7 Earthfall

In the garden, a grand white gazebo stood at the centre of a vibrant tapestry of red and blue flowers. Cheerful chatter echoed from three children, roughly ten years old, as a tall adult sipped tea, watching them from a distance.

"See, see!" a silver-haired boy exclaimed, clasping something in his hands.

A little girl with bright red hair leaned in eagerly, her hands clinging to his arm.

"You ready?" he asked, his dazzling red eyes brimming with joy.

The girl nodded vigorously.

He slowly unclasped his hands. A beautiful butterfly fluttered out, landing delicately on her nose.

"Whoa! A butterfly!" she gasped, awe lighting up her face. For a brief moment, her eyes met the boy's, and a blush dusted her cheeks.

They exchanged a sweet smile, their laughter carrying through the garden.

Watching the pair, a black-haired boy finally spoke. "Whatever… Butterflies aren't that cool," he muttered, though behind his facade, he longed to join in.

"True," the silver-haired boy replied with a laugh. He grabbed the other boy's wrist, pulling him into their circle. "How about we practise some arcane together?"

The trio nodded enthusiastically. The silver-haired boy turned to the adult. "Master Ignius! Can we practise arcane today?"

***

The vivid scene dissolved. Jack's ears rang.

[Oxygen level low. Low. Low.]

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Jack's consciousness returned, jolted by the persistent alarm. His eyes fluttered, vision swimming. A numbing ache throbbed through his scalp, and the sharp, metallic scent of blood filled his nostrils.

With a gasp, Jack sat upright. "Ah!?" He quickly examined his hands. Nothing broken. His fingers flexed, though the headache pulsed like an unwelcome guest.

He reached for the emergency bypass switch, flicking it on.

The alarms ceased as the backup engine hummed to life and the oxygen regenerator kicked in. Slowly, the gravity of reality settled over him.

He wished it were a nightmare. But a glance out the sightport confirmed the truth. Two massive celestial bodies floated lifelessly in space, the aftermath of explosions still visible in the distance.

Debris, boulders, and sharp shards of metal spiralled outward in a deadly storm.

Jack swallowed hard, forcing himself to think.

In his peripheral vision, a digital-ink locket drifted, displaying the image of a boy with bright red eyes and silver hair, a younger version of himself. The sight stirred a sharp pang in his chest, drawing his mind back to the vivid dream.

A question lingered, gnawing at him.

"Who were the others?"

As terrifying clarity set in, Jack scrambled to the sightport, panic flooding his senses as he desperately searched for Germund. The view confirmed his worst fears. Black, ominous smoke billowed from multiple cities, the destruction evident even from orbit.

"My family! Holy Gaia!" Jack cursed, his voice laced with shock and desperation. His mind raced, devising a way to re-enter Earth's atmosphere.

Mulling over the possibility, his initial option was to find a shuttle with Earthfall capabilities, but as he navigated the debris field, it became painfully clear that was impossible.

Space stations and ports had been obliterated, reduced to scrap.

Jack's thoughts bounced between options until a memory lit up his mind.

"The Tool Shed," he murmured, recalling a standalone floating warehouse that orbited in the middle ring.

Without hesitation, he directed the P.N.I. bot toward it.

As the flashing marker on his map drew closer, the rectangular structure came into view, emblazoned with the "DebrisX" logo. A glimmer of hope returned to his face.

Next, Jack focused on his re-entry strategy: a multi-layered shield of bots, an old tactic he'd used against the Light of Punishment. Using his datapad, he began the calculations.

"It's now or never," he mumbled, his resolve solidifying.

The numbers revealed a grim truth. He would need almost fifty puny bots to act as a protective shield.

"With that staggering amount, my brain would be scrambled before I even reached the surface," he hissed through gritted teeth. But giving up wasn't an option, not for Jack Squire.

Taking a deep breath, Jack stared into the endless void, clawing at his brain for a solution.

After minutes of intense deliberation, an idea finally clicked.

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"Pragmatic," he exclaimed, his voice alight with sudden joy.

Wasting no time, Jack swapped his damaged bot for a functional one, boosting its system and fine-tuning the rest. He didn't need to control all the bots individually.

"I can set up group commands in a one-to-five ratio. That means I only need to control ten in total. Each finger can manage two mirrored groups!"

With his plan in motion, Jack's fingers danced inside the mechanical glove controls like a conductor. His movements were swift and precise, directing the bots to form five layers of shielding bodies, a swarm of mechanical bees.

His nerves fired like electric currents, his wide eyes locked on the scene as his plan materialised.

"Activate shield protocol!" he commanded, his voice sharp and authoritative.

As the bots moved in perfect unison, a confident smirk spread across his lips, pride flickering in his gaze.

With a final motion of his fingers, all thrusters ignited as the swarm began its descent toward Earth, setting course for Germund.

As the bots entered the atmosphere, the heat from friction intensified, causing the swarm to glow an ominous red. J

ack watched as the shielding on the outermost layer depleted, the searing heat melting through their hulls. The first line of his protective barrier was gone.

"Come on," he growled through gritted teeth, pressing forward like a daredevil.

