Elmore struggled to his feet, every muscle screaming in protest, his left arm hanging limply at his side, still twisted and broken. His right hand, the only part of him still fully functional, grasped at the ground beside him, fingers curling around a jagged piece of broken cinder block. He knew now—blades and slashes wouldn’t work on Twilight’s metallic skin. He needed brute force. He needed something that could crush through the armor-like exterior.
Twilight, on the other side of the battlefield, was no better off. The man’s leg, twisted grotesquely from Elmore’s earlier strike, was slowly knitting itself back together, the metal skin rippling as his bones realigned. Twilight hobbled toward Elmore, his face a mask of rage and cold determination, his movements slow but steady. Elmore could see the strain in his gait, the weakness in his newly healed leg. The enemy leader’s body was healing, but not fast enough to restore him completely before their next encounter.
As Elmore stood, his left eye finally fully open again, he assessed the situation. The battlefield raged around them, but in this moment, it was just him and Twilight. Each of them wounded, each of them regenerating at an unnerving pace, but neither willing to back down. Twilight’s leg was nearly healed as he hobbled closer, and Elmore knew he couldn’t let him recover fully. He had to act now, before his enemy regained his full strength.
Twilight took another step forward, and in that instant, Elmore saw his opening. The man overextended, his leg giving way for just a fraction of a second. Elmore moved instinctively, twisting his body behind Twilight with the speed and precision born from countless battles and his Aither Memory guiding every step.
With a savage growl, Elmore swung the chunk of cinder block with all his might, slamming it into the back of Twilight’s skull. The impact was brutal, the sound of metal on stone echoing through the immediate area. Twilight staggered forward, but Elmore didn’t stop. He followed the man down, driving the broken piece of cinder block into his head again and again, using all the strength he had left in his good arm.
Each strike sent a tremor through Elmore’s body, but he didn’t let up. Twilight’s metallic skin, resilient as it was, began to give way, the dense material denting and warping with each brutal blow. Twilight’s body convulsed beneath him, his movements becoming more sluggish as Elmore continued his assault, the sound of stone striking metal dulling with each hit.
Elmore’s breath came in ragged gasps, sweat and blood mixing on his skin as he drove the cinder block into Twilight’s skull one final time. The metallic sheen of his enemy’s skin faded, retreating like a dying light, revealing the pale flesh of a mortal man beneath. Twilight’s body twitched once more, and then went still. Elmore had caved in his skull, crushing it completely—without ever breaking the skin.
For a long, suspended moment, Elmore simply sat there, straddling the dead man’s back, the piece of cinder block still clutched in his hand. His breath came in harsh, ragged pulls, and his entire body ached with the effort. But it was over. He had done it. Twilight was dead. Finally assessing his own body enough to see twilight's arm bent backwards and embedded up to the elbow in Elmore's guts.
The battle around them continued to rage on, but not everyone had noticed the fall of their leader. The gunfire and the clang of metal still filled the air, men locked in brutal combat on both sides. Elmore knew that if he didn’t make it clear, the bloodshed would continue long past what was necessary. But he couldn't, he slumped over onto the hard packed earth and felt himself losing too much blood. His jaw having just started knitting itself back on he was without voice. Looking up into the sky and watching the swirls of aither curl and shudder as skills were used all over agitating its natural beauty, and Elmore saw it the beauty in death, war, bloodshed, honor, comradery, survival. Like physical things being etched onto the world like a stain as beautiful as cherry blossoms made of glinting obsidian. Not evil but not a light thing either.
As the life was washing out of him and he saw dark buds of aither forming from his own failing he felt something warm, and wet right where his kidney was hanging lose. And like a miracle the itch and scream of his own aither rushed healing calmed in that spot and closed up not much more but enough, only to feel it again along with a harsh huff as his jaw calmed and slid back into place and after multiple more wet licks came his way he was able to talk “hey girl arnt you a good dog i didn't know you could do this ” as she went about a few more happy licks showing she might have not known either, after a few moments of pets and thanks elmore looked over at the now dead man knowing what to do.
