The entire underground factory shook as the shadows shifted.
From the darkness above, where cables swayed about like iron vines, they could see something move. At first they could only here the sound, a metallic rasp, then Brimscythe eyes flared, it was now crimson, like burning charcoal.
Brimscythe descended.
The Draugr overlord's frame gleamed in fractured pulses of electricity. His armor was impressive, its sleek, obsidian black and traced with veins of red pulsing energy. Wings unfolded from his back with a hiss, thrusters humming, each blade was longer than a man was tall. His landing was regal, deliberate, as though a king stepping onto a battlefield he already owned.
The factory lights flickered, then dimmed, as though the vast machinery recognized its master.
Brynhild's fist clenched, her glove humming with restrained power. "Well," she said, her voice filled with reckless amusement, "that's new. A Draugr with style."
Runa's sensors whirred frantically, red warnings flashing across her vision. "Shit " she hissed, her tone sharp with alarm. "We should retreat. Immediately."
Brimscythe's eyes burned brighter. "Retreat? You've entered my sanctum, little one. You don't leave."
Without warning, his wings snapped outward. Compartments slid open along his back — and a storm of missiles screamed into the chamber.
"MOVE!" Runa shouted.
She shot upward, her thrusters igniting, twisting her through the air as explosions blossomed underneath her. Heat and shrapnel tore across the floor. Brynhild didn't dodge. She planted her feet, her glove igniting in a golden flare, and she punched through falling debris, smashing aside a steel beam before it could crush them both. The shockwave rippled, making some skeletal Draugr fall along the assembly lines.
Brimscythe hovered above, wings spread like a vengeful god. His voice rolled through the chamber: "You are insects. And insects burn."
The factory had become a war zone.
Missiles whined overhead, detonating in rapid succession. Sparks rained from destroyed conveyor belts. Mechanical arms where broken to pieces, spilling half-built Draugr to the ground.
Runa moved through the storm of missiles and chaos, she darted around like a hawk. Yet every evasive maneuver left her no time to counter. She gritted her teeth, eyes tracking the booms locked on to her. He's not just fast… he's reading me.
Brynhild charged forward, with glove blazing, leaping onto a broken crane. W
And with a roar, she launched herself upward — fist colliding with Brimscythe's descending strike. The impact sent shockwaves through the chamber, shattering glass and shaking the facility.
But she was the one who staggered back.
Brimscythe's strength was monstrous. Each blow hammered her, forcing her glove to flare at maximum output just to keep her bones from shattering. He drove her across the floor, his strikes precise, and with complete intent to kill.
Runa shouts will still trying to evade missile locked onto her. "You can't match him head-on! Fall back!"
Brynhild spat blood, grinning even as she bled from many area of her body. "Madness—" she slammed her fist against his armor again, "is what I do best!"
Brimscythe tilted his head, almost curious. "Fascinating. You suffer… and yet you laugh."
Then he struck her with a backhand so powerful it launched her into a conveyor line, crushing steel like paper.
Pain seared through Brynhild's ribs it was probably broken, but she staggered to her feet, her glove still sparking, both the weapon and the wielder are a tough but to crack. Across the chamber, Runa's fingers flew across an interface projected from her wrist.
"Come on, come on…" she whispered.
Her code dug into the factory's systems. Lights flickered, welding arms came to life, conveyor belts rolled violently. With a triumphant cry, she redirected the machinery, robotic arms swinging like clubs, drones snapping their optics toward Brimscythe.
"Now!" Runa shouted.
Brynhild launched forward. The mechanical storm forced Brimscythe to shift, his wings deflecting blows, his attention split. For the first time, they have him on the defensive.
Brynhild came at him, she roared, driving her fist into his chest plating with the force of a collapsing building.
The impact rang like thunder.
Brimscythe staggered back, his beautiful armor dented, the chamber shook as his talons scraped against the floor to keep balance.
Runa's optics widened. "We… we hurt him."
Brynhild smirked, blood streaking her chin. "Told you. Madness works."
"Quick let's finish him." Rúna says.
But Brimscythe's wings snapped outward again.
The factory fell silent for half a heartbeat.
Then Brimscythe lunged with anger.
