Something Vile Has Awakened...

Aquarius

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It is a common question he asked himself about machines.

Do they dream?

While the answer is never found to be set in stone between people, there is a definitive answer for him.

No, Aquarius did not dream. He slumbered deeply. His wires and his bright red iris turned off in completion and waited patiently for a time when his shame had finally fled him. Whoever it was, that lone warrior that had shown Aquarius his first defeat, haunted only the waking moments of Aquarius' life. The automaton did not see him once in his sleep. It saw nothingness in its purest form. What that may look like may never be deciphered. For darkness is something. Pearlescent white is something. Aquarius saw nothing.

Years of nothing had only exacerbated the machine's distaste for mortal life. As his eye flickered back to life in the shadowy world of the cave he'd called his tomb, the first thing he remembered was his hatred. A hatred never balanced nor dissuaded by the likes of any hero types. For Aquarius had removed that possibility by burying himself beneath the Hinterlands. In fact; it had only grown as he remembered why he was down here and who had forced his hand into hiding. That warrior, with armor of crimson and a sword of glimmering silver, that had made a fool of his legacy that he had cultivated for generations.

Aquarius rose from his sitting position. His eye met the carvings he'd made so many years ago. The lady pouring a jug of water, and the three waves connected vertically. Reminders of himself, reminders of the constellation he was named from. An omen of he. One he feared as much as the likes of those who encountered him did.

He parsed through his memories. Though only his anger truly showed in the dissection of his mind. He did not remember his creation or his creator. How he gained sentience was too lost on him. All he could muster to pull from his awakening was the fury he felt. His disgust for Arcadia's dissent into revelry and debauchery.

Right, Arcadia. Once a place of regality and ruthless honor now fell corrupt to those in power who preached of a new age to remove it from it's Golden Age. Regicide driven maniacs who dared to impede on the Empire's once great expanse. Eaten by the forest after nigh nine hundred years of virtuous growth. How he loathed the new kingdom, and all that were a part of such a diminished recreation of the place he'd once loved.

It could only have become worse, he felt. That his absence had removed another breath of the old Empire, and he felt a pang of guilt for being such a coward in the face of its descent. It was far from over, though. Now, he'd returned. His fury intensified.
 

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He spent the first few moments of his newfound waking messing with his nerves. Squeezing his hand shut and open again to ensure he was still functioning correctly. He did the same with his legs by throwing a roundhouse or two as well as jumping in place. Everything seemed to be in order. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing still. As if some chunk of him had been lost in this cavernous place and he could not remember where or why. Aquarius' hands felt empty now that the thought had protruded.

Didn't he have a weapon? He could've swore he did. Yet there was nothing around him and no weapon in sight for him to grasp. Still, the feeling was unshakeable. There was definitely a tool he'd brought with him into his resting place.

The machine began wandering through the cave tunnels. It took him over an hour to map out the place in his head but he still managed to do it. He'd forgotten that he was once a renowned tactician. Someone who could figure out the layouts of an area with ease, and it was slowly returning to him. He'd now memorized the place and was looking for this supposed tool once more.

The cave was huge. It had many tunnels and little nooks and cranny rooms scattered throughout its entire expanse. This weapon he was hunting for could be anywhere and he could be looking for hours trying to find it. He dug through his memories more trying to remember what it looked like, where he'd placed it when he arrived here, but to no avail. That region of his mind was still locked for some reason. He knew it existed, though. That he was absolutely certain of.

After several hours of aimless walking through the cavern he returned to where he had been asleep. It made no sense that he would've hidden it somewhere so far from where he'd rested. It had to be nearby. Then, something finally caught his eye. As he peered back towards the symbolism of the Aquarius constellation he bore witness to a patch of rock that was loosened. Perhaps it had even been put there by hand. This was it.

He launched a devastating punch to the rock and it fell to dust upon impact. Behind it laid a long, staff like thing. Both ends of it seemed to hold ports to channel some sort of energy. It was clearly once a gorgeous bronze, but it had been defecated upon by the leavings of the cave. Dirt and mud slathered its beauteous coat giving it the appearance of just another stick. He grasped it by the center and pulled it from its earthen scabbard.

With a single flourish of the weapon, the mud flew from its base and struck the ceiling and ground respectively. The bronze sheen now brightened by his glowing eye as it revealed the weapons form. The memories came back instantly.

Skulls cracked, bodies filled with an inhumane amount of electricity, throats crushed by its weight. All the kills, all the beatings, all the torture. It all flooded back.

Oh, how he'd missed his teeth.
 

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The next several hours were spent with The Teeth. His beloved tool that he'd found yet again. It felt so good to hold it once more and to practice what he'd been so good at.

Killing, that is.

Flourishes of graces and dances to match the weapons movements, it was all coming back to him finally. He was a master with it. An unrivaled assailant with such a formidable weapon. This arrogance only festered as he continued to practice his motions. Stalactites and stalagmites met with a simple, destructive end as he swung into them with rage and beauty. A kata performed with violent intent. His trainings and the lack of stamina needed led to nearly a whole days worth of swinging The Teeth about.

