Firelight wavered inside the broken dome, crawling across the ruins like something alive. The camp burned in colors of red and gray, shadows stretching long and crooked against the shattered glass.
Vorn struck first.
His boosters shrieked, cutting through the quiet. In a single burst, he shot forward, blade drawn. The Construct caught the swing with its fractured sword, metal meeting plasma in a violent clash that sent sparks raining across the ash.
The sound tore through the night.
The next moment, the shockwave followed, barrels rolling, crates tumbling, flames leaping higher as oil spilled into the fire. Heat wrapped around everything like a suffocating blanket.
But Vorn didn't stop.
He twisted on his heel and drove a kick straight into the Construct's chest. It managed to raise its sword in defense, the impact rang like thunder. but the force pushed it back, staggering.
Its sword gave a painful creak. A thin crack spread through the steel, then split completely. The blade shattered, scattering shards that caught the light before fading into the dust.
Vorn grinned, his half-metal face glinting. His crimson eyes burned with wild glee. "Finally got ya!"
He lunged again, boosters roaring to life, air snapping under the force.
But the Construct reacted.
It moved with sudden, brutal precision, slamming the broken hilt straight into Vorn's cybernetic arm. The hit sank deep. The captain's grin froze for a split second, then broke. Blue sparks spilled out, wiring flashed, and his mechanical joint screamed.
"You—!" Vorn's voice broke, laced with static.
The Construct didn't pause. It pressed forward, striking fast, methodical. A fist cracked into Vorn's face. Another hit his ribs. Then a knee slammed into his chest, followed by an elbow that sent his jaw snapping sideways.
Each blow was calculated yet fierce, shaped by countless virtual battles. The rhythm, coded deep in the Construct's core, never wavered.
The hilt dug deeper into Vorn's arm with each strike, grinding through wires until the joint gave out.
Vorn stumbled back, crimson energy flaring from his organic arm. He roared, a primal sound echoing through the dome. His aura coated arm swung wildly, scorching the air.
The Construct blocked with its scarred arm. Sparks flared, lighting the camp briefly. Its systems strained, servos whining under Vorn's power.
Then it countered.
Three strikes in a flash. Throat, ribs and jaw. Vorn reeled back, dizzy and bleeding. The Construct grabbed the hilt still buried in his arm, twisted hard, and tore it free.
The arm came off with a shriek of tearing metal. Oil sprayed, sparks hissed. The severed limb hit the ground first, followed by Vorn himself, choking, one hand clawing at the dirt.
Silence settled, broken only by the crackling flames.
The Construct stood over him, still. Smoke rose from its battered frame, its visor dim, catching the fire's faint glow.
From the dome's edge, prisoners emerged, their bodies trembling in the haze. Lira led them, her hands steady despite bruised wrists, supporting Lady Aurelia Valen. Three women in tattered cruiser uniforms followed, clinging together, eyes wide with fear and faint hope.
Aurelia's hair, once bright silver, now smeared with ash. Her emerald eyes flickered faintly with static beneath the grime. Still, she looked at the Construct and somehow managed a weak smile. "Thank you… whoever you are."
Her voice, raw from electric shocks, held quiet strength. "Um… can you tell me what unit you're from? Your model, maybe?"
The Construct tilted its head, its visor flickering as it scanned her. It stayed silent, its quiet heavier than the wind.
Aurelia flushed, uneasy under its gaze. "O-Oh, um… please stop scanning, that's rude?"
For the first time, the Construct seemed uncertain. Its head tilted slightly, servos humming faintly, as if puzzled by her words.
Lira stepped forward, voice low but firm. "My lady, please be careful. We aren't sure what it is." She glanced at the Construct, wary but grateful. "But still… thank you for saving us."
The Construct's visor flickered, but it gave no reply.
A sharp whine broke the silence.
Engines roared, and the ground shook as the pirates' ship, its hull damaged but functional, rose from the wreckage.
Vorn wasn't finished.
Through the cracked cockpit, his mangled body could barely stand. One arm gone, blood and oil dripping from the stump. His voice bled through the comms, crackling with static and hate. "Did… you really think… you can kill me, you fucking piece of scrap?"
The ship hovered, panels opening to reveal a photon cannon. Energy gathered, a blinding sphere pulsing like a dying star. The air buzzed with static.
"DIE!"
"Run!" Lira shouted, grabbing Aurelia's arm.
The women scattered, panicked. One tripped and fell, another cried out, clutching her head.
Aurelia turned, eyes wide with horror. "That's… that's a photon cannon!" she yelled. "It'll vaporize everything!" She tried to run toward the Construct, but Lira pulled her back, voice breaking. "You can't! my lady!"
The Construct stood firm, its visor locked on the ship.
It glanced at Vorn's severed arm, still sparking in the dirt. Kneeling, it picked up the limb and activated its energy blade, which glowed soft blue against its cracked frame.
The cannon's whine peaked, its light blinding. The women clung to the ground, terrified.
The cannon fired.
A beam of light ripped through the dome, burning ash and metal. The air screamed, the ground trembling.
The Construct moved.
Its systems aligned, every joint, every circuit, every piece of its code uniting. A billion simulated battles flashed in its core, where it forged it's own technique.
It was a move of pure precision, honed through endless conflict. Motion so perfect it bent space itself.
New Horizon.
The Construct swung the blade.
The very air twisted.
The photon beam split, sliced cleanly as if by an unseen force. The ship followed, its hull cut in two with flawless precision. No explosion, no debris, just two halves sliding apart, crashing into the dust with a dull thud.
No one breathed.
Ash fell like gray snow, blanketing the wreckage.
Lira stared, voice shaking. "A… an Imperial-grade droid?"
The other captives huddled together, their eyes filled with awe and fear.
Only Aurelia stood tall. Her gaze followed the Construct's stance, seeing the elegance in its violence, the logic in its motion. To her, it wasn't destruction, it was art.
The Construct lowered its arm, the blade dimming. Its torn cloak fluttered in the breeze.
Aurelia's lips parted. "Beautiful…" she whispered.
The Construct turned its visor toward her. For a moment, a faint light pulsed within, not emotion, but something close.
Then it turned, boots crunching through ash, heading toward the horizon.
Aurelia stepped forward, voice trembling. "Wait! Where are you going? Please... please hold on for a minute!"
The machine paused, head tilting as if considering her words. The wasteland grew still, only the wind's faint howl breaking the quiet.
A low hum rose from the sky, patrol ships, their lights piercing the storm clouds.
Aurelia's shoulders relaxed, relief softening her face, but her eyes stayed on the Construct. "Please," she said softly. "Come with us. You saved us so, let me reward you."
The Construct stood silent, perhaps it saw something through the lady it couldn't explain or analyzed.
Faced with this predicament, it took a step toward the approaching ships.