Warning: Jake’s scenes have a tendency to be gory, just because of the nature of his character. Don’t read it if you aren’t comfortable with that.

(Year 0)

The machine's hand jerked into motion, powering toward me. I twisted to the side, then reversed the swing of my torso to fling my hand forward. My fingers were bent in tightly, so they wouldn't be snapped back when I struck, but I left my palm uncovered. With a blindingly fast motion, the heel of my hand slammed into the robot's chest, and a crack of lightning exploded from my palm. The deafening snap that accompanied it sounded like a glacier calving in the space of a single moment. Tendrils of light splayed outward as the humanoid machine collapsed to the ground in a writhing mess of short-circuited metal.

"Who's next?" I screamed, turning around. Tiny whips of electricity crackled from my eye sockets, twitching in the air around my face like an army of spasming snake tails. I knew it made me look like a monster. I was fine with that.

"Well?" a robotic voice called from behind the lines of humanoid, robotic soldiers. "Kill him!"

The army burst into motion. Whirring and clanking filled the air as the robots ran forward, a cloud of sand kicking up in the darkness around them. No more machines, I thought, my mind pounding with a beautiful combination of rage and thrill. Kill them. Kill them! I shouted out a bloodcurdling cry, charging toward the army, my lonely footsteps inaudible next to the creaking of mechanical legs.

I jumped. The ground rocketed downward as my hair pushed flat against my head. I looked up and saw the stars, shining in the night sky. Then I spun and angled down, watching with a sort of surreality as the robots skidded to a halt from their charge. The air pressed into my shoulders as my lightning-aided leap brought the center of the robotic army diving toward me.

The machines beneath me twisted their heads to look at me as I catapulted from the sky in a vortex of lightning. The one directly beneath me raised its fist, and a blade slid from the back of its hand, pointed toward my chest. To avoid it, I would need to twist to the side, landing without using my momentum as an attack.

I closed my fist, chambering it by my stomach. The metal blade rapidly approaching beneath me glistened, reflecting the glow from the lightning that enshrouded my fist. I twisted just slightly in the air, not slowing my descent while lining my punch up with the robot's head.

I felt its blade slide into my shoulder, catching on the skin and pushing in. In the same moment, I struck. As my fist collided with the robot's head, an explosion of power blasted out, toppling the robots within a twenty foot radius and filling the air with particles of sand.

I felt electricity engulf me, and I shot upward again, somersaulting through the air before hurtling backward toward a different part of the army. The robot's blade had snapped so that half of it was still sticking through my shoulder, but I yanked it out, cutting into my hand in the process. Blood sprayed outward from the front of my shoulder, carried by the rush of air in scarlet droplets. Along my back, the blood was pressed into my skin by my shirt, so that when it spurted from the place where the blade had exited, it slid across my back and arm like a molten river. Beautiful.

I rotated so that I was diving headfirst once again. This time, the robots backed up as I shot down, watching me warily. Too intelligent. I extended my arm, holding the fragment of blade, ignoring the blood that dripped from my hand. As I rotated in the air, a series of blasts erupted from the pointed tip, blasting the robots backward so I had a small pocket of soil to land on. As I fell, I twisted, bringing my body parallel to the ground and spinning. My hair splayed out above my head, and I relished the nearly infinite second of calm.

No, not calm: anticipation.

I smashed into the ground, rolling forward and coating myself with sand in the process. A shockwave spread outward, causing nearly half of the machines around me to fall. The smell of burning wire and molten metal filled the air; not as sweet as the smell of corpses and blood, but good enough.

I leapt to my feet smoothly, reaching backward over my uninjured shoulder. My fingers tingled as they brushed over the leather-wrapped hilt, slowly moving down toward the crossguard. Feeling a burst of excitement, I pulled the sword, sheath and all, from its harness on my back. The leather on the hilt was shiny black, but nothing to the extravagantly built crossguard and sheath. The black metal sparkled in the light of my silver eyes, and I smiled maniacally.

"Shall we?" I asked the sword.

"Yes," I answered for myself. I spun and rammed the still-sheathed sword through the chest of the nearest robot. As I yanked it out, the sheath pulled free. The blade was made of blood red metal; it seemed to glow through the shroud of night, not reflecting my electricity, but from something burning within.

Ember was awake.

I took a moment to admire the blade, drinking in its glow. This battle, however entertaining, had been far too lacking in blood. Ember's light seemed to fix that, its color telling of the blood it had drunk through countless battles. Its presence felt like a song that had been driven point-first into my chest, melodic but discord at the same time.

The robots attacked, surging forward. I swung Ember in a wide arc, spraying electricity at the oncoming army and causing it to stall. Then I dashed forward, sliding beneath the first line of robots. I sprang up, Ember's blade slashing through a robot, then spun, slamming it through a second. I flung my empty hand to the side without looking, catching the fist of the robot who tried to punch me. Lightning cracked from my arm and into the robot, and it shuddered, smoking, before falling to the ground.

"Ember," I whispered as I pulled the magnificent blade free of its kill. Even with only a whisper of sound to fuel it, the blade flashed red, and I spun in a circle, cutting cleanly through six robots with one swing. Their sturdily crafted metal glowed from the heat of my sword as their pieces fell to the ground.

Ember's light died a second later, and it seemed so... sad without its brilliant radiance. "Of course," I whispered.

I raised my right hand, and a ball of lightning formed around it, restlessly moving and snapping about. I snapped my fingers, and the lightning exploded outward with a crash, running straight through my body so that it struck the robots all around me. "Ember!" I screamed, my voice joining the sharp rumble of thunder.

Ember blazed. An explosion of heat erupted from the blade, and I felt it slamming through me in waves. Robots around us crumpled to the ground, writhing as their machinery melted and fell apart. When the heat lessened, I turned to Ember, watching as its light again died away. It seemed more satisfied this time.

"Yes, I know we could have done that at the beginning. What's the fun in that?" I told the sword pointedly, though as always, it didn't respond. I looked around, shaking the sand out of my hair and observing the aftermath of the battle, before jogging over to the robot that Ember's sheath was still stuck through. The metal looked as though it should have melted along with the robot, but it was cool to the touch as I pulled it out.

Over so soon, I thought with resignation. I could have drawn it out more. But I couldn't tell that to Ember; it was probably still exulting in its usefulness. So I remained silent as I sheathed the sword and fastened it again to my back.