There was no downside to this time. It was his to do with what he would. No interruptions or previously arranged gatherings to push him from the courts in the old Empire, nor people that would gawk and whisper about his capabilities. He missed the Golden Age greatly, but cherished that that aspect had not followed him. There was peace in here. In these empty caverns that he made his makeshift home until he was ready to display his gorgeous chaos back to the world. What a spectacle it'd be. Aquarius caught himself staring emptily at the ceiling and daydreaming about his return to the surface of Erde Nona.

What did the Hinterlands look like now? Where there new species of fauna? Flora? All eating away at his once prosperous home. The living always had such imposing methods. Pushing themselves for meager survival when they could so easily return to soil. Instead they chose to grow and conquer, refusing to be happy with the way things are. Rebellions and revolutions to dictate some sort of meaning in their miserable existences. So short lived and they still fought for something that wouldn't come to fruition until their great-grandchildren were born. What futility.

Aquarius stopped himself mid kata and looked back towards the symbols of the constellation.

He had a wonderful idea.
 

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The sparks that flew from his weapon dragging across the surface of the cave's ceiling shone like miniature stars in the darkened cavern. The walls were surprisingly weak. Or perhaps he was surprisingly strong. The latter wasn't all that surprising to him. After all, he thought himself the end all be all of creatures created in the Crossroads. The fact was almost completely nullified by the countering idea that lightning could leave its mark in almost anything, but Aquarius went about thinking himself great nonetheless.

After he was finished with his etchings he stood back and admired them. They weren't new whatsoever. Copies of the previous carvings he'd apparently made when he first arrived in this place. This time, however, they were blackened. Scorched by the weapon he'd lost. This, to him, was much more meaningful. Black was a shade of power and resilience. One that didn't scar easy but the visible ones it did have were large and bound to miraculous circumstance.

Once he'd absorbed all he needed to from the markings of his own name, he felt a bit at a loss. It didn't feel quite like it was time for him to leave yet. But he was growing impatient and bored. There was nothing much left to do in this place. He didn't even know where the entrance truly was despite his mental mapping. He hadn't looked for it. Was there even one? Or was he buried beneath so much rubble that it may be another 800 years before he saw the sunlight?

It bothered him how much the thought of time was weighing on him. However he was coded to think was so similar to a human's in that regard. He wished he could do away with such unimportant thoughts but there they were, and anyone who had made him who he was had to be long dead. What a pity. Stuck with such inane, pointless feelings of passing time and wanting something to do. Maybe it'd be best if he went back to sleep.

But, then, a miracle occurred.

The loud sound of stone grinding and a sliver of light breaking through. He thought he could hear voices as well.

Humans, perhaps?

Not long after, the cave was flooded with light. A room not far from him exploded a bright white circle. Once he gathered his focus it made all too much sense.

The entrance. Someone had opened it.

He watched as three silhouettes appeared and began their trek further in. Their voices now audible.

"Wow, how old you think this place is?"

"I don't know, it looks like it's been sealed for centuries."

"What a trip!"


Stupid minds baffled by rock and damp oxygen. It had to be humanity stumbling upon his resting place. No one else would be so childly infatuated with the concept of a cave.

He picked his staff up and tapped it into the ground.

It was time to say hello.
 

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The cacophonous sound of his hollow, metal footsteps led the fellows who'd just entered this tomb to grow deathly silent. He meandered towards them, his frame still hidden by the ever sprawling shadows that were produced naturally by the formations that covered this earthen place. He could hear them whispering to one another and drawing blades and loading guns in preparation for what was to come. Not a terrible idea, he thought. But there was no preparation for the sleeping calamity. His ferocious appetite for death would soon be sated.

As he rounded the corner into the next room, there were gasps at the sight of his red eye reflecting in the encroaching sunlight. Two men and one woman stood at the doorway. The men with some sort of rifle aimed his direction and the woman with a long broadsword.

"Who are you?!" The woman called out, trying to hide her shaking voice with a sense of bravado and readiness.

Aquarius paused in front of them. He took a moment to look over their weaponry with great detail. The rifles seemed to be of the same make, but nothing he'd ever seen. Perhaps they were newer models made with the funds of someone in higher standing. The blade held by the young woman was fine. That's it. It was fine. Nothing special nor threatening to him.

"These things are loaded!" One of the men called out to him.

Aquarius made long eye contact with him. He was trying to remember how to talk. He didn't even remember what he sounded like. At first he just let out a low, electronic buzz that filled the room in such a way that it made it seem as if insects were swimming in the air. Eventually it gathered into coherence and formulated a voice. One that was low and haunting. The sound of a soul trapped behind the remains of a machine. Deep and eerie.

