Three wet rust-coated metal blades were raised simultaneously in the corridor air.The lines of killer machines stepped forward passing the remains of the barricade junk. Their steps constantly pressed the air space in the corner of the door. The red optical lenses on their faces reflected the remaining luminescence of the emergency lights.Death was merely waiting for the final pull of breath.Sora stared at the tips of the steel blades beginning to move down targeting her neck. Her back was pressed stiffly against the throne room door plate. The coldness of the metal absorbed her body's remaining warmth. She saw the shadows of the enemy weapons elongating upon the puddle of blood from her stomach. The fingers of her left hand sprawled numbly on the floor. Her arm muscles refused to respond to brain commands. She exhaled air and saw a thin white fog form in front of her face.Borot planted the heels of his shoes to the floor. He refused to die in a kneeling position. He ignored the s

The Selevan throne room was dominated by an ear-pressing mechanical silence.The energy distribution pillar in the middle of the room emitted thin smoke smelling of burnt copper and rubber. Crystal shards scattered on the mahogany floor, reflecting the remaining blinks of light from the emergency lamps in the outer corridor. Static electricity sparks occasionally jumped from the severed ends of the transmission cables. Those bluish fire pops glowed for a fraction of a second before finally dying swallowed by the dark shadows of the giant room.The Crown of Will was dead.There was no more blue light throbbing flowing through giant cables along the tower ceiling. There was no more energy frequency humming that previously squeezed the air and ruptured blood vessels.At the base of the wooden floor crater curving due to the previous gravitational pressure stood two men. Ganda and Arok.Both were only separated by a distance of ten meters. There was no more artificial gravity manipulation

The pale blade tip of Gandring stopped two centimeters in front of the skin of Ganda's neck.The coldness from that ancient steel blade absorbed the remaining warmth from the sweat dripping across Ganda's Adam's apple. Arok stood upright towering blocking the light from the direction of the corridor. His posture showed no gap of hesitation. He only needed to push his sword hilt one inch straight forward to cut his enemy's artery.Ganda sat leaning against the pillar debris. His breathing creaked roughly pumping oxygen. His left leg was totally paralyzed. His right mechanical arm had died then emitted pops of small electrical sparks and black smoke smelling of sulfur. Ganda lowered his gaze. His sword slid far on the floor, lying exactly near the tip of Arok's boots.Arok stared straight into Ganda's eyes. He stood in silence awaiting his enemy to utter words of surrender.Ganda's left hand crawled slowly touching the floor below his thigh. His fingers scooped a puddle of black fluid m