With a grunt of effort, he dropped the cinder block still locked in his hand and grabbed Twilight’s lifeless body by the shoulders, hoisting him up with his good arm.
Elmore rose to his feet, his body screaming in protest, but he stood tall, lifting Twilight’s body high above his head. His bloodied, battered form held the dead leader for all to see. Slowly, those closest to the duel began to notice, their eyes widening in shock as they saw the unmistakable form of their king hanging limp in Elmore’s grasp.
The ripple effect was immediate. Word spread like wildfire through the enemy ranks, men shouting and gesturing toward their fallen leader. Panic took root in their ranks, and one by one, enemy fighters began retreating. They piled back into their vehicles, their fear driving them to escape the battle. Trucks roared to life, tires spinning wildly in the dirt as they scrambled to leave the valley.
But the road was narrow, and with so many trying to escape at once, chaos ensued. Vehicles slammed into each other, bottlenecking the exit as trucks careened off the road into ditches, drivers desperately trying to push through the retreating mass. In their desperation, many of them were cut down by Elmore’s forces, the retreat turning into a bloody rout. The enemy was fleeing, but not all of them would make it out alive.
Finally, as the last of the enemy vehicles tore out of the valley, silence fell over the battlefield. The remaining combatants stood in stunned stillness, watching the remnants of Nicholas Twilight’s army disappear over the horizon.
Elmore dropped Twilight’s body to the ground, feeling the weight of his exhaustion crash over him. His vision blurred for a moment, but then a soft glow appeared in the corner of his vision—a notification from his Nexus. He blinked, and the screen came into focus, the words clear and simple:
War Won
He stared at the words for a long moment, the enormity of the victory sinking in. The battle was over. His people had survived, and the valley was still theirs. But the cost had been steep, and as Elmore stood amidst the wreckage, surrounded by the bodies of friend and foe alike, he knew that this war had only marked the beginning of a much larger conflict in the world beyond his land.
The battlefield lay silent, save for the occasional rumble of engines and the groans of the wounded. Elmore stood amid the dust and debris, bloodied but unbowed, his gaze drifting over the remnants of the conflict. As he exhaled, trying to catch his breath, a new notification flared to life in his Nexus, the words clear and bold in his vision:
First War of the Thrones on the North American Continent: Victory Declared
The statement hung in his vision, the weight of it sinking in. The first war of the thrones, he mused, feeling a strange mixture of pride and grim understanding. He hadn’t set out to be any sort of conqueror, and yet here he stood, a victor in a battle that would shape his people’s history.
Another message followed, asking him what he would do with the defeated throne of Boone. Elmore thought about it carefully. Twilight’s men were still retreating, some wounded and limping out of the valley, others casting wary glances over their shoulders at him and his people. As he looked out over the battered landscape, the decision became clear.
He raised his voice, addressing both his own people and the stragglers of Twilight’s forces who still remained in earshot. “From this day forward, the Boone throne shall never trade, do commerce, nor wage war with our home. You’re excommunicated from our lands. This valley doesn’t welcome you, not for trade, not for alliance, not for a single coin exchanged.”
As his words echoed through the valley, the Nexus glitched for a moment, a spider-web crack flickering across the screen. Letters and symbols shifted, recalculating, until the word Excommunication appeared in large, imposing letters, a green checkmark beside it as if to acknowledge his declaration as something new, something unprecedented.
The system responded with a soft chime, and a new notification appeared in his vision:
Reward Granted: Immortal Structure Token x2
The words glowed, then faded, leaving Elmore to catch his breath. He hadn’t asked for a reward, but as the system shimmered out of view, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction. Around him, his men were already gathering the wounded, checking over their comrades and even the few surviving enemy fighters. Through the strange powers of vitality granted by the Aither, neither side had lost many lives. Some lay unconscious, others bore grievous wounds, but the death toll was staggeringly low. Life had won out over death today, even in the face of such violence.
