Deus in Machina (a Warhammer 40K-setting inspired LitRPG)

The sick chamber had become an arena of Holy and unholy fury, its fleshy walls quivering as if recoiling from the carnage.

The angelic construct soared, its crystalline and metal form blazing with Divine wrath. Its sapphire heart flared, spitting a torrent of plasma bolts. An abomination's arm and chest were ripped apart, and it wailed out in horror.

If this weren't a dream, Angar, even with his fading clarity, knew this machine was being directly controlled by Hidetada. Considering the construct's capabilities, this was concerning.

Mechanoids operated on coded scripts, battling alongside or independent from their engineer creators. Machinilitis, by contrast, were machines piloted through a neural connection, their creators safely distant from the fray, unable to fight while fully controlling a machine.

Machinilitis Classes, though safer, were far less favored than Mechanoid Classes, as XP for kills dwindled the farther the operator stood from their machine.

Drones occupied a third category, a mix of coded scripts and something like a very basic neural connection, where commands were given with thoughts, but those commands were carried out with coded scripts, not direct control.

This machine was something very different. Drones couldn't merge and transform together into a Machinilitis. Drones couldn't be directly controlled.

Angar didn't know all the specifics of engineer Classes, but as far as he knew, a Mechanoid or Machinilitis couldn't have this much power.

This thing had taken the shape of an angel, but it clearly crossed the line into Heresy.

All six of the drone-construct's foes unleashed powers or sprang at it in a frenzy of claws and dark energy. The machine vanished in a blink, materializing above, its steel wings whirring in a relentless blur.

Some sort of force erupted, and three of the abominations were sent slamming into the wall.

A wing fired out a swarm of nanites, the glowing mist burrowing into the Fallen, causing some of its flesh to bubble this time.

Another abomination charged, but the machine's tendrils whipped, slicing its spines clean off. It drove a plasma-tipped blade from a wing-tentacle into the creature's belly before igniting it in a searing burst, causing the monster to scream as it slid off and away from the burning blade.

Gamosh roared as it attacked, sending a glob of sickening ooze shooting out of its cracked chest plate. The construct's field flared, vaporizing the sludge, sending a chest-beam slamming into the Nofelim, knocking it back.

The Fallen staggered, but kept its feet, then released a wide blast of power before it dove in, slashing with its massive claw. The blast was deflected by a wing, but the claw clamped onto crystal, cracking and tearing a piece off the construct's frame.

A wing-tendril coiled around Gamosh's claw-arm, tightening until something cracked, while another fired a crackling bolt, melting a hole right above the snarling maw.

Then the machine sent another chest-beam at the Nofelim. An abomination dove and caught the beam on one of its disgusting limbs, preventing it from landing on its target, but vaporizing the monstrous appendage.

Gamosh, his claw-arm broken, roared and spat another goo-blast from his warped chest. One of the machine's wing-tendrils deflecting the attack, then the same tendril lashed, slicing into the Fallen's ribcage, sending more of its thick ichor splattered around as it staggered back.

Thryna was a steel tempest hammering Azgoth, now battling nearer the throbbing bulb. The piston-fist sent her tumbling back, and her rockets screamed, launching her up and into a spinning dive, her spiked gauntlet crashing into Azgoth's head, sending sparks flying.

The piston-fist shot out again, barreling into her, sending her tumbling across the ground again, followed by another blast of fell power.

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She dug her claws into the crude-slick floor, halting her momentum, and flew forward with her forearms unleashing a hail of explosive darts, some making it past his telekinesis, tearing into him, then bursting like a volley of thunderclaps.

Azgoth's chains and tendril-legs shot out, ensnaring her, and she blasted and clawed until she wrenched free. Her boosters ignited, driving her forward, and her bladed fingers right into his cyclopean eye. She yanked them out and black ooze sprayed across her own helm.

Angar's mind grew hazier, his vision blurring, thoughts stumbling through the agony. Agony that made thinking hard.

The crystalline machine wove through abominations, wings blurring fast. Powers flashed at it, but it blinked away, reappearing to fire something that smashed an abomination's head.

Another charged, but tendrils coiled its limbs, hurling it into the wall.

