"When the heavens descend in iron and shadow, mortals learn that survival is not granted, it is taken back from the jaws of annihilation."
Despair Caused by War
A survivor crouched beside the shattered frame of what used to be a noodle stall on Ratchadamnoen Avenue, fingers trembling as he sifted through broken bowls and debris - searching for anything he could still salvage. Hours ago, this road had been alive. Now it was a graveyard of cracked pavement and smoldering storefronts, the air thick with ash and the metallic scent of ruptured myth-tech wards.
He had just pried loose a half-burned tarp when the world above him shifted.
A shadow - vast, cold, and cathedral-sized passed over the ruined street. Light dimmed as the darkness swallowed the sky.
The survivor looked up.
Black plating eclipsed the heavens. Serrated prows. Hulls like blades drawn by a titan's hand. The Obsidian Wing, followed by its sister behemoths, carved across the firmament like a god's smile turned cruel.
For a heartbeat, he thought he was already dead.
Then a myth-tech engine roared overhead.
The blast hurled him backward into a collapsed wall. Shattered beams groaned. A wave of dust and hot wind rolled through the ruins, toppling what was left of market stalls. Wood splintering like ribs crushed under a giant's heel. Bananas and papayas spilled across the gutter, instantly seared into steam by a stray tracer that burned a molten line through a fallen signboard.
He tasted copper. Ozone. Smoke.
When he forced his eyes open, he saw streaks of blue fire rising from beyond the river. Republic fighters, Thai interceptors, myth-tech wings joining the sky.
And far above them all, arcs of war-light clashed in furious bursts.
The survivor clutched the cracked concrete beneath his palms, breath shaking, as he realized:
The battle for Bangkok wasn't over.
It was only becoming worse.
Fire Over the Chao Phraya
The sky tore open with violence.
The first exchange between fleets struck like the ignition of a new sun. Blinding arcs, shockwaves, and the thunder of myth-tech weaponry drowning out every sound in the broken city below.
The Adarna led the charge.
Her forward batteries lit the clouds in a sweeping fan of blue-white fury. Myth-Tech Machine Guns spat streams of incandescent rounds, each bullet trailing a ribbon of searing light that carved across the underbellies of the nearest Anino Sky Destroyers. The impacts bloomed into bursts of fractured metal and broken glyph-plates.
But the Anino were ready.
A dozen Sky Destroyers shifted into a predatory spread, their black hulls splitting open as Myth-Tech Gatling Cannons rotated into position, spinning so fast the barrels melted the mist around them.
Their return fire stitched lines of red-hot death across the sky.
Bolts of burning metal tore through cloudbanks.
Stray tracer rounds punched into the city below, smashing through weakened rooftops and blasting craters into already collapsed streets.
Far above, Captain Jirawat's golden fleet peeled into a vertical maneuver.
"ALL THAI WINGS—FAN OUT! FORM THE LOTUS SHIELD!" his voice thundered across every comm channel.
Temple-class carriers swung wide, creating a rotating ring around the Adarna. Their broadside Machine Guns opened at once. Thousands of rounds forming a lattice of golden fire that intercepted the next wave of Anino missiles.
Explosions rippled like a storm of shattered suns.
Joaquin's voice cut through the comms immediately:
"Adarna, full advance!
Republic Wings, FORWARD PHALANX!"
The Adarna surged ahead, myth-tech engines roaring like thunder.
Her prow-mounted Laser Cannons flared thin blades of white-hot ruin that sheared clean through an approaching Sky Destroyer. The beam cut the vessel in half, metal shrieking as both halves fell burning into Bangkok's riverfront.
The victory lasted half a breath.
Because from the center of the Anino formation,
THE OBISDIAN WING FIRED.
A deep pulse emanated from the flagship, as if reality itself inhaled before impact.
Then, a railgun blast burst forward in a straight, impossible line. A streak of pitch-black force cracked the air like a whip.
The shot punched through a Republic carrier's shields and tore a molten wound into its armor.
The entire starboard hull detonated.