One by one, the layers fell. The second line shredded away, then the third, leaving only twenty bots. Jack's eyes darted to the altitude meter. He was still far from the ground.

Fear clawed at him as he swallowed hard, the rising heat in the cockpit making sweat bead on his brow.

Soon, the fourth layer disintegrated, leaving a glowing meteor shower in its wake.

"Screw it! Let's go!" he shouted, a war cry against the inevitable.

The cockpit grew unbearably hot.

35 degrees Celsius… then 36.

Suddenly, his shields failed.

The engine stalled.

Jack stared at the HUD in desperation, silently begging it to work.

Had he miscalculated?

The deafening alarms offered no solace.

But then, he looked up.

The harsh noises faded as his sightport revealed a serene blue sky above a shimmering ocean. Geometric markings on his map confirmed his location: the southern part of Germund.

"Hahahaha! Woohoo!" A maniacal laugh erupted from his parched throat. His trembling hands slowly began to steady, the crushing weight on his shoulders lifting, if only for a moment.

His relief was short-lived. A giant steel mobile suit rippled into view.

"Now?! You've got to be kidding me!" he groaned, his radar pinging furiously.

An Armatus tore across the shoreline at high speed, its thrusters churning up waves. Jack squinted at the HUD, enhancing the image.

"It's missing an arm… and ionised blades," he muttered, his eyes darting to the bot status report. Only two remained. "Two against one."

Wasting no time, Jack directed one puny bot in the opposite direction while his piloted one surged ahead.

"Please work! Please work!" Jack roared.

"Stop right there!" the one-armed Armatus boomed as it closed in, its plasma cannon aimed. It appeared to have narrowly escaped the Light of Punishment.

When Jack didn't respond, the Armatus fired several plasma rounds.

He barrel-rolled, narrowly dodging.

Meanwhile, the remaining puny bot maneuvered beneath the Armatus and clamped onto its right arm.

"Huh?!" the knight inside gasped.

[Self-Destruct!] [Self-Destruct!] [Self-Destruct!]

"What the hell?!" the knight screamed, violently twisting the Armatus to fling the bot off.

[10... 9... 8...]

Jack's muffled voice echoed from the attached bot's speakers, selling the illusion.

Panic overtook the knight.

The hatch on the Armatus torso flew open, and a man leapt out. His personal thruster boosted him toward the ground, where he rolled clumsily before scrambling for the cover of nearby trees.

"Hahahaha! Idiot!" Jack cackled, maneuvering his bot to hover near the now-unoccupied Armatus. He opened his own hatch, wind rushing in.

His legs trembled, but he knew what he had to do.

Swallowing hard, his heart pounding, Jack shouted, "YOLO!" and leapt.

His stomach churned as his boots locked onto the Armatus's metal hatch with a sharp clang.

Wind gusts buffeted him, nearly toppling him over.

"Whoa! Whoa!" he yelped, flailing his arms. After a few tense moments, he scrambled on all fours and dove inside.

Settling into the pilot's seat, Jack slid his hands into the glove controllers. "Quickly, quickly," he muttered, his eyes darting to the horizon.

"Override protocol implementing!" his commanding voice barked as he meticulously took control. The system was surprisingly easy to hijack; the Armatus was designed for superior personnel, not against a cyberattack.

"Now, reroute full authority and disable location trackers. We're going rogue!"

At last, the Armatus suit's head tilted upwards in response.

"Connect protocol to the two P.N.I. bots!" he ordered, a euphoric grin spreading across his face.

[Protocol Completed] [Access Granted]

"Yes, yes! That's what I'm talking about!" He cheered, a smile painted across his face.

With the hijacked mobile suit and the two remaining puny bots in tow, Jack drove them toward the shore at full speed. His red eyes locked onto the horizon, steeling himself for the chaos ahead, his resolve to find his family burning brighter than ever.

***

Somewhere in the southern city of Germund, the remnants of war hung heavily in the air.

The skyline, once a testament to vibrant life, now lay in ruins. Buildings of charming European elegance had crumbled into rubble.

Flames and thick plumes of smoke rose from the wreckage, filling the streets with the acrid scent of destruction.

Cars were abandoned, some charred to husks. Ash floated in the air, a grim reminder of the chaos. The pavement was littered with the withered corpses of the fallen — the sacrificial lambs for the Light of Punishment.

In the midst of it all, the burning hulk of an Armatus had crash-landed into a two-story house, its mechanical legs severed.

The house, built in the traditional Bauernhaus style, had its sturdy frame twisted by the explosion. The steep roof was half-collapsed, and ivy now clung desperately to the charred remnants.

"Don't worry, guys! I'm your trusty Olympian mage!" a cheerful Wildren called out, her voice cutting through the heavy silence as she led a small group of survivors through the wreckage.

Despite the grim surroundings, her expression remained calm and reassuring. She exuded an unshakable confidence that steadied the group behind her.

Some had makeshift bandages, others broken arms or bruises. All were grimy, their clothes torn and faces coated with dust.

Their destination was a refugee camp near the police station, a few kilometres away.

Though the path was fraught with danger, the promise of refuge offered a glimmer of hope.

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