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As the wounded were tended to, Ditzy trotted up to him, her fur matted with blood and grime. She gave him a quick nuzzle before trotting off, her tail wagging as she headed in the direction of home. Elmore smirked, knowing Ash would be less than pleased at the state their loyal pitbull would be in when she arrived, but he could already see her cuts and burns healing. She’d earned a rest, just like he had.
Elmore turned to his men, his voice carrying over the quiet murmur of the battlefield. “The day is ours, boys. We won.” He let out a weary chuckle, glancing at his battered shotgun. “And I’m damn tired. I’m goin’ home to sleep.”
He picked up his shotgun, slinging it over his shoulder, and began the walk home. Ditzy trotted a few paces ahead, leading the way back toward the familiar dirt path, her ears twitching as if she understood the day’s significance. As they walked, Elmore’s mind drifted, reflecting on the strange path his world had taken. Battles waged with bullets and Aither, men with skin like metal, alliances and excommunications... It was all so surreal. Yet, beneath it all, a steady conviction rooted him: no matter how wild or chaotic the world became, he would stand firm, his people safe, their home strong. Everything was going to be alright.
Curious about his reward, he pulled up the Nexus, and the Immortal Structure Token appeared on his screen. A small sphere with the image of a structure pulsed softly, shifting in shape as he examined it. The symbol morphed, flickering between a house, a pyramid, a skyscraper, a castle, and a simple mountain hut. Each form seemed fractal and spider-webbed, glowing faintly as if alive with its own energy, crackling with tiny bolts of lightning.
Below the icon, a description appeared:
Immortal Structure Token: Grants one structure immunity to age and decay. The chosen structure will never rot, crumble, or be worn down by time or weather. The structure can only be entered by those you approve of. upgrades may be made as needed, but the foundation and walls will remain strong for eternity.
The power in such a token was remarkable, something that could be the foundation of a fortress, a place of safety in a world growing increasingly wild. Yet, Elmore didn’t linger long on the possibilities. The choice was simple.
Without hesitation, he connected the first token to his own home. The old coal miner’s house had stood for over a century and a half, its wood creaking, paint chipping, parts of it rotted from age and weather. It wasn’t grand, it wasn’t a fortress, but it was his. As long as he could repair it, keep it standing, he didn’t need anything more. A castle or a tower might be tempting, but he wasn’t a king, nor a lord. He was just a man, a husband, a father, a chief of his people. That was enough.
He could feel the subtle shift as the token took hold, a faint hum of energy settling over his home as he approached, the faint glow fading into the wood. The house felt solid, unyielding in a way it hadn’t before, like it was part of the land itself.
Elmore stepped inside, taking a deep breath, feeling the quiet comfort of the familiar. He didn’t think of the house as anything more than a home, but in doing so, he unknowingly carved out the beginnings of a legacy, a place that would stand for generations, something people might one day call legendary.
But to Elmore, it was simply home. And after a long day, that was all he needed.
Elmore trudged down the steps of his old house, weary but content, a sense of peace settling over him after the long and brutal day. As he opened the front door, he was greeted by an unexpected sound—the distinct hum of water running. He raised an eyebrow, following the noise down the hall, and opened the bathroom door.
Inside, Ash knelt by the tub, sleeves rolled up as she tried to keep a squirming, very unhappy Ditzy under control. The pitbull, normally fierce and relentless, looked utterly defeated, her ears flat against her head, her eyes pleading with Elmore as if he could somehow rescue her from the watery fate. Ash glanced up at him and broke into a smile. “Didn’t even know she left the house,” she said with a laugh, though her tone held a hint of exasperation.
Elmore chuckled, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s alright. She was… busy today,” he replied. “Helped us win, even. She earned a soak.”
Ditzy gave him a reproachful look, water dripping from her fur as she tried to edge away from the tub’s spray. Elmore just gave her an apologetic shrug before the rapid patter of little footsteps echoed down the hall.
“Dad?” Edward’s voice called, full of excitement and a touch of worry. “Did you win?”
