Chapter 5: Unmade

The front lines were colder than Kaiden expected.

Not the weather — the silence.

No war horns. No marching drums. Just wind, ash, and the slow hiss of dying magic fires in the grass.

His squad moved through the aftermath of a skirmish gone wrong. Demon corpses lay strewn across the field like discarded armor pieces. Blackened bone. Melted sigils. One soldier was still upright — pinned to a tree by a holy spear, more statue than corpse.

Kaiden limped at the rear, metal dragging on stone.

His capped left arm sparked every few steps. The glitch in his leg hadn't been fixed — it twitched when he pivoted too hard, threatened to seize if he overextended. He didn't tell anyone.

Let them underestimate him again.

Let them be wrong.

They found the enemy at dusk.

A small unit — human mages and frontline templars — stationed around the ruins of a crumbled watchtower. Arcane chalk patterns glowed faintly on the cracked stone. Summoning circles. Tethered wards. This wasn't just cleanup.

This was a ritual site.

"High-priority targets," Varn muttered, his voice low and dead.

Kaiden crouched beside a shattered wall, steam rising from his spine.

He waited for the command.

Then broke into a sprint.

The battle was brutal — all heat and noise and blood.

Screams. Sparks. Steel against bone.

Kaiden was fast — faster than anyone expected. His first strike crushed a shield; the second caved in a ribcage. His right arm drove through a man's chest like a spear of iron, sparks bursting on contact.

His squad followed behind, but they didn't keep up.

His body ran hot — too hot. His HUD flickered. The left leg jittered mid-stride, throwing his timing.

And someone noticed.

A templar flanked him — sword arcing low. Kaiden turned just in time to block it, but the angle was wrong. The impact jarred his core and sent him staggering to one knee.

Then he saw him.

Across the rubble.

A figure in silver-trimmed robes. Pale gray. Clean. Calm. A staff in one hand. No armor. No blood on his robes.

Arvan Callister.

Kaiden's systems surged. His metal spine sparked. Rage drowned out everything else.

He pushed upright, dragging his bad leg through shattered stone.

"You," Kaiden growled. "Why aren't you fighting?"

Arvan said nothing.

Just watched.

Measured.

Kaiden stepped forward, ignoring the warnings flaring in his HUD. Behind him, the squad called out — muffled, irrelevant. Even the humans had backed away.

"You think you're too good to fight—"

Then his vision fractured.

Not from a blade — from inside.

A pulse of light magic hit him in the chest — a pressure spell. But instead of blasting him backward, it froze his core.

His heart stopped.

Just for a second.

Long enough.

He collapsed, mechanical systems glitching. Air hissed from damaged vents. Power rebooted.

Arvan approached slowly, gaze sharp.

"You shouldn't exist," he said.

Kaiden twitched, forcing breath into half-burnt lungs.

"You weren't part of the summon. Not in the circle. Not even near it. You were just… torn through."

Another pulse — this one mental.

Kaiden's eye stuttered. The world glitched.

And for a second, he saw his old apartment.

The ceiling fan.

The vodka bottle on the counter.

The train.

Then nothing but static.

"You were never meant to be here," Arvan said again, softer this time.

Kaiden lunged.

One last desperate swing.

Arvan's fingers twitched.

Kaiden's entire frame locked. Every joint. Every servo. Even his neck. His body dropped like a marionette with its strings cut.

Dust. Stone. Metal on bone.

Arvan stood over him, staff glowing faintly. His eyes scanned Kaiden's fused frame, half-scorched plating and exposed synthetic tissue.

"Do you feel like a man," he asked, "or a machine?"

Kaiden couldn't move. Couldn't answer.

He couldn't even blink.

"I'll let you live. For now," Arvan said. "Not because you matter. But because I want to see what you become."

Then, with a shimmer of air, he vanished.

The squad recovered Kaiden minutes later — twitching, prone in the dirt. His systems were half-cooked. Varn said nothing. Kess and Sylen looked spooked.

Kaiden didn't speak during the trip back.

He didn't even twitch.

That night, Kaiden sat alone.

Back in his chamber. One good hand caked in blood and dirt. Sparks blinked from his left leg every few seconds, like a dying firefly.

He stared at his palm.

At the mess.

He wasn't spared because he was strong.Not because he was valuable.He was spared because he was interesting.

A variable. A mistake.

Kaiden's jaw clenched.

His fingers curled into a shaking fist.

"I'll show you what I become."