"You question my presence upon arrival in a place that does not belong to you. It's poetically fitting to see that your kind has not made any progress in regards to being understanding or welcoming. I feel affirmed and validated. My loathe for you goes not without purpose. You raise your weapons at mere sound, afraid of the shadows betwixt the walls that crawl without impediment to your march. You treat me as an intruder. In a home I've made for myself. Your backwards philosophy of conquering and fear-driven action has brought Arcadia to its knees, and you've let the surrounding world devour it. Cowards, the lot of you. I've walked beside the feet of men who knew their place and held their honor. You, of no conviction. You, of no addition. I offer you only return to the soil from whence you slithered."

Aquarius did not hesitate. He was upon them in a moments notice. Blasts of energy being released from the rifles they wielded. They found no purchase besides the walls behind the automaton. The first rifle-bearer was met with the destruction of his throat. Aquarius slammed The Teeth straight forward into his neck, and released the electric energy within. His throat was cauterized from within, and closed shut. Forever.

The woman with the broadsword brought it down in an attempt to sever Aquarius' head. The clang of metal on metal could be heard through the entire cavern system as he blocked the blade with his wrist. Her lack of composure and fear at what she'd just seen led her to waver, an opportunity that Aquarius wouldn't squander. He swung the staff with full force into her head, knocking her sidewise. The other side of her skull collided with a rock beneath her. Her eyes closed. Forever.

The last of them was yelling something about vengeance and Aquarius never getting away with what he'd done. He fired wildly, making evasive maneuvers against the blasts all too easy. The Teeth slammed into the mans knee cap, making him fall forward. A devastating knee upward sent the man back into his original position, Aquarius was playing with centrifugal force as well as playing with his food. The machine tapped his staff lightly against the mans skull and released the electricity. Turning off the man's brain. Forever.
 

Aquarius

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If Aquarius had the capability to exhale in elation that is what he’d be doing. He stood over his dirty work with a smug sense of satisfaction. It was a difficult thing to prevent him from bursting through the cave and unleashing more of this unquenched bloodlust upon the outside world. But that was too simple. Too mindless. These three hapless adventurers were a gift. A practice run in the tidings to come. He couldn’t squander that. Too much of a good thing became it’s own antithesis. Patience was what he needed to practice now. Allow others to find their way to him. He now being a keeper of a mysterious dungeon.

The machine still desired something to eat his time up. He turned to the fresh corpses and lifted one of the rifles he’d been so enamored with. It’s design was sleek and clean, a jet black tool of death that likely did its job efficiently had the opponent been anyone else. He would study it. Learn how it propelled such energy from its barrel. It was a fascination to him and the art of ranged combat was something he’d never been accustomed to as he’d always leapt head first.

Aquarius began to dismantle the weapon in order to gain an understanding of its make. The little pieces of metal that held it together at first seemed confusing and foreign to the mechanical killer. It didn’t take him long to fully understand how they all compiled and it sparked a new idea in his head.

He stood up and one handed Aquarius shut the circular stone door that had let these interlopers in.
He had work to do.
 

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So, there he sat. His left arm now disassembled and laid bare upon the ground alongside the rifle he’d meticulously taken apart. He stared furiously at all the pieces of metal trying to gather how he could congregate them to be something useful to him. Aquarius had no desire to use a weapon such as this despite his fascination with it. He thought, however, that if he WAS the weapon that it may be more palatable to him. Surprisingly enough, it seemed his make and the make of the rifle were to some degree, matching.

With that knowledge he figured he could rearrange the configuration of both in order to produce some sort of weaponized version of his own arm. His know now on mechanical creation was mostly limited to small communication but he had to try. He had the time, what else to do but advance his skills?

Aquarius figured that the cells attached to this rifle were likely the cause of the energy it produced. They were limited it seemed. An energy that would run out. He couldn’t manage that, he needed it to be infinite to make it worth it. Their body seemed mostly electrical which would make it much more possible to conjure something that recharged itself, like The Teeth. It would just be a delicate process trying to dismantle and reconfigure pure electricity.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
 

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The last finger of his left arm was finally connected once again and he squeezed his hand as he had when he’d first awoken. It all felt normal so far. A minuscule success; at least he hadn‘t rid himself of an appendage permanently. He looked at his palm which now had a newly applied tunnel through the center of it. The energy cells rattled a bit in his arm but that would likely be an easy thing to adjust to. It did feel heavier.

Now was just to test the connectivity. One thing he’d always envied of humans was their nerves. They could channel and feel their energies so easily. And the fear of pain and death drove one to fight harder and with more meaning. That was an experience he’d never have. Cursed to live with a cold and calculated measurement of combat. He did feel something from the action though. He knew he loved it. Even if he couldn’t define it.

More hours of contemplation passed before he was ready to try it. He bent his knees and aimed his palm at the wall in front of him. Aquarius moved away from the entrance as to not receive more attention from the test. Even if he secretly wanted more visitors…

His arm reverberated hard as he attempted to channel the energy cells through it. He held it in place with his other hand a d tried to keep the shot straight. A large orb that resembled the blast from the rifle exploded from his hand, knocking him on his back and eradicating an enormous chunk of the wall. It worked! It had its flaws still but he’d actually done it.

