I slammed the machine's head into the ground and backed off fast. The hardlight bat dissolved, shifting into a wide, curved shield just in time to intercept the claws of two more errant machines. With a quick command, the shield extended outward and bashed them back, throwing both off balance. I was starting to gain a real appreciation for close-combat fighters—this was exhausting.
I twisted around to make sure nothing was coming from behind, then reshaped the shield into a sword and brought it down hard, cleaving straight through one machine's leg. It crumpled, sparks and fluid spilling from the ruined joint. The blade cut clean, but my arms still screamed in protest. Even with the supernatural sharpness of hardlight, every movement was taking more out of me than I expected.
Okay. I might've overestimated myself.
I'd taken out maybe ten, give or take, but I was already out of breath. Every inhale scraped the inside of my lungs, and my grip kept slipping on the hilt. How the hell did Rambo make this look easy?
I checked behind me again, then darted through a narrow gap in the concrete. I slid sideways through the gap, pushing past broken rebar and sharp angles until I found a spot to stop and breathe. The horde had thinned—definitely. I'd bought myself some space. But not enough. I still hadn't seen a clean opening to escape.
I was getting closer, though. Maybe. The problem was, the longer this dragged out, the worse it got. I wasn't sure if these machines were properly sentient, but they were starting to act like it. After the first few kills, they'd gone from aimless to focused, tracking me with something that looked a lot like anger. One of them had even tried to drag me down while it was dying, locking its claws around my ankle as its eyes dimmed.
Alright. Deep breaths. Just a few more.
I crouched low and stayed still, letting my breath settle. I focused, letting my hearing stretch out across the ruins. Enhanced or not, it still took effort to sort noise from jibberish, but having nigh-perfect human hearing had its perks. Assuming I survived, I'd have to remember to appreciate the upgrade later.
I tuned out my own heartbeat and listened. When I concentrated, the machines were easy to detect—the weight of their steps, the grind of metal joints. As long as I stayed focused, I could hear them coming from a good distance.
Which made the silence around me unsettling.
No footsteps. No motion. Nothing shifting in the rubble nearby.
Had they lost me?
I leaned forward and slowly peeked out from the crevice. Still nothing. No machines in sight.
Then something slammed in the distance—a sharp, echoing bang that cut through the quiet.
Metal clanged against metal, sharp and violent. The machines were moving again, but something was off. Their rhythm didn't sound like pursuit. It was chaotic, clustered. Something else was drawing their attention.
I crept forward, easing out from the gap and circling back toward the area where the machines had been gathering earlier, having their weird little orgy.
And stopped.
Two redheaded girls were absolutely tearing through the machines like paper.
Androids—probably. That was the only explanation that made sense, considering they were tossing around machines that weighed several hundred pounds. Each swing from them ended in sparks and shattered metal.
I stayed low and watched, amazed.
It was hard not to feel a little embarrassed. I'd nearly passed out just from killing a few machines, and here they were, cleaving straight through dozens without even slowing down. But even with my ego taking a hit, it was hard not to be impressed.
I didn't know much about Nier—just a few blurry clips I half-remember from over the years. Still, none of those clips could prepare me for this. On the surface, they looked like completely normal human girls.
They were beautiful—almost unreal, like models touched up in post-production.
Both had striking red hair, the kind that shimmered even under ruined skylight, one with long straight strands, the other with loose wavy hair that bounced with each movement. Even from this distance, I could make out the clear green of their eyes, bright and glasslike, shining like crystals.
It was obvious they were twins. Everything about them matched—height, build, movement—except for the slight difference in their hair.
Both wielded their blades with practiced precision, moving in a coordinated rhythm that gave the machines almost no room to counter. I didn't see any of those floating support drones I vaguely remembered from the clips, and there weren't any visible firearms either, which struck me as odd, considering I figured androids like them would be packing beam weapons or something similar.
Either way, it looked like they didn't need help, but I wasn't about to stand around doing nothing.
I checked the charge level running through my arm, taking a brief moment to feel out the energy flow beneath the metal. All the melee I'd done earlier had built up a respectable reserve, and without the immediate threat of being overrun, I could afford to use some of it now.
No reason to hold back now.
The battlefield was a chaotic blur of movement and metal, and I could barely keep track of the twins in the thick of it. It probably wasn't a good idea to aim anywhere near them, just in case. I shifted my focus to a cluster of smaller machines skittering along the rubble and narrowed my eyes, already feeling a grin spread across my face.
With far more control than I'd managed during my first attempt, I unleashed a burst—twelve rapid flashes of condensed golden light that cracked through the air like thunder. These weren't the piercing beams that had sliced straight through everything before, but I'd pumped enough energy into them to cause some heavy damage.
Machines staggered and dropped, some losing limbs, others tumbling over as their joints exploded in sparks. It wasn't as clean or final as cutting them down outright, but it still felt damn good to watch them collapse under the assault.
The charge kept flowing, and I gave in to the rush. Golden beams arced across the edges of the battle as I targeted every machine outside the twins' immediate radius, volley after volley slamming into the enemy ranks. There was something pure in the act of blowing up evil machines and I couldn't help the grin that kept stretching wider across my face.
Because seriously, what kind of man wouldn't enjoy firing goddamn lasers?
At one point, one of the twins glanced in my direction, and I caught her eye. I raised a hand in a casual wave, still laughing as I dropped another machine trying to flank from the side. They probably thought I was out of my mind, and maybe I was, but in that moment, I didn't care.
The craziness of everything was finally starting to catch up to me. While I knew there were probably better, healthier ways to cope with the sheer absurdity and stress of it all, none of those came close to the raw joy of unleashing a searing beam of destruction across a battlefield.
I laughed again, head tilted back, and let loose a long, focused blast that slagged an entire trio of machines in a single pass, molten metal splashing across the broken ground as they fell.
I couldn't say how long I kept firing. But eventually, the internal hum in my arm began to fade, the last of the energy flickering out as the charge finally ran dry.
The battlefield was littered with broken frames and smoldering holes, dozens of machines punctured or melted down to their cores. I couldn't help but feel a flicker of satisfaction. My control had definitely improved, and the results spoke for themselves. With more practice, I could take it even further. The potential with hardlight felt endless, and the thought of what I could eventually pull off made me giddy.
Might've gotten a little carried away, though.
A quiet cough pulled me out of the trance, and I turned to see two redheads—both staring at me with matching expressions that landed somewhere between amusement and confusion. Not exactly the kind of impression I was hoping to make.
Right. I probably looked insane.
Say something cool.
"Bite my shiny metal ass, machines!"
Oh God. That was unbelievably cringe.
Fuuuck.
The one with straight hair covered her mouth; the other broke into giggles.