Iron Lord calmly observed the debacle unfold itlement, unmoving and uhing like a statue. Were it not for the occasional snort of his steed, he could easily be mistaken for an automaton. His personal guard formed a semicircle around their leader, the fi bat ptes that the Merts’ arsenals and his own mind could provide. Rivers of gold formed the shapes of a hand breaking an arrow and a cruel jaw, dev the world on their chests; their shoulders and vambraces glittered, encrusted with diamonds, rubies, and gems. Some wore cloaks, more painted parts of their armor to stand out.

  In parison, he was a beggar against them. plete grayness covered every millimeter of his gigantic power armor. The lenses of his bucket helmet were gray, and so was his give. Even the field of distortion around its bde shared this color. There was no trace of soot or dirt on the smooth curves of long ounted upon his shoulders, and the geor at his back worked silently. A simple and somewhat shy yellow symbol on his shoulder, scrawled by children’s hands, spoiled the ideal gray image. heless, no sane hordeman would have dared to mistake him for a the Grand ander of Mad Hatter, the Subjugator of the Nations, and a great khan. There were many more titles the priests, sycophants, and khans had vished upon him, but he didn’t deem it worthwhile to remember them. The three were enough.

  Wires ected directly to his brain carried data feeds from the battlefield. Human, ordinary eyes of Iron Lord had long since proven their inadequacy. They were slow, quickly tired, and unperceptive. Pure information streaming into his cerebral cortex allowed Iron Lord to see through his own lenses and the visors of his troops.

  He was with a hordeman who brawled against a doggy in the ruins as the two exged brutal punches aions before the pureblood had she doggie’s neck. His triumph was short-lived; a shadow reached out of the smoke, and the e was severed. Dead. He had been there wheillery had gone up in a series of bsts, their crews caught unaware. He saw Camelia survive as Widowmaker’s bde missed her heart by a hair. His eyes watched and directed the main advance, patiently accepting the folly of Brood Lord’s minions and adjusting his pns.

  Mungke had been told not to attack recklessly, but, as expected, the fool had utterly disregarded his advice. Fair enough. A lone missile left the walls, fired by a surviving group of defenders. Iron Lord’s thunder bull barely batted an eye when the missile exploded against the repulsion field surrounding the Khan. An ion on on his shoulder moved to aim at the tracked target and barked orbs of energy. Upon hitting the se of the walls, these orbs expanded inte bubbles, trapping the soldiers ihe bodies were lit for a millised and burned away entirely.

  There was grumbling of his warriuarding the artillery ons. They too had caught the urgent requests for aid and were impatient to pluhe hospital, fident in their ability to disable the minefield. Short-sighted idiots. It was true, doctors were valued more than gold, more than teis even. But they failed to uand why Iron Lord had forbidden any approach to the building and why he was biding his time.

  Patience was Iron Lord’s credo and the name of his give. Recimers weren’t that inpetent, he had cluded from their resistance. Where were the guards of the hospital? Why were their fortifications silent when the Horde pulverized them to dust? Negligence happened in war; he had seen it numerous times, but a plete ck of response suggested a trap. Mungke had already fttened himself with his daring charge, and Iron Lord was willing to bet his own life that this juicy target had bee exposed on purpose. It would be child’s py to demihe area and send a team to iigate, but Iron Lord chose a different path, ohat involved exploiting the eagerness and mistrust of his current enemies.

  Every nd they quered, he, Mad Hatter, and Brood Lord meticulously studied beforehand. Whether it was another pathetic faith, culture, or teology, they tried to at for every scrap of knowledge. The Recmation Army was an enigma; their traders and travelers rarely visited the far west. Sky Lord’s demise and early losses were both infuriating and enlightening, shedding light on the Wolf Tribe’s tactics. Like the Horde, they favored speed and were capable of simir cruelty. Uhe Horde, however, their true potential was shackled by a silly notion of honor that belonged on a stage py, not in war.

