DAUGHTER’S BETRAYAL & THE BROTHER’S OFFER

A hush blanketed the festival square, as though someone had dropped a thick velvet curtain over every voice and instrument. Even the caged trumpets stopped their discordant tune mid-blare. All eyes fixed on Roy, who stood with his sidearm level at Baron Egvald's forehead. The child slave, trembling at Roy's feet, dared to lift her gaze, as if she couldn't believe someone was finally taking her side.

Egvald's face twisted in panic. The arrogant sneer he'd worn moments before melted into genuine fear. "Wh-What do you want me to say?" he rasped, trying to regain composure. "I meant no offense, friend. You mis—"

"Don't." Roy's voice shook with anger. His muscles burned from the tension in his arm. He'd never faced a human target like this, not with lethal intent. "You're treating people like livestock. You think—" he broke off, fighting to steady his breathing. "You think I'd want to do that to a child?"

Egvald took a halting step back, lowering his hands slowly, as though appeasing a mad animal. "I—I assumed… you want slaves, that you want your pick, that's all I—"

"Enough!" Roy's shout rang across the plaza. Nearby, a line of guards stiffened, inching closer with swords half-drawn. The moment they moved, Teddy and Lincoln advanced, blocking their path in an unmistakable warning, the blue glimmer of their eyes fading to a hollow black.

Roy glimpsed the girl on the ground, her shoulder swollen, blood caking her temple. Rage and pity tangled inside him. "I'm done talking."

In a flash, the baron's men lunged. One guard took a bold step, brandishing a halberd. Roy, spooked, jerked the gun's barrel away from Egvald and fired a shot into a nearby wall. The report crashed like thunder, far louder than any crossbow these people had ever known. Bits of stone exploded, leaving a smoking hole. The guard staggered to a stop, eyes round with horror.

Silence reclaimed the square, thicker than before. Egvald's breath came in short gasps. He licked his lips nervously, then tried to muster a haughty sneer. "You— you think this little trick of yours can frighten me? This is my city, these are my men, I—"

"I told you," Roy cut him off. "Explain how you can stand there and treat human beings as objects. Filthy mongrels?" The gun trembled in Roy's grip. He'd never felt so close to losing control.

Egvald's lips peeled back in a sneer of his own. "They are filthy. Dregs. They exist to serve those above them. If you had any sense, you'd realize they're beneath us— worthless."

Roy's heart beat pounded in his ears. Adrenaline whipped through him, messing with his vision. He exhaled, eyes narrowing. "You bastard." Another shot cracked through the air, whizzing by Egvald's cheek so close that it tore the collar of his cloak. A thin line of blood beaded on his face. Roy's own lungs seized with shock at how near he'd come to blowing the baron's head off.

The baron let out a strangled yelp, clutching his cheek. "Y-You!" he shouted, half in pain, half in disbelief. "I… I'll—"

But then the crowd saw Roy's hand shaking, saw the raw, unbridled fury in his eyes. Egvald froze. The city guards, who'd started to rally, recoiled again, uncertain how to handle a weapon that belched thunder and tore through walls like a siege catapult condensed into a single handheld device.

Suddenly, from the city walls came a loud clang of gates. Over Roy's earpiece, Serenity's voice crackled, "Captain, I'm detecting mass movement from the garrisons. Dispatching reinforcements immediately."

In less than twenty seconds, a loud clank reverberated through the city walls. Several of Egvald's soldiers whipped around in alarm, scanning the battlements. To their collective horror, they spotted more of Roy's iron "golems", additional Presidroids, scaling the stone ramparts like monstrous spiders. The hiss of metal joints gave way to a frantic scrabbling sound, jarring in the eerie hush that Roy's gunshot had left behind.

Those unfortunate guards perched atop the walls shrank back. One tried to stab at a Presidroid with a long pike, but the machine batted it aside with effortless precision. The force of that single parry sent the guard stumbling onto his backside. The Presidroid stood over him and raised a foot. Unlike every time before, the Presidroid showed no mercy and stomped down with ruthless intent. Roy only heard a scream and then silence.

Serenity quickly chimed in through Roy's earpiece. "Roy, calm down, the Presidroids seem to be responding to your will." Roy heard nothing, his eyes were locked to Egvald's grotesque face.

Torchlight flickered wildly, casting horrific shadows along the walls. Then, with swift, mechanical gestures, the Presidroids snuffed out the torches one by one, ripping them from their brackets and stamping them beneath metal feet.

From below, the townspeople watched in alarmed fascination as the upper tiers of the city started to go dark, segment by segment. Here and there, faint blue glows appeared, Presidroid eyes shining like baleful, shining sapphires in the newly smothered gloom. Those who glimpsed it whispered in awe and terror, some sinking to their knees, convinced these must be demons or unstoppable "iron spirits."