After almost 900 years of stagnation, Aquarius was finally more deadly.
 

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His right arm took a lot more time. He wasn't as proficient with his left arm in destructing and reconstructing. It had remained quiet. He was sure a search party would have had to come from the three cretins that entered this place at some point. Aquarius hadn't even moved them. Why hide something you were proud of? The next to arrive would be better off anyways, knowing what awaited them. He was doing them a service he didn't even have to. He thought himself ever so generous.

Finally the right arm was made and it was time for another test. Same result. An outwardly devastating explosion that careened him backwards from its propulsion. It was rather satisfactory. But not good enough. There was too much chaos. It still wasn't something he could use without causing a problem for himself. That's not how tools were supposed to work. What was causing the rattling? Perhaps what pieces he'd used would make a difference. While similar, the parts from the rifle were still different from his arm in a few ways. It was a denser metal which meant it was compacted more and may provide more kinetic energy then his original parts. It would be tedious and it felt a bit weird to remove pieces of himself but this project wasn't complete. Not yet.

The testing then came back to his left arm. The hope was that after this; the removal of explosiveness and the rattling, the shot would not only fly straighter but hit harder and inject kinetic energy throughout the target with the use of the cells traveling through the denser metal. A smaller, cleaner shot as well. He aimed up, channeled, and released. The blast flung his hand upward like a shotgun would, but he remained on his feet. The orb of energy sailed swiftly at the same spot in the wall, crumbling more of it's already decimated surface.

The force cracked the wall inwardly which suggested that the kinetic energy did travel through the target to propel it backwards. He looked at his smoking palm and then to the corpses once more.

"I should thank you. You've brought me a wonderful gift."
 

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Another day had passed in these cave systems and Aquarius was staring at a plethora of cracked walls before him. He had reduced the time to channel to about ten seconds but it wouldn’t go lower. It was frustrating but it would work regardless. Perhaps he could work the ability to make it an infinite ability. There would need to be some sort of catalyst to increase the recharge rate. He might not be able to access it for a long while.

Before that, it would be necessary to practice the new found weapon in more dire scenarios. Simply blasting away at red rocks was not going to prove its worth. Sure, it displayed its power with immense detail but the charge was long and a moving target was a different beast entirely. Not only that but it wasn’t likely he’d be facing off with many things wall-sized. Not impossible, though.

Aquarius made his way up to a tall and flat rock formation with a narrow amount of space for him to stand upon. He lowered his arm and began channeling while simultaneously focusing on a distant stalactite. He leapt sidewise from the formation before aiming his arm and attempting to launch another blast towards the hanging, rocky spike. As he released, there was nothing.

No blast, no shattered rock. Had he ran out of fuel already? How slowly did these recharge? It was an irritation to be sure.

Luckily Aquarius had plenty of training in being patient.
 

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A whole day. 24 hours for him to be able to re-fire his new found ranged attack. What an absolute drag. Aquarius found himself pacing back and forth in contemplation without any memory of even having stood up from his wait. He just knew that it took 24 hours before his arm released another blast. This wasn‘t going to do. It was far too finite. Too reduced. What if he’d lost The Teeth in battle? He’d have a time limit then? How was anyone to manage that? How the hell could he possibly justify-

Wait. That feeling. That never before found wrack of nerves that he’d envied from humans so greatly. There it was. A time limit. The pressure to move at a pace faster than he expected of himself for the sake of survival. It was his synonym to that feeling. A way for him to know it in his exoskeleton. The balance of fearing what happens when his resources ran out and never knowing what that outcome may actually be.

He stared longingly at his palm. He himself had made the very thing he thought he’d never know. This dive into self reconstruction amounted to something internal as well. The pseudo emotions he felt now pouring from his mind and amalgamating into self satisfaction. He was the creator of death and now of emotions. A force his own in rival to the name he’d stolen from the stars.

Aquarius knew now his purpose. He could make death. He could make those animalistic instincts to flee or die.
As his constellation Father, Ganymede, was taken by the king of Gods to be the cupbearer. So should he. He would pour for the world. Pour this ashen water down the throats of these wayward Arcadians.

They would know pain in its purest form. They would know death as he sang it.
 

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Now came the moments of contemplation. What to do with newfound purpose. The circular door that was revealed to him through the trespass of these three fools wouldn‘t be an issue to move. The machine sat and thought in front of said door in a fashion similar to that of someone in meditation. It all was going to come down what he could manage to do when he was out.

There was bound to be great resistance. The implementation of an old society into a modern one was often considered displeasurable. Old rules were done away with in hopes to create a new order following the footsteps of the world. But why? There was prosperity then. It had fallen to debauchery and incremental rates of crime, only to be topped off by the leaders of Arcadia letting the forest eat its way through the city.

