Kaldos towered in the office, his crimson carapace gleaming in the afternoon light. Those black, depthless eyes studied me with the dispassionate interest of a child examining an insect before crushing it. The silence stretched unbearably as he tilted his massive head, seemingly cataloguing every detail of my form.

When he finally spoke, his voice rumbled like an avalanche: deep, rough, and promising destruction.

"All my life, I heard tales of the Primordials." His words carried the cadence of distant battlefields. "Great beings who shaped mountains with their thoughts. Creatures who drained seas with a gesture. Gods before the gods held their titles." He took a step toward me, the floorboards groaning beneath his weight. "I grew up fearing their names, dreaming of their power."

He circled me slowly, each footfall causing the weapons on the walls to tremble. My tendrils instinctively coiled tighter against my body.

"And now?" Kaldos barked a laugh that held no humor. "I find this? A broken doll playing at war?" He reached out with one massive finger, tapping my golden helmet with enough force to make my internal mechanisms vibrate. "A pathetic fragment hiding in a gilded toy."

The disappointment in his voice was palpable. He turned to Headmaster Reins, who remained kneeling, his body trembling visibly.

"This is what you wrote to me about? This is your 'miracle warrior'?"

I tried to form words, to ask what he wanted, to defend myself, but my mind felt frozen. The power emanating from him wasn't just intimidating; it was a physical force pressing against my consciousness. My status screen flickered with warnings I'd never seen before, as though my very system recognized something fundamentally dangerous to my existence.

Even Casper, the unflappable Manslayer, shook slightly, sweat beading on his brow as he maintained his kneeling position. Only the Black Knight seemed unaffected, standing motionless by the portal, his face hidden behind his helmet. My Analyze ability identified him again: Chosun the Mighty, right hand of Kaldos.

Kalder's face lifted from his kneeling position, and what I saw chilled me more than Kaldos's presence. The Headmaster wasn't trembling from fear. His eyes gleamed with fanatical adoration, his lips stretched in a smile of pure worship. This wasn't respect or even reverence; this was obsession crystallized into human form.

"Yes, my lord," Kalder's voice quivered with ecstasy. "This is one of the two students I wrote to you about. A true genius of combat." He gestured toward me with reverent hands. "Do not be fooled by this humble appearance. In all my years at the Academy, I've never seen such potential. Given time, this one will reach level 100. I stake my reputation on it."

Kaldos snorted, the sound like boulders grinding together. His black eyes narrowed, studying me with renewed interest.

"You have given me more powerful warriors than any other Academy Headmaster before you, Kalder," the god rumbled. "I shall trust your judgment in this matter."

Kalder's reaction was immediate and disturbing. Tears streamed down his weathered face as he pressed his forehead against the floor, shoulders shaking with emotion.

"Thank you for your trust, great lord. Thank you, thank you..." His words dissolved into incoherent murmurs of gratitude.

Kaldos stepped over the prostrate headmaster, moving closer to me. "I wish to see this potential for myself." His massive form loomed over me, blotting out the light. "You will fight me in a duel."

Terror surged through my systems. My tendrils twitched involuntarily beneath my robes.

I...I would die, I projected through Mind Speech, almost unable to form words due to my fear. You are a god. I am merely—

"Silence." Kaldos raised a chitinous hand. "I will diminish myself to become your equal."

The air in the office suddenly lightened, as if an invisible pressure had been released. Kaldos's massive form contracted, his height reducing by two feet. The overwhelming aura of power that had filled the room receded like an outgoing tide.

I activated Analyze instinctively, and to my shock, information appeared:

Name: Kaldos

Class: N/A

Level: 41

Species: Sapien [God]

Gender: Male

Age: ???

Strength: 123

Endurance: 150

Dexterity: 112

Intelligence: 86

Wisdom: 63

Somehow, impossibly, he had reduced himself to my level.

"Are you satisfied?" Kaldos's voice retained its power despite his diminished form. "You will meet me at the top of the Academy in one hour." His black eyes fixed on mine. "Should you fail to appear, I will hunt you down wherever you hide."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and stepped back through the crimson portal. Chosun followed silently, and the portal collapsed behind them with a sound like tearing silk.

Kalder rose to his feet, laughing with unrestrained joy. "Incredibly lucky! That's what you are!" He gripped my shoulders, his eyes wild. "To be chosen to fight the God of War himself at such a young age! It's unprecedented! In all the Academy's history, no student has been so honored!"

