Halo Fortress Main Keep
Before the Prison Riot
Before the Prison Riot, Halo Fortress Main Keep
[player name] died thirty years ago.
Click—the trigger is pulled.
...But you look... You look just as young as you were thirty years ago. How is that possible?
I sense no power of the Sanctuary within you, but the dream nets didn't react, either.
You... what exactly are you?
A violent buzzing pierces your mind like needles drilling into bone. Right now, you can't process the Death of Iron's confusing words.
An overwhelming, suffocating pressure seizes your mind, like countless blades scraping against each other next to your ears, wildly tearing at your eardrums.
Urgh... can't... move.
You focus your mind on fighting it. This is the only way to break free from control, just like in your previous battle with the Archangel.
Suddenly, the dreamcatcher on Death of Iron's desk begins to tremble.
A storm sweeps through the fortress. Clear, resonant chimes ring from every corner, converging like rivers flowing into the sea and rising together into earth-shattering noise.
This means that Watanabe has begun the military operation to seize the fortress.
—?!
Momentarily surprised by the Demon's sudden intrusion, Death of Iron's imposing aura falters.
You seize this moment—
Swish-slash—
Using both arms, you shield your head with all your strength as you crash into the glass window beside you.
Nauseating weightlessness suddenly crawls up your spine, and as the world spins, you cry out—
The raven shrieks as she dives down, sweeping over the chaotic military formations below. Gray feathers trail behind her as she changes form in mid-air and catches you in her embrace.
...[player name], are you hurt?
Copy.
Nirvatia beats her black wings as she holds you tightly and dives toward the fortress gates.
You draw a sidearm from your waist. It's the one Morigan had hidden before you entered the city.
Then, aiming at the blood-red sun overhead, you pull the trigger.
Demons have infiltrated the fortress! Patrol units, tighten security! Don't let even a fly slip through!
Yes, sir!
After noticing signals from the dreamcatcher, about a hundred soldiers quickly assemble into emergency formation, hastily setting up defenses around the city gates against the brewing storm.
Hey, so your squad got called, too, huh?
I heard that you were playing cards with some prisoners one time, and when one of them called your bluff, you shot him dead. Is that true?
No, that's not true. I shot everybody dead.
Ah, screw it, forget about cards. I got dragged out here to stand guard right after I finally drew a damn good hand.
Why are you complaining? They're hunting Demons inside, while we're just here soaking up some sun and waiting to get paid.
Anyway, we've killed off most of the rebels already, so who else could—
Whoosh—A sharp, prolonged noise pierces the sky behind them.
The soldiers turn around in terror as a red signal flare streaks through the sky, leaving a trail of flame and slicing a brilliant gash across the heavens.
Wh-what's that?!
Sir! It's a signal flare!
Fool! I mean over there—!
Hearing the officer's horrified voice, everyone turns in alarm toward the distant horizon.
In the billowing smoke, countless black figures emerge.
The shadows steadily grow larger, soon merging into a single, formidable battle line.
At the very front, a gray battle flag juts into the sky and flutters in the wind, guiding the soldiers' advance.
Warriors! Thirty years ago, on this soil beneath our feet, our fathers faced blades and spilled blood. They charged fearlessly until they drove the Demons back to Hell!
For thirty long years, the Sanctuary has twisted our history, clipped our wings, and kept us penned like livestock in the sun. We were reduced to tail-wagging beasts begging for scraps.
Now it's our turn to take up our fathers' banners and set the stage for revolution once more!
Warriors! Today is our day! Let these traitors see who the real beasts are, and who the true butchers are!
A whistle cuts through the air, followed by deafening roars that rattle mountains and plains.
Charge—!!!
Horse hooves trample the earth with unstoppable force, charging toward the fortress defenses. Dust billows like surging ocean waves.
En-enemy attack!!
Everyone, prepare for bat—
Gurgk...!