A spell sparked. Bile sprayed. Nanites ate some sludge, then swarmed the beast, making its flesh bubble and it scream.

The second Fallen, whatever its name was, stood, powers bursting one after another. The construct's wings folded, blocking most, then shot a beam, toppling him.

A tendril stabbed a thing, a red flare, another wing cut one in half, its two halves twitching on the floor.

Angar's mind blanked for a moment. He missed some stuff.

Thryna's fight wore her down, her frame dented, blade-hand gone, a tripod-foot missing.

She slammed into the high thing. She dove, forearm weapons firing.

Tendrils went at her helm, but she twisted, her gauntlet smashing a blood-crusted face.

Chains cried and tentacles snared her torso, pulling her close. Mouth-tentacles lunged for her helm, but a forearm blast drove them back.

The brawl became more brutal, fists and pistons hammering non-stop, blows shaking the air. Her forearm blast got the mouth-things clamping her helm.

Angar's shattered chest burned, a searing agony choking his body. His mind became more panicked, his airless lungs screaming, the haze growing.

The construct darted, a smear of beams and wings, something pulsing dimly. An abomination fell, maybe slashed, its wail faint.

The second Fallen roared, green light flashed, metal screeched as something broke. A tendril stabbed something, a wing cut something else, more gone, twitching.

The robot lady's clash blurred, weapons doing stuff.

Tendrils reached but she struck, gauntlet smashing his face. Chains snared her, pulling tight. Fists and pistons hammered, a chaotic brawl.

Construct beams, an abomination crumpling, its cry distant. The Fallen stood, then light, wings blocked, shards flew.

Something coiled something…a blurred nightmare, all a haze of sparks and gore.

A blotch of blurs, lights, and sound.

Angar's pain became too terrible, a blazing tide drowning out his senses. His vision blurred to a useless haze, and his world was reduced to smears of light and shadow.

If he had working lungs, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from crying out in pain, uncaring who witnessed.

He was lost in a world of panic and agony, unaware of what went on around him until some sort of burning seared into his body, adding to his injuries, meaningless when compared to his crushed chest.

Then the chamber felt different. Not colder, not really, but that was the only word his mind could produce to describe it.

Voices buzzed, his mind refused to register the words as anything but nonsensical noises, meaningless sound.

His helm was pried off. Something sharp pierced the base of his skull. Then…nothing. Numbness flooded his body, and he felt no pain at all.

His helm clamped back on with a hiss. Clarity crept back, just a little but growing. He made out the murmurs of women and children's wails.

"He's fading fast," Thryna's voice crackled through the comms. "He needs the ship's Vitaelux Apexium."

After a pause, Deli replied. "Stek's piloting the shuttle to the station's entrance. Enemy ship's located. Engagement's priority. Per Hunter, find an alternative. Good luck, Madame."

"Damn it!" Thryna spat. "Anyone else on that shuttle?"

"Negative, Madame. All survivors are too injured."

"He's just leaving me here with his dying recruit and all these prisoners?"

"Sorry, Madame," Deli said. "Wait one. Harc's signal just pinged. He's moving upward. No comms yet, but he's some levels under you."

"Fine," she said, annoyed but resolute. "Where's the nearest Vitaelux Apexium on this trash world? And ETA on the shuttle?"

"Less than five on the shuttle and I don't know. The capital's your best shot."

Thryna growled. "Isn't that on the other side of this world?"

"Roughly," Deli admitted. "Sorry, Madame."

Thryna huffed.

"Listen up!" she bellowed, silencing most prisoners' murmurs, though not the children's cries. "Someone will be along soon to handle you all. Don't muck about, or even if you can be spared, I'll hang you by your own guts myself."

With that, Thryna snatched Angar up, and not very gently.

Cradled in her thin metal arms, the bladed hand gone, she started running, the stump missing the tripod-foot clanging with each stride.

Angar's eye squinted open a bit, enough to see the fleshy realm gone, replaced with the station's cold metal.

His new clarity began fading. At some point, Harc joined them, but their words were unintelligible.

And not long into the run, before they reached the station's exit, Angar's earlier wish was belatedly granted.

The last bit of life clinging to his shattered body fled, and he died.