Sorian stood in disbelief at what they presented before them, everything he had seen before him was beyond anything he ever expected. Weapons he had never seen before but were clearly designed for destruction. He tried hard to hide his expressions of shock and awe. He had seen many armies over his years, but he had never witnessed such features of technology before.

The brief message he had been given before his departure was now feeling inadequate - they were never overly verbose, but now it was feeling that even those that provided his mission were misinformed. Cazri’s facial expressions were a mix of pride, excitement and supreme confidence - her nervous demeanor from the past few days of travel had now disappeared.

Elite had remained silent, thankfully, without muscles in his face he could hide any visual feelings towards this moment from any prying eyes. Under his bony shell was not fear or shock, it was curiosity: what was all of this, what did it do, and what did it have to do with them?

Fascinating… The minds of those under who desire to reach further than they are destined to. I can see it now… blood, bodies, death, war and a path leading upon it all to the end. But who travels this path?

“We have more planned for the three of you than you would ever imagine.” Cazri interrupted Elite’s train of thought as she proudly began her presentation that she had been waiting to introduce for so long. “Elite, Sorian, please follow me. Storm, please follow my associate until I catch up with you momentarily.”

Sorian coughed, lightly this time as Cazro began walking Elite towards another tent. The many bodies of the Dwarven army parting like a river cutting through the earth. He looked up at Storm, his eyes full of an emotion he could not announce through fear of those around him. He stared directly into his eyes, concern for the future was clear, but without the ability to pass on his thoughts this was the best he could do. Then, he turned and followed Cazri once more.

“You probably imagined that we were just marching with swords and shields. I know that’s your style. However we are much more sophisticated here in Alerar.”

“Well you are full of surprises.” Elite tried to focus on where they were heading, but it was hard to ignore the many Dwarves that stared up at him, full of excitement and awe of his presence. Though exactly why was not yet clear.

“Never play your hand too early.”

Approaching a obnoxiously large marquee style tent, two Dwarves appearing to first guard the entrance, pulled on two parallel large ropes, opening the entrance to them as if they were kings. Initially ducking under the door Elite could stand upright inside, the tent structure as much more than that once inside. Decorated fabrics lined the walls, mahogany tables and giant gold lined candles lit up the room. Why such wealth needed to be displayed in such a place was unclear at this time, but it felt unnecessary to both Elite and Sorian, and gave them internally a inadequate feeling; they certainly weren’t dressed for such luxury.

A fancy looking Dwarf of equal luxury stepped out before them, wearing a robe that hung off him like it was designed for someone much bigger, but the quality was not in question. His thick hands slipped out from under his robe arms and wided in greeting to them, his fingers decorated with rings and gems, he smiled.

“Friends! Welcome to the beginning of your future!”

Sorian stepped forward politely and held out his hand. “Greetings, my name is Sorian.”

The Dwarf stroked his grey beard momentarily and then wrapped his fingers around Sorian’s outstretched hand. “Yes, I’m sure you are.” He smiled, making only brief eye-contact with Sorian and then looked up to Elite - he looked strangely excited.

Elite peered down at the little man. “I don’t shake hands.”

“I’m quite sure you don’t, but I’ve not had you brought here to shake hands. I’ve something quite extraordinary for yourself. And I’m very much excited to get your input. My name is Aratmus Barrelborn. I am here to offer you power, not just within my army, but within my Kingdom to be.”

“Go on.”

“The world is incredibly unbalanced, and there are many now who see the wisdom in paying for my rise to power. I have more plans than I could ever share with you… But in all honesty, it is not something you need to know, nor would you care to know.”

“I would be interested in knowing.” Sorian interrupted, shaking his hand in the air as he tried to get the Dwarf to look in his direction.

“Well. Maybe that would be a story I can share with you another time. For now it is not important. So I’ll cut to the point and get to my prized asset. I need you for one very good reason. You, my good Sir, are dead.”

“Your observation skills are remarkable.”

“When this technology and power became available to me I was not sure what it meant. I believed it was a power that was too dangerous to keep, and thus, I was going to destroy it. Little did I know that someone like you actually existed.” He looked Elite up and down, stroking the rough of his boney leg down with his fingers as if to admire it. His eyes constantly and firmly locked onto Elite as if he was obsessed. Sorian had only seen such obsession from men when a woman was involved, but this man was not envisioning a woman in this obsession.

“Aratmus.” Cazri, who had remained leaning against a wooden pillar, stood upright and interjected. “Would it not be easier to show them than explain. Describing such a feat of power…. It just doesn’t do it justice.”

His now crazy looking eyes blinked as he took his focus off Elite’s structure. “Yes. Yes. A demonstration is in order. Besides, I would like to speak with the wizard.”

“Mr. Veritas is waiting outside for you anyway.”

“Yes, I can have my private conversation with him afterwards. I want to see him marvel as this wondrous invention.”

Sorian’s instinct screamed to get out of there, he was terrified of what was happening. So many different scenarios ran through his head, and there was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say that wouldn’t put himself into a worse position. For now, he had to just go with it.