The sandy ground beside the officer suddenly collapses, and a black shadow bursts out at lightning speed. With swift, precise strikes, the phantom drives its blade straight into his heart.
Who? Ugh...!
You...!
A cold gleam flashes. Gunpowder smoke drifts through the air as two corpses fall like cut sticks, terror frozen on their faces as they plunge into the blood-soaked mud.
...
At the same time, waves of anguished cries and gunfire echo from various points below the city.
As the rebel forces advance like a surging tide, assassins wipe out the guards before they can mount a counterattack.
Clang... clang...
The city gate slowly rises as dark red rust flakes off like congealed blood. The grinding hinges are drowned out by gunfire, like a dying giant knocking on the gates of Hell.
At the end of darkness, you and Nirvatia walk upon the sea of corpses, slowly emerging from the city gate and bathing in the radiance of rebirth.
Gunfire and battle cries surge like a rising wave, growing more intense and staining the decayed earth blood red in response to [player name]'s call.
This is the moment when all of humanity's humiliation and fear transform into unstoppable wrath.
It ignites the <phonetic=war><color=#ff4e4eff>furnace</color></phonetic> powerful enough to devour the old world and fuel rebirth.
Halo Fortress
Meanwhile
Halo Fortress.
Attack!!
A dozen rebel soldiers charge ahead. They are the first to break into the fortress's main keep.
Drop!
The defending soldiers hiding on both sides pull the ropes in unison, and the main keep's open iron gate comes crashing down with a thunderous roar.
Aim—
Fire!!!
The muskets fire at the same time, belching scalding smoke as the flames instantly engulf the enemies.
Agonized wails fill the air as the warriors charging at the front collapse, dying in pools of blood.
Forward!!
The survivors from the rear trample over their fallen comrades, charging into the bloody smoke and gunpowder, and continue their assault with unwavering resolve.
Hold the line!! We must stop the rebels here!!
Kill them all!! Long live the Iron Army! Long live Generalissimo Death of Iron!!
The defenders have no time to reload and are forced to use bayonets for a counter-attack. Amid deafening battle cries, both sides clash in brutal close-quarters combat.
Bloodshot, murderous eyes lock onto each other as countless vicious, bloodthirsty faces clash, tearing each other apart in the crimson mist.
In the gruesome battle of flying blood and flesh, both sides have squads of soldiers crouching in the rear, advancing with the front line.
Armed with daggers, they check each corpse on the ground one by one. Whenever they find a body with an intact heart, they drive their blades deep between the ribs.
"Sendaway"—this is what people in the Age of Cataclysm call the practice of clearing battlefields and preventing corpses from transforming.
Form ranks! Volley fire formation—
War drums beat as the defending forces in the rear regroup, quickly forming a line with the front rank kneeling and the rear rank standing.
Get out of the way! Move!
Aim—
While their comrades fight on the front line, the defenders raise their muskets, aiming into the chaotic battlefield where friend and foe are impossible to distinguish.
Assault squad! This way, follow me!
Yes, sir!
In this critical moment, the veteran makes a split-second decision and leads a few soldiers carrying explosives in a flanking charge.
Everyone, get down.
...Watanabe?!
Suddenly, a military command thunders through every rebel soldier's mind, echoing so clearly it feels like the voice is speaking directly into their ears.
Get down!!
Almost simultaneously, the rebel soldiers break free from their fights and dive to either side.
Wh-what's happening?!
Sir... the g-gate!
Oh n-no, the Halo Cannon!!
A streak of golden light appears, melting through the steel walls.
Soon, countless brilliant beams of light follow, piercing through the main keep like a rainbow, tearing the world apart as they surge forward with thunderous roars.
Loud roars shake heaven and earth as the impenetrable fortress crumbles, collapsing like a withered tree in a storm and falling into ruin.
Brilliant torrents of energy vaporize everything in their path, like a massive sword forged from fused meteors. Its blade roars upward, tearing the crimson demon fortress vertically apart, shaking heaven and earth.