A young woman carrying laundry screamed when a Presidroid jumped down from a ledge, landing near her with a muted thud. She tripped over her own feet, tumbling forward. In a move no knight could have managed, the metal figure lunged smoothly and caught her around the waist before she hit the ground. It then set her on her feet with uncanny gentleness, tilting its head in what might have been curiosity—or compassion. Confused, the woman backed away, eyes huge, uncertain whether to thank or flee from the thing.

Each new mechanical silhouette ghosted out of the darkness, methodical yet deliberate in avoiding harm to civilians. Those too petrified to move were gingerly guided aside, or if they fainted, a Presidroid scooped them up and carried them clear of danger. Children clung to one another, hearts pounding, as silent iron titans stepped past without so much as brushing them. Torch after torch was extinguished—some by well-aimed blasts of compressed air, others by a single crushing grip—leaving the city's alleyways to smolder in half-light.

By the time Truman batted away the central fire lighting the plaza, the effect was nearly complete. The city's once-vibrant night festival had become a patchwork of flickering gloom, with only scattered lanterns or brazier fires still guttering. People cowered in doorways, craning their necks to see the glowing eyes patrolling the walls, the squares, the rooftops. Whispers flew—demons, devils, unstoppable iron beasts—yet it was clear they inflicted violence only on those who posed a direct threat.

Once the main threats were dealt with, the Presidroids started approaching slaves and snapping their collars, freeing them. This surreal combination of menace and mercy set the entire city on edge. In the black haze where the torches had been, the baron's remaining men quivered, outmatched, while the freed slaves gazed in a mix of wonder and hope.

As Roy continued his confrontation in the square, the Presidroids' slow, systematic subjugation of Egvald's fortress and the rescue of innocents made it clear that the entire city had fallen under an eerie, mechanical rule.

Roy advanced towards the cowering Egvald, the now unwavering barrel of his gun a chilling reminder of imminent death. Egvald's once-arrogant gaze frantically searched the unyielding faces of the Presidroids, his bravado replaced by raw terror. His trembling hands rose in supplication, his voice cracking with desperation. "F-Forgive me! Iron… God, spare me!" he rasped. "I will change, I'm sorry."

Roy swallowed hard, feeling sick at how fast Egvald had gone from pompous tyrant to groveling coward. He took another step forward. "I'm a god of no one," he hissed, voice steady, "but at this moment… I'm your god."

He slammed his free hand across Egvald's jaw, enough to send the baron staggering. Roy's knuckles screamed in pain; unaccustomed to punching people. Rage quickly dulled it and he threw three more strikes in quick succession. The realization he was crossing a line he can't come back from slowed him.

Egvald crumpled to his knees, one hand clutching his bloody cheek. "P-Please… please don't kill me," he whimpered, tears shining in his eyes. "I beg you, have mercy."

Anger now reignited by the baron's pleas caused Roy to strike again, a backhand across the temple. The baron fell back, groaning. Roy's vision blurred with fury and adrenaline and he swung again at full force only for Lincoln to gently catch Roy's wrist mid-swing.

"Captain," Lincoln said calmly in a modulated voice, "you hurt your hand… Let us have a turn."

Roy's chest heaved. He glanced down at his raw, bleeding knuckles. Indeed, he'd busted them open on Egvald's skull. A tremor rattled his arm; he was losing himself. He grimaced and stepped back. "Fine," he managed in a ragged breath.

Lincoln and Teddy seized the baron, who tried to crawl away. In the hush of the square, a voice from a distant watchtower suddenly chanted, "Scorching lance!" Roy's eyes flicked upward in time to see a flicker of fire materialize in the watchtower. A robed figure, Galvyn, the mage Roy had encountered earlier, hurled a searing bolt of flame.

Truman lurched in front of Roy and deflected it with a single metallic forearm raised overhead, the fireball scattering in harmless sparks. Without missing a beat, Truman picked up a loose stone below him and hurled it with superhuman speed. The projectile smashed into the tower's parapet, breaking through and impacting the knee of the mage. The crack was audible even from Roy's position hundreds of feet away.

Galvyn stumbled over the parapet and fell down the town's wall. Roy heard a pained yelp echo down the stone walls as the mage fell, and then, silence.

Satisfied that the magical threat was temporarily neutralized, Roy turned back in time to see Lincoln and Teddy pinning Egvald to the ground. The baron coughed and sputtered, blood trickling from his mouth. The crowd pressed back in terror, forming a wide circle. Town guards lay down their weapons, unwilling to face these unstoppable "golems."

Roy's heart still thundered, but now a grim clarity settled. He had, with minimal effort, toppled the city's power structure. Yet the violence of it weighed on him more heavily than any monster hunt he'd done. He forced a deep breath.

Out of nowhere, a shrill voice cried, "Stop! He abused me too—help me, I beg you!"

Roy turned, seeing Celyse run toward him, tears streaking her cheeks. She looked the perfect picture of a wounded victim, hair disheveled and face contorted in sorrow. She collapsed to her knees in front of Roy, clutching at the air. "Please… you've no idea how he's treated me," she whimpered, glancing back at her battered father.