  Iron Lord listeo the prisleaning clues and information even from their insults. He ortured, seeing such depravity worthy of degees like Brood Lord, and seeking to eradicate such rot from the orderly forces of the khaganates who submitted to him. Drugs looseongues just as well, with no dao the health of his future bondsmen and sves. No soldier cooperated willingly, even when offered freedom, impressing and enlightening Iron Lord about the potential quality of the Recimers’ elites.

  Mad Hatter was the one who, after interrogating three different prisoners, procimed that the Order and the Wolf Tribe would never work together. Iron Lord didn’t follow her reasoning and tihe war assuming she was wrong, but events had proven her right. He still had no idea how she had e to that clusion. The khatun’s brain worked very differently.

  The spy’s information was the st part of the puzzle. Ice Fangs and Wolfkins. Two sibling breeds of Purebloods. It didn’t matter if they peted among themselves out of rivalry or mistrust. What mattered was the white-furred’s brief visit to the hospital and their swift retreat. His troops had failed to make visual tact, but that fact aloed Iron Lord’s vi of the trap.

  Then the ued charge toward the hospital puzzled him. He thought he had given the eoo much credit, but then it dawned on Iron Lord that he had ordered his eo disrupt unications at all costs.

  They didn’t know. These valuable targets, these warlords, had no idea of the true purpose of the location. The extent of mistrust betweewo groups was far greater than he could have ever hoped for. Even he occasionally assisted Brood Lord’s troops, coordinating their joint advances. How amusing. Usually it was Brood Lord’s influehat caused the rot. Here, it was good old-fashioned pride. To further ehem, a light artillery barrage was unleashed on the hospital.

  The hour to reap the rewards drew nearer. His ocurs pierced the distance of several kilometers, showing him figures of the warlords plowing their way through Muroops.

  Good. Three valuable targets. Irrepceable in the short term, unlike Mungke.

  The sensors of his armor detected a familiar stride behind. Iron Lord refused to turn around, calmly the battlefield and reading through reports. Positions of his part of the Horde were reinforced by automatic turret empts, which had already thwarted oempt on his life by the white-furred. Any imitation would meet the same fate. His loyal sons and daughters stood ready to guard his back.

  “Where is Dantai?” he asked at st. The priest insisted on visiting the pce to persecute the unbelievers. He had bee overly eager for his duties after Mad Hatter had spared the surviving cleri the st realm.

  “Got himself killed by a warlord, Khan,” came the answer of the cursing soldier. The man had been in charge of ten men and now ended up leading two thousand. “That idiot didn’t even wear a helmet.”

  Iron Lord decided he liked this individual.

  “That won’t keep him down.”

  “Khan?” The warrior hesitated. “Dantai is dead.”

  Brave enough to speak his mind. It would be a shame to let him die under Brood Lord.

  “You’ll see,” Iron Lord promised. “Where is the warlord?”

  “She joined a sword saint who murdered Amal, and the bitches are on their way to the southern bridge.”

  “Aowledged,” the khan responded. “Do not pursue them. Form your ranks and secure the pce. If any of Mungke’s sons try to be uppity, inform him that he is going against me. Don’t be rude so that I don’t have to kill them, for my wife loves her brothers, but don’t let them run roughshod over you either.”

  How should he inform his precious about her father’s death? She hated the old fart, so maybe a basket of local wine and a moonlight dinner would do the trick? Hopefully she wouldn’t mind being a khatun. There was no reason not to have another khaganate under his rule.

  “As you wish, Khan!” The man’s relief was audible.

  The news about another warlord warranted his attention. A warlord w with a sword saint? He raised his fist and sighe teis to increase the output of the unications jammer, filling the settlement with white he tremors that rippled across the ground annouhe approach of the Sky’s Wrath.

  “And here goes Mungke. How very sad,” said Brood Lord, standing beside Iron Lord.

  The reports of his rival’s injuries were proven to be exaggerated. Brood Lord’s green power carapace had already been repced; fresh protective ptes covered the fiber muscles over his six legs. His bde rested on his shoulder, the vislowed, showing the smirking face within, and the man himself moved nimbly, nearly prang despite his impressive weight.

