Oasis of Ending

Kaine's chainsaw draconic wings tore through the final ice barrier as a frigid gust reeking of blood flooded in. Alys' pupils crystallized in the cold, her vision piercing the glacier's depths to the hovering Prime Womb—a three-kilometer-wide flesh-toned sphere, vascular neural pipes pumping viridian energy into thousands of embryonic sacs. Every infant floating inside bore her own Godslayer code etched onto their napes.

"So we're all assembly-line components." Alys' frostrose vines pierced the nearest sac. The symbiotic roots spasmed as a five-month-old embryo opened mechanized eyes, reflecting her fractured visage: "Mother, you're twenty-three years late."

The Inquisitor's Divine Mech crushed ice under steel boots, his voice booming from the chest cavity: "Godslayer Unit 01, desist from sacrilege!" The chainsaw greatsword descended—Kaine's silver sand shield intercepted in a shower of sparks. Methane ice ignited, the blast hurling Alys against the Prime Womb's neural pipes. Viridian energy surged through her vines, spiderwebbing her crystalline heart.

The embryos wailed in unison. Their cries refracting into Church indoctrination frequencies, Alys' seven-year-old memories struck like vipers: surgical lights blinding her as Ilana's mechanical fingers implanted nanites into her medulla. "Suppress tears," a plague-masked technician droned, "this is the price of becoming the perfect weapon."

Kaine's roar shattered the hallucination. His silver sand arm devoured half the mech, crimson tumors metastasizing at the stump. When his chainsaw speared the Inquisitor's cockpit, splattered blood froze midair into scripture. "What have you made of life?!" He yanked out the Inquisitor's half-mechanical body, silver sand invading through spinal chip ports.

The Prime Womb convulsed. A five-year-old Alys clone tumbled from a ruptured sac, micro-chainsaw sprouting from her spine. "Defective models must be purged." Her viridian eyes locked onto the original.

Starlight streamed through collapsing ice ceilings. Watching her clone lunge, Alys remembered Cinder's dying words: "Find the White Chamber beneath Polaris Lab..." She feigned vulnerability, letting the clone's saw impale her shoulder—vines plunging into its neck.

Genetic data deluged her mind. The clone's memories revealed the White Chamber: Cinder entombed in liquid nitrogen, carving anti-code into the tank. As guards stormed in, he ripped off his mechanical arm, jamming its chip into the console: "Alys, this is my last..."

Reality snapped back with Kaine's scream—three mechs pinned him against ice, silver armor flayed to bone. The Prime Womb's neural pipes coiled around Alys, dragging her toward the obsidian core—the First Godslayer's consciousness node engraved with a 30,000-year-old star map.

"Release her!" Kaine's tumors detonated, silver sand morphing into a chainsaw storm. Embryos burst simultaneously, amniotic fluid and blood rivers flooding the ice. Alys' vines speared the obsidian core, activating Cinder's dormant virus.

The star map inverted. Glaciers quaked as the Prime Womb fissured. Each embryo's umbilical cord linked to coordinates now being overwritten. When the final scripture crumbled, Cinder's ghost whispered: "Let Godslayers become the new civilization's cradle."

Kaine's sand cocooned them, leaping into the quantum rift torn by the star map. Weightless, Alys saw embryo remnants reconfigure in the void—evolving into mechano-organic lifeforms, their eyes blazing with starlight untouched by the Church.