Joy Pursuit: Steel Dragon [Sci-Fi Fantasy | Horror | Action]

"And depending on the type of human it takes between 4 to 12 months for the child to be born." Morray explained to Gira, who only nodded with a hollow look as they walked through the Voltasaxx manor.

Gira cleared his throat. "Ummm, Mr. Morray… I was kidding earlier. I—I kinda knew about that stuff, but like…"

Morray raised a brow, glancing his way as they climbed a white stone staircase. "You knew?"

"I mean, yeah. I just hadn't really thought about that kind of stuff until you brought it up—but still, why did you go into so much detail??" he asked as they arrived at a huge white stone door.

Morray didn't answer right away. He tapped a panel beside the door, and the smooth surface slid back, grinding against itself with a low, rough thrum.

"Because someday, when you escape the shadow of the ENN.KORR you'll have to face the diversity of the universe," Morray said, stepping through the doorway with Gira close behind.

Inside, there was a phantom blue glow that permeated through the space. Rows and rows of low-hanging lights cast crawling shadows up, up and into the dark. Morray consumed the space, his tall frame a guiding tower in the blue glow. The air was dry and sterile, heavy with the faint scent of chemicals and filtered dust. The tight carpet muted their steps as they walked towards a far-off room where faint shadow and light moved.

"What is this place?" Gira asked.

"It's a hallway." Morray answered blankly.

Gira shot him an annoyed look.

Before he could press Morray further, they reached the end of the deceptively short hallway—and stepped into the bowels of a spacious white-stone chamber that descended in short, terraced levels. As he followed Morray, Gira noticed several rangers talking, walking, and bustling between desks lined with large screens arranged in a wide semicircle along the terraces. But what drew his attention most was the white-stone platform at the chamber's center, where a perfect mercury sphere floated ominously in the air. The silver sphere hung like a homegrown moon, posted upon an ivory cradle covered in faint metal nodes. It spun ever so slightly, its surface rippling with a soft blue glow reflected from the surrounding screens that bathed the room in a dreamy light.

As Morray descended into the chamber, the rangers' chatter fell to hushed whispers—but it quickly surged again when Gira followed behind.

"What's with the weird orb? Why are we here?" Gira asked, nervously looking around the chamber.

Morray continued forward toward the silver sphere. "That's a Nomos Scrutineer—a mechanoid designed for…" He paused, eyes narrowing. "…getting answers."

"Oh. So how does it work?"

Morray led him to the base of the platform and began working on a nearby panel. He let out a long, steady exhale. "You'll see." With a click of a button, the lowest level of the chamber shifted with a loud hiss. All around, the rangers present suddenly stopped in their chaos, finding their place behind rows of desks.

Morray placed a hand on Gira's shoulder and leaned down. "I hope you'll understand." he said—his grip hurting—before he let go and walked over to a raised cushion surface that encircled the platform in intervals. He sat down almost elegantly and rested his arms along the backrest. His crimson-gold eyes fixed on the mercury sphere, lost in its reflection.

Gira stumbled backward, confused, plopping down on a spot across from Morray.

…Gira…

Gira's eyes widened.

Gira… throne…

He squeezed his eyes shut as the world slipped away—his thoughts dissolving into a sea of vast shadow entwine with crimson red as the void took a formless shape, casting light from a center kiln that was surrounded by a collection of crimson furniture.

"Gira!" Vaal grabbed him by the shoulders. "Listen to me—you can't let them do this to me. TO US!"

"Huh? What? What's happening?" He looked around, seeing only Vaal and Savagrios present. "Where's everyone else?"

Savagrios answered flatly. "Busy."

Gira raised a brow, confused.

Vaal shook Gira again. "Listen! Those bastards are going to dissect us any minute here."

"What?!"

"That machine—it's an old ENN.KORR interrogation unit! They're going to cut into your fat head and see my memories!" Vaal pleaded.

Gira shook his head. "Huh, b-but why?"

Vaal exhaled in frustration. "There's like a million reasons. Just—just listen. We need to get out of here. We have ideas—none of them pretty. But you need to understand, rat. At this rate they're going to put us down like some animal."

"But why? We haven't even done any…thing…" Gira's eyes flickered with realization as a single memory stood out from the rest. "Oh…I—did—did we kill those rangers at the end there?"

Savagrios put a hand on Gira's shoulder. "We're not sure. But if you recall, we did release that deep-sea beast. That alone might be enough for them to get rid of us. Not to mention we're not sure how our brain functions. We have no idea what memories they'll see." He pressed a hand on his forehead."Besides you, no one here's exactly a saint. There's a pretty high chance they'll have us executed because of some unfortunate thing Vaal might've done."

