The dome's remains still flickered with faint blue embers. The rails had collapsed into molten trenches. The gears—once towering and divine—lay scattered as warped fragments cooling in the open air. Nothing was left of the battlefield. Not bodies. Not armor. Not even bones. Only ash carried by the faint wind.
Karl stepped out of Erevos's cockpit, one boot landing in the warm dust that used to be people—fighters, survivors, strangers who'd stood their ground against impossible odds.
He knelt.
Not because anyone asked him to.
Not because he needed to.
But because it was the only thing he could still give them.
The heat stung his face. His arms trembled from the strain of Gearstorm Nova and Blueprint Overdrive, but he pressed his palm to the ruined earth anyway.
"…I'm sorry," he whispered.
No theatrics. No breaking voice.
Just a quiet apology carried into a sky turning pale with dawn.
He bowed his head lower.
"They deserved more than this. More than dying alone. More than becoming ash under my—"
He stopped. The words caught, not in grief, but in the weight of responsibility he couldn't shake.
Agnes, inside Erevos, didn't speak. Not a joke, not a tease, not a feral growl. She simply listened—still, silent, respectful.
Karl exhaled shakily.
"If heaven's real… if something's up there…"
He looked at the empty horizon, eyes narrowed with resolve.
"—then take them. All of them. Every last one who fought today. They earned a place better than this ruined world."
The wind shifted, carrying the ashes in a soft drift past him. For a moment, it almost looked like they were being lifted… taken.
He let out a small breath. Not relief—just acceptance.
Karl tightened his gloves, stood slowly, and wiped his hands on his coat.
"Thank you," he said to the empty air, to the ashes, to the people no one would ever recognize again. "For holding on long enough for me to get here."
Erevos's chestplate hummed softly, a quiet mechanical acknowledgment—Agnes giving him space he didn't have to ask for.
Karl turned away from the remains and began walking back toward the mech.
He didn't cry.
He didn't collapse.
He simply carried the weight with him—like he always had.
The dust finally settled.
The dome was gone.
The demons were dust.
The air still shimmered with hanging nanites that hadn't yet realized the battle was over.
Karl leaned against Erevos's leg, the mech's cooling vents still sighing like a tired beast. He lowered his head, letting the silence settle.
There were no bodies. No broken armor. No scattered weapons.
The Blueprint Overdrive had annihilated everything—right down to ash.
The dome was gone, reduced to drifting silver motes that faded into the wind like haunted stardust. Not even ash remained — Blueprint Overdrive had atomized everything inside. The battlefield was empty, silent, and impossibly clean.
Karl stood in the center of it, hands clasped in front of him, head bowed.
No bodies.
No wreckage.
Just memory.
Karl placed a hand over his heart.
"…Heaven," he muttered under his breath"
"…Heaven, take them. The brave ones. The ones who deserved better."
"Every last one. They deserved better than this hell."
He whispered it quietly, almost embarrassed by the softness in his voice. Erevos stood still, reverent. Even Agnes, who normally panted and purred after every fight, went quiet for a few seconds.
A rare silence.
A rare moment.
For a long moment, the world was quiet.
Then Agnes flickered into view.
Her avatar appeared on his visor with a deliberately gentle expression — soft eyes, soft glow, soft tone.
Agnes (quiet; almost human):
"Karl… it's time to go."
He nodded once.
The moment passed.
The mourning settled in his chest like cooling steel.
The last of the ashes drifted away on the wind.
Karl sighed, rolled his shoulders, and climbed back into Erevos's cockpit. The mech sealed around him with a soft hydraulic hiss, lights humming back to life. Agnes flickered into his HUD—her usual smug, glowing avatar reappearing.
Then—
A soft digital popping sound. Agnes's avatar flickered into Karl's HUD with a bright smile.
Agnes (suddenly cheerful):
"Sooo~ what's the plan now, my lovely little demolition engine?"
Karl cracked his neck.
"…Tokyo. Straight to Aya Tower."
Agnes froze mid-animation.
Her avatar blinked twice.
"…Karl."
"Yes?"
"Do you… know how far Tokyo is from here?"
Karl shrugged.
"Japan is small."
Agnes pinched the bridge of her digital nose.
"Karl. Sweetheart. Philly is not Japan."
"…Okay but still."
She held up a glowing gear-map of the world.
A bright line traced from New Jersey → over the Pacific → to Tokyo.
Agnes:
"Soooo~ Karl. Quick question."
Karl exhaled heavily.
"…What?"
Agnes tilted her head, fingers tapping a floating gear icon like she was drumming her nails on a table.
"How exactly… do you plan on getting to Tokyo?"
Karl blinked slowly, exhausted.
"…We… fly?"
A pause.
A long pause.
Then she burst out laughing.
"PFFFF—"
She doubled over, clutching her stomach, glitch-laughing in bursts of static sparks.
"FLY?! YOU THINK—WE—CAN—FLY—THAT FAR?!"
Karl squinted at her. "…Yes?"
Agnes wiped a tear from her digital eye.
"Karl. My dear. My sweet. My extremely confident but numerically illiterate Karl."
She popped a window open beside her — a Vythra bar at 11%, flickering, almost flatlining.
Agnes:
"Even if we had 100% Vythra… full tank… zero damage… we STILL wouldn't make it halfway to Tokyo."
"Erevos would get maybe one quarter of the way there before collapsing like a dying toaster."
Karl:
"…Why?"
Agnes widened her eyes like she couldn't believe the question.
"Because THIS version of Erevos runs ENTIRELY off YOUR Vythra."
She points at him accusingly.
"And YOUR Vythra capacity is basically a slightly angry AA battery right now."
Karl froze.
"…Oh."
Agnes, smug:
"Yes. OH."
Karl frowned.
"But this version flies! The thrusters just need—"
Agnes cut him off, pointing to a flashing warning on the HUD:
Vythra Output: 11%
Flight Capacity: 0%
Attempting flight = immediate death
Agnes (mock sympathy):
"Karl… baby… we can't even hover right now. If we tried to fly across the ocean, we would drop into the Atlantic like a depressed vending machine."
Karl stared at the screen.
"…So we walk?"
Agnes nodded proudly.
"Yes, Karl. We travel city to city. Like normal, responsible murder-tourists."