Chapter 21: New faces

As Kaiden stood once again in the familiar war room—its iron walls lined with maps, mana-tracking charts, and old war banners—he felt the weight of more gazes than the first time he entered it. The air was thicker, colder. Rank-hardened officers and fortress captains flanked the long stone table like statues carved from duty and suspicion.

"We expect a plausible reason for why your squad went offline for an extended amount of time without reporting back," one of the captains said, tone clipped and sharp.

Kaiden's frame wobbled slightly. His voice came out hoarse, metallic static fuzzing the edge of each word. "Well... I do have a reason. But I don't think it's plausible..."

His synthetic limbs sparked faintly with each movement, joints groaning as if echoing his exhaustion. Dried blood clung to the seams of the plating on his chest. One optic lens flickered in and out like a dying lantern. A Toyota with three collisions and a cracked engine block probably looked better.

"Which is?" asked one of the fortress captains, resting their chin over steepled fingers, eyes unblinking.

"In the Neutral Zone... there was a human, I think. Cast a teleportation spell—sucked us through. We ended up near a heavily fortified human town." Kaiden winced as his head twitched involuntarily, his voice distorting as a wire near his jaw sparked and fizzled. "We also found out that the emperor was visiting the town."

That drew silence. Then, low murmurs like shifting gravel. The war room vibrated with quiet tension.

There were only two emperors in this world. One was the Human Emperor Valerio—called "the Insane" by the other races. The other was the Demon Lord, mockingly dubbed "the Rabid Emperor" by humans. The mention of either's name carried the weight of a continent's worth of conflict.

The murmuring captains turned toward the two fortress commanders—one grizzled with decades of scar-born experience, the other young but with magic-branded arms that shimmered faintly beneath their sleeves. Kaiden caught snatches of doubt and urgency—words like "prepare," "border escalation," "malfunctioning tin soldier."

Eventually, he was dismissed. Each squad member was brought in separately and questioned. Their stories aligned. Perfectly. Begrudgingly, the officers conceded that regardless of how bizarre the situation was, the intelligence they brought was useful. The emperor's tour of the border towns could only mean war was brewing—and now the fortress had time to brace.

The least they could offer in return was repair.

Kaiden sat silently in the fortress's mechanical bay, the scent of mana-scorched metal thick in the air. Sparks flew as his chest plate was pried open, internal components carefully extracted and replaced. Mana-threading tools buzzed as they restructured the rune lattice along his spine. A new arm slid into place with a metallic hiss—sleek, angular, and laced with fresh enchantments to stabilize his power flow. His broken leg had been replaced by a reinforced obsidian-brass alloy limb, etched with deep demon-forged markings.

His voice box crackled back to clarity. A new optic lens calibrated automatically, casting a soft red glow as he blinked. Movement finally felt natural again. No more stuttering limbs or burning internal arcs. For the first time in weeks, he stood upright without feeling like a mistake of alchemy and scrap.

"Yay. I don't need to glitch like a new triple-A game at least," he muttered, stretching out his new arm as a tech demon packed up the last of their tools.

Just as he was preparing to leave, an officer entered the bay, holding a sealed scroll.

"You're being reassigned," the officer said without preamble.

Kaiden frowned. "Reassigned how?"

"Not replaced. Formalized. Your unit has been granted a designation: Squad Scorchveil."

Kaiden made a face. "Sounds like someone let a poet name it."

The officer ignored him. "You're also receiving a new member—direct order from Central Command. They want your squad to be more self-sufficient. Especially when wandering into human territory."

From the doorway, a figure stepped in—tall, robed in deep maroon trimmed with charred bone. Her presence was sharp and cold. As she pulled her hood down, Kaiden saw glowing sigils inked across her cheekbones and neck—demon glyphs for fire, binding, and arcane purity. Her eyes shimmered with molten crimson, and her expression was pure frost.

"This is Velra. Combat mage, border-trained, certified in firebinding, displacement, and arcane field manipulation. She'll be joining Squad Scorchveil," the officer said.

Velra stepped forward, stopping just shy of Kaiden. She didn't offer a hand or greeting. Just looked him up and down like he was rusted junk someone accidentally stepped on.

"So," she said flatly. "This is the half-thing they're pairing me with."

Kaiden raised a brow. "You're off to a good start."

"You're not a demon," she said, ignoring the sarcasm. "You wear one's skin, but you stink of human design. I follow orders—but don't expect me to save you when your limbs start glitching again."

Kaiden gave her a long stare, then smirked. "Good news. I don't expect anyone to save me. Ever."

Velra's jaw tightened, but she said nothing more. The room practically hummed with the tension between them.

The officer sighed. "She's here to keep you from getting lost in enemy territory again. Try not to let your mechanical parts offend her too much."

Kaiden turned and grabbed the worn coat that had been resting beside the repair slab, slinging it over his rebuilt frame. "I'm sure we'll get along just fine."

Velra snorted and walked past him without a word.