  “I warned him against the headstrong charge. His idiocy is not my bother,” Iron Lord replied in a bored tohe dynamics of his helmet synthesizing the speeto bombastic mockery.

  “To think that he and I had such great phings of the past.” Brood Lord shook one shoulder. “You know, Iron Lord, there is a thing that keeps b me. Mungke and his troops were always a bit reckless. Kind of strange sending this rowdy bun the first wave against an experienced oppo, doesn’t it? I know that some of your also went missing, but by the Sky, some might say that you are deg me while sacrifig the dregs to maintain an illusion of innoce…”

  “Illusio’s talk about delusions. Your senseless escapade was supposed to scare the Third into staying in Houstad. But here we are, and the bck-furred had prevented my troops from g the life of a sword saint. Their auxiliary units are on the horizon, raining hell on the crucial bridge. If you have failed to achieve this much, if your hounds are so undisciplined as to ignore valuable advice, then the fault lies with their immediate master. I am not their wet nurse.” Iron Lord traced the prize’s movements. They reached the edge of the minefield aured in unopposed. Curious. Their armor must have emitted aification signal that his jammers couldn’t stop.

  “I would’ve never dared to imply that your leadership or skills in any area are so impressive…” Iron Lord briefly activated cameras on his arm and spotted a sly smile on Brood Lord’s face. “Say, with Mungke’s demise, his alliaween you and him is moht? Do you still have any use for his daughter? Because if not, I heard she’s quite a…”

  Patience’s scream rang through the air, the quivering disruption field of its edge stopping just short of Brood Lord’s neck. Iron Lord sehe rising tension iroops apanying the bastard and a surge e streaked from Drozna, threatening to disrupt his tration. The impnts in his brain kicked in, lessening the effects of the emotional manipution to a manageable level. Priests and Brood Lord’s minions shouted loudly, demanding Iron Lord to stand down. Phaser dropped into a crouch, preparing to open portals; the s near him brandished their daggers, and Iron Lord’s personal guard closed in, eager to put ao the dispute between the khans.

  Purebloods waited. Those of them who had sided with Brood Lord approached hesitantly, ready to support their leader. But most of them shared the same se. How dare he!? It was fihis was the era when monsters ruled the world. Gifted with unparalleled abilities by biology itself, these Purebloods sidered themselves above normal humans. Such as Iron Lord.

  He wasn’t of their kind, a Dirtyblood, or even a Malformed like Brood Lord. He was a Normie, a Mert, a human of the caste that produced ons and vehicles for the Gilded Horde. Mad Hatter snared him when the Merts tried to resist her rule. She asked him then—a living god standing over the lowliest of humans—if he was ready to admit defeat. He spat in her fad said he wasn’t.

  The Khatun ughed away the insult and released him uhe dition that he would join her army, as she was curious to see how far his stubbornness would carry him. Iron Lord burst into the Merts’ cil chambers, posing as a messenger from Mad Hatter to gain access to the secret chambers taining his people’s most prized teological secrets. It was a risk, but he was done losing. There he had assembled his first suit from the a schematid had been updating it ever since.

  Many were awed by the size of his armor, but few noticed how close his ocurs were on the helmet. Beh his steel was a human body, whose loy was extended far beyond natural limits thanks to the impnts and artificial ans.

  Amusement brought a smile to his hardened lips after he remembered the surprised faces of his wives when he revealed his true body to them. Political marriages were a tradition among the khaganates, and Iron Lord was married to sixty beautiful women whose devotion and acceptance of him had earhem his undying loyalty.

  Iron Lord didn’t particurly care for his offspring. If they ignored his teags, fooled around, and died, it was on them. But their frailty was his responsibility. A unioween a Pureblood and a Normie gave birth to a Dirtyblood, and a Dirtyblood and a Normie in turn produced a Normie. Weakness begat weakness; hence, in nature, the stro beasts cimed a right to bred. And knowing of his inferior pedigree, khans offered him their Dirtyblood daughters. Only the smallest were willing to part with their Pureblood children.