The drones Runa had hijacked went dead all at ones. Brimscythe's systems surged, overriding her intrusion effortlessly. Machinery that were ones under Rúna's control all ground to a halt as though bowing to him.
Runa's eyes widened. "Oh no, we need to escape now."
He launched upward, then dove like a spear. Missiles fired in precise swarms, each one tracking Runa's heat signature. She twisted desperately, but three detonated near her, blasting her from the air. She crashed against the ground, skidding across the steel floor until her body slammed into a wall.
"RUNA!" Brynhild's screamed so loud her voice echoed the through the chamber.
But Brimscythe was already upon her. His movements blurred, his movement was impossibly fast. Every strike came with lethal precision, predicting her dodges, countering her attacks before she could make them. His claws ripped through both her skin and machinery, each missed blow gouging scars into steel thicker than a man's torso.
Brynhild swung her glove, but he caught her wrist mid-punch. His grip tightened, metal groaning as cracks spread across the glove's frame.
"You are strong for flesh," he said almost thoughtfully. "But strength without purpose is a waste of time."
With a twist, he flung her aside.
Brynhild crashed into a heap of half-built Draugr, bones aching, vision blurred. Brimscythe turned toward her — but Runa rose again.
Her body sparked with damage, coolant dripping from a gash across her shoulder, but her eyes burned with determination.
She extended her arm, ports opening, and connected directly to a data spike driven into the floor.
"Direct link established," her system tells her. "Engaging override…"
Brimscythe froze mid-step. His eyes flickered, his wings twitching erratically. His voice glitched, words stuttering.
"How…dare… you infect…."
Runa's processors roared at maximum capacity, her entire body shook with strain. Her code poured into Brimscythe's system, layer after layer unraveling.
Her goal? Well since he is so powerful to break from the outside then she'd break him from the inside.
"I almost have him!" she shouted, voice cracking. "Another few seconds—"
Then Brimscythe roared.
His body convulsed once, then steadied. His crimson eyes flared brighter than ever.
"Ahhhhhh" Brimscythe trys to break free.
The hack collapsed in an instant. Runa screamed as the feedback surged through her, sparks ripping across her frame. She fell to her knees, smoke rising from her body.
Brimscythe's gaze locked onto her with the focus that only a machine can have.
"You are going to be a problem, you should die first."
His wings ignited, missiles unfolding, claws poised. He dove straight for her, speed like lightning.
Brynhild staggered forward, glove sparking violently, as she intercepts him with a desperate roar. She met his claws head-on, sparks exploding as the glove cracked under the pressure.
"Run, Runa!" she screamed. "RUN!"
But Runa couldn't. She was too drained.
The battle spiraled into despair.
Brimscythe smashed Brynhild into a conveyor, pinning her down with crushing weight. Metal bent and groaned beneath them. She gasped, ribs threatening to snap, her glove flickering uselessly.
Runa lay battered on the ground, struggling to rise as Brimscythe's missile ports glowed with crimson light.
"I have played with you long enough this ends now," Brimscythe declared, from his voice years u just know that he can do that.
Brynhild's vision blurred. She tasted blood. So this is how it ends? Not with glory… not with triumph… but crushed under some tin god's heel…
Then the ceiling exploded.
The roof of the factory tore open in a blinding shower of light and steel. Sunlight flooded the chamber for the first time in decades.
Through the breach, a figure dove.
She moved with grace.
Brimscythe turned, launching missiles upward — but the she twisted between them, she evaded the with elegance.
She hit the ground in a crouch, then surged forward. In one smooth motion, she seized Brynhild under one arm, Runa under the other, and launched skyward before Brimscythe could react.
The factory roared with fury as Brimscythe unleashed a storm of fire, but they were long gone.
Wind tore past them as they burst into the open sky.
"Styrkar received your signal, Runa," the figure said, her voice calm despite the chaos. "He sent me. My name is Elin Ragnarsdóttir."
Brynhild, bruised and bloodied, forced her eyes open as the wind whipped against her face.
She stared at Elin — her strong jawline, her focused eyes, her beauty framed by the glow of her wings.
Despite the pain, Brynhild smirked faintly. What beauty… I hope she doesn't die fast.