The radiant blue sky blazed overhead as rays of sunlight struck a rainbow reflection across the forest canopy. The cold morning wind blew strongly across the fields and into the verdant forest. The chirping of birds and the muttering of unseen critters filled the ears of listeners. The gentle sway of the leaves cast shifting shadows as they fell to the forest floor below.
Overhead, four shadowy figures emerged from the dense foliage.
"Kaelen, we are going too fast!" A woman with pale skin and pointy ears called out urgently. She brought her hands to her head and brushed a fallen leaf off her hair. Her platinum hair reflected the sun and streaked a shadow over her crimson eyes brightly. She then reached for the metallic staff with a crystal ball on the top, which she had placed near a tree, while her white and gold robe swayed gently along the way. "There are no steam wardens around us." The woman exclaimed with concern.
"Indeed, Lyria is right, Kaelen, we should at least follow some precautionary measures," a woman with the same features as the first woman spoke, but her hair was slightly darker platinum, unlike her friend Lyria with her robes, she was dressed with a boiled leather armour and a black coat, and in her right hand was a bow.
"..." The third figure, standing much taller than the rest, a wolfkin, merely stared at Kaelen and did not speak. His scarred muscles and cerulean eyes had seen enough expeditions to know when words were wasted. He simply tightened his jaw and kept watch along the ley lines of the forest.
"Oh, come on, guys. I told you this area is safe." The fourth figure, much shorter than the rest, yet distinctively human, grinned hard. "I have explored this vast verdant forest yesterday!" He turned around and opened his arms as he laughed cheerfully, "Right, Brennan?" Kaelen then winked.
Upon seeing the wink, a small drop of sweat formed on Brennan's forehead. Not wanting to entertain, he glanced to the side, as if he had heard nothing.
"Mira, I think we are doomed," Lyria shook her head and then continued, "We joined a bunch of muscleheads."
"Right..." Mira said and sighed.
Mira and Lyria then stopped in their tracks in protest, to which Brennan only rolled his eyes as he saw their attitudes.
"We should move now. If we go back, we would suffer a penalty anyway for moving through without proper authorization from the guild and the Steam Wardens." Brennan broke his silence as he swiftly glanced back at Kaelen. "If we return to the guild now empty-handed, we would not only lose our deposit, but face a massive fine."
Kaelen, who was standing unmoving over the sidelines, looked as if he had seen a ghost—a stark contrast to his two party members, who were fuming with anger.
"Without proper authorization?!" Lyria bellowed. "Explain it right this instant, young man!" She screamed in anger as she strode across the ground and faced Kaelen.
However, despite being faced by Lyria, Kaelen was not amused nor shocked. Instead, his face told a different story, his muscles contorted in shock as if his soul had left his body.
Confused, Lyria glanced over at her other party mates, who had the same expression. Dumbfounded, she turned to her back, her eyes widened, muscles tightened, and her mouth fell agape as she gazed with laser-focused intensity at the construct before her.
Then there it was,
Half buried in the earth like a fallen god, surrounded by a vast forest of vegetation, the construct towered over them. Eight segmented legs, each as thick as the ancient oaks of old, splayed across the clearing. Vines sprawled all over its hull, but beneath all of it, metal of unknown material gleamed wherever light touched it, seamlessly and cold.
There were no gears, no steam vents, there were no furnace glows, no enchantment runes. It was incredibly sophisticated, as if it was left over by some great magical civilization, but strangely no magic emanated from it.
There were some strange symbols pulsing faintly with crimson light along its carapace. Along its hull, an unknown rune of language was carved, "United Earth Defense Force"
"By the mercy of the gods!..." Mira breathed heavily. "What is that?"
"It does not seem to be a steam knight," Kaelen whispered, all the confidence and bravado he had earlier were now gone. "It is not... anything I have ever seen." He muttered as he moved closer.
Seeing this, Brennan's hand swiftly moved to his axe, his ears were flat against his skull, raw terror evident from his expression. "We should leave hastily. Now."
Yet none of the other party members moved.
The towering construct lay motionlessly, half consumed by the earth and time. How much time had already passed since it fell here? Decades? Centuries? Eons? The metal showed no degradation nor rust. It was as if it had fallen just merely yesterday.
Or perhaps was it waiting?
"W-we should report this to the guild immediately," Lyria grabbed Kaelen's arm, her hands shaking, yet Kaelen paid no heed.
"Then admit we crossed without proper authorization into unexplored territory of the Stygian Frontier?" Kaelen's eyes never left the construct. His fear was overshadowed by the fluctuating adrenaline, curiosity and greed. "Do you know what the nations pay for ancient relics?"
"K-Kaelen please don't"
But it was already too late, his hands were mere moments away from touching the construct's surface.
He ignored her, stepping over the muddy debris, his hands reached out, toward the glowing runes.
Then the construct's eyes ignited with a fiery crimson red.
Crimson lights flooded the area, that was so bright Mira had to shield her face. The symbols along the hull blazed to life, that pulsed like that of a heartbeat.
Then the ground shook, the trees swayed, and time seemed to slow down.
Metals groaned, vines snapping, and the ground vibrating, the earth cascaded along the construct's frame as it began to move. First the legs pulling itself from the soil, followed by another and another as the ancient construct whirred in an ancient frequency of sound.
"Run!" Brennan roared with his chest pounding loudly.
But none of them were able to move, they couldn't breathe under the pressure.
The ancient titan of old was rising from its grave.