  He rectified the crime of failing his children by grafting strength onto their bodies. Their bones were melted and repced by sturdier analogs. Impnts accelerated their reas and perceptions. Artificial ans and medical iors stood ready to save them from near death. Teology elevated them far above a on Pureblood.

  Iron Lord inteo show Mad Hatter just how strong the normal humans could be.

  Brood Lord rolled his eyes, mogly trying to push aatience’s edge with a single fihe fool knew of its sharpness when the portable geor was active, aill dared to try to irk him even now.

  “It is pleasing to see a spark of emotions in that coffin of yours,” remarked Brood Lord. “With all that beeping and peeping, wires and oil, I was w if there was a Normie there still, or if that is all metal now.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t dare to imply anything,” Iron Lord mundanely tihe earlier versation, ign the insult. “Because, unlike you, I never slip up. The only reason you and I haven’t met in a circle is because your ambitions serve as an amusing diversion from the daily routine of iable victories. But I grow tired of jokes. It is time to end this foolish charade of resistance. Brood Lord Khan, do the honors, since your troops are so incapable.”

  Iron Lord removed Patience away from Brood Lord’s ned smacked him lightly on the back with the give’s shaft.

  “Sending me headfirst into a battle, eh?” Brood Lrinned, running a finger over the edge of his curved bde.

  Iron Lred at him.

  “Fine, fine, here I go again, g lives for lorious Khatun and fixing the mess of the inpetent and the cowardly. But do hurry to join the fray, will you, Iron Lord Khan? Otherwise, people might mistake you for a rust-lord Khan.” Brood Lhed aured for his crew to follow him.

  Phaser, always eager to please, jumped forward, tearing the space before Blood Lord. The twins joiheir master, while Drozna stomped right up to Iron Lord, leaning closer and sniffing the steel. Drozna growled at the thunder bull’s grunt, and in respohe shoulder on shifted, its barrel trained on the monstrous mug.

  “While you were hiding in the rear, Brood Lord Khan collected the head of a sword saint and trampled two warlords into the dirt. Show my master due respect, Khan.” Drozna ched his fists, filling the air with wet pops of his joints. “Or someone might just crumple that pretty helmet of yours while beating it into you.”

  Is this yame? Iron Lord wondered calmly. He wasn’t of the Horde. He didn’t share their values or ideals, and the priests k. Mad Hatter didn’t care, but with Dantai indisposed, they might aot alone, but Brood Lord’s personal guard was here; his troops were drawing near, while Svetaker and Widowmaker, the champions of Iron Lord, were far away. His forces were itted, while his rival’s were vely verging on this location. Angered by his treatment of a khan of his rank, a hand would strike and…

  It wasn’t a big deal. Even alone, he would struggle, fighting to the st alongside his children. But he wasn’t foolish either. While Brood Lord was away, the iations were pleted and the pacts were made. Iron Lord left nothing to ce.

  A light shone down upon them, and Drozna looked into the sky, shielding his eyes with an arm. A figure desded from above, wreathed in a cloak of fmes and smoke, easily matg Drozna in both height and stature. He nded softly, immediately setting the grass around Iron Lord abze aing the Khan’s mail cape. An intense heat emanating from the fiendish figure drove Drozna back, eveing a few s from Brood Lord’s armor.

  Crimson cws of pure bze slipped from the newer’s fingers. His body had a humanoid shape; stripes of red and dark equally separated his body parts, running from his legs to his skeletal head. White eyes, burning as brightly as the dawn, looked at Drozna, and as the jaws opehe burning man spoke in a voice that resembled a crag magma p from aing volo.

  “Scurry away, Drozna, lest you want to be reminded of your p the peg order.” Blue fire fshed from Horkhudagh’s eyes, ging the very ground around him into gss. “By Khatun’s and, Iron Lord was elevated above us. To disobey him is to disobey her. Serve or pay the price of disrespeg the Sky’s daughter.”