Unnerved, Roy gestured for Washington to let her approach. Serenity's voice hissed in his earpiece, "That's the daughter—be careful." Roy clenched his jaw, but allowed Celyse a few steps.

In a flash, she whipped out a small concealed dagger and drove it straight at Roy's abdomen. Metal screeched against the advanced plating under his clothes. Roy's eyes widened; if he hadn't been wearing tactical gear, that blade might have run him through.

Washington reacted instantly, snatching Celyse's wrist in an iron grip. A sickening crack echoed as he dislocated the joint. Celyse let out a wail, half pained, half furious. Undeterred, she lunged again with her free hand, only for Washington to fling her aside. She rolled across the cobblestones, groaning.

A pulse of unnatural energy crackled around her form, and she leaped up with startling speed, ignoring the pain in her mangled wrist. But before she could launch another attack, Washington intercepted her mid-lunge, slamming her down. This time, she stayed pinned, panting curses.

A chorus of gasps rippled among the townsfolk. Roy felt a twisting mixture of relief and disgust. He stepped forward, about to demand answers, when another voice spoke up from the sidelines: "Stop, please, don't do more damage here."

Roy glanced over. Elrin, Egvald's younger brother, pushed past the circle of frightened onlookers, arms outstretched in a gesture of peace. He was trembling, but there was a resolve in his eyes. "Let me handle this," Elrin said quietly, nodding at Roy. "We— We can fix this city without more bloodshed. Please, spare us."

The battered townspeople stood behind him. A few slaves, still wearing collars, clutched one another. Some nodded fervently. Others looked too broken to muster hope. But Elrin's presence sparked a glimmer of possibility in their faces.

Roy's gaze flicked between the whimpering baron, the vicious daughter, and the uncertain ring of spectators. He realized how quickly the entire city had cowered before him. In that moment, the choice was his: overthrow Egvald entirely or attempt some half measure.

Elrin took a careful step closer. "I beg of you— let me take over. This city deserves better. I'll see that Egvald and Celyse answer for every crime. My father used to say that if a tyrant is unchecked, the realm rots from within. I… I never had the strength to stand up to him, but…" He swallowed. "Give me that strength now."

Several locals stepped forward, nodding. One older man, the same elder Roy had met, stammered, "Elrin's… always done what he could to soften his brother's cruelty. We'd be better off under him." Another woman chimed in that he'd helped her family keep farmland despite Egvald's attempts to seize it.

Roy's breathing steadied. The immediate fury ebbed into exhausted clarity. He looked at the baron, pinned beneath Lincoln's weight, and at Celyse, groaning under Washington's iron grip. The father and daughter pair glared at Roy with undisguised hatred, but they seemed too broken to fight on.

"All right," Roy said at last, voice hoarse. "They… belong in prison, locked up. Forever. You can see to that?" He leveled a stare at Elrin, who nodded vigorously.

"I promise you," Elrin said, his brow damp with sweat. "They'll never walk free again."

Roy grimaced, mind racing. He turned to watch a scowling Celyse, still pinned. "How did you get that strong so fast?" he demanded.

She spat at him, though her aim was off. "Runic enchantments, idiot," she hissed. "So what? You think you're special with your mechanical devils?"

Roy exhaled, a chill running down his spine. "Then by my command," he said calmly, "you'll rot in a cell for the rest of your life." He cast a final glance at the baron, leaning in close enough for the man to hear. "Both of you. Idiot."

Elrin snapped an order, and the local guards—thoroughly cowed—moved to secure Egvald and Celyse. Roy gave a single nod to Lincoln and Washington, who released their grips. The father and daughter were dragged away, cursing and sobbing in equal measure. The crowd parted to let them pass, a murmur of shock and relief spreading like a breeze.

Meanwhile, Roy's hand still ached. He saw the blood smearing his knuckles and realized how dangerously near he'd come to outright murder. A swirl of conflicting emotions crowded his chest—anger, guilt, and a strange sense of grim accomplishment.

One of the slaves, a battered woman with red welts across her arms, sank to her knees in tears. Another joined her, and before long, a cluster of freed souls stood weeping or pressing their foreheads to the ground. Roy swallowed the knot in his throat. He'd just changed their entire world in minutes.

Elrin cleared his throat. "Th-Thank you," he managed, voice trembling. "I… have much to do. If you'll let me, I'll reorganize the guard, free the slaves… We'll make this city a better place."

Roy nodded absently, letting the words wash over him. "Right," he said distantly, turning on his heel. The Presidroids formed up around him in silent escort. A wave of relief, a wave of exhaustion—he wasn't sure which he felt more. The entire square smelled of sweat and burnt ozone from the deflected fireball, tainted with the copper tang of Egvald's spilled blood.

As he walked away, uncertain if he'd ever return, Roy locked eyes with that child slave again—her collar half-broken, the bruises on her face haunting. This time, she mouthed a single word: "Thanks." It wasn't audible, but Roy understood. He closed his eyes, forcing back tears, and pushed forward, leaving behind the baron's tyranny in ruins.