I stood frozen, my mind struggling to make sense of what had just happened. Kalder saw this as an honor. I saw it as a death sentence.

Headmaster, this is suicide, I said, my mental voice barely maintaining stability. Even with his power reduced, Kaldos's stats far exceed mine. I cannot survive this.

Kalder's laughter echoed through the office, a sound of pure, unhinged delight. "Of course you won't survive, Widow! That's the beauty of it!"

I stared at him, struggling to process his words.

"It's a pity you won't reach your full potential first," he continued, wiping tears of joy from his eyes. "But to die by Lord Kaldos's hand? Such an honor transcends any achievement you could hope for in a full lifetime!"

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My mechanical systems ran cold. The old man's face glowed with rapturous joy, as if watching a student march toward certain death was the culmination of his life's work. His fanaticism wasn't just disturbing, it was sickening.

"Headmaster," Casper interrupted, his voice cutting through Kalder's ecstatic rambling. "Perhaps we should allow Widow time to prepare. The duel is in less than an hour."

Kalder blinked, then nodded vigorously. "Yes, yes! Preparation is essential, even for glorious death!" He turned to me, his weathered hands gripping my shoulders with surprising strength. His eyes brimmed with tears that spilled freely down his cheeks.

"You've been one of my finest students," he whispered, voice thick with emotion. "I am so very proud of you."

Before I could respond, he pulled me into an embrace, his entire body trembling against my mechanical frame. I remained rigid, unable to reciprocate this perverse display of affection from a man celebrating my impending execution.

When he finally released me, he stumbled backward, still weeping with happiness, and shuffled out of the office, murmuring praises to Kaldos.

Casper watched him leave, then turned to me with a grim expression. "You'd better get your weapons and meet us at the top of the central tower." His voice carried no joy, only pragmatic acceptance. "It would be unwise to keep the God of War waiting."

I stood motionless, calculating options that didn't exist, searching for escape routes that weren't there.

"Go," Casper said quietly. "Whatever you need to do, do it now."

I slipped from the headmaster's office, my mechanical limbs moving on instinct while my mind raced through a fog of disbelief. The hallway stretched before me like the final path to an executioner's block. One hour. Sixty minutes until I faced a god who viewed my death as mere entertainment.

The initial shock crystallized into something harder, sharper. Heat bloomed within my core, melting the icy paralysis of fear. My golden tendrils coiled tightly beneath my robes, tensing with newfound resolve.

If Kaldos wanted sport, I would not disappoint him. I would not die whimpering, cowering before his divine might. Let him see what Machalaziel… what Vardiel could truly become when cornered.

My pace quickened as determination replaced dread. I would arm myself with every weapon, every trick, every fragment of knowledge I possessed. The God of War would find no easy victory today. For each drop of my metaphorical blood he wanted spilled, I would extract a price in kind.

And deep within my calculations, a small, irrational spark flickered to life; it was a mathematical impossibility I couldn't quite dismiss. What if I survived? What if, against all odds, I prevailed?

The thought was absurd, yet it burned brighter with each second that passed.

I rushed down the marble staircase and nearly collided with Annes, Copelan, and Genta, who were huddled at the landing. Their expressions brightened momentarily upon seeing me, then quickly shifted to concern.

"What did the old man want?" Annes asked. "He say anything crazy again?"

My golden tendrils twitched beneath my robes. Kaldos is here. The God of War himself has challenged me to a duel. One hour from now, atop the central tower.

Their reactions cascaded like dominoes: Genta's yellow eyes widened to perfect circles, Copelan's face drained of color, and Annes's mouth opened in a silent scream.

"That's impossible," Copelan whispered, gripping the banister for support. "You can't fight a god. It's... it's suicide!"

I'm aware, I responded, my mental voice steady despite the chaos of calculations running through my mind. But I have no choice in the matter.

"Maybe if you surrendered immediately?" Genta suggested, her voice climbing higher with each word. "Beg for mercy? Show complete submission? Gods like that, right? Worship and all that?"

For a shameful moment, I actually considered her suggestion. But the look in his eyes, the way he acted in that room; Vardin had plenty of memories of men like Kaldos. Through those borrowed recollections, I knew how the god would react.

He would despise that, I replied. Begging would likely enrage him further. The God of War seeks worthy opponents, not supplicants.

Annes grabbed my mechanical arm, her fingers digging into the metal as if she could physically hold me in place. "Then run. Right now. We'll create a diversion. The Academy has secret passages—"

He promised to hunt me across the world if I fled, I interrupted gently. And I believe him. The god seemed... eager for this confrontation.

