The Pillar of Enera

[Book II Chapter 71] HOPE: Cursed Fate

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“I’m going to open fire on you now.” Dorothy Lace announced. Above Hope, the orange mobile armor pointed multiple gun barrels at her.

Awww dang it, Hope thought, accelerating at full speed. She was piloting a borrowed mech, one of Argon’s custom crafts called Envy Green, and she’d barely gotten the hang of the controls. As projectiles sailed by her on all sides, she did her best to dodge them haphazardly. She couldn’t even try to defend herself as the weapon systems had been disabled.

She lasted barely a minute before a series of impacts send her tumbling towards the ground. Panicked, She worked to stabilize her fall and managed a rough landing. Dorothy’s GunHell came down and hovered near her.

“Pathetic display.” She said coldly. “You aren’t worthy of flying one of Argon’s masterpieces.”

I didn’t ask for this! Hope swallowed the retort.

“We’re heading back.” Dorothy declared, soaring off.

Grumbling, Hope got airborne, discovering that whatever ordnances Dorothy had used hadn’t done any lasting damage. She then obediently followed Gunhell back towards Cloud Fortress Omega Nine.

“What does Argon want with me…” Hope muttered. The immortal had lend her Envy Green and instructed his elite squad of pilots to train her to fly the thing. She couldn’t fathom his motives. I ain’t fighting for him no matter how much he threaten me.

With a surge of relief, Hope parked her building size giant in the hanger. The cockpit door swung open automatically, but she didn’t move, sinking further into her seat. Another of her ‘instructors’, Leon Cortes, was waiting below. She despised him. The man was the most arrogant and cold of the lot.

“How was target practice?” Leon asked Dorothy as she dismounted.

“I wish I could say it was fun, but it didn’t last long.” She answered, dropping to the ground. “And I wasn’t even using a third of my arsenal.”

Hope silently endured the chit chat discussing her inadequacy, praying the two would just leave. When they finally did, Leon stopped and called back to her. “I forgot. Once you’ve recuperated, Argon wants to see you.”

Hope remained slouched. I have an immortal level war machine under my control, yet I’m still trapped. With a hand, she tugged at the metal around her neck.

The severing collar would decapitate her the instant she strayed to far from Cloud Fortress Omega Nine. Or if its creator gave the signal. Her efforts to tamper with the enchantments had come to nothing. The magic of a paragon like Argon Blast was indecipherable to her. And this isn’t the worst of it.

Closing her eyes, Hope concentrated. Gradually, words formed into sentences in her mind.

Sublime Vagary: Cursed Fate

Passive: Attracts misfortune and life-threatening danger.

Activation: Summon good luck as compensation for all misfortune experienced.

What is this sick joke? She’d never heard of such a negative passive effect. The activation would at best cancel out the problems attracted her way. Recalling all her near brushes with death, she could see where such an ability might have come from. That didn’t stop her from utterly rejecting it.

Hope sighed and got up. Look at the bright side. I wanted to know more about mobile armors, and now I got my wish.

Returning to the immense central room which served as Argon’s workshop, she was surprised to find the immortal with a lanky man in black. Both were looking up at the repaired mech she’d shot down and the undead in the cockpit.

“… So what do you think?” The lanky man said.

“An unstoppable war machine controlled by a pilot devoid of fear and mercy…” Argon stared up at the undead. “I admire of what you trying to do from an aesthetic standpoint. You’ll get the parts you need.”

“However,” Argon added. “I must stess that no matter how great their skill in piloting, their refusal to communicate is a critical flaw. Flesh and blood pilots won’t be replaced any time soon.”

“Oh, we’re close to solving that problem.” The lanky man responded. “We’ve a very special specimen for our ultimate craft.”

Argon’s face went taut. It was Hope’s first time seeing such a serious expression on the man. “You’re venturing into territory even I wouldn’t dare tread. Some things aren’t meant to be.”

“I am aware of the risks. Worst case, we might be shaping the instrument of our own demise.” The lanky smirked. “But if you cared that much for the survival of the world, you wouldn’t have defected.”

“True.” Argon chuckled, back to his relaxed, confident self. “I am in no position to object.”

After a few last pleasantries, the lanky man gave a signal, and the undead picked him up with its mech before flying out the room.

“Who was that?” Hope asked.

“Daniel Ryson, a necromancer fascinated by the application of violence.” Argon answered. “It’s no surprise such a kindred spirit joined the Grey Empire.”

Hope studied the large black man bitterly. “Why do you enjoy war so much?”

“Because peace is boring. It dulls the mind and the spirit.” Argon shook his head. “My creativity will not be restrained, and only in conflicts can it shine. The pain of loss and thrill of victory is my world.”

He’s just crazy. Even after several day, Hope couldn’t understand the man. “Why did you want to see me?”

Argon grinned widely. “It’s time to reveal your purpose.” He touched a display, and the large armored figure appeared. Hope recognized it as Astrolis, the machine her original had made. “You’re going to help us steal it.”

“What?” Hope’s mind swirled. “How would—— Isn’t it in the Northern Empire?”

“It has been standing immobile in the port city of Palos since the fracturing.” Argon revealed. “Just a few hundred miles across the Blue Abyss.”

“They’d never let us just take it.” Hope objected dumbly.

Argon smiled turned cruel. “Of course not. However, the empire’s in turmoil, and Lithorn is convening the Bloodstone Order. Immortals from all over are heading to the capital, leaving places like Palos unguarded. A swift, surgical strike of sufficient power can liberate Astrolis… and you’ll pilot it back for us.”

“… And if I refuse?” Hope said slowly.

“Then I’ll destroy it as originally planned.” Argon said without missing a beat. “A war machine which never sees action is pointless, and it’s so tiresome having my work compared to that ancient fossil.”

“And if I agree?”

“Then I’ll remove the collar around your neck.” Argon said snuggly. “So what will it be? Action and adventure, or rotting in cell for the rest of the dark age?”