The wind howled across the cracked metallic sand as Commander Note sat atop his warhorse, surveying the landscape with a hardened expression. His army had been in formation for hours, stretching out in precise ranks, their armor gleaming under the dim, storm-ridden sky.
The land before them was no ordinary battlefield. This was a shard's domain—a broken fragment of divine energy that warped reality itself. And somewhere within this shifting wasteland of rusted gears and ancient machinery, the shard had awakened.
The proof was in the air.
A ripple of unnatural pressure pulsed through the realm, bending the wind in a way that made the soldiers uneasy. Even the more seasoned veterans of the Empire—men who had fought across countless dimensions—shifted in place, gripping their weapons tighter.
Note's piercing gaze locked onto the landscape before him. He had been in this situation before. When a shard fell, it was a race. Not just against time, but against everything that had felt its power—monsters, rival shard hunters, rogue sorcerers, and worse.
He had no intention of losing.
A scout galloped toward him, his horse kicking up metallic dust. "Commander! Our diviners have confirmed it—the shard has manifested in the heart of the domain."
Note barely reacted. He had already felt it. The sudden tremor in the world, the shift in gravity—it was always the same.
Another soldier rode up. "Sir, our long-range scanners have detected multiple hostiles approaching the shard's location. At least three separate forces—wild beasts, a group of hunters, and… something unknown."
Note exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he processed the report. Three factions.
The monsters were expected. Every time a shard fell, creatures drawn to power would swarm to it like flies to rotting meat. Some of them were mindless beasts—others were far worse. If something strong enough absorbed the shard, it would become a Shard Beast, an abomination of both flesh and divine energy.
That could not be allowed to happen.
The shard hunters were a problem. Mercenaries, scavengers, or rogue dimension hoppers hoping to claim power for themselves. Some were little more than raiders, others had serious backing—smaller kingdoms, criminal syndicates, or rebel factions hoping to seize divine relics for their own ends.
That, too, could not be allowed to happen.
But it was the third presence that troubled him the most. The unknown.
"Have our sensors picked up any clear readings on the third force?" Note asked.
"Not yet, sir," the soldier replied. "But… our augurs report anomalous fluctuations. Something or someone has already entered the realm."
That was fast, the empire mobilized an entire army to get here a quickly a possible.
Note turned to his officers, his voice calm but commanding. "We move immediately. The first wave will spread out and engage any hostile presence near the shard. Second wave, secure the surrounding terrain and cut off any escape routes."
His men saluted and rode off to relay his orders.
The hunt had begun.
The first units entered the domain, marching across shifting sands and broken gears. The landscape was constantlychanging, making navigation difficult. Certain sections of the ground rippledlikeLiquidMetal, while others were solid stone covered in rust.
Note rode behind the vanguard, keeping his forces organizedandefficient.
"Visual on the first targets!" a scout called out.
Ahead, apackofrougeMetalHounds—beasts mutated by corrupted energy—torethroughthewasteland, their elongated limbs and gaping maws dripping with ichor. They moved with unnatural speed, their black eyes gleaming with hunger.
Note gave a simple command. "Eliminate them."
The front-line spearmenbracedtheirweapons, forming a tight defensive wall as archers let loose their arrows. The first wave of enchantedprojectiles struck the beasts mid-leap, sending them crashing to the ground.
A few made it through.
One leaptfor a soldier'sthroat—only for Note to raise his hand, a pulse of energy flaring in his palm.
A crimsonarcofenergy sliced through the creature mid-air, splitting it in half.
The battle lasted only a few minutes. The Void Hounds were vicious, but notorganized. They fell swiftly under the disciplined assault of trained Imperial troops.
This was not the real battle.
This was justthebeginning.
Minutes later, another report came in. "Sir! A group of armedmen approaching from the east. At least twelve. Likely mercenaries."
"Formation?"
"Loose. No banners. They're moving fast—they're experienced."
That meant trouble.
Shard hunters with actual discipline were rarer than the average bandit but far deadlier.
Note raisedhishand, signaling for his troops to halt. He assessed the terrain ahead—a narrow corridor between two broken spires of metal.
Perfect.
"Prepare an ambush. Hold position."
His men meltedintotheterrain, taking cover behind ruins and rusted wreckage.
Minutes later, the shard hunters arrived. They were well-equipped, clad in light armor with weapons that glowedfaintlywithenchantment.
Magic users.
The lead mercenary slowed, scanning the area. He was cautious. He knew something was wrong.
That didn'tmatter.
Note gave the signal.
The Empire's forces struck like lightning.
Boltsofenergylashedoutfromhiddenpositions,strikingthehuntersbeforetheycouldreact. Arrows rained down. The front-line soldiers charged, their blades flashing in the dim light.
The shard hunters tried to regroup, their leader shouting orders—but it was too late.
Note drewhissword and dismounted, walking toward the battlefield.
One of the hunters—a swordsman with glowing runes on his gauntlets—lungedathim.
Note sidestepped, catching the man's wrist in a fluid motion. With a flick of his own blade, he severedthetendonsinthehunter'sarm.
The mercenary screamed,droppinghisweapon.
Another charged from behind.
Without turning, Note raisedahand,fingerssplayed. A pulse of energy erupted from his palm, sending the attacker crashingintothewreckagewithbone-snappingforce.
The battle was over in seconds.
Blood dripped from the rusted metal as the last few hunters collapsed, defeated.
Note exhaled, turning to his second-in-command. "Any survivors?"
"A few," the officer said. "What are your orders?"
Note gazed at the defeated men, then at the distant horizon where the shard's energy pulsed.
"Leave them," he said. "They're no longer a threat, and we don't have time to chase them."
The officer hesitated. "Sir?"
"Anyone strong enough to get back up from this can have a secondchance. If they want to fight again, let them. But we don't waste time on the weak."
With that, he turned away.
They had a moreimportantbattletowin.
Hours passed.
The Empire controlled the entireouterring of the domain. Every other faction had been crushed,scattered,orturnedaway.
Everything was in place.
They had sent soilders in to find the shard and eliminate anyone who slipped through their grasp.
All they had to do was wait.
Then—therealmtrembled.
Note feltitinstantly. A pulse of rawenergy surged through the land, distorting the air. Theshardhadbeenclaimed.
He turned toward the source, his expression darkening.
"Sir," one of his officers stammered.
"Someone has—"
"I know," Note cut him off.
A new energy signature flared on his magical sensors.
Something hadchanged.
And then—therealmitselfbegantocollapse.