Chapter 20: The Rust King
654 Words
The ground trembled.
From the horizon, a massive silhouette emerged from the grey haze of the Wasteland. It was a machine of war, a monstrous siege engine cobbled together from rusted tanks, derelict factories, and the fused bones of the earth. Atop this mobile fortress stood a figure.
He was not a mutant. He was a man, tall and gaunt, wearing a crown of rusted iron. His skin was the color of old blood, and his eyes glowed with a sickly, orange light. This was the Rust King.
He raised a hand, and the machine beneath him groaned to a halt. A massive barrel, the Great Cannon, swiveled to aim directly at the Ironclad's position.
"Kneel," the Rust King's voice boomed, amplified by the machine. It was a sound of grinding gears and collapsing bridges. "Kneel, and I will grant you the gift of oblivion. You will become one with the rust."
Mara and the Ironclad raised their spears, their faces grim. They were ready to die.
Kaelen stepped forward. He didn't raise a weapon. He didn't shout a challenge. He simply walked toward the fortress.
The Rust King laughed, a sound like metal tearing. "The Metal-Man. Come to join me? Or come to die?"
Kaelen stopped fifty paces from the cannon. He looked up at the Rust King.
"You are inefficient," Kaelen said, his voice flat. "You destroy. I create."
The Rust King's eyes narrowed. "Arrogance. Let me show you the futility of creation."
He slammed his fist down on a control panel.
FWOOOOM!
A ball of orange energy erupted from the Great Cannon. It was Corruption. It turned the air to rust, the ground to powder. It was a wave of pure entropy.
Kaelen didn't dodge. He stood his ground.
The wave hit him.
His Rust-Proof Exoskeleton flared to life. The orange energy washed over him, but it didn't touch him. It slid off his armor like water off a stone.
The Rust King's eyes widened in disbelief.
Kaelen moved. He sprinted toward the fortress. He was a blur of grey metal.
Guards—mutated Rustborn—leapt from the sides of the machine. Kaelen didn't slow down. He punched through them. His Arc-Caster Gauntlet discharged, sending arcs of blue lightning through their bodies. They dropped, smoking.
He reached the base of the fortress. He began to climb, his armored fingers digging into the rusted metal.
The Rust King roared in fury. He activated the fortress's defenses—spinning blades, flamethrowers, and automated turrets.
Kaelen weathered it all. The blades sparked off his exoskeleton. The flames couldn't touch him. He reached the top.
The Rust King stood before him, holding a staff tipped with a spinning, rusted drill.
"You cannot stop the inevitable!" the Rust King screamed.
Kaelen didn't answer. He lunged.
The Rust King swung his staff. Kaelen caught it with his gauntlet. The metal screeched.
"You are weak," Kaelen said.
He activated the Alchemic Synthesis in his arm. He reached out, not for the Rust King, but for the fortress itself.
The Vyre larva in his chest pulsed. It reached out through Kaelen's arm, connecting with the rusted metal of the fortress.
Sssssssss.
The fortress began to change. The rust didn't just stop. It reversed. The metal began to glow, to strengthen, to evolve. Kaelen was rewriting the molecular structure of the machine, turning it from a tool of decay into a vessel of life.
The Rust King screamed as his connection to the machine was severed. He stumbled back, his power failing.
Kaelen grabbed him by the throat.
"You are obsolete," Kaelen said.
He squeezed.
Crunch.
The Rust King's neck snapped. His body turned to dust, blowing away in the wind.
Kaelen stood alone on the top of the fortress. The machine beneath him hummed with a new, stable energy.
He looked back at the Ironclad. They were staring at him, their mouths open in shock.
He had won.
- Writer
