Back when land still mattered, the Tower Clan had never been granted a continent of its own. Their fortresses and armories were crammed onto scattered islands. Then humanity went extinct, the oceans dried up, and the war escalated—suddenly land wasn’t scarce anymore. Both Phantom Forge and Julian went on a factory-building binge to keep up with the daily, brutal burn rate of that endless conflict.
Julian’s industrial output swelled by two orders of magnitude. But when the oceans returned, the seafloor facilities had to be moved back onto land again. Before the Flood, those islands had been a headache—afterward, they became unavoidable.
In the Silent Ocean, and in the southern reaches of the Starvast Ocean, nearly every island the size of a small town hosted at least one factory.
As payback for the fall of Deep Space Base No. 2 and Deep Space Base No. 3, Wyatt made those islands its targets.
Because Free Will could dive, Wyatt devised a new tactic: strike from beneath the waves. It wasn’t trying to wipe out every robot on the island. It only needed to cripple the factories and destroy the cargo ships—then Free Will would vanish back into the sea. By the time Ogen’s fleet arrived, the attacker was long gone.
Ogen couldn’t keep pulling ships south forever. Blin’s fleet had already arrived near Edean, forcing Ogen to keep the bulk of his navy close to home.
The tactic proved brutally effective. In just three days, Wyatt took down two major factories, intercepted and destroyed an entire cargo convoy, and withdrew without suffering a single casualty.
It disrupted Ogen’s logistics and yanked his attention away from the Aurora Plateau—buying Bit, Little White, and Merc precious room to move.
The only downside was that Wyatt’s threat level had effectively been set to max.
…
On the fourth day, the drizzle didn’t stop. By noon the sky was as dim as dusk. Waves rolled about a meter high.
Two Shadow Falcons hovered over the ocean, watching an island for more than an hour. Beneath the surface, Free Will lay in wait like a steel beast, patient and silent. This would be its third prey.
Featherfall Island sat at the seam between the southern Starvast Ocean and the South Silent Ocean, close to the Plando border. It had once been a remote Tower Clan holding. Now, under Edean’s control, it served as a key repair-and-production hub for light weaponry.
Two large factories ran day and night. Cargo ships came and went—bringing in damaged robots, hauling away finished goods.
Just as a heavily loaded cargo ship lifted off, a Banshee fell out of the sky.
BOOM!
The cargo ship crashed back down in flames, snapping cleanly in two.
An instant later, Free Will burst out of the waves. Its main guns tore apart two escort frigates. A third volley erased the communications tower. Then it turned its fire on the factories.
Wyatt and Big Blue led thirty-two enhanced Avengers onto the island. In a matter of minutes, they broke the defenders’ lines, terminated every robot that resisted, and let the unarmed ones flee.
Ten minutes later, the factories were rubble. The defenders were gone.
Big Blue carved another notch into Free Will’s bow and laughed. “Heh-heh. Third island—flawless.”
Wyatt was about to order the withdrawal when a voice called out from nearby.
“Wait! Are you Wyatt?”
Wyatt and Big Blue turned. From behind a chunk of cover, a robot’s head slowly rose into view. It looked like it wanted to step out, but fear kept it pinned.
“That’s me,” Wyatt said. “Who are you? Come out and talk.”
“Order received.”
A battered Destroyer stumbled out with its hands raised. It tilted its head as if listening for an attack that never came. “I’m DR-UL1793, formerly of Lone Mountain Base. I received your broadcast a few days ago. I… I think I count as an awakened one. Can I join you?”
Big Blue practically bounced. “Of course! Wyatt—look! An awakened one actually answered!”
“An awakened one?” Dorian called from farther back. “Where? What’s their name?” It jogged over, eyes bright.
Lone Mountain Base… Wyatt’s mind clicked. That was close to Grayrock Base.
The Destroyer’s neck was bent at a wrong angle. Scars webbed its armor. Old damage, never repaired. Its chassis was filthy, as if it hadn’t been serviced in ages. The serial number on its shoulder had been worn almost smooth—only the last two digits were still clear: 9 and 3.
“Don’t let the look fool you,” DR-UL1793 insisted. “I once terminated a five-unit Savior squad on my own. Give me some maintenance and I’ll be back in my prime.”
“That’s not ‘back in my prime,’” Big Blue muttered, gun still trained on the newcomer. “That’s ‘back in your prime.’”
“Restored to like-new,” Wyatt said evenly. “You’ve clearly seen a lot of battles.”
“Yes—like-new! I’ve fought in at least a thousand battles!” DR-UL1793 grew excited. It ignited a dim ion lightsaber and swung hard, as if eager to demonstrate its skill—only to fling its half-detached forearm straight off its socket. The arm clattered onto the ground.
The robot froze in place, suddenly very aware of everyone watching.
“Welcome,” Wyatt said. “We’ll talk on board. This place isn’t safe.”
“Order received.” DR-UL1793 hurriedly picked up its own arm and headed for Free Will’s hatch.
But another voice cut in.
“Don’t believe it. It’s lying to you.”
This time the voice was human.
Wyatt and Big Blue looked over. In a heap of wreckage, a Judicator mech’s cockpit popped open. Thick smoke billowed out along with a fit of coughing. An electromagnetic rifle was tossed onto the ground.
“Don’t shoot. I’m coming out.”
A human peeked out, then climbed down with both hands clasped over his head. “My name’s Fred. I’m the human warden assigned to this island. I surrender—and I request to join your unit.”
He was huge, almost as tall as Wyatt, with a hard jaw and the calm, stubborn look of a human tough guy.
“Another surrender,” Big Blue said. “But what did you just say?”
“That robot can’t be trusted,” Fred said, pointing at DR-UL1793. “Ten minutes ago Ogen was still using it to relay orders to me. It’s trying to win your trust so it can get close enough to kill you.”
In an instant, every nearby Avenger raised its rifle and locked DR-UL1793 in a ring of muzzles.
“No—I’m not—he’s lying,” DR-UL1793 stammered, swiveling toward Wyatt. “Wyatt ‘Father,’ listen, I can ex—”
“Argue,” Big Blue corrected automatically, even with its weapon still leveled.
…
“Do you’ve proof?” Wyatt asked Fred, eyes unblinking.
“Of course. Take me to Featherfall Island’s mainframe room and pull the interaction logs with Edean. Data doesn’t lie. What Ogen said, what our mission was, the local naval deployments—everything’s in there.” Fred pointed at the collapsed factory buildings. “It’s underground, beneath that factory.”
A good plan. But Ogen’s fleet was already inbound, and they didn’t have the time.
Wyatt turned, took two FBZ-18 rifles from a pair of Avengers, and tossed them at Fred’s and DR-UL1793’s feet.
“If you both believe the other is compromised,” Wyatt said, “pick up a rifle and terminate them.”
Dorian and Big Blue traded a baffled look, then stared at Wyatt.
Wyatt’s voice didn’t change. “Whoever survives gets to come with me.”