Vaal shot Savagrios a poisonous glare.

"So, what do we do?" Gira asked.

Vaal grabbed him hard and looked him dead in the eyes, his nose almost touching his, the piercing gold reflecting in his gray-black. "We ignite—gamble our mind and body for the immeasurable power of Calamity." Spit landed under Gira's eye, but he couldn't look away from Vaal's shaking pupils.

Gira looked up at Savagrios. "Ignite? What the hell are you talking about?!" he snapped.

Savagrios stared down into the black void beneath them. "Ignition is an unfounded possibility. A whisper lost among the decaying corpses of our kin." He looked up at Gira. "A personal hope of ours, a doubt riddled tale of coarse-blood lit ablaze in midnight black. Ablaze a new moon, a pure blooded Calamity to join the Fifteen Houses."

Gira lightly shook his head. "What does that even mean?"

Vaal grabbed his shoulders again. "We're gonna fractalize on purpose! Shatter our mind and body, light our soul in the fires of pure Kyyr—ignite our Calamity core and get the hell out of here."

Gira looked between the two in disbelief. "HA? Are you telling me to turn into a monster again? To escape—how? By killing everyone here? Then what? We run off into the forest and live the rest of our lives like some monster? Ha! What the hell… I can't… It's too much. I just can't." He let out a defeated whimper.

Savagrios looked away.

Vaal's panic curdled into a hard, settled rage."I don't give a shit if you agree. This body—this life—is as much mine as it is yours. If you think I'll let a filthy half-blood and his circus of goons rip into my brain you're dead wrong."

"But what if we can't ignite? And if we do, won't Morray beat our ass like last time! We're also weaker now—we just came out from a full transformation! Our body is a complete mess." Gira's voice faltered. "And shouldn't K and Ezzeks be here for something like this. Don't they get a say?"

Vaal shoved Gira back. "Then what? We're running out of time. You got a plan? Some brilliant way out of this? Or are you just gonna stand there shaking while I fix it myself?"

Gira froze as thoughts crashed over each other—a cacophony of noise against his exhausted body.

Vaal shut his eyes for a moment, peering outward into the fading world where a group of rangers had begun descending the terraces toward them. He blinked back inside. "They're here! You better use that pathetic brain of yours to think of something before I kill every last one of them!"

Gira's eyes shot open. He turned to Savagrios. "I-I have an idea! But it's a huge gamble—it all depends on our body…and you."

Beyond their throne, several figures joined Morray on the sterile, soft seats. Closest to him sat a blue-haired woman, her weary gaze fixed on Gira. This was Ranger Okari Thorne, Commandant of the Guivre Squad.

Beside her was another ranger—tall, stout, with tired eyes peering through a pair of fake round glasses. Resting his hand on his square chin, he examined the slumbering Gira with wide-eyed curiosity. This was Ranger Ámon Pax, Commandant of the Vayett Squad.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Then came familiar faces: Rangers Willis O'Mort, Commander of the Corezon Squad, and Bern Mourns, Commander of the Krreat Squad. Both shifted nervously, glancing between the two sides—on one side there was a clearly upset Morray and on the other side an unconscious Gira. The two took their places beside Gira.

Finally, descending last was a man carrying a casket and a bored look was Draell Dire, Commander of the Voltasaxx Squad—with the stern Hargo Forge, Commander of the Lamech Squad, at his side.

Now, six members of Ranger High Command stood assembled around the Nomos Scrutineer, their gazes varying in weight and intent as they looked upon the sleeping Coarseblood. Slowly, Gira opened his eyes, their gray-black reflecting the silvery surface of the mechanoid before him.

Hargo cleared his throat as he approached the console at the base of the platform. "Unfortunately, none of our northern comrades were able to make it. As you all know, with the release of the Thalassorhax Vai'tolant, resource exchange across the Orrick Sea has been severely compromised. They are currently in the midst of assessing the organism's sensitivity to our modified cruisers." He glanced at Gira. "But—" he let the word hang. "Tonight we have gathered to uncover the actions of the individual here known as Gira Mourns, the Coarseblood of the Ordovis Coast. Testimony from several rangers has been considered, but there remains no absolute certainty about the facts or the intent behind those actions. Therefore, I cannot sanction a beast's existence in our fragile little world. Unless—" He turned to fully face Gira, his emerald green eyes lacking any glimmer, any escape. "Gira Mourns. You are ‌granted two options. Accept the blessing of the Nomos—or be euthanized by this court."

