Deyros squinted at the sunlight when they once again returned to the surface. He still hadn’t decided if the Avalonians were saints, liars, or simply mad. Maybe all three put together... but, he couldn't deny that hope was now burning in him, and he didn't want it to be... a disappointnt. Behind him, dozens upon dozens of survivors had followed the strangers up from the tunnels, blinking and squinting just the sa way, thinking of the sa thing. So heard the trio's tale... and many didn't believe it. But... Those flying monsters? Maybe they were indeed the proof... This ti around, though, not only did the warriors co to the surface, but everyone did. From the different holes, people erged like ants, coming to the surface as word spread like wildfire: their saviors had arrived. Are the promises from decades ago finally being honored? They would have never guessed it.
“You want us… all of us… to stand in the square?” Deyros asked slowly, suddenly afraid this was a trap. A monster's illusion spell, charming them all... “Out in the open? Where beasts could swoop down on us and where they could kill us all...?”
“More like... Up on the walls, so co on! Trust ,” Arthur said, his voice carrying the absolute confidence of soone who had never once broken a promise. “You’ll want to see this.”
“Especially the kids,” Leyla added with a grin, “This is going to be their favorite story to tell when they’re old.”
"Trust us..." Lancelot clapped Deyros on the shoulder, squeezing it, “We’ll keep you safe. Just watch and enjoy the show.”
Deyros muttered sothing that might have been a prayer or a curse that he was going along with it, but then barked an order for his people to spread out and go up to the walls, facing westward. Looking at each other, they obeyed reluctantly, crowding together in big clumps, gripping either each other or their weapons as they weren't sure this was a good idea. A few minutes later, everyone was there, revealing how few of the original population had actually survived until now.
At first, there was nothing... just the sky with multiple white clouds drifting above them... but then the first shadow fell on the group, and it kept growing, growing, and growing.
Of course, it was the Calot, arriving as the leading figure.
It descended into view like a mountain being dropped on the city, causing multiple people to crouch and try to hide as the giant fra of the airship stopped overhead of the city. The smooth, silvery hull alone blocked out half the sun, casting Horringar's inner city in sothing akin to twilight... It was no surprise to hear the hundreds of gasps that spread through the crowd. A few people dropped to their knees, feeling their legs give out, and one woman scread and clutched her chest, calling out to stop it before it crushed them.
Before Deyros could ask anything, behind the Calot soon ca four more ships as the Stormbringer, Punisher, Eagle’s Nest, and the Knight’s Errand all drifted into position. They followed in perfect echelon, almost as if they were on a parade... Well... in a way, this ti, it was indeed that. Together, the five ships filled the air above the survivors, and to break the weird silence, the Calot sounded its warhorns, letting them blare loudly and proudly.
Deyros could not speak. His mouth opened and closed without a breath escaping it; his hand was white-knuckled on the wall, holding onto the stone to keep himself standing.
“That is the shock part,” Arthur said with a smug smile, folding his arms.
“Let it turn into awe,” Leyla added, unable to hide her laughter.
Soon, there was another horn blaring in the distance. When everyone looked, they could see figures closing in on the city.
They couldn't be humans... yet their shapes looked like them. Like... knights in massive armors. So were about to cry about monsters, but Arthur spoke before they could.
"Don't worry, they are our machines."
"Machines?" Deyros asked, unable to look away.
"Yeah. We built them to fight monsters, the big ones. You need proper power to hunt them... So, our Knights ride massive machines and not horses."
"Machines..." He whispered, and not long after, the figures of the more than thirty marching chs ca into clear view.
They stopped a few dozen ters from the first wall, and as they stood in rows, their hulking silhouettes against the land were awe-inspiring. So carried weapons, the length of ships’ masts in the eyes of the survivors, while others held shields big enough to wall an entire house. What was more surprising was that they were all differently shaped, thanks to their armor platings, which were painted in all kinds of colors, making all the machines look unique and feel like they were their own individual.
Most of the survivors had nothing to say by then. Not even cries or pleas or a whimper of panic left their throats. They only stood in stunned silence, sotis looking up at the ships or down at the chs... It was... numbing.
"Are those..." Deyros’s voice cracked when he tried to speak, “Golems…?” he whispered. “Statues of the gods…?”
“They’re just machines,” Lancelot said casually, waving his question away, “They aren't related to any of the Gods. Our Father designed them, and it is piloted by people. They are human-made, human-driven... no godly involvent at all!"
Then, as they thought it was over... it was just starting.
The next rumble was mistaken for thunder, but it grew louder and harsher. Then, planes flew over the city in formation, making multiple turns before heading out towards the north, east, and south.
"Are those...?" Deyros murmured, looking at Arthur.
"Machines. Yes. Pure, human-made invention. They are our best scouts, and now they are flying out to scan the surroundings. Our arrival may have stirred any of the remaining beasts lying low nearby, so we are preparing to exterminate them. Don't worry, they can't get into the city."
"I wouldn't have believed you ten minutes ago..." He chuckled, for the first ti in years...
Of course, the show wasn't over yet, as the half-trucks had arrived, allowing the Avalonian troops to dismount and head towards the city and walls. They were there to sweep the outer periter, ensuring it was clean, and take up positions on the ruined first wall. If they need to defend the city, they would do it from there, occupying the abandoned ring first and foremost.
