Chapter 1 — The Obelisk at the Edge of the Blade

  Rain fell like blades over the soaked, barren land, washing away the blood but not the death. Black clouds spread across the sky like a grim omen, hiding the light of the stars. Bodies lay piled among the ruins of the village — torn apart, charred, mutilated — soldiers, civilians, children. Not a single soul was left alive… except one.

  Zareth.

  Weak. Pale. Ragged. Skin clung to bone, and his sunken eyes bore the weight of hunger. Black hair clung to his shoulders, drenched by the storm. On his nape burned the fresh mark of hot iron — the brand of the slavers of Arkheion.

  He didn’t scream. He didn’t cry. He just walked.

  His bare feet sank into mud and decomposing flesh. The screams of the past echoed only inside his mind. He didn’t remember the attack. A flash. An explosion. Then silence. The slaver caravan had stopped in the village to rest, but there were no guards left, no executioners. Not even the watchdogs.

  Something had killed them all. But what?

  Zareth wandered aimlessly, his eyes drifting, until he saw it.

  In the center of the massacre stood a monolith of black stone, embedded in the ground as if it had fallen from the sky. It pulsed with inscriptions in a language he didn’t know, yet somehow… understood.

  When his hand touched the stone, the world stopped.

  > [EX MACHINA ARCANA SYSTEM INITIALIZED]

  Welcome, Zareth.

  Status: EON Bond detected.

  Initial Connection Level: 7

  Beginning neural synchronization…

  Zareth fell to his knees.

  His vision fractured into a thousand lights. A translucent screen emerged in his field of view — cold, precise, alive. Icons orbited his consciousness like satellites of a new world. A deep metallic voice echoed in his mind — not like a machine, but something… ancient.

  > “You have died to the world. Now you are reborn to the Machinism.”

  “All that was shall be corrupted. All that will be shall be shaped by your will.”

  Pain exploded through his nerves. His body trembled. Something entered him — not flesh, not iron — but code. Energy.

  And then, from the heart of the obelisk, emerged the figure… a living statue, cloaked in ash and time. A warrior in ancient armor, a curved blade on his back, hollow eyes of pure light. A machine. A phantom. A...

  > Warframe detected: EXCALIBUR (Status: Severely Damaged)

  Initiating forced subordination…

  Minimal integration complete.

  Unit: Excalibur Zarethian ready for combat.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Zareth collapsed onto his back in the mud, panting, his eyes twitching.

  And Excalibur… knelt before him.

  > “Awaiting orders, Commander.”

  Zareth didn’t smile. Didn’t understand. Didn’t celebrate.

  But for the first time since he was born… he felt no fear.

  And around him, the corpses still seemed to whisper, as if death hadn’t finished its work.

  ---

  Zareth stared at the figure before him — armor cracked and moss-covered, posture imposing even while kneeling. Excalibur was much larger than an ordinary man, yet made no sound. No breath. No heat. A living statue — soulless, yet full of purpose.

  The voice of the system echoed in his mind again:

  > [Subordinated unit detected]

  Verbal command accepted. Direct communication enabled with Excalibur Zarethian.

  Status: 14% functional integrity. Available skill: Slash Dash.

  Zareth remained still for a moment, his body still shaking from the sudden connection. He swallowed hard.

  “You… are real?”

  The Warframe’s head rose slightly. A mechanical gesture, yet strangely reverent.

  “Confirmed. Unit Excalibur subordinated. Awaiting orders, Zareth.”

  The way his name was spoken — without doubt, without weight — made him feel, for the first time, a sense of command.

  “What… are you?”

  “Combat unit. Mid-tier tactical reinforcement. Minimum recommended hostility against low-tier targets.”

  “I don’t understand any of this.”

  “You will learn.”

  Silence fell between them like a heavy curtain. The wind rattled the village’s broken tents. The smell of blood was so thick it tasted metallic on his tongue. Zareth stood with effort, legs unsteady, stomach sunken from hunger.

  “Is there anything I can… eat?”

  The interface pulsed:

  > [Searching for supplies…]

  Supply cache located 23 meters away.

  Food probability: 41%

  Structural collapse risk: moderate.

  Zareth looked around. A low building stood nearby, its roof half-collapsed by an old projectile. He walked toward it slowly. Excalibur followed, soundless, his steps lethally light.