The miracle from thirty years past transcends time, descending once more upon humanity.
BOOM—
...Cough, cough cough!
The officer clears away the sand and stones pinning him down as scalding blood spatters across his face like rain.
Anyone... anyone still alive?
—Eek?!
Suddenly, an iron grip lifts him up from the sea of blood and presses a sharp blade against his throat.
The war is over... for now.
The crimson knight wipes the sticky blood from their face and basks in the glow of victory.
A massive cannon towers behind him. Its barrel stretches several meters long and is forged entirely from Sanctuary mithril. Searing, deadly heat still billows from its gaping mouth.
Loaded with ordinary shells yet capable of destroying entire cities, this deadly weapon once slew gods and was revered as the pinnacle of human technology before the Cataclysm.
"Halo Cannon! Halo Cannon!"
—Cry the humans rallying by the knight.
Open your damn eyes and see! Who overpowered this hotbed of violence? Who crushed the arrogant pride of you worthless scum!
A pillar of light illuminates the battlefield, like a spear piercing through the clouds, shining on the faces of countless avengers.
D-don't kill me, I surrender!
What about the innocents who died under your murderous blades? When they begged for mercy on their knees, did you ever show them this twisted, despicable face?
I'm the quartermaster! I know lots of secrets! I'll be useful if you keep me alive!
Silence! The Army's Eagle Banner is ashamed of your cowardice and treachery. The reborn world will forever condemn your betrayal.
I, Watanabe, in the name of the true fourth Generalissimo of the Iron Army, now declare my final judgment on you, filthy traitors of Halo Fortress—
D-Death of Iron is still alive!!!
Watanabe hesitates just as his blade pierces the flesh.
I know... I know where he is...
Urgh—ahhh!!
Before he can finish, monstrous tentacles pierce his chest from behind.
Blood sprays onto Watanabe's face.
Behind the collapsed corpse, countless gleaming tentacles slowly rise, like a venomous octopus going for its prey.
Watanabe will never forget the person who wields this monstrous power.
Words from the defeated are the most vicious of deceptions. This is the second time I've had to teach you that.
At the sight of that twisted face they so utterly despise, the surrounding rebel fighters glare and grit their teeth, burning with rage.
Blood for blood!!
A veteran soldier holds up his blade and charges ahead of the formation.
Death of Iron!!
The soldiers follow closely behind, charging past bloody corpses toward their common enemy.
The enemy stands motionless, chin raised slightly in contempt.
Golden light flickers in his pupils as he gazes down upon a swarm of ants making their final, futile attempt.
Submit.
The clamorous battlefield instantly falls into deathly silence.
—?!
...Gk!
Time seems to freeze. Every soldier is frozen in place, eyes wide but unable to move.
These are shackles that only Demons can break free from.
Ballard!!!
A roar tears through the silence as crimson lightning streaks forth, plunging into the blinding golden thorns.
The tentacles can't keep up with the Demon Knight's speed. Watanabe raises his Trailblade high and strikes Death of Iron's face with a momentum so fast it breaks the sound barrier, imperceptible to humans.
Clang!
Too slow.
Blades clash, sending sparks flying in all directions. A powerful shockwave sends the mind-controlled soldiers flying and crashing into the ruins.
Death of Iron's blade suddenly drops as he steps to the side, driving his knee hard into Watanabe's abdomen, snapping bones.
He then immediately extends his right leg, kicking Watanabe several meters away and smashing the stone wall ahead to pieces.
—Gahk!
Get up! Did you forget everything I taught you?
Death of Iron raises his sword and walks into the swirling dust.
Right then, the sound of steel striking the ground echoed through the ruins.
...My mentor would never be reckless enough to walk into an enemy trap.
The crimson firearms scattered across the battlefield rise one by one, taking the place of fallen soldiers to form battle lines that completely surround Death of Iron.