Where was its fight? The grandeur was not what he cared about, but the spirit. The spirit of old Arcadia was irreplaceable and yet still managed to be buried beneath tons of revelry and rancor. There was no meaning left in its continuation. All for the sake of pleasure and pointless baubles. He was friends with warriors and kings. Those of high standards who held the same to those around them.

It then occurred to him that a revolution of reversion would not be something he could do alone.

But who would share his ideal?
 

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What would it take to begin a revolution? A moral of fury was only the start. Steps were needed and he knew he’d have to begin small. Attempting to overthrow a kingdom by fist first and foremost would only lead to an untimely demise. No matter his arrogance Aquarius understood the powerlessness of an ideal without a backing. There would need be a quiet spreading of his belief. A thoughtful infiltration of the minds of those who may have felt wronged by the city. The people who wanted to see a return to greatness such as he. Joining him in the removal of a crown unworthy.

Yes. There would be so much beauty in his ideal world. Where Arcadia stormed forward with rage and honor and did not allow the outside world to claim any piece of it. Expansion. Conquering. A city where it’s king was itself and the people who followed his beliefs were rewarded with land and power. The time for leaders was never done, but the time for royalty had long passed.

There would be no more rulers like the ones he knew. The people he’d protected were long dead, he knew that. To replicate the past in the future; he would have to understand the sacrifices. There were so many faces he wouldn’t see again. None that he could call his friends, exactly, but there was comfort in their familiarity. To now enter a world he didn’t recognize was unacceptable.

To remake it in his image was the only option.
 

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This time of plotting came to an abrupt end. As Aquarius finally realized how long he’d been sitting for, the door moved once again. It moved much cleaner and clearer this time around. As if whoever was moving it had great strength and great grace. It wouldn’t be long before Aquarius saw him. A rather tall man. He bore a yellow and old cloak that didn’t cover his face. It looked similar to a rain coat but the material wouldn’t have offered him any protection from the weather. The sunlight carved across the man’s dark skinned face revealing soft eyes and graying long hair with a beard to match.

The man looked at Aquarius a brief moment before taking notice of the three corpses that lay behind the machine. He walked passed Aquarius over to them and knelt. This revealed the large weapon upon his back. Some iron thing the size of a bike and rectangle in shape. A blunt device, no question. One that surely wrought hell upon whoever opposed it.

“You should have buried them.” The man spoke in a quiet and stoic tone. Aquarius then stood up slowly and turned to face them.

“They offered me insult and threats. I owe them no service.” The machine responded in kind.

The man in the yellow coat shook his head. He stood up and removed his weapon from his back, prompting Aquarius to grip The Teeth with vigor. The weapon was slammed into the ground making the entire cavern shake with ferocity. The indent that was left in the ground was easily large enough for a person. He laid one of the riflemen into it, and put the uprooted dirt on top of them. He did this twice more for each of the fallen before he turned back to Aquarius.

“I feel as if we’ll need to fight, but, I’m tired. I’d like to take a moment first.“ The man then sat down and reached into a satchel that he’d had hidden beneath his coat. He pulled out a kettle and a small cup, and poured tea for himself.

Aquarius was growing confused. Why had they not engaged yet? What was this man’s angle?

”I’d offer you some if I thought you’d be able to consume it. Do you mind sitting with me anyways?” The man spoke with such a kindness that the machine was unfamiliar with. He found himself sitting in front of the man without hesitation, as his curiosity had been piqued by his new visitor.

The man took a deep drink of the tea and let out a sigh of enjoyment. “Now, do you mind telling me why you killed them?”
 

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“What do you mean?” The machine didn’t understand. They had pointed their guns and their blade at him. Why wouldn’t he have killed them? Do you not kill what threatens you?

The man held his cup in hand and looked intensely at Aquarius‘ large red eye.

“Their expressions. They were full of fear, exhaustion, confusion. They were clearly no threat to you.“

“They displayed me hostility upon sight of me. I see no reason to have to have not shown them the same.”

“From a glance I can tell it was a one sided encounter. You used all your might against three novices at the first notion of having a reason to do so.“
The man broke his eye contact in order to drink from his cup once more. “I understand that you’re a machine. But it would be remiss of me to not acknowledge that you have the capability to comprehend moral situations. That, and it seems you have some capacity to feel emotion as well.”

How would he know what Aquarius’ specs allowed? The knowledgeable and mysterious warrior took another sip.

”That being said, you surely could’ve told the difference in practice and power between you and those three. And how many people do you expect to tend to you hand and foot upon the sight of you?”

”I am owed respect. I have walked these lands since before they were a thought. I am-“

”You aren’t owed anything. If you’d asked me, I’d say you’re nothing more than a metal skeleton with the mind of a child, selfish and arrogant.“


Aquarius had heard enough. He stood up and flourished The Teeth.

“Enough. You too, have shown me immense insult. I grow weary of postponing your demise.“

The man put away his tea set and removed the satchel from his hip, laying it gently on the ground. He removed his yellow cloak to reveal a toned, dark body beneath it that was covered in scars that one would only find in war. He gripped the hilt of the iron club.