  The door was ajar, cracked. Zareth pushed it open with his shoulder and coughed at the dust. Among boxes and rubble, a broken iron chest lay open.

  Inside: bread crumbs, some hardened dried fruit, and… a sealed protein bar. He grabbed it like it was gold. His hands trembled. He ate slowly, barely tasting it.

  Outside, Excalibur tilted his head slightly, like an alert hound.

  “Something wrong?” Zareth asked.

  “Residual presences detected. Animal life.”

  “Dangerous?”

  “Insignificant. Analysis suggests predatory species. Zero threat with direct intervention.”

  Zareth nodded. He was beginning to understand. The Warframe’s presence wasn’t just strength — it was a living sentinel. A guardian. A weapon. And, strangely, a servant.

  “Why me?” he murmured.

  “Energetic compatibility. Your condition enabled the link.”

  “What condition?”

  The system answered for Excalibur:

  > You were between life and death. Your soul no longer belonged to the plane of origin.

  Void detected. Link established.

  Zareth didn’t fully understand, but something inside him accepted it. After all, he had no family. No homeland. No clan name. He had only been flesh marked by iron — until now.

  “Let’s get out of here,” he finally said.

  “Confirmed.”

  Excalibur took the lead, gliding through the debris with ghostlike steps. Zareth followed, eyes sweeping over the now-colorless corpses. A strange feeling stirred within him — not peace, not hope. It was… curiosity. For the first time, he wanted to know what lay beyond the next hill. He wanted to know what he could become.

  As they left the village behind, the interface lit up once more:

  > Primary Objective: Survive. Explore. Ascend.

  Future rewards: System expansion. Resource access. Troops. Connections.

  Warning: You are the sole bearer of the Ex Machina Arcana System.

  The world will not accept you.

  You will have to make it.

  ---

  The sun had long since vanished, though the darkness wasn’t absolute. The sky looked wounded — thick clouds blocked most of the moonlight, and a low mist slithered through the skeletal trees surrounding the ruined village.

  Zareth and Excalibur walked in silence.

  There was no rush. No destination.

  The forest bordering the wreckage was yellowish gray. Twisted trees with bone-dry leaves that rattled like glass bones. No birdsong. No echoes of civilization.

  Zareth felt the cold bite his skin, but he no longer shivered. The protein bar had given him strength, but not peace. His eyes remained fixed ahead, though he had no path.

  “Excalibur,” he murmured, “do you feel anything?”

  “Sensors active. No immediate threats.”

  “Not that. I mean… something else.”

  There was a brief pause. The Warframe stopped, as if considering the question.

  “Sensation is not a functional parameter. But… residual memories exist.”

  Zareth raised an eyebrow.

  “From who?”

  “From others. Before me. Fragments. Echoes.”

  Zareth ran a hand through his filthy hair. It all seemed like madness. And yet… it made sense, in a crooked way.

  “Why do you obey me?”

  “Link. You are the Core. The Source. Zarethian.”

  “I’m nobody.”

  “You will be.”

  The reply came instantly. Without hesitation. As if carved in stone.

  They walked on.

  Eventually, they reached an open field. A dead lake, mirrorless, in the center of a soundless clearing. The water was black, windless, lifeless. Excalibur stopped at the edge.

  “Minimal energy source detected. Purification possible.”

  Zareth knelt. Cupped the stagnant water in his hands. It was cold as metal, but… strangely clean. He drank slowly. His throat burned for a moment. Then it passed.

  > [Vitality stabilized]

  Energy restored: +1 unit

  EON: remains at 7

  Zareth wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he sat on a flat stone. He stared at the lake for a few minutes, thoughts drifting, soul numb. Excalibur stood like a silent statue in his shadow.

  “Excalibur,” he murmured, nearly asleep, “why is this world so quiet?”

  “Because the living are afraid to speak. And the dead cannot.”

  The words cut deep. Zareth closed his eyes for a moment. His body was exhausted. And finally, sleep took him. Not a peaceful sleep — but a heavy one. A dreamless abyss, formless and dark, like the lake’s water.

  Excalibur remained, vigilant.

  And when the first gray hint of dawn touched

  the dead forest leaves, the Warframe stirred, tilting his head northward.

  > New activity detected. Three life forms.

  Weaponry: primitive. Threat level: low.

  Protocol: awaiting orders.

  But Zareth still slept.

  ---