his mind.
Something was waiting for them out there.And for the first time, he was ready to meet it.