Elmore turned, and his son rushed toward him, bright eyes wide with curiosity. Ignoring the dull, throbbing ache in his half-healed arm, Elmore scooped Edward up, swinging him around as he laughed. The pain shot through his shoulder, but he gritted his teeth and ignored it, cradling his son in his arms.
“Of course I won!” he said with a grin, brushing a stray curl from Edward’s forehead. “Just got a little bruised up, is all.”
Satisfied, Edward hugged him tight, a sigh of relief in the little boy’s grip. Elmore carried him into the living room, where he gently set him down on the couch. With a sigh, Elmore plopped down beside him, reaching over for the old mouse and keyboard hooked up to his computer.
“How ‘bout a movie?” he asked, a sly smile on his face.
“Yes!” Edward exclaimed, bouncing a little on the couch as Elmore pulled up one of his favorites—The Lion King, a classic that told a story of family, loyalty, and courage. As the familiar music started, Edward’s eyes went wide, and Elmore leaned back, his exhaustion melting away in the warmth of the moment. Ash eventually joined them, settling beside Elmore with a towel-wrapped Ditzy, who shook off as much water as she could before curling up by Elmore’s feet, still eyeing her bath-giver warily.
They spent the rest of the afternoon wrapped in cozy contentment, the glow of the movie casting soft shadows across the room. Laughter, the crunch of snacks, and quiet words filled the space as the family relaxed together, unwinding after a day marked by violence and triumph.
As evening deepened, Elmore tucked Edward into bed, brushing a kiss onto his son’s forehead as he murmured, “Goodnight, buddy. Sleep tight.”
Once Edward was sound asleep, Elmore drifted back outside, settling onto the old wooden porch. From his perch, he could see the steep hillside that fell away just past his home, row upon row of trees painted in the fiery hues of autumn. Reds, oranges, and yellows blazed in the fading light, turning the landscape into a masterpiece. Elmore leaned back with a sigh, the sharp tang of lemonade in his mouth and a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. For the first time in days, he didn’t need coffee to keep him awake.
The screen door creaked, and Ash joined him, slipping into the seat beside him. The two of them sat there in silence, watching as night settled over the valley, cloaking it in darkness. There was something peaceful, timeless in the quiet of the evening, as if the world itself had granted them this moment to breathe.
“Feels like we’re old folks sometimes, sittin’ here like this,” Ash murmured, leaning against him.
“Maybe we are,” Elmore replied with a small smile, exhaling a stream of smoke. “Just… young old folks.”
They stayed like that until the air cooled and the stars began to dot the sky. Finally, they stood and made their way back inside, the warmth of their home welcoming them in. Before heading to bed, Elmore checked in on Edward. The boy lay peacefully, his small chest rising and falling in the quiet room, but something unusual caught Elmore’s eye—a faint, blue glow.
Hovering just above Edward’s hand was a small wooden cube, carved and worn, glowing with soft symbols that seemed to shift and pulse with energy, similar to the strange spider-web patterns of the system’s recent updates. It drifted gently, suspended above Edward’s hand like a feather caught in a breeze.
Frowning, Elmore stepped closer, reaching out to touch it, but just as his fingers brushed the air near the cube, the glow vanished, the energy flickering out as the cube settled back into Edward’s hand, still and unassuming once more.
Quietly, he made his way back to the bedroom, finding Ash already there. She looked up, her brow furrowed as she noticed his expression. “Everything okay?”
Elmore nodded, sitting beside her. “Yeah… but there’s somethin’ I’ve been meaning to talk about. That cube Edward has… I saw it again just now. Glowing, like it’s alive or somethin’. And when I reached out, it just… disappeared.”
Ash’s eyes widened, her lips pressing together thoughtfully. “I’ve noticed it too. It’s strange, but never seemed… dangerous. I just didn’t think much of it.”