“There are many looking for this cave, metal one. This age has much curiosity in it.“ Aquarius didn’t even see the man’s hand move. His chassis was soon slammed from below, flinging him upward to ricochet off the ceiling. He fell flat on his eye and red cranium, cracking it slightly. As he looked up, the man was holding the club behind him in a way that suggested Aquarius had just been uppercut by the thing.

“And some of them, are much stronger than I.”
 

Aquarius

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Aquarius pushed himself from the ground and let the rubble covering him slide off his back. He stood to face his opponent who had the audacity to look down on him with eyes full of pity. Aquarius swung his staff under his arm and pointed his palm at the large warrior, assuming his stance.

“They‘ll have to be.”

Aquarius lunged forward, stabbing obviously with The Teeth at the man’s torso. The attack seemed much more like a move from his kata. It was delicate and slow and was dodged with ease by the warrior. The man had sidestepped it to the left putting him directly in front of the palm Aquarius had extended. The energy the machine had been channeling released, firing at the warrior with immense speed.

Despite it’s momentum the man was able to block the blast by swinging his weapon towards it. The blast did not reach his skin but the force was apparent. He‘d been pushed back deeper into the cave and a large chunk of the iron club was missing from the side that it had impacted. Aquarius wasted no time following up.

He swung The Teeth hard towards then legs of the man in an attempt to disable him. As his staff made its way towards the man’s lower half, the ankle he targeted rose, and the weapon was stomped upon. Aquarius looked upward towards the man, who stared at him with rage. The warrior towered over him acting as a portent of destruction. The club he held was swung with one hand into Aquarius’ side.

The machine flew through walls of stone from the force of the blow, landing back into the room where he’d carved all the symbols representing him. He was injured. His right arm now crumpled and it’s weapon unusable. The cells seemed intact still but it wouldn’t allow him to channel. He couldn’t feel it at all.

All he felt was the encroaching footsteps of his gargantuan opponent making their way to him.
 

Aquarius

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Consecutive moments of Aquarius having to drag himself off the cave floor were creating a deep ire in him. Who was this man? He was so reminiscent of the crimson warrior who’d defeated him almost a thousand years ago. This world would not relent in its attempt to prevent his ideals. A knight dawned in blood, now the man dawned in gold. He was being thrown so much adversity.

The man entered the cave room. He stared down at the kneeling automaton before noticing the scribblings of the constellation surrounding the walls and ceiling. The giant warrior shouldered his weapon while he peered at the carvings, a deep smile crossing his face.

“Ganymede.” The man said aloud. “The boy Aquarius. So used to attention and being loved by those he served. Ever pouring water for the civilians he shared a world with. So much so, that a the King of Gods saw it fit to take him to the heavens. The God fell in love with Ganymede‘s movements and refused to allow him to do labor for him. Instead, he became the cupbearer for all the other Gods.“

Aquarius stood, his right arm sparking from its damage. His cracked head and eye aimed straight at the man.

”The boy then noticed his home laying beneath the feet of a Goddess. He missed her goblet with the wine he was pouring and drenched his hometown in the ambrosia, drowning many of the people who’d once loved him. Ashamed and depressed, Ganymede requested solitude from the King of Gods as penance for what he’d done. That was when he was made into stars, and lifted above The Crossroads as a beautiful constellation. Are you named Aquarius?”

The machine made no sound, nor movement.

“I see,” The man started again. “This was your solitude. Your journey to the stars. And you lash out at those who you wronged. I think it best that you are buried here.“

The warrior rushed Aquarius, attempting a downward swing into the top of his head. Aquarius evaded the attack and moved passed him into the entrance room. He snagged The Teeth again but it was mangled from the man stepping on it. It would need repairs and there was no time for that.

The man appeared from the holes he’d created with Aquarius‘ body and tried to side swipe him with the club. A reactive duck followed by a backwards somersault landed the machine beside the broadsword of the woman he’d slain. He lifted it with his foot and caught it with his left hand. It’s weight was nice, and it would work much better against flesh then it would against his metal exoskeleton.

It was time to see if this man could indeed bleed.
 

Aquarius

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A standoff in the midst of a bout Aquarius was losing. Whoever this was, was strong and practiced. It made him ever so curious about what was dictating who arrived at this cave. Where exactly in the Hinterlands were they? They were brief thoughts he couldn’t keep at the moment. He need a way to deal with this barbarian, now. He rose the sword diagonally across his chest in preparation.

“It’s time to return to the stars, Aquarius.” The kindness in the man’s voice was masked with sadness, as if he truly had no interest in dispatching the automaton. That feeling was not mutual. This man had used his name against him, barked at him of a moral compass in an insulting fashion. It was time to put a stop to this insufferable, dialogue driven fight.