Hah. Demon's little tricks.
Listen... to the wrath of this land!
The moment the barrage erupts, the golden tentacles on Death of Iron's back suddenly twist and contract, lashing wildly around his body in all directions to form a constantly shifting golden barrier.
Gunfire erupts from all directions, and crimson blood rains down as the rebels charge toward the defensive line formed by the golden tentacles.
The battlefield suddenly transforms into a blazing whirlpool, with scorching bullets falling like broken pearls, crackling as they hit the ground.
Haargh—!
Having regained the upper hand through overwhelming firepower, Watanabe grips his weapon tightly and charges forward in a low crouch.
Using his vision enhanced by demonic power, he finds a blind spot that the tentacles cannot fully protect.
Going against an enemy whose techniques shift in the blink of an eye, Watanabe quickly makes a decision—
(An opening!)
Watanabe seizes the perfect moment to strike with full force at the weak point in the iron barrier's otherwise flawless defense.
I got you.
?!
The tentacles suddenly stop swaying and thrust outward like thorns.
Watanabe suddenly stops his attack, jumps back, and raises both arms in defense.
Countless tentacles brush straight past him to coil around the firearms spitting flames of fire.
Hmph. On our journey to seal the Rift of Chaos, the Demons slain by the Three Ashfire Heroes were far beyond anything you mortal fools could imagine.
The golden, thorned tentacles seem to have extraordinary power. They coil tightly around the firearms like pythons suffocating their prey.
Even the Locust Flame Demons under <phonetic=Death Lord>Nyarlathotep's</phonetic> command cowered at the sight of my blade...
What makes you think you can defeat me by serving the Demons?
The tentacles coil and slam down with immense force. Dozens of demonic firearms shatter like glass, dissolving into swirling crimson powder.
Useless. As long as I have strength left, these firearms will keep appearing.
As he speaks, the shattered weapons reassemble and turn into a new batch of firearms that continue circling around Watanabe.
Tch. Looks like the conditions for agents to use abilities are the same, whether they're Angels or Demons.
The tentacles behind Death of Iron violently thrust forth again, and just like before, they bite down tightly on the weapons Watanabe summoned.
What comes next is a deadly struggle of stamina and willpower.
You fought your way in here with such effort. How can you still sound so calm and confident?
I have my reasons... I must win.
Watanabe wipes the fresh blood from the corner of his mouth and looks at his comrades lying motionless on the ground.
Heh...
Death of Iron laughs disdainfully. He pauses his assault and turns to face the distant battlefield where battle cries are shaking the heavens.
We need to get more people... to witness the final moments of your arrogant ideals.
A quiet death would be meaningless for either of us. Let's go where more people can witness our duel.
A hundred years from now, the Sanctuary's chroniclers will write your stubborn resistance and death as a mere footnote in the Iron Army's suppression of chaos and restoration of order.
Hearing his enemy's arrogant conclusion, Watanabe responds with a defiant smile.
Your arrogant declaration means absolutely nothing to this revolution.
I don't know what kind of power the Supreme Heaven gave you to so completely corrupt human consciousness—turning a once-invincible Vice Generalissimo into a butcher who now only slaughters his own people.
But as a member of the Iron Army and as the son of Generalissimo Gyrfalcon, I must bring justice to the Three Ashfire Heroes who once fought for the people.
I will kill you, for the <b>real</b> Ballard, for those still fighting, and for those who can no longer fight!
The shell that has become a Sanctuary agent sneers in response.
...Are you ready to have your real final lesson?
On the bloody ground, gunfire rumbles like frenzied war drums and moves ever closer.
Watanabe straightens his hat and swings his Trailblade in a clean motion, shaking off the blood.
Bring it on. Let this war's finale be the backdrop for our duel.
We shall fight with our blood until death claims us!
The two men walk toward the even grander and more magnificent battlefield—
Toward the grave that awaits them.
Toward a future that will devour the past.