A flaming mass spiraled downward, crashing into the remains of a shopping district already gutted by the Pretas. A chain of explosions ripped through the lower decks, sending debris scattering into the streets like falling shrapnel.
The shockwave was felt across the entire front.
Joaquin braced himself against the command rail as the Adarna shuddered.
"All ships—WATCH THAT FLAGSHIP! The Obsidian Wing carries long-range breaching artillery!"
Captain Jirawat cut in.
"Thai Wings, INTERCEPT THEIR UPPER FORMATION!"
His interceptors burst forward like golden arrows, engines screaming as they dove into the swarm.
But the Silencer moved in silence - eerily, impossibly so.
It drifted through the battlefield like a blade of shadow.
Panels shifted open.
A battery of Missile Systems activated. Six simultaneous launches arcing downward in perfect unison.
The missiles left trails of red glyph-fire as they raced toward the Republic squadrons.
The Adarna reacted first.
"Countermeasure net!" Joaquin ordered.
A grid of myth-tech flares burst outward, detonating like miniature suns. The missiles slammed into the countermeasures and disintegrated into clouds of sparking dust.
But the reprieve ended instantly.
More Anino Destroyers dove into the fray.
Railgun slugs ripped between airships like meteor streaks.
Black-plated fighters swarmed Thai carriers, peppering their armor with Gatling fire.
The air battle devolved into chaos. A labyrinth of burning metal, spiraling debris, and neon-lit arcs of myth-tech destruction.
Below, the city trembled under each impact.
A Thai gunship split open midair, spilling flaming wreckage into a temple courtyard. Stone pillars collapsed in waves. Myth-tech shielding sputtered as scorch marks spread across sacred walls already damaged by the breach.
The sky was becoming a graveyard.
Yet neither side yielded.
The Adarna pitched upward sharply and dropped into a sweeping dive, her broadside Machine Guns unleashing a storm that shredded two Destroyers attempting to flank the Thai formation.
Captain Saengthong's fleet moved with equal ferocity.
His emerald gunships banked hard, swinging beneath the enemy line. Their side-mounted Laser Cannons fired in a synchronized volley of precise beams slicing through an entire row of Anino fighters.
"Maintain pressure!" the captain barked. "Do not allow them to regroup!"
The Anino answered with overwhelming force.
From behind their front line, a second tier of Sky Destroyers unleashed a circular barrage. Railguns firing in full rotation, the crack of each kinetic lance shaking the entire sky.
One Thai interceptor took a direct hit.
The railgun slug blasted through its cockpit, and the fighter blossomed into fire, spiraling downward toward the river. The impact sent a geyser of steam and water erupting into the air.
Joaquin grit his teeth as another railgun blast sliced past the Adarna's hull.
"Obsidian Wing is targeting command ships!" an officer shouted.
"Then we take the hit for them," Joaquin replied.
He seized the helm.
"BRACE FOR IMPACT!"
The next railgun slug struck the Adarna's forward plating.
The explosion thundered across every deck. Fire control systems screamed. Corridors flooded with smoke. Officers steadied themselves against collapsing rails.
But the Adarna did not fall.
Joaquin wiped blood from his brow.
"We hold the line."
---
On the ground, the Sandata Unit felt every blast as shockwaves rolled through the fractured streets.
The frontline trembled.
Dust rained from shattered rooftops.
Engineered Relic Wielders advanced in unison, their steps synchronized like a metal heartbeat.
Prasert shouted above the chaos.
"Hold the line! Bangkok still stands!"
Renato slammed the Kalasag into the ground, deflecting the next volley of enemy fire.
Agosto flash-stepped into a pack of Engineered Soldiers, slashing crimson arcs that broke through their armor.
Gregorio, still recovering, steadied himself on one knee.
Above them, flaming debris from the aerial clash streaked down like falling meteors.
Still, they held.
But the line buckled slowly under the pressure.
And far above, the air battle raged in a storm of light and metal
that showed no sign of ending.
The City That Refuses to Die
Bangkok no longer resembled a city.