But the story ate away at Aquarius. Then the memories flooded;

I. GANYMEDE , THE CUPBEARER
Once, there was a machine. One made as a tool for the royalty of Arcadia to use as their guardian. A protectorate that would fend off any threats to their lifestyle. The machine was received very well for its consistency and punctuality. It would practice day in and day out to ensure it was sufficient enough to retain its position. Not once did it fail and it became loved amongst those in Arcadia’s upper echelon. It’s creator fell to dislike it. As he should have been praised for his creation of Aquarius. Yet, Aquarius was the one who received it.


An echoing ring was produced by the blade reaching handle of the warrior‘s mighty club. It nearly claimed two of his fingers before the man’s sheer strength and will shoved Aquarius and the broadsword backwards. He retaliated with a swing aimed for Aquarius’ head. The machine was well prepared, leaping so high his head almost collided with the ceiling. He landed gracefully atop the giant weapon and pirouetted his body and his new sword, leaving a large gash across the man’s face.



II. POUR WATER, POUR WINE
Eventually, the current emperor of Arcadia took notice of the guardian. He requested a new task for him. To be Arcadia’s sword. A machine had the opportunity to evade emotional conflicts and Aquarius had already proven to be capable of completing any task asked of him. He’d soon be known as the Golden Calamity, a ruthless force of assassination and execution that kept the Golden Age of Arcadia thriving.


Aquarius‘ dance influenced steps lifted him from on top of the warrior‘s weapon and again into a readied position. The wound laid upon the warriors weathered face hadn’t made him flinch even slightly. He slammed his club into the wall beside him causing a large amount of rubble to cover Aquarius. When the dirt had finally cleared and his vision returned to him, Aquarius was greeted with a large hand gripping his red eye and raising him from the ground. The man squeezed, cracking the eye further. Aquarius could only respond by piercing the man’s enormous arm with the broad sword.




III. DROWN YOUR HOMETOWN
The machine named Aquarius grew arrogant. It hadn‘t failed Arcadia once. His legacy spread and his name whispered for fear of what he may do. It was in these times where he began to feel rejection. People who hated what he was and were leaning towards removal of him. Aquarius knew who had done this. His creator. An inventor with darkened eyes who envied Aquarius for his intelligence and role, even if they were bestowed upon him. Aquarius found the inventor and slew him, wanting to put an end to this slanderous campaign. What followed could not have been expected. The son of this inventor then came to Aquarius. A warrior with a robe and helmet of deep crimson who drew his sword towards the monstrous machine. The warrior defeated Aquarius in a short skirmish, and left the machine to wallow in its tarnished legacy.


Despite the man’s muscle, the blade went through clean. They were now in a standstill. The man threatened to take Aquarius’ head while Aquarius’ would claim the man’s arm. Not an equal trade. Instead, Aquarius dragged the blade towards himself. He severed the man’s nerves and his arm went limp, dropping Aquarius from his grasp. Without hesitation, Aquarius removed the broadsword and shoved it through the man’s heart.



IV. A CONSTELLATION IS BORN
Aquarius bore so much shame in his defeat. What he was supposed to be had been discarded by this scorned son, and now his name held no weight. He was no longer considered golden, nor even a calamity. He had been reduced to an out of date robot that would be replaced in the coming years with ease. So he fled. Forced out of his position and all he had known. He would hide in the caves and do all he could to forget. To forget his lost home, to forget that he’d existed. To forget his failure.


Silence had again claimed dominion in the cave. The man did not choke nor sputter, he died standing, and with conviction in his eyes. A truly masterful opponent, Aquarius thought. Despite his insults and inability to see the machines reasons, he was a true warrior. One like those he had known in times long dead. He removed the sword from his chest, and lowered them both carefully into a position of kneeling. He prostrated before the man’s slunk body and offered him his quiet respects.

Aquarius stood up, victorious and with broadsword in hand. The sunlight from the outside covering the interior where now four bodies lay. The memories he’d rejected had all been brought to him. The story of the constellation never letting him again forget the horrible similarity that it held with his own. A fated namesake.

His body broken now, he would have to spend a great deal of time repairing himself. It was just about time to leave this cosmic place.

An array of stars, soon ready to be a calamity once more.
 

Aquarius

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The act of repairing took almost a fortnight. No one else had shown their face near the cave since the man had entered. Aquarius spent these twelve days beside the man's body. There was a hatred he had of him for the way he spoke about Aquarius, but a respect he had for his prowess and know-how in battle. This seemed oft how encounters with seekers of death went. You had to hate your opponent enough to kill them. It was easy with the three adventurers. They were cowards and it took nothing for him to hate a coward. With the man in yellow, it had been a more difficult task. The rush of true combat was a gift the man granted Aquarius and he was repaid with a warrior's death.

The mangling of Aquarius' arm was the worst of the injuries. The cracks in his eye and head were annoying and something that he couldn't fix in this cave, though their detriment was far more underwhelming in comparison to the loss of his arm. He was lucky to have won using the sword in his offhand. He thought perhaps he had misjudged the blade. It was sharp enough to have pierced the older warrior's iron-like skin without issue. That was not something a weak blade could have done.

