The east quadrant of the battlefield smoldered with residual heat from Hermes' Zone, but the real storm was forming elsewhere.
Aphrodite stepped lightly across the shattered ground, almost like she was dancing. Her crimson biocore pulsed with an intoxicating rhythm, releasing a soft pink haze into the air. She tilted her head, long silver hair waving unnaturally as if pulled by unseen strings.
"So brutish," she mused, watching the two heirs land in front of her.
Magnus arrived first, clad in ceremonial gold mech-armor lined with sunburst engravings. Ten golden rings hovered around him like a miniature solar system, each one glowing faintly with heat and motion. His arms, layered in rotating metal plates, hissed with pressure—each coin-like railgun chamber locked and ready. Only five of the suns flared bright. The others remained dormant.
