Hale's explosive device reached critical mass, its casing glowing white-hot as the energy built to a catastrophic crescendo. Victor's core blazed like a miniature sun as he absorbed the blast, the barrier around them flickering violently under the strain. The energy tore through him, the cracks in his core spreading faster, deeper—until, with a final pulse of light, the barrier collapsed.

  Silence.

  Victor's core dimmed, its glow reduced to a faint, erratic flicker. The calming blue light that had once pulsed steadily now wavered like a dying candle, the cracks spiderwebbing across his surface darkening as his systems failed.

  "Victor!" Pip screamed, her voice breaking. She pressed her hands against his core, as if she could will him back to life. "No, no, no—you can't do this!"

  Aelin's grip on her bow tightened, her usual composure shattered. "Victor, damn you—don't you dare give up now!"

  Borin's face was grim, his hammer clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened. "Stubborn fool..."

  Pip's breath hitched as she looked around wildly—then her eyes locked onto the wreckage of the Mobile Defense Unit outside. The MDU's core, though damaged, still pulsed faintly where it lay amidst the debris.

  "That's it!" she gasped, sprinting toward it before anyone could stop her.

  The others watched in stunned silence as she skidded to her knees beside the MDU, wrenching open its access panel with shaking hands. The core inside was cracked, its glow uneven—but it was still functioning. Barely.

  "Come on, come on..." she muttered, prying it free with a sharp tug.

  She raced back to Victor's side, pressing the MDU's core against his own. For a terrifying moment, nothing happened.

  Then—

  A weak pulse. A flicker of light.

  The MDU's core dissolved into liquid energy, seeping into Victor's fractures like molten gold sealing broken pottery. His core stabilized, the glow returning—but dimmer, quieter. Scarred.

  Victor's voice, when it came, was softer. Rougher. "Pip... you reckless genius."

  She let out a choked laugh, tears streaming down her face. "Yeah, well, you're one to talk."

  But as Victor attempted to activate the Wagon-Fortress's systems, the reality of his condition became clear. The MDU's core had saved him, but it was smaller, weaker. His connection to the fortress was strained—he could no longer control multiple systems at once.

  "I can't gain control of my systems," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration.

  Aelin exhaled sharply. "Then that's what we work with."

  Borin nodded. "We all survived, we can figure out the rest later."

  Pip wiped her face, grinning despite everything. "And hey—now you've got fancy new scars. Very dramatic."

  Victor's core pulsed warmly, the golden fractures glowing in response. "Always knew you'd find a way to show off, Pip."

  Hale, forgotten in the chaos, slumped against the wall, his face ashen. The fight had gone out of him.

  Aelin turned her sharp gaze on him. "As for you..."

  Victor interrupted, his voice firm. "We're not killing him."

  Hale blinked in disbelief. "You'd spare me? After all this?"

  Stolen story; please report.

  "You're right about one thing,"Victor said. "The world is harsh. But we don't have to be."

  Pip crossed her arms. "That doesn't mean you won't face justice."

  Borin hefted his hammer meaningfully. "Not even a little."

  Hale swallowed hard, looking between them—then slowly raised his hands in surrender.

  As the group regrouped, Victor's core hummed steadily, its golden scars a testament to what they'd survived—and what lay ahead. They were weaker now, yes. But they were alive.

  And together, that was enough.

  The Weight of Sacrifice

  Victor's core pulsed weakly as he attempted to reconnect with the Wagon-Fortress's systems. The golden scars across his surface flickered with each effort, like strained circuitry pushed beyond its limits.

  "I... can't," he admitted, his voice fragmented with static. "The MDU's core isn't powerful enough to sustain multiple connections."

  Pip watched anxiously as Victor tried—and failed—to activate the fortress's secondary defenses. The mana relays sparked but didn't engage. The Clockwork Falcons remained dormant in their nests. Even the steam vents, usually hissing with constant readiness, stayed silent.

  Then—a single, familiar hum.

  S-01, the first Steam Sentinel ever built, shuddered to life in its alcove. Its glowing eyes brightened as Victor established a connection, the only one he could maintain. The other Sentinels remained dark, their systems unresponsive.

  "Just S-01," Victor confirmed, frustration bleeding into his tone. "I can feel the others... but it's like trying to grasp smoke."

  Pip placed a hand on the Sentinel's brass plating. "But S-01 still works?"

  The Sentinel turned its massive head toward her, its movements smooth despite Victor's strain. "Yes. Our bond is... strongest."

  Aelin crossed her arms. "Then we adapt. One Sentinel is better than none."

  Borin grunted, eyeing the dormant war machines. "And we've fought with less before."

  Victor made another attempt to activate the fortress's lighting grid. The overhead crystals flickered briefly before dying again. S-01 staggered slightly as the failed effort drained power from their shared connection.

  "No more attempts,"Victor said, resignation in his voice. "Every system I try to access weakens S-01's functionality. I have to focus."

  Borin grunted, eyeing the dormant machinery. "Then we do things the old-fashioned way." He hefted his hammer. "Manual controls still work, don't they?"

  Pip was already moving toward the control panels. "They should, but without Victor's coordination-"

  "It will be slower,"Victor interrupted. "Clumsier. But possible."His core dimmed slightly. "I'm sorry."

  Aelin's sharp gaze swept the chamber. "Don't be. You're alive. That's what matters." She turned to the others. "Pip on systems, Borin on defense. We'll be your hands until you recover."

  The faintest warmth pulsed through Victor's scarred core. "Thank you."

  Hale, still slumped against the wall, let out a hollow laugh. "So the great moving dungeon is just a broken machine now."

  S-01's head snapped toward him, eyes flaring. "Broken doesn't mean useless." The Sentinel took a thunderous step forward, its piston-driven fist clenching. "Shall I demonstrate?"

  Pip quickly stepped between them. "Victor! Conserve your energy!"

  The glow in S-01's eyes dimmed slightly as Victor reasserted control. "...He's right, though. I'm not what I was."

  Aelin placed a hand on S-01's armored shoulder. "You're alive. That's what matters."

  Borin hefted his hammer. "And we've still got teeth. Between S-01, your brain, and our weapons? We'll manage."

  As the group began assessing their remaining resources, Victor quietly tested his limits through S-01. The Sentinel's movements were crisp, but he could feel the fragility of their connection—like balancing on a fraying tightrope. Every system beyond this single Sentinel might as well have been on another continent.

  As they moved to their stations, the unspoken truth hung heavy in the air - no one knew if this damage was temporary... or permanent. The golden fractures glowed mockingly in the dim light, a constant reminder of how much they'd nearly lost.