It was a maze of collapsed temples, shattered market roads, burning overpasses, and ruptured districts still trembling from the earlier breach. Smoke drifted in fractured columns, swirling through broken pagoda roofs and skeletal towers. The air tasted of ash, rust, and the metallic bitterness of myth-tech collisions overhead.
And in the ruins... the ground war had begun again.
Agosto Santos cleaved through the first Engineered Wielder that dropped from the sky. The Kampilan ni Lam-Ang tore a red arc from shoulder to hip, the enemy collapsing into distorted sparks. But another landed behind him, then two more, their boots cracking the pavement as their relic-forged blades pulsed with hostile resonance.
"Goyo! Renato! On me!" Agosto shouted, pivoting sharply.
He blink-stepped to avoid a downward strike that cratered the road, then countered with a tight teleport slash - two meters, precise - cutting through the air like a furnace-hot blade of folded space. The impact blasted debris into the air.
Renato absorbed a shockwave meant for Prasert, his Kalasag flaring blue in perfect refraction. The counter-force erupted forward, hurling three attackers into the remains of a collapsed barber shop.
"Wall of Giants - forward sweep!" Renato commanded.
A towering glyph-plane of kinetic force surged outward, assailants were blasted and scattered like bowling pins. Dust rolled across the street. Shrapnel clattered like hail.
Prasert Rattanachai charged beside him, the golden light of the Phra Saeng Khan Chaiyasi cutting trails through the haze. Every swing dissolved hostile constructs; every parry left radiant crescents floating in the smoke.
Behind them, the remnants of the Royal Guardian Corps formed what was left of a defensive perimeter. Shields trembling, breaths ragged, armor dirty and scorched. They were fewer than before. Blood streaked their plating. Several stood only because retreat meant death.
"Hold the line!" a lieutenant roared. "Bangkok still stands as long as we stand!"
But the Anino's Engineered Soldiers advanced with calculated precision. Their fall from the airships orchestrated like a needlepoint assault. They moved in triads, relics humming with the artificial resonance.
A Guardian was struck with a relic hammer which launched him darting into a wall, shattering it in the process. Another screamed as a suppression blade carved through his shoulder armor, dropping him to his knees.
Renato caught him before he could fall. "Medic!" he barked, then shoved the Guardian toward a safe pocket behind overturned transports.
When Prayers Move Heaven's Silent Hand
Back at the Biñan Safehouse, Kristel kneeled on the living room floor, knees drawn close, eyes locked onto the holographic projector as the ATN International feed flickered with static. The lights were dim; only the glow of the broadcast illuminated her face.
On the newsfeed, Rico Velasquez clung to the side of a circling ATN chopper, his voice cracking over the roar of engines and explosions.
The camera jolted violently as a myth-tech beam from an Anino Sky Destroyer cut across the skyline, tearing through three buildings like paper.
Kristel flinched. Her hands clasped tightly, knuckles pale, and trembling.
She remained knelt before the screen, watching a war she could not reach,
praying for a man whose survival felt heavier than fate itself.
The Heaven's Listened
Gregorio Aguilar slowly pushed himself up from the shattered pillar where he had collapsed during cooldown. His breath trembled, but he did not fall. The world steadied around him.
The divine glow was gone, but Kamay ni Bathala still pulsed - slow, steady, and alive.
Agosto saw him rise. "Goyo! Are you stable?"
Gregorio flexed his fingers once. His voice was hoarse but controlled. "I can fight."
Prasert exhaled, relief flickering behind his fatigue. "Good. Because Bangkok is slipping."
The words became real as another wave of Engineered Wielders surged forward. Their boots cracked open the asphalt. Their relics burned with hostile red circuitry and stolen resonance patterns. They were faster than Echoes. Stronger than Pretas. And unlike ruptured creatures—they fought with strategy.
One launched into the air, fist aimed downward. A red shockblast detonated on impact, hurling Guardians aside like dolls.
Gregorio didn't hesitate.
KISAP MATA.
He vanished.
Reappeared behind the attacker.
