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It was a hot, sunny day in Kaiskar, the empire's capital. As the most populated city on the continent, its busy streets were crowded with people brushing past each other.
The sun was nearing its peak as crowds gathered to witness the army's return from their eastern expedition.
"Make way!!"
A sudden shout rang out, and soldiers emerged, forming four lines along the road's edges to keep the center clear.
Two soldiers in decorated lamellar uniforms and chainmail rode large black horses, shouting,
"Long live His Majesty, Emperor Kaishi!
Victory for His Majesty!"
Not far behind rolled a carriage adorned with gold, silver, and a massive emerald atop it like a beacon, drawn by six magnificent chestnut horses.
At the sight of the imperial carriage, the crowd dropped to their knees until it passed.
Once the emperor's carriage disappeared, more carriages followed—but these were no grand displays. These were barred wagons—the "slaves' yoke," as people called them—filled with captives.
"BOOO!"
"Down with the heathens!"
"Kill them all!"
"Use them as fodder!"
The people jeered at the captives, hurling insults. Cheers followed as cavalry and infantry marched behind.
As the procession ended, the soldiers securing the roads returned to their posts, and the streets quickly refilled with civilians going about their business—though many followed the parade toward the inner castle, hoping for a glimpse of the emperor.
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"Transport the captives to the fodder ground. Sort them by age," ordered a soldier clad in silver armor.
Copper-armored soldiers swiftly formed squads and began dividing the captives by age, gender, and physical condition in a large courtyard. It took some time—there were many.
As the sun dipped lower, squad captains returned to report.
"Colonel Sabira, we counted three thousand captives: fifteen hundred working-age adults, five hundred children, two hundred adult males, and three hundred elderly," one captain said.
"Wow. They really didn't hold back. Serves those Moghol right for resisting the Empire," Sabira replied, scanning the captives with sharp brown eyes.
"Split the workers—half to the stables, half to the fields," she ordered. "Send the adult males to the Sorting. Children and elders go to the Magic Tower grounds."
"As you command, Colonel," the captain replied with a salute. She turned to her officers and relayed the orders.
Cries and screams broke out as soldiers began separating children from their parents.
Two copper-armored soldiers ran to their captain. "The captives are resisting."
The captains exchanged glances and nodded. "Bring them with the sacrifice to the site. The more, the merrier," one said with a chilling smile.
Following orders, the soldiers herded the captives toward the edge of the courtyard, where a wide road led to a towering black obelisk.
"The adults can live... for now. Shame they chose to cling to their dead weight," Sabira remarked, removing her silver-plumed helmet and turning to a nearby soldier in full white armor.
"Isn't that right, Captain of the Defense Corps—or should I say, Iron Lady?"
"It's their choice. And their fate," the Captain replied coldly.
"Oh, come on. You're always so icy. Just standing next to you cools me down," Sabira said with a teasing tone.
She handed her helmet to a retainer, revealing chocolate-brown skin and cropped black hair—a stark contrast to her shining armor.
"Let's head back and grab a meal. It's nearly clock-out time. By the way—anyone catch your eye this time?"
The Captain replied curtly that she had no time for such things.
"You better fix that attitude or you'll end up alone," Sabira said, trailing behind as the Captain walked ahead.
They neared the courtyard's edge when the sky rumbled—though no dark clouds were in sight.
"Those magicians again," Sabira muttered. "Weren't you one of the ones summoned back in the day? Gives me chills, those creepy magic types."
Rummmbleee...
Another rumble—louder and deeper. Both turned toward the black obelisk.
"Oh, my Emperor," Sabira breathed.
The obelisk was bathed in gray light from a swirling black cloud above it—a thirty-meter-wide portal, as if reality had been torn open. Lightning crackled at its edges.
From within the vortex came a deep, mechanical hum that grew louder.
Something emerged—gray, metallic, with two spinning rotors at the ends of thin arms stretched from either side of a large central cylinder.
"What is that? …!!!"
"Prepare for impact!"
"Sound the alarm!!"
Panic broke out as the object surged out of the portal, flying at blinding speed. The guards barely caught its shape as it tore overhead, heading eastward and vanishing in a blink.
Alarm bells rang across Kaiskar as the Iron Lady, deep in thought, murmured inside her helmet:
"Was that... an airplane?"
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