  “No disrespect was implied!” Brood Lord said hastily, putting a hand over Drozna’s mouth. His smile never wavered, but a thoughtful and mischievous expression appeared in his eyes. “I’ll gdly up the mess created by another and cim myself a town if no one else is capable of such a feat. So, this is your answer, honorable Horkhudagh? I shall endeavor to remember it.”

  “Answer?” The crag of the volo subsided as the khan tried to speak cheerfully. “But I don’t recall any questioher way, you have a job. Do it before I turn your minions into ders to motivate your zy ass.”

  Horkhudagh leapt into the air, fming wings sprouting from his back, and hovered above Iron Lord, spreading his wings far and wide in a silent threat. He lowered his heat so as not to burden his new master. The khan paid him no more mind than Brood Lord, and raised his hand, addressing the artillery crew.

  He heard its movement even now. The thundering sounds of gigantic tracks dragging the mighty engine of war across the pins, the groan of the ground trying to bear the titanic weight, the spinning of its many rge-caliber turrets. Fed in times before the Extin, the main on of this behemoth was capable of sniping spaceships in low orbit. When used as a muillery piece against nd targets, its intricate guidance systems could lo to even the smallest target within a hundred and fifty kilometers, delivering an apocalyptic charge with pristine accuracy, leaving massive craters in its wake. So far, no shield, wall, or bunker had ever withstood a shot. This was a city-killer, ruthless and merciless, fttening everything in its path.

  “But my Khan!” A Pureblood in charge of the artillery rushed to him, falling on one knee. “Our forces are still in close proximity! And sves! Ohe Sky’s Wrath speaks, whom will we ensve?”

  “That’s precisely why it won’t fire oown.” Iron Lord fixed the man with a gre. He was disappoihe fool had served under him for thirty years and still hadn’t learo guess his khan’s iions. “My rapacity drives me to a tastier meal.” He poi the hospital. “This is but a few drops of spilled milk pared to the main dish. Hardly worth mentioning, but the trio inside are valuable. Let the main on sleep and use the turrets to level the pce.”

  “No,” a voice said, and Iron Lord immediately dropped off his steed on one knee. Brood Lord bowed his head, and the priests prostrated themselves. The Iron Guard and Brood Lord’s mongrels fell silent, fists to their chests, and even Horkhudagh swooped down.

  There was no and in this voice, merely a plete certainty that denied any other course of a than her own. Mad Hatter was here. The khatun stood on the Sky’s Wrath main on, her back to the rising sun, her nostrils inhaling the soothing breeze. Her hands toyed with a terminal; she plucked off a dead soldier, but even from afar and from that distahere was no safety from her sheathed sabers.

  “May I know the reason why, Khatun?” Iron Lord asked. The priests grumbled, angered by his impertinence, but a ringing ughter reached their ears and quieted the gathering. When the Sky’s daughter was happy, it was hard not to share her mirth.

  “Oh, Ismaeel.” She alone dared to use the name he had discarded. “Ever thirsty for knowledge. Loosen up; there is more to life than gains and losses.”

  “For pleasure's sake, then,” he crified.

  “So te narrows your vision,” she chuckled, and Iron Lord rexed, uanding that the Khatun was teasing him. “The lives of your soldiers are as valuable to me as they are to you. I won’t spend them in vain.”

  “A bait,” Brood Lord raised his head and dared to turn. “Am I right? They are bait.”

  “Though you didn’t brihe head.” Mad Hatter’s voice ged to ice, and the khan crumpled in shame. Cameras of Iron Lord’s suit zoomed in how the ers of her lips went up. “I’ll answer. Your hunch is correct. Three is a niumber. But five is better. If the rescue is impossible, no one will e. If the situation is dire… Onward. Create the iable temptation for a situation worthy of my attention to occur.”

  Against his will, Iron Lord’s heartbeat increased, ied by Mad Hatter’s eagerness. She hadn’t ged sihe day he brought the Merts into the fold, uniting them as she had uhe Khans. Despite being robbed of her sleep, Mad Hatter’s crity never wavered, her genius and dreams of quest shining as brightly as ever.