Gira stared deep into Hargo's eyes, sweat slowly forming at the edge of his hairline, his breath shuddering in quick gasps of air. "I—1 accept the blessing…" he mumbled.

"Good," Hargo said, pressing something on the panel.

Next to Gira, Bern opened his mouth, but no words came—his thoughts trapped in his mind as he lost himself in a search for words of comfort. Meanwhile, Willis had dozed off, his head falling on Bern's shoulder, shocking him out of his messy thoughts. But he couldn't muster the courage to say anything as Gira joined Hargo under the sphere.

Across Okari whispered to Morray, "How could you let Draell approve this? That kid saved our asses last night. Using a Nomos Scrutineer is inhumane. The kid'll never trust us again."

Morray lingered on her words, his eyes fixed on Gira's, looking for any shift in color. He let out a slow sigh. "I'd love to trust the kid, but there's something wrong with him." He scoffed, reaching for a small container on his belt. "You saw what he did to that young ranger back in Krreat. And you're lucky you haven't seen his feeding sessions."

Okari didn't budge. "He's got a split personality right? I'm guessing you've had the pleasure."

Morray nodded. "Yeah. He traumatized Borren, you know, that yellow-eyed bastard. We need to figure him out before we can trust Gira."

Okari looked at the terrified Gira as Hargo explained the procedure. She watched him shake, his face turning pale white as the silvery orb split at its base, the long slit spreading wide to reveal a mechanical mess of tendrils that unfurled themselves like the wild strands of flaying muscle.

She grimaced. "By all that's gold, do we really have to watch?" she averted her gaze, as Gira was guided beneath the metal orb, the platform beneath him rising. Metal braces locked around his limbs and neck.

Morray stared dead ahead. "It's Hargo's sick orders. There's not much we can do."

Okari stole disgusted glances as the Scrutineer's tendrils coiled slowly around Gira, slicing through the back of his clothes to expose his trembling back. A long silver tendril glided almost seductively down his spine, nestling itself at the edge of his pants. The silvery tendril then unfurled, revealing a thick syringe that pressed firmly against him. Gira struggled in place, his breathing growing desperate as Hargo whispered something into his ear.

"AGH!" Gira grit his teeth as the needle was driven into his spine with a forceful motion.

Gira let out another short, strangled scream as the foreign chemical traveled up his spine. The rangers present watched, time slowing down as some averted their gazes, while others watched with harsh intent. Morray focused on Gira's teary eyes, their black color disappearing behind trembling eyelids.

Morray watched tensely, his Kyyr scrutinizing the boy with excruciating precision for any change—anything, any flicker of corruption, any vile scent of malice. But there was only silence.

The rangers at their desks looked on as thin blades descended from the Scrutineer's underbelly. Cold metal brushed against Gira's hair while a sterilizing gas flooded the room, ultraviolet lights washing him in a harsh blue glow.

The mechanoid spoke, its voice deep and metallic: "Procedure. Interrogation—deep mind stance—acknowledged. >>> Query—accord process—80%>>> Proceeding."

Hargo returned to his seat and crossed his legs, his eyes drifting toward Draell, who lay comfortably sprawled on the long cushion, eyes shut, indifferent to the procedure. Irritation needled up his spine as he glanced back at the mechanoid.

The bladed tendrils carefully shaved off Gira's hair, clearing away any impurities that might hinder the process.

Morray's gaze didn't waver, his instincts sharp, ready—

But there was nothing.

Nothing obvious, at least.

Deep within the throne, Gira, Vaal and Savagrios held tight to their waking selves. The void's pressure suffocated them as the chemicals fought to quell their restless minds.

Savagrios fixed Gira with an unusually stern look. "We hate this idea."

Vaal smirked, a low laugh breaking from him. "I wonder how much of you will survive this." he hissed, eyes gleaming as he stared into Gira's terror.

Gira swallowed hard. "… I hope this works." He grabbed Savagrios's hand. "I'm sorry… but I'd rather lose my mind…"

Vaal glanced up with a frown. "Fuck! That hurts!" he growled.

Gira pressed a trembling hand against the back of his head as tears welled in his eyes. The intrusive sensation of metal carving bone wrung through his brain. Searing pain wrapped around his nerves like barbed wire as he let out a horrified scream as he bit down hard.

Beyond their throne, the silver tendrils cut into his skull, peeling his cranium open, revealing his brain to the sterile air. His brain pulsed under the low light, the fragile human essence, ever vulnerable in the face of steel and judgement. A golden tendril descended from above, its gleam swallowed by the blue hue until it became a shadow—an obsidian probe.

