Without even a glance downward, Vengelis soared over the rising carnage of the ruined Twin Cities. What if he was too late? What if there was nothing left to protect?

As he moved south Vengelis could see the imposing towers of Sejeroreich rise on the horizon. Above them, the sun loomed at high noon, and the sky was clear save for several pillars of black smoke that hung over the capital. From his distance Sejeroreich looked to be nearly in the same condition as the other burning cities he had bypassed. But in Sejeroreich many towers still stood, a testament to the hardened defenses of the city. He passed over columns of spires, the sound of screams and wails mixing with the indiscernible destruction. Many skyscrapers were gone, vanished into piles of rubble in the streets.

The sounds of war raged, and bedlam had taken hold of the city, but Sejeroreich was not completely lost.

Through the smoke he saw the Epsilon Palace still standing in the high ground of the city’s center. The Royal Tower was leaning dangerously to one side, and looked as though it may collapse any moment. It was horrible to behold; Vengelis thought of the sacred heirlooms that lay within. He could not imagine them lost. Vengelis turned to look in his wake; Master Tolland was too far behind to be visible, and Lord General Hoff and Darien were probably just passing Municera. Vengelis descended through the darkening sky and flew directly into the leaning Royal Tower, shattering through the stained-glass windows outside the War Hall.

A group of middle ranked soldiers standing guard in the hallway fell back in surprise as Vengelis crashed through the hundredth-story windows.

“Where is my family?” Vengelis asked at once.

They all breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the son of the emperor. One of the guards with a callow face gave him a trembling salute. “L-Lord Vengelis! The Imperial First Class has fallen!”

“Steady yourself.” Vengelis regarded the man’s fear with distaste. “Where is my family?”

“We’re not certain, my lord. The communication lines have been down for hours. The final transmission we heard was that the Epsilon family had been moved to the bunker underneath the palace barracks. Your father joined the battle alongside the Royal Guard and the Imperial First Class. We’ve received no word on their status. The machines . . . people are calling them Felixes . . . they are indestructible, my lord.”

“Indestructible?” Vengelis said.

“Y-Yes. People are saying it is the second coming of the . . . of the apocalypse, my lord.”

Vengelis lunged forward and struck the guard in his chest. The man launched backward into the opposite window and crashed through the decorated pane, falling with a scream into the daylight outside the tower. Vengelis turned to the rest of the guards, each of them looking meek and scared.

“Get to the front! You are Imperial soldiers. Is your Sejero blood so diluted that you have no strength or will left?”

Vengelis glared as they bowed and sprinted to the nearby stairs. He lifted off from the polished floor and flew out the shattered window. Rising high over the city, Vengelis examined the devastation occurring in the palace and surrounding blocks. Where were these machines? He had been expecting to see massive steel juggernauts or eclipsing ships overhead. All he could see were Primus—his people—running in every direction. He descended into the open air and landed outside the palace barracks. A regiment of imposing Imperial First Class guards stood at the tall gates.