Elmore exhaled slowly, glancing at her. “It’s probably not Edward doin’ it. I think it’s the cube itself. Might be like my computer or some folks’ phones… maybe it got a spike of Aither somewhere along the way. Could be it’s somethin’ magical now, and we just don’t know what it’s meant to do.”
They both sat in silence, processing this. The more they thought about it, the more it seemed like the cube was a mystery all its own, a little relic in their son’s possession that neither of them fully understood.
After a few moments, Ash gave a resigned smile. “We’ll keep an eye on it, but as long as it doesn’t cause him any harm, I don’t think we need to worry. Maybe we can find someone with an ability that might be able to identify it. See if they know what it is.”
Elmore nodded, resting his hand over hers. “Agreed. It’s probably safe, but… best to know for sure.”
They sat together for a moment longer, the quiet of their home settling around them. Finally, they rose, fatigue pulling them toward the bed. As they entered their room and shut the door, the house fell silent, its sturdy walls embracing them in a protective calm.
And in the valley, night wrapped itself around the trees, the world slipping into stillness as they drifted into much-needed rest, a quiet moment of peace in a life touched by both magic and mystery.
Joy in the Valley
As the sun dipped behind the mountains, casting a warm golden glow over the quiet valley, Elmore could be found in the backyard, a broad smile etched across his face. At seven years old, Edward was a bundle of energy, his laughter echoing like the sweetest melody through the air. He darted around, chasing butterflies, his tiny legs moving with an exuberance that only children possess. Elmore, despite his weariness from the day's labors, couldn’t help but join in the fun.
“Catch me if you can, Dad!” Edward squealed, glancing back with eyes sparkling like the very stars that would soon grace the night sky.
Elmore chuckled, a deep, hearty laugh that filled the space around them. “Oh, I will, my boy! Just you wait!” He gave chase, a playful gleam in his eye, even as a twinge of pain shot through his side—a reminder of the scars from battles long past. But in that moment, nothing mattered more than the joy radiating from his son.
“Look, Dad! I can jump like a frog!” Edward proclaimed, crouching low before launching himself into the air, landing with a triumphant thud in a patch of grass.
“That was a mighty leap, son! I think you just broke the world record for frog jumping!” Elmore teased, panting slightly as he caught up.
“Really? Wow!” Edward’s face lit up with awe, momentarily forgetting the butterfly he’d been chasing. He loved to hear his father’s exaggerated tales, soaking up every word as if they were the most precious of treasures.
“Now, let’s see if you can jump over this log!” Elmore pointed to a sturdy piece of timber that had fallen during a recent storm, an obstacle that seemed monumental to Edward’s young mind.
“I can do it!” Edward declared confidently, puffing out his chest. With determination, he sprinted toward the log, feet pounding against the earth, and leaped with all his might.
He landed just shy of the log, tumbling forward and rolling in a fit of laughter. Elmore felt a warmth in his heart; the sound was infectious. “Looks like you need a bit more practice, champ,” he called, laughing alongside his son.
“Just a little! I’ll get it next time!” Edward replied, brushing off the grass and dirt, his spirit unbroken.
As they continued their playful antics, Ash watched from the porch, her heart swelling with pride and love. The scene before her—her husband and son basking in the glow of each other’s laughter—was a tapestry woven with joy. Elmore might have scars from a life of hardship, but those wounds were dwarfed by the love that filled their little family.
“You’re both going to wear yourselves out at this rate!” Ash called, her voice teasing yet filled with affection.
“Never!” Edward shouted back, determination etched on his youthful features.
Elmore, glancing at Ash, saw the adoration in her eyes. And ditzy soaking up the sun beside her “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” he admitted, his tone sincere. “Even when I’m hurt, just being here with you three makes it all worth it.”
Ash smiled, the light catching in her hair, making it glow. “That’s the magic of family, Elmore. It brings joy in the darkest times.”
And as the sun sank lower, the four of them—Elmore, Ash, Ditzy, and Edward—created memories, each moment a reminder of the love that bound them together in this ever-changing world, where magic and mystery were just beyond the horizon.
