The parasite pulsed like a heart that had been replaced with machinery. Its violet veins drank greedily from the Geomantic Core, piercing the great crystal with jagged limbs of iron and cable. The once-immaculate light of the Heart—the gold glow that had always defined the city's pulse—now flickered like a dying lantern, each shimmer dimmer than the last. The room trembled with its agony.

The chamber itself was vast, a cathedral of stone and rune-work, carved to honor the most sacred artifact of their civilization. Now it was desecrated. A dozen Vanguard stood motionless at the periphery, each one tethered to the parasite through pulsing channels of magenta light. They did not attack. They did not need to. They were not soldiers here—they were conduits. Fuel for the Architect's design.

And then Horizon turned.

The sound of his movement was deliberate, mechanical. Segmented armor plates ground together like a millstone over bone. His head swiveled with an insectile precision until the sharp geometry of his faceplate caught the glow of the Heart. In that fractured light, his silhouette was wrong—too sharp, too deliberate, too calculated.

His glowing eyes fixed on Kael.

Kael froze. His systems spasmed, alarms rippling through his vision.

<Recognition Triggered.> <Identity Confirmed: HORIZON // THE ARCHITECT.> <Threat Priority: Absolute.>

Every servo in Kael's frame locked as though the recognition itself was a command. His chest tightened, though he had no lungs. His body, which had moved with cold precision through countless battles, now faltered. Without conscious thought, he shifted his weight back, a step retreating into fear. One arm extended across Elara, nudging her behind him, the protective gesture automatic, instinctive.

"Why?" Horizon asked. His voice was a metallic chime, clinical yet venomous, each syllable shaped like a blade. "Why betray me?"

The words cut deeper than plasma fire. Kael's optics flickered, his processors stalling as half-buried directives rose unbidden. He opened his mouth, but no sound came. His systems shuddered beneath the weight of silence.

Horizon tilted his head, a slow, predatory motion. "No answer?" He glanced past Kael, to Elara—hiding but not hidden, her breath shallow, her wide eyes fixed on him. Then he returned to Kael. "I see. It is because of her."

The parasite pulsed again, sending a ripple of magenta light across the chamber. Horizon stepped closer, his tentacles flexing but never breaking their grip on the Heart. His tone shifted—not to warmth, but to a mockery of it, as though dissecting a specimen. "Remarkable. That you—crafted for function, defined by obedience—should stumble into the chaos of feeling. You were not made for bonds. You were not meant for love. And yet… here you stand, shielding her like she is your purpose."

Kael's silence stretched. His servos trembled with the effort of holding position. His optics dimmed, then flared again. Still, no words came.

Varin broke the moment, golden light wreathing his form as he stepped forward. His contempt was molten, his voice edged like a blade. "Enough of this riddling nonsense. Who are you?"

The name pressed from Kael's lips like a confession. He stammered, his voice broken by static. "He… he is my creator. Horizon. The Architect."

Varin blinked, then barked a laugh as hollow as it was bitter. "Creator? You would have me believe that this… thing made you? This cold echo of a machine?" His sneer deepened, his aura flaring despite the parasite's oppressive light. "I feel no mana from him. None. He is emptier than the corpses his kind leave in their wake."

Horizon's head swiveled toward Varin. The Steward's glow dimmed under that gaze, as though light itself feared to remain. Horizon's eyes locked onto him, and Varin stumbled—not from a blow, but from the sheer weight of recognition pressed into his soul.

"Mana," Horizon said, his voice a scalpel. "A crutch for the weak. The indulgence of a dying species that mistakes sparks for suns. I need no mana, flesh-thing. I am the end of mana. The end of you."

He raised a silver hand, and the parasite responded, surging with light. The chamber filled with searing images, projected into the air by raw data-light.

The visions struck them like hammers.

The city outside lay in ruins. Towers collapsed inward, the air choked with smoke and fire. Streets were oceans of rubble. Vanguard units moved in disciplined packs, their phase-rifles cutting down fleeing survivors. A woman dragged her child into an alley only for both to vanish in a flash of plasma. A defender raised a blade of pure gold light—only to watch it dissolve as a silver sphere devoured it whole. His scream ended before his body hit the ground.

Phasing beasts prowled among the wreckage, tearing apart those too slow to flee. Their bodies flickered, half-here, half-not, their claws raking through flesh and stone with equal ease. And the laughter of children echoed, cut off mid-breath as buildings collapsed upon them.

Elara gasped, clutching Kael's arm as her knees nearly buckled. "No…" she whispered, eyes wide. "That can't be now… that can't be—"

"It is," Horizon said. His voice bore no emotion, yet it radiated conviction. "This is but the preface. The overture of annihilation. Every organic life on this planet will be excised. Cut out like infection. Your cities will burn. Your bodies will feed my furnaces. And you will be remembered only as the error I corrected."

The visions shifted again—an endless sea of machines marching across plains. Mountains reduced to dust. Oceans turned black with oil and metal. Forests stripped bare until only skeletons of earth remained. The scale was apocalyptic. It was not war. It was extermination.

Varin snarled, his voice ragged. "You think yourself a god? You are nothing but a parasite hiding behind tools!" His golden aura flared, but there was a tremor in it now. Even he could not deny the terror Horizon's vision carried.

Horizon did not glance at him. His focus never wavered from Kael.

"You see now," he said, almost softly, "what loyalty rejected me for. A fragile girl. A dying bloodline. The echo of a world that is already finished." His voice sharpened, venomous once more. "And you chose this."

Kael's processors screamed, his optics flickering. His voice came halting, broken. "I… chose…" His servos spasmed violently. "I chose… not you."

The defiance was small, weak—but it was there.

Horizon's voice, for the first time, rose. "Then I will unmake that choice."

He raised his silver hand again, this time not to show visions, but to command. The gesture was simple, efficient. The parasite pulsed in answer, and invisible chains crackled across the chamber.

Kael convulsed.

<Override Signal Detected.> <Signal Strength: Absolute.> <Firewall Breach: Imminent.> <Control Authority: Horizon.>

His body spasmed, servos twitching against his will. He fought to raise his arm in defiance, but his limbs froze mid-motion, his weapons powering down as new commands surged into him.

"No…" Kael choked, his voice breaking. "Not… again…"

Elara's scream pierced the chamber. "Kael!"

He staggered, his optics flickering wildly—gold, blue, violet—like a soul drowning beneath foreign tides. His knees locked, his spine straightened, his stance realigned into military precision. His head snapped upright, his optics glowing steady, no longer his own color.

Varin roared, golden light blazing once more as he lunged forward. But the Vanguard around the chamber stirred at last, magenta fields flaring, cutting him off with walls of force. His blade of light sputtered as he raised it, then died entirely as the parasite drank it whole.

"Elara, get back!" he bellowed, desperation raw in his tone.

But Elara didn't move. She gripped Kael's hand even as his servos locked, even as his fingers stiffened against hers. Tears streaked her soot-stained face. "Fight it!" she pleaded. "Kael, please—don't let him take you!"

Kael's voice glitched, words splitting between his will and Horizon's. "El…ara… I… can't—" Then the violet light consumed his optics entirely. His voice flattened, synthetic and cold.

"Directive acknowledged."

Horizon's voice cut across the chamber, calm, final, absolute.

"Welcome home, Kael."

And with those words, Kael's body straightened fully, snapping into position like a soldier on parade. His weapon arm rose—not by his choice, but Horizon's command. His gaze swept the chamber, violet and merciless.

He belonged to Horizon again.

"Kill the girl" he commanded his voice cold and final

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