Echo Projection flared instinctively - three perfectly synchronized afterimages punching in unison.
The Engineered Wielder was struck, each blow shattered bones to powder, and launched him backward, smashing into a broken traffic rail.
"On me!" Gregorio ordered, voice sharpening.
Prasert leapt onto a toppled bus, blade erupting in Sovereign Radiance as he slashed downward, cutting through an enemy triad in a burst of gold.
Agosto blink-stepped between two falling attackers, cleaving one mid-air and kicking the other into a shattered shrine wall.
Renato anchored the Kalasag again. Blue light slamming deep into the ground. "Anchor Pulse!"
The Shield Wielding Royal Guardians around him were reinforced, turning them into moving statues of defense.
"PUSH!"
"For the Kingdom!"
Gregorio struck forward, violet fist smashing into an enemy's relic shield. It's shattered pieces flew along with its owner.
Another tried to flank him but Prasert blurred past, carving a radiant crescent that dissolved the attacker in a clean arc.
Agosto skid-slid across debris, bracing his Kampilan.
"Flame Spiral!"
A vortex of crimson fire exploded outward, sweeping aside a cluster of hostile fighters.
Above them, the sky thundered with the ongoing dogfight.
Aircraft streaked past in burning trails. Myth-tech Gatling volleys stitched flaming lines across the clouds. Missiles detonated in blossoms of orange and violet. Railgun rounds punched through the air like streaks of falling stars. The shockwaves rolled across the streets, making buildings tremble.
But the ground battle was no less brutal.
An Engineered Wielder charged Prasert, blade shredding the pavement. Prasert deflected the slash with a radiant pulse, countering with a precise slash that severed the relic's resonance core. The attacker collapsed as the remaining circuitry flickered out. He finished him without a hint of mercy.
Gregorio pivoted, catching another enemy's blade with a violet parry before shoving him back with a burst of concussive force.
Agosto teleported onto the hood of an overturned police carrier, then backflipped over an incoming slash - landing behind the attacker to drive the Kampilan through it.
Prasert's voice cut through the chaos.
"Sandata Unit! Fall in!"
The four regrouped near the remains of a toppled skybridge. The Guardians tightened formation around them, forming a battered but resolute outer ring.
Prasert's chest heaved. His eyes brimmed with something raw - fear, desperation, but also hope.
"My country is dying," he said, voice cracking only slightly. "Bangkok is burning. If we fail here, everything falls. The Crown of the Naga falls. Please… help me hold what is left."
Renato nodded first. "You don't need to ask. We're with you."
Agosto rested the Kampilan on his shoulder, eyes sharpening. "We finish this. Together."
Gregorio stepped forward. His breathing steadied. Kamay ni Bathala pulsed once like thunder without sound.
"Prasert," he said. "You risked your life in defense of ours, we will not fall short in effort paying it back".
The Royal Guardians stiffened, their morale surging again.
Prasert raised his blade.
Gregorio raised his fist.
Renato braced the Kalasag.
Agosto lifted the Kampilan.
Four relics pulsed in unison of gold
, violet, crimson, and azure.
A shock of resonance rippled outward, cracks in the ground glowing briefly under the pressure.
Then Prasert inhaled sharply.
The four relic Wielders roared in unison.
"Punishment of the Gods!"
Gregorio felt Kamay surge.
Renato's Kalasag pulsed with a seismic burst
Agosto's Kampilan ignited in spiraling red flame.
The Royal Guardian Corps fell silent…as if the world itself held its breath.
"DIVINE SYNCHRONY!"
The invocation thundered across the ruined district, echoing through the shattered temples, flooding the broken streets, resonating with every relic pulse still active in the city.
Light erupted as four colors spiraling upward, intertwining, forming an ascending helix of raw mythic force.
Above them, the enemy forces reeled.
All across the battlefield, both friend and foe felt the air tremble.
And Prasert Rattanachai lifted his blade toward the burning sky, voice roaring with the wrath and love of a soldier defending his home.
"PHRA ANGKARN!!!"