The shrieks of the helminth became the only constant celebration. Seyvron broke his stance, arm gesturing the ground beneath Solivane. Hardening the graphite. Interlocking him into it, keeping him at bay, knowing his loyalty would cause more trouble than necessary.
"Seyvron-" Solivane snatched his right leg away from the cemented floor.
"You scum-"
A piercing whistle silenced Solivane, glaring while he turned for Aurelius. Hoping the subtext gets through his head.
"My Lord. Surely not." His sharp architected hand cuts the space between them.
"You cannot do what I'm thinking of."
Valtron stepped up, looking down on Seyvron's eagle gaze. "You are going against his order."
Seyvron's head turned at Valtron with a cynical scoff. "In no way, you agree to this senseless strategy."
"Absurd even!"
Despite the logic behind his plea, Valtron disregarded Seyvron. He shifted his attention to his corps amidst the crowd. His broad shoulder moved away, "SSC, spread out!"
"Usual post."
"Priority is, to defend Enarc." He barked, his heavy longsword dug through the graphite as an exclamation.
Some stood unmoving, in absolute defiance of what Aurelius was implying. While some broke their formation, hesitant to follow the orders of their lieutenant.
For once, the soldiers were disoriented.
Enarc was the whole collective of them as one. Not divided into contradicting command chains.
"Lord Aurelius!" A soldier stepped up for the unfairness of it all.
Despite the audacity for a lower rank, he had his hand pressed to his chest. The very salutation of Enarc, was baked into their defiance.
"You say it like our lives mean nothing to you."
"We offered ourselves to you, and you are saying it was all for nothing?!"
"You became strong, and now you're looking down on us."
Solivane's wings tightened at the soldier's mouth, striking the concrete near him. "You know nothing."
"I decided to defy your will!"
"We have the right to decide our lives!" A brigadier argued.
Aurelius extended his talons, caging the very exo in his vision. "I do not define who you are."
"Bold of you,"
"To chain me to your ideals." Clenched his hold.
Valtron angled his head downward in Aurelius' words. Gesturing the Stork's corps to move. Pushing back CC2, as a division of SSC, took over their post.
Solivane thrashed his wings, pulling his feet to release himself in a futile attempt. His skills were restrained, knowing it would only cause harm in this enclosed space.
The brutality of Enarc was not enough to blind them. To stop them from this senseless behavior.
Aurelius flared his wings outwards, seemingly shading them from the harsh sun. The width of the wings was a statement of his difference, despite the lieutenants being avians.
He was a phenomenon, and they were the witnesses.
He lowered himself slightly before looking back at them with a scoff.
"Sir-" Seyvron reached for Aurelius' shoulder.
With just a flap, the air within the borders of Enarc thrashed against the walls, against everyone. Seyvron had to stand his ground from Aurelius' impact.
However, that didn't stop him as Seyvron leaped, hands to his own chest plates. Gripping. Pulling. Clawing through his own metal mid-flight to tear his armor off. Easing his load. He was desperate, chasing his lord.
It didn't take long for Aurelius to be unseen, fast into baiting himself to the expanse of the desert.
[COM: Lieutenant Valtron>General Lucaen]
[Valtron Stork/Field-Recording/00:12:54:33]
[Do you understand.., what's happening to us?]
The speech echoed through the chamber of Tevar's court. Lucaen sat high on his seat, analyzing the live.
"To chain you to their ideals.." Lucaen murmured.
What was a showcase of Enarc's defeat to the public eye, became a great mistake.
You asked for it...
You chose this path…
At first, the showcase was an example of why order must be maintained. A statement of Tevar's way of ruling exceeds Enarc's.
It was never meant to go this far.
[You know him, better than us.]
[I ask for your help.]
The live feed was broadcast for all officers to see as a statement of Tevar's superiority. But that speech?
Why, does it feel wrong?
That speech had no right in making Lucaen stand on edge. It was annoying, foolish even, yet his tail whipped the chair of his to crumble beneath.
Stop.
[Save our lord.]
Lucaen gripped his own muzzle. Clenching it. "Stop broadcasting this instance." An attempt to stop his HUD from sharing with everyone. He held no resentment if the broadcast was of Aurelius' glory. Not this..vulnerable side of him that even Lucaen hadn't seen before.
There's no way he's leaving me..
He turned towards the attendees. The hum of the court long forgotten as they celebrate the joyous event. Echoed the laughter of the winner. The confident stance that they had taken. The venomous camaraderie.
With every tilt of their heads, the whispers of superiority. only fuels the irritation inside him. Claws gripping his own arms. The tension between his EXA plates tightened by their sardonic laughter.
Look at them.
"You fools."
"You are the exact reason Tevar is behind."
"And the shamelessness of calling yourself defenders of Elysium, how degrading."
His fury was a cold judgment, stinging their cores to a sudden halt. An unseen verdict sat on their shoulders.
Lucaen glanced at his HUD; Aurelius was no longer within the borders. Seyvron's mutilation was seared into his mind.
He let out a shaky breath. His flowy robe became a constraint for his movements. Claws clasped behind tightly.
"Heed my orders."
I am his brother.
And you decide to save him?
"Aid the Enarchies."
Their rhythms slowed, freezing as the Tevarians slowly clutched their synchronization port. A pointless gesture to stop the frost from erasing the synchronization of their life.
"Those who fail, may Maat mercy upon you."
Mercy.
How unbefitting of you.
The word mercy drained their rhythm out to their feet in an instant. For a moment, they were naught but statues of exos. Only to be revived with a reversed rhythm in their cores after experiencing a phantom death.
Marked with a curse of compliance under the eyes of Maat as Lucaen stormed to the Linking Port. Leaving all Tevarians unvoiced, unexpressed.
An army of slaves was created, chained to their mockery.
Maat does not care for their will, but they have to. They had no choice but to move, to contribute against the curse cast upon them with fear.
The lieutenants were no different.