Even from such a distant height, I could feel the weight of the witch's gaze pressed down on my machine like a blade against my neck. However when she noticed that my pod had disengaged she began to divert her gaze towards the battlefield.

Two of her rifles followed instinctively, lowering themselves slowly with their sights settling on the errata that had finished butchering the last living soldiers.

The wind began to stir as if a storm were coming, then, a glaring yellow light began to leak from within her weapons as if heat began to burn its insides. Streaks of electricity crawled along their frames in twitching veins, snapping and hissing eager to be released.

Then they fired.

The shots fell towards the ground like a mortar strike and as they struck the world folded inward as light devoured the battlefield swallowing everything whole. In the aftermath of the explosion there was nothing left to recognize but deep holes in the earth and the forest's roaring flames.

Most of the errata had all been erased in an instant, however some stragglers remained.

They began to hurl themselves upwards with their incorporeal forms shifting restlessly as they tried to extend their limbs to impossible extents to reach the witch above them. However, despite all their efforts, gravity reclaimed them, as they fell back into the ruin below.

Still, they did not stop, instead they began to gather.

Piled together, their bodies began to merge with each other and become a single entity, they began to form into a large tar creature which formed into a tower of mouths, eyes and writhing limbs with a singular goal of inching itself closer to the sky.

The witch did not flinch.

Her third rifle awakened this time, there was no thunder nor warning. Only a thin line of electric light that split the air open. It sliced through its body, like a whip of energy in a single merciless sweep. Everything it touched burned, convulsed, and finally exploded from within, popping the large entity like a balloon filled with water.

As the tower of Errata collapsed into ash, the witch slowly descended towards me untouched.

"You're the first rider I have seen surrender, you are quite an oddity." Her cold voice seemed to pierce through the flames.

"I wouldn't call this a surrender, this is more like unwilful compliance."

"Is that so? She paused, then humorlessly chuckled. "Or perhaps that's what you need to believe for that rune bomb in your head. You're clever. I'll give you that."

She was right, however what she doesn't know is that the bombs in our head can be triggered intentionally. If worse comes to worse, I'll have to get close and–

"Get down from your M.T.," she continued, "and step into the light. If you are as reasonable as you sound, I want to speak to you like a human." Her cold command snapped me back from my thoughts.

Behind the flames I could clearly see the shadows of all three rifles rotated toward me in unison as the witch's steel boots softly touched the forest's ground. Their barrels aligned perfectly with my center mass, escape was impossible at this point.

"Fine. I'll step into the light."

I slowly climbed down from my M.T., with each of my steps forward being tracked by the rifles' subtle adjustments, following me by sound alone. It was quite strange. It felt like they didn't behave like weapons, they behaved like hunters who were anticipating my every move.

When I finally pushed off my M.T and leapt toward the ground—

"Wait."

Her voice snapped, as if it tightened the air around us. I froze mid-motion, landing stiffly at the edge of the light.

"Before you step any further, if I see a weapon on you, you will be executed immediately."

"I don't have any weapons on me." I almost nervously replied.

The rifles did not lower.

"You better not."

As I slowly stepped into the light nothing had changed, her posture remained composed, her presence cold and immovable that is until she clearly glimpsed at my face.

"I–it's…you."

Anya stared at me as if I were a revenant refusing to stay buried. When she spoke again, her voice trembled, stripped of its certainty for the first time. "H-how..."

"I…"

BANG!

A shot flew barely past my head, exploding the tree behind me into smithereens. A fraction closer and I would have been gone, dread began to flood my mind, locking my muscles in place.

"Noctian," she resumed, the shock in her voice was gone, refrosting sharper than before. "What is your name?"

"I—I…" My throat felt dry as a desert. "They call me Grim."

She didn't move nor lower her weapons, but behind her mask, I could sense a hint of rage well up as I noticed her hands almost bled from how tight she was gripping them.

Somehow, it felt like my name was a reminder of something too painful to touch.

"Do you know why you're called that?"

"My name was assigned by my superiors."

"I'm asking you." Her voice felt more dreadful than commanding.

I froze. I couldn't think of a comprehensible answer, it was as if a show light had pinned me on stage.

"I don't know."

Her rifles twitched reflexively. "I assume you know how Noctians are made…correct?"

Of course I knew how I was made, what kind of question was that? Perhaps this was a trick question to get more information out of me.

"Yes." I replied with confidence.

"Then you must know that you and your M.T. were made from a mage's corpse, correct?"

"I…yes?"

"Then, do you recognize my voice?" Anya's steel edge within her voice softened for a moment.