“What are those?” Deyros asked, unable to take his eyes off the arriving convoy.
“Easier transportation,” Leyla said lightly, hands behind her back. “They are quicker and more mobile than horse-drawn carriages, although they are still new and not widespread enough for the entire army to use.”
"The... army? Isn't this...?"
"This is just the spearhead of the main force, our Avalonian troops. We are always the first in line, the rest... are a bit slower. You'll see." Leyla explained with a proud smile.
Sure enough, a mont later, columns of soldiers appeared in the distance, marching, no, flowing like a wave of people. The survivors had never seen such a spectacle, as before they could comprehend, troops and cavalry sward the land from here to the horizon... They could not see where it ended... maybe it was infinite. There were thousands upon thousands, and by the flying banners from different regions and countries, so that Deyros couldn't recognize. It was as if the entire world had unified and co to save them.
"I can't believe it..." He said, not even realizing that tears were rolling down his cheeks, "You actually ca... Am I... hallucinating?"
"Heh!" Lancelot laughed, shaking his head, "Not at all. We told you... We are here to clean out the monsters!"
“For more than a decade now,” he choked on his emotions, his voice barely audible over the tramp of boots, the shouting, the roar of engines, the noise of actual civilization, “I told them no help would co. That we had only ourselves because the world was swallowed up by the beasts... That the Gods had abandoned us and we were the last survivors...” His eyes shone with tears. “I don't know why I didn't give up, though... Or why any of us clung to our lives... Heh... How weird... but now, I am happy... Happy that we held out until this day.”
"We are happy too," Arthur leaned closer, his voice gentle, his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it firmly. “It is always good to find survivors where we hoped for none. You can relax and leave everything else to us.”
"Yeah, I will." Deyros turned to him, almost pleadingly, “If there is anything..."
"There is nothing." Arthur cut him off, "You don't need to do or offer anything. Understood?"
"..." Slowly, he nodded, wiping his eyes, "How many nations stand with you? How long… how long have you prepared for this war?”
"A lot of nations and a long preparation. This includes Markoth, too, as they beca our vassals. Of course, you won't find your kin here. They still need to rebuild for the years to co, so we didn't bring any of them with us. But they are strong and now stand back ho, guarding our rear." Arthur smiled faintly as he explained. “Any of you who want to et them will have the chance to board one of our ships, and we will fly you to them.”
"I think..." He muttered, looking at his people, "So will take you up on that offer..."
He watched as many of the survivors pressed their foreheads against the stone wall, crying and mumbling sothing under their breath. There were others who reached out with trembling hands toward the ships now, lost in their own thoughts, while a few laughed hysterically, unable to cope with the sight of power pressing down on them, being so... absolute.
The most different group was the children, those who were born into this life. They stood wide-eyed, mostly unafraid; instead of cowering, they were pointing and whispering to one another or asking questions to the Avalonian soldiers. For them, awe quickly gave way to pure excitent. The sky was full of flying fortresses, the ground was shaking from the number of boots marching... For the first ti in their brief lives, they saw... actual wonders. They were seeing their parents' dreams co true.
"..." Silently, Deyros looked back out over the scene of the army coming to surround the city, then finally back at the siblings. “If this is your ‘shock and awe,’ and there are no more surprises, then you have succeeded."
"Told you..." Lancelot joked, giggling to himself, "Even I feel fired up once again."
"Lancy! Are you okay?!" A deep, inhuman voice cracked like thunder all of a sudden, making Lancelot flinch.
"..."
"..."
"What was that?" Deyros asked, gulping and the initial scare leaving his body, "One of the machines... is it... waving?"
"That would be my... future wife," Lancelot mumbled, his head turning scarlet.
"Wife...?" Deyros reeled back a little, while Arthur and Leyla were looking away, their shoulders trembling, holding back their laughs, exchanging thoughts way quicker than human speech would allow it.
"The voice is distorted, because she is piloting the machine," Lancelot grumbled, taking out his communicator and tuning it to Jila's frequency. "Stop yelling... I'm fine..."
"Oh, good, good!" Her normal voice ca through the handheld radio, "I saw you, I just wanted to make sure."
"You saw smiling and called out like this...?" He asked, holding back a sigh. "May I ask... why?"
"Well, yeah! What if you get a second wife before marrying ? That would screw with everything... Anyway... There are no barbarian girls you saved and are now bringing ho, are there? Mama Louise warned about it..."
At that, Arthur and Leyla could no longer hold it back and just let it all go, laughing, leaning over the walls, making Lancelot stand there with twitching eyebrows and a vein bulging on his neck.
"Grandmother is still a nace..." He grumbled, closing his eyes, taking deep breaths, "Why doesn't he pester Galahad...? Why ?"
"Probably because," Arthur said, wheezing, "Because you are older!"
"What does that say about you two?!" Lancelot snorted, forgetting where they were, arguing with his siblings, making Deyros just look at them, silent and... lost.
He was lost in his mories... of days, when sothing like this was natural. When he had brothers... parents. Friends... When they shared similar monts with each other. But then they slowly, one by one, all died. Be it the monsters, the weather, starvation, or sickness... all of those fond mories and the people in them had been buried. In all senses of the word...
Yet, for the first ti in decades... he found himself smiling.
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