He worked on his arm for those twelve days straight. Slowly, as his offhand was all he had to piece it back together. The Teeth would have to wait as well. Dented or not, it too would need to be brought to a mechanic. Then he could finish all his repairs. Once his arm was completed he picked the sword back up and swung it in practice. It felt great. If he'd been able to fight with his right arm he likely would've ended the bout much sooner. Perhaps it would have had less meaning, however.

Aquarius came to the conclusion he had misjudged the weapon. In truth, he wanted to keep it. But, despite it's sharpness he wanted something that could handle metal. The shape of the blade was perfect. It just needed to be of different material. He thought about the cells in his arms. What would happen if he reduced their number? It seemed that perhaps they would have the same velocity but the explosive impact would be brought down. Seeing as how a club was able to deflect it even with the explosion, perhaps it wouldn't be a bad idea to refashion some of the cells into the blade.

He began shaving the sword down. Normally something that would take days took him hours due to his lack of necessity for rest. Eventually the blade was dulled to a thin memory of what it was. That would be the conducting point. Now to make the hilt hollow. There needed to be a place where the cells would fit. He used the metal he'd shaven off to carve into the bottom of the handle. Once the hole was made, he placed several of the rifle cells into the bottom, then sealed it again by cauterizing the end with the energy remaining in The Teeth.

He'd need some sort of activation device as well. A button that connected to the cells. He carved again, this time from the side of the hilt and faceted a push stone connected to pieces of the shaved metal that then connected to the cells. Closing up the handle, he pushed the button.

Nothing.

He tried again. This time trying to fuse them closer by wringing any energy out of The Teeth that he could. It was to no avail. It hadn't any left. There was only one thing left to try. He'd need to expend energy from his palm weapon in a low dose. Not enough to send the blade flying or damage it but just enough to place the kinetic energy into the stone, metal, and cells. It was a long shot but all he had. He put his left palm against the opened makeshift console in the sword and channeled for only three seconds before releasing. The energy that he'd sent out was meek, but shocked something to life in the hilt of the blade.

He closed the console, then pushed the button once more.

A loud, electric crackling sound emitted from the sword as a ray of pale red energy surrounded the thin blade that had remained. The energy weapon curved into that of a slight scimitar shape. With each swing of the blade, it whirred and hissed as energy danced along the molecules of air.

It was beautiful. A broadsword of energy made to cut only the toughest of enemies to their knees. A perfect representation of what he'd planned to do.

He looked at it a long while before he decided. Decided it was time to leave. And, decided on a name for the weapon.

Ganymede, The Cupbearer.
 

Aquarius

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The grass of the Hinterlands outside the walls of this cavernous home he'd made for himself was something he wished he could have felt on his feet. Determining the texture was one thing but he knew there must have been morning dew upon it, and perhaps even ladybugs or bees that he would have felt beneath his threatening march. The direction as to where Arcadia may have been had been lost to him. So much of the overworld had claimed dominion on Erde Nona now that even the beating sun seemed to be foreign.

Right, he thought, he would have to relearn so many things. So many pathways and holes in the ground that we would meet yet again. There was a feeling of excitement returning. To rediscover this world that we would then shape into a place where kings lay dead and the people governed their own path. Arcadia had no idea of what was headed for them.

He walked for a long while, unsure of where he was going. It was about an hour into his walk that the roar of something approached him. A large, cylindrical shaped vehicle appeared and was quickly upon him, stopping its movement and the noise as soon as it got to him. A man wearing a helmet looked over at him.

"You lost, robot?" The man's accent was thick with slang. Aquarius did not like the word robot but needed information so he brushed it off.

"Indeed I am, friend. Which way is Arcadia?"

The man scoffed. "It's about twenty miles north of here. You ain't gettin' there any time soon on foot, that's for sure."

"Oh, that's troubling. Would you mind if I rode on your cylinder with you? I need to get to Arcadia."


The man shook his head. "You mean my bike? Hell no. I don't know you. Just told you where to go. Besides, I'm headed east. Heard there was some special cave nearby recently discovered."

Aquarius wished he could smile. Knowing full well where the man was headed. He looked downward at the grass beneath them both before responding.

"How unfortunate."

A swift draw of Aquarius' new weapon relieved the man's shoulders of his head. His body and his bike fell sideways. Aquarius removed his body and left it in the field, attempting to understand the man's vehicle. It wasn't too hard. After a few jumpy starts he grasped it enough to head north. Twenty miles would be done in under an hour at the speed he'd found comfortable.

Thus, it did. And Aquarius found himself standing inside of Arcadia. A place now swallowed by trees and bramble but with technology still advancing. He first made his way to a mechanic. They had polite conversation and the man helped Aquarius fix his head and eye free of charge, due to the machine being new to town. How kind. The automaton could only imagine if this man had the freedom to dictate like these emperors had. What good he may do.

Aquarius was in pique condition. Armed with new tools and new ambition.

Something vile, months ago, awoke in a cave.
Something vile now walks among all those in Erde Nona.

Aquarius was ever so excited.

 
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