The valley burned with the iron scent of blood and molten stone.
Kindling II planted its feet with a thunderous slam, pistons hissing as it drove its full weight into Uru-Maul's shoulder. Sparks flew where its rip-hook anchor plates fired, latching into the chasm-sized crevice between two armor slabs. The hooks sank deep, barbed edges biting through quartz-fused dermis and volcanic hide. With a guttural pulse from its core, Kindling II held firm.
Beside it, Thornjaw II darted between the behemoth's foreleg joints, its gaunt frame weaving nimbly beneath snapping claws and debris. Without a word, Mark signaled via a single raised fist. Thornjaw II's own rip-hooks shot from its wrists and hips, anchoring into the side of Uru-Maul's mid-torso ridge. The lightweight marauder tightened its chassis cables, leveraging the creature's own movement to pull the anchors taut. The beast groaned, a low-frequency sound that rattled stones from the canyon cliffs.
The twin Aegis golems followed. Heavy and deliberate, they moved in synchronized strikes. Their rip-hooks deployed with seismic thuds, embedding into the Relict's front limbs at strategic joints, effectively pinning its forebody to the ravine floor. Each impact rattled the ground, forming a mesh of binding lines—steel cords thicker than tree trunks, glowing faintly with reinforcement runes.
Above them all, Uru-Maul shrieked, its cry a tectonic scream that sent echoes rolling across the valley for miles.
But it wasn't enough to stop the advance.
From behind the first line, Ash Guard Teams surged forward—Heavy Tank Frames modified for siege environments. Each frame lumbered under dense armor plating, fitted with broad shoulders that bore dual incendiary bores. These torpedo-sized drills burned with arcane heat, lined with etchings designed to counter Relict-scale regenerative tissue.
"Sector B-2 cleared!" one of the Ash Captains shouted.
"Begin the peel!" Fornos commanded from the observation bluff, still linked to Kindling II through his controller relay.
The bores spun to life. In synchronized roars, they plunged into Uru-Maul's flank. Flames and ash erupted from the contact points as the bores chewed through dermal layers, peeling 3x4 meter slabs of volcanic flesh like bark from an ancient tree. The skin curled and tore, revealing glowing sub-dermal crystal structures beneath—mana quartz, latticed with pulsing arteries of ichor.
The creature flailed in resistance, but the rip-hooks held. The golems grinded in counter-motion, muscles of steel resisting the pull.
"Quartz veins exposed at C-3 and C-4!" Mary called from her Aegis helm.
"Thornjaw, cover the flank! Ash Three, redirect to underside vent ribs!" Fornos barked.
Without reply, Mark adjusted Thornjaw II's stance. The golem leapt sideways, angling its body under the now-weakened abdominal ridge. Its cleaver arms extended, not to attack—but to press a reinforced brace against the exposed tendon arch. A bracing tactic: passive aggression through pure positioning. Mark didn't need to speak. Everyone understood the meaning. Hold the line. No matter what.
The next phase triggered automatically.
SPIDER pods, compact cargo and utility units, emerged from Wraith's forward depot. Each one the size of a grown man, these hex-legged automatons skittered over broken terrain with surgical speed. Their long extendable arms deployed miniature extractors—one for quartz, one for ichor.
Within moments, they were beneath the flayed skin. They attached suction needles to glowing veins, drawing Relict ichor—a fluid denser than oil, but volatile in mana saturation. The ichor swirled in containment vials like a miniature storm, while sub-dermal quartz chunks were sheared from the crystal lattice and carefully sealed in foam-lined capsules.
"SPIDER units at 40% carry capacity," came Roa's voice from command comms. "Extraction rate within margin."
"Redirect surplus to Menders. Prioritize golem limb stabilizers," Fornos replied.
As ordered, MENDER drones—small aerial machines with mechanical tendrils—buzzed through the battlefield. Each one latched onto damaged golem parts: scorched pistons, torn plating, broken arm hinges. Using stored ichor and quartz slurry, they performed on-site field repairs, sealing cracks and replacing parts with temporary, high-efficiency substitutes. The battlefield pulsed with the strange, organized chaos of an operation refined through repetition.
The enemy was subdued. Not dead. But bound and dissected.
Uru-Maul screamed again. Its voice was less fury, more agony now.
It twisted, violently this time. One rip-hook line snapped—twin Aegis Alpha tumbled back—but the formation held. Like a beast caught in webbing, the more it thrashed, the deeper the anchors tore. Quartz blood spilled in torrents, glittering like black stardust.
Up on the cliff, Konos surveyed the battle with Peter beside him, calling adjustments to artillery positions. "He's got them dancing like surgeons at a slaughterhouse."
"Didn't think Kindling could take a direct hit from the jaw and still be upright," Peter muttered. "Must be that black stuff he took."
Konos frowned. "Let's not talk about that."
Back at the center, Fornos leaned against a half-shattered pillar of stone, watching the maneuver play out through his controller lens. He could feel Kindling II's strain like tension in his own spine. The neural feedback was dulling—he'd taken too much of the black injection. It made him sharp, calculating, distant—but it came at a cost. Emotions were fading behind logic. Morality, too.
"Roa, what's our extraction ETA?"
"Four minutes before the Relict's core destabilizes. Pressure inside its crystal sheath is building."
"That's our time window."
Mark glanced at him—just a look—and without speaking, they both moved. Kindling and Thornjaw tightened their holds, prepping for final pressure-lock. The Aegis twins returned to formation, axes ready to strike joints in case Uru-Maul rose again.
"All units, extraction in progress. If it tries to move, cut it deeper."
As the final ichor vials were sealed and the SPIDER units began retreating, a silence settled.
No one was cheering. Not yet.
But they had done the impossible—pinned a Relict, bled it, and lived.
And they weren't finished.