The proud Aratmus walked to the army's admiration, they clearly believed and followed him, and many bowed or tipped their head as he passed. Cazri walked alongside him, appearing a trusted advisor regardless of her different race. How she had gained such a position alongside the Dwarves was a question that circled in Sorians head.

They soon returned to the strange device that they passed earlier, Storm remained waiting patiently but perked up to their presence. He did not look as fazed as Sorian did, and that only continued to make Sorian feel ever so more alone within this sea of dwarves.

“Mr. Veritas!” Aratmus called out, his open arms wide as if to invite a hug. “We have much to discuss, but little time in which to do so. So before I take you aside, let me use your gifts to present my demonstration. Cazri, please show Mr. Optic what he needs to do.”

Storm was invited closer to the device while Elite was ushered up and between the copper domed pipes. He walked up to it, intrigued, the base was on a simple platform that could be wheeled along with the army, but unlike a catapult the steel struts and poles that raised up were not attached to rope and wheel mechanisms. Elite had not seen such a thing before, and with no fear of the consequences he climbed up on the wooden base.

“Take hold of the mask, then stand between the poles.” Cazri called out leaning over the edge of the wooden base.

Fearlessly Elite stepped forward, resting his giant sword on his shoulder rack, he collected the strange metallic mask. Formed to look somewhat human, but with wires protruding out and into the base of the steel poles beside him. It had eye holes which somewhat limited his vision, but no other facial holes. He inspected it, there were no clamps or straps of which to tie it to his head, and while the steel dome inside wouldn’t be comfortable for a mortal, it fit perfectly for his skull.

“Bring the demon!” Cazri shouted out unexpectedly, and both Elite and Sorian peered over to watch as several heavily armoured dwarves dragged at poles length a demon. The tight nooses around its neck controlled its movement, forcing it to its knees before the device and pinning it down in the yellow dirt in submission. It’s veins pulsed, its mouth frothed and it’s eyes glared out at all of those around it. Like a wild beast it looked ready to attack at the slightest hint of weakness, something the armoured dwarves did not show.

“Put it on, Elite.” Carzi shouted up to him.

There were so many questions to ask at this point, but Elite did not want to ask questions, he wanted action, he wanted to know what this was all about, and the best way was to learn by doing. He raised the mask up and slipped it over his skull and almost instantly felt it cling to him, a strange feeling struck him, it reminded him of the warm sensation of heated water being poured over his head. Hidden beneath the magical silence of the mask, Elite could not hear the actions besides him. Storm erupted a powerful wave of electric energy, pouring from his hands like an erupting volcano from the dull earth. The two copper domes lit up, sparking and almost exploding as beams of blue and yellow electric light streamed through the sky. Everyone stepped back from the electrical explosion and then silence fell upon them all.

Elite's vision seemed to black out for a moment, a solid darkness slowly brightened as the various colours of the world returned to him. The red of the demon's blood, the brown of the copper domes beside him, and even the dark blue of Cazri’s skin as she stared up at him. The sound of a voice echoed in his head, rough and deep, it roared for help, it roared in an effort to fight, and it was filled with an enduring anger that did not wish to quell.

I can hear you. I can feel your presence without speech. Stop.

The voices of those around him dampened as if they were under water, and only the demon’s thoughts before him became clear. The dwarves released the nooses under Carzi’s command and the demon looked up to Elite who stared down like a giant to a wild mouse. A strong urge to control overcame him, the inner feeling like he could talk to it, control it, lead it wherever he wanted. It was under his control. What was causing this sensation?

Kneel before me.

The demonic beast stopped flailing around and kneeled before him as he commanded. Elite could feel the hate coming from the beast, words of rage and anger still lingered in his mind, and yet it still followed his command.

Kill yourself.

To everyone’s surprise the Demon placed its hands either side of his head, low and high, and twisted sharply. The loud snap cracked, making a few cringe at the noise, and then it collapsed. Sorian’s mouth gaped, his eyes never leaving the dead body of the demon. Why did it do that?

Elite removed the helmet, the sound of the real world returning to him, cheering Dwarves shouted around him, followed by the almost sadistic laugh that escaped from Carzi’s smiling lips.

“You see Mr. Veritas,” Aratmus reached up and patted his shoulder. “The first thing I need from yourself… is to do just that. The sheer amount of power that we need to do it alone is too time consuming, whereas you can produce this far, far easier. However, I have even more than that planned for you. Please follow me back to my tent. We have much to discuss.”

Sorian felt so small right now. Not only had the plans of Cazri been beyond what he had ever expected, but the Penumbra Syndicate had clearly underestimated what was going on here. Had he come here simply to die?

“You look surprised?” Cazri leaned over Sorian, her prying silver eyes trying to read his every thought.

“I think it’s clear that you don’t really care about closing the gate… Maybe you don’t even care about the sword.”

“Oh, we care about the sword, but while others think so small, we plan bigger.”

Sorian coughed again, the recurring chesty cough getting sharper and sharper into his lungs, so much so that as he pulled back his covering hand, a bit of blood smeared his palm.

Cazri did not miss the sight of blood on his hand, and proceeded to wrap her arm around him in a fake display of caring. “Don’t worry. Old age hits us all, you aren’t really needed here anyway.”