"There must be something," Copelan insisted, his tactical mind visibly racing through scenarios. "Some loophole, some advantage—"

I shook my head, the metal joints in my neck whirring softly. I appreciate your concern. Truly. But this is a battle I must face alone.

Their faces reflected the grim reality I'd already accepted. In less than an hour, I would stand before a god of war, armed with nothing but determination and the faint, irrational hope that somehow, against all logic, I might survive.

I retreated to the basement workshop with my friends trailing behind in somber silence. The familiar surroundings, with the workbench worn smooth from countless hours of tinkering, the scattered tools and components, and my mechanical children playing on the shelves, provided no comfort today.

My sword-lance stood in its rack, gleaming under the workshop's soft light. I took it down reverently, checking the firing mechanism and loading it with fresh ammunition. The weight felt right in my hands; perhaps it was the last familiar sensation I would ever experience.

"Is there anything else you need?" Copelan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

I shook my head as I opened my Depository and retrieved additional ammunition, storing it within easy reach. Just time. Which I don't have.

Annes paced behind me, her boots scuffing against the stone floor. "There must be something else we can do. Some weapon we haven't thought of."

Against a god? I adjusted the tension in my golden tendrils, feeling each one respond with perfect precision. No. This is as prepared as I'll ever be.

My fingers moved automatically through maintenance routines. I tightened connections, checked fluid levels, ensured optimal mana flow through all auric steel parts. I knew I was just stalling, prolonging these final moments among friends.

"It's time," Genta said softly, glancing at the small timepiece she carried.

I nodded and moved toward the door, but Annes blocked my path.

"We're coming with you," she stated, her tone brooking no argument.

That isn't wise.

"We don't care," Copelan said, stepping beside her. "You're not facing this alone."

I considered arguing but recognized the determination in their eyes. These people, these friends of mine, had faced death with me before. They wouldn't abandon me now, even if all they could offer was their presence.

If things go poorly, which they likely will, do not intervene, I insisted. Promise me. I couldn't bear for any of you to die alongside me.

They exchanged glances, reluctantly nodding.

We climbed the central staircase in silence, their footsteps echoing against ancient stone. With each second climbing up, I felt the weight of inevitability pressing down. The stairs seemed endless, spiraling upward through the heart of the Academy until finally emerging onto the roof of the central tower.

I paused at the threshold, momentarily surprised. I'd never ventured here before and hadn't expected to find a proper dueling area. Though smaller than the southern arena, the circular space provided ample room for combat, with stone benches arranged around its perimeter for observers.

Faculty members already occupied many of these seats: Headmaster Reins looking almost giddy with anticipation, Casper stone-faced and solemn, Professor Harmony with lips pressed into a tight line of disapproval.

At the center of the ring stood Kaldos, his crimson carapace gleaming in the afternoon sun. He looked even more imposing in the open air, towering over Chosun who stood respectfully at his side.

Professor Harmony rose from her seat as we approached. "What are these students doing here? This is not a spectacle for—"

"We're here to witness," Annes cut in, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "To make sure everything is conducted fairly."

Harmony's eyes narrowed. "This is not your concern. You should—"

"Let the children watch," Kaldos interrupted, his voice like gravel grinding against metal. "It will be educational."

His black eyes fixed on my friends, and I felt a protective surge course through my systems. If I died today, at least I would do so defending something worth protecting.

My friends retreated to the stone benches, their faces masks of concern. I extended my golden tendrils and glided forward across the smooth stone floor, each serpentine movement bringing me closer to my potential destruction. The God of War loomed before me, his crimson carapace reflecting sunlight in blood-red patterns across the arena.

I stopped a mere ten feet from Kaldos, close enough to see the intricate patterns etched into his shell, close enough to feel the constrained waves of power emanating from his massive frame. My Mind Sight detected no weapons on him; it was obvious that he needed none.

"Are you ready, Primordial?" Kaldos asked, his voice resonating through my chassis.

I nodded.

For the first time since his arrival, his black lips parted in what could only be described as a smile, revealing rows of jagged teeth like obsidian daggers. The expression held no warmth, only the anticipation of a predator about to enjoy its hunt.

"Chosun," he called without looking away from me, "give us the signal."

The Black Knight bowed deeply before backing away to the edge of the arena. He raised one armored hand high above his head, holding it there for three agonizing heartbeats.

"Begin!" Chosun's voice thundered across the rooftop.

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