Violation.

The tendrils spread wide, releasing swarms of microscopic devices that burrowed into the soft tissue of his brain, tracing the electric currents that composed everything that would normally compose a person. The veritable soul made flesh.

Vaal's eyes snapped wide. "NOW!" he screamed.

Gira seized his own body. The piercing pain tore through his mind, each nerve uniquely convulsing in a painful stroke of human desperation. He fought to maintain a blank expression in the waking world, forcing his awareness deep down his spine, away from the pain. The shrieking horror of the electric assault on his mind ripped through everything that made him—him. He screamed silently within, scattering the agony across micro doses of horrifying loss of awareness. His sense of self dissipated into fragments across his other selves as he flared a faint blitz of Kyyr and—

Krrrggg…

Most of the rangers had turned away—everyone except Ámon, Morray, and Hargo. Their eyes darted between the projection above and the Coarseblood boy below. Morray's gaze fixed on the faint tremor in Gira's Kyyr, sensing a subtle shift in the current. Hargo's attention snapped down as well, his broad frame straightening as he joined Morray in silent scrutiny.

The Scrutineer suddenly emitted a sharp, echoing beep. "Error. Extensive comminuted cranial trauma with cerebral liquefaction—unable to proceed."

Almost everyone present shot up from their seats, the rangers behind the desks broke into panicked whispers, their fear swelling through the chamber like static.

Hargo rushed to the control panel while Morray bolted to the platform, his expression contorting as he saw blood spilling from Gira's eyes, nose, and mouth. The mechanoid retracted its tendrils—bits of Gira clinging wetly to their edges.

"Subject has expired. Tentacular actuators damaged."

It shined a light on the tendril that had been inside Gira's skull.The delicate filaments were mangled, warped—as if something had fought back.

"Failure>>> Disposal necessary."

With cold precision, the mechanoid repositioned the boy's skull and began suturing the wound shut. The rangers could only watch in frozen horror as the metallic limbs lowered Gira's limp body onto the cold platform—his blood spreading like ink beneath the blue light.

Hargo shook his head. "What a waste of time." He turned on his heel and walked toward the exit without so much as a glance at Gira's body.

Ámon shrugged as if nothing had happened. "Shame… I didn't get a chance to see the damn beast in action." With that, he rose from his seat and followed Hargo out of the chamber.

Bern looked on in terror before finally shaking his head. "I'm so sorry…" he whispered, his voice trembling before solemnly leaving himself.

Morray and Okari stared at Gira's body, blood spreading across the once sterile surface.

"What have we done…" Okari mumbled, tears glinting at the corners of her eyes. "What the hell went wrong?"

Morray didn't say a word as he watched the blood crawl towards him.

Willis exhaled softly and lowered his head. "Well… this sucks," he muttered, getting up and bowing in respect before walking towards the exit.

It took only about five minutes before a Hollow entered the chamber to collect Gira's remains, lifting them with a strange, mechanical tenderness onto a stretcher. Morray watched in disbelief as he was taken away to the furnace below. An unfortunate fate that they had decided upon in the case of this very scenario. After all, harboring a corpse of Calamity only invited conspiracy and death to the rangers.

Draell's eyes snapped open as the stretcher passed him. "Hmm… I guess he was never meant to belong." With a faint shrug, he rose and followed the Hollow toward the exit, the sound of chains disappearing with Gira.

Morray sank into his seat, his eyes unfocused, his thoughts a mess of entropic nothingness. Plainly put—he felt regret.

Okari stared at the spreading blood. "That's it? That's how the Coarseblood dies?" Images of the massive ivory faux-dragon tearing through the Caused flashed in her mind. A confused, almost hysterical smile crossed her face. "He dies in a failed interrogation? Are you fucking kidding me?" She let out a strained laugh, disbelief spilling into it. "Sweet Symbols…this is going to crush morale in my squad—everyone who saw him that night. The Parabellum Onryō… what will the public think?"

Morray rested his face in his hands. "I failed him." he said in a raw lament, watching as small mechanoids silently cleaned the blood from the platform.

The Hollow carried the stretcher through the dark stone halls toward a white stone elevator. The massive mechanoid coiled into itself as it entered the tight space, making sure to not disturb the remains. Its single crimson eye studying Gira, its ocular sensors twisting and turning as it noticed something.

A light movement.

A twitch.

And a pair of crimson eyes staring right back at it.