Chapter Eleven

In the cold fluorescent glow of his underground workshop, Kyle was busy forging a weapon to slay god. In the hours since his daughter's death, he had been brooding over how he could do it. Pounding the hot steel in front of him, he was unsure. All of his skills as a craftsman and engineer had been used to prepare him and his wife from the earthly threat his father's criminal organization posed. He had been busy hiding traps and defense systems around his property in the event of an attack.

He sighed and wiped the sweat from his brow, giving gaze to the wall on his left. A half-dozen unfinished weapons were hanging there: waiting to be finished. They had all been designed for fighting against mafia weaponry, but he never could finish the job. The weapons were excessive and deadly. He noticed the blade he had built: a rotating saw oriented as a sword meant to literally disarm attackers. What had I even been thinking with that one.

Below them, was the only one he had finished. It was a rifle he had built all by himself meant to fit custom rounds of a higher caliber. Intended for accuracy and to have enough force to tear through thick steel and put down the target for good. It was tame compared to the others, and he had felt good enough about it to finish: even going so far as to give it a mahogany stock. It had been dubbed, "The Last Whisper," and held a special place in his heart.

Even still, it probably can't help against these damned beasts.

The help he had gotten from Ametsu, the feather, had been useless. He could tell it came from one of the creatures since it was much too long for normal birds. However, Kyle didn't see how a feather could help him fight those creatures. He grimaced and picked his hammer back up, returning to his work.

Kyle worked in the heat of his forge for hours: the metallic clang of his hammer being his only company. In the heat of his work, the metal took shape. Plates of body armor and intricate parts of machinery were the products of his labors. Finally as his forge cooled, he had finished the pieces of his tool and began assembly.

***

Kyle stepped back and checked his watch. It had been 36 hours of work, but it was complete. He had made a suit to defend himself from the beasts. It was a hard steel alloy for durability and protection while containing features for offense. The gauntlets were thick, for close combat, each even containing a retracted blade in case the opponent wouldn't fall to punches. The joints were linked to powerful motors, able to increase his speed and agility. The only problem however…

Kyle slammed his fist down on the table, "What's the point if I don't have a power source!!"

Defeated, Kyle slumped to the ground. All this effort, and it fails from a critical oversight. How can I save my daughter with a useless pile of scrap. In his anger, he almost didn't notice the small humming sound. Investigating further, he found the source. The feather was vibrating on the table in the corner. Maybe, just maybe… he thought. Turning around, he brought the feather closer to the suit. Sure enough, it was reacting more strongly: as if it wanted in. Feeling like nothing worse than his previous failure could happen, he placed the feather against it. To his surprise, the feather melted into the metal. After a few seconds of silence, the machine whirred to life, power flowing through it. Feeling like he had a chance, Kyle smiled. Have faith wherever you are, Lucy. Dad's coming for ya.