  He sat in his seat, taking to the field himself. On his order, there was no more jamming to lure more mbs to the sughter. His ons spewed energy bursts ahead of the artillery, shaking the ground with explosions of detonated mio create gaps in the minefield wide enough for the Horde to pass unopposed. Brood Lalloped ahead of him, fnked by Drozna and the fastest of the hordemen.

  It was within his calcutions. Let them be the first to pay the price. His rival was also correct. The Horde valued results, and it was time to prove himself.

  As Iron Lord charged, he felt pressure at the back of his mind. Mad Hatter, Khan of Khans, Syer of Beasts and Humans, Ruler of a New World, and the Sky’s Avatar was ing. And no one could stand in her path. Not now, not ever.

  ****

  He couldn’t see the future. It infuriated and frightened him more than the suffog darkhat surrounded him, than the inability to draw a single breath or the plete numbness of his body. Emptiness. He drifted iiness, seeing a bck firmament devoid of stars.

  How could he expin in words what it meant to him to be uo see the tless paths leading to the future? To be uo uand how as shaped them? It was worse than going blind; it was tantamount to losing part of his intellect, to losing something so integral to his personality that mere existehout it was maddening, unimaginable. He knew he could do it, so why was the sight closed to him now?

  The future had first graced him in his mother’s womb. There he had seen the same thiing itself over and over: murder over religions aories for turies to e. It oio watch, so he had fantasized about ging the events. Kill this rapist here; stop this priest from calling fenocide. To his surprise, his blessing obligingly showed him the ged paths and how the path of life would be shaped if he wiped away the troublesome figures.

  It was the revetion, the greatest touch the Sky had bestowed upon him, and he had opehe womb, ign the screams of his mother, and stood at full height before the shocked priests. They were expeg an infant, but time was his pything, and his God had already enlightened him about his role in the world. Sacrifices were needed. Not to please the Sky. Their God had no need for meaningless prostrations.

  His goal was far nobler. His enemy was cruelty itself. Eliminating it was impossible, but he had to trol it for future geions. As proof of cept, he had used his vision of the future to orchestrate the removal of false religions from the steppes, eliminating one of the reasons to wage war. Carefully sifting through tless futures, he had helped bring forth a daughter of his deity, weeping in happiness at her first cry. She was the ao the problem of lessening the world’s cruelty.

  The united world. A mere idea sounded ridiculous; even as he had watched in the past, it had never been implemented. But a servant od never feared hard work. He tried to guide the young demigod, subtly at first, then more openly. She pushed against him, easily guessing his pn aing even his divine gift. That was to be expected. What he hadn’t expected was that his vision would be blurred. Used to knowily what his as would ge, the fear of uainty ed him as the same visioed itself in his dreams.

  The strong rule, the weak obey. It was a simple rule, based on natural order, a system where everyone kheir pce. In a way, it was kind to the weak, freeing them from foolish delusions. He was aware of Iron Lord’s hidden iions of disobeying it and of iing the Gilded Horde into another pathetigdom, but he didn’t dare act against him as Mad Hatter favored the fool. As cruel as he was, Brood Lord was on the right path and represehe ideal for the Horde to strive for.

  Although the situation was untenable, he still had the upper hand over Iron Lord. Uhe fool, he wasn’t mortal.

  His remains filed, uo fun as the muscles and even the bones were gone. He of today was dead. But the Dantai of yesterday and the day before were still alive, and he reached into the past, pulling himself into the present. His flesh reappeared, popped, and bubbled as the acid cloud lifted from his body. Then the smoothness returhe bones in his limbs shot toward each other, fixing themselves; his muscles reknitted uhe restored skin, and nerves carried sensations back to the brain. Dantai inhaled as his skull reformed and rose, banishing the renewed clouds of acid around him. A shard of stone slipped from his head as the st of his injuries disappeared.

  The white, bck-headed raven from his visions, the figure blog his path, threatening him. I know who you are. Everything was clear at long st. He will face his destiny, and once she is destroyed, the gift of future vision will be returo him, clear and unobstructed. Then he will correct every mistake.

  Dantai walked back to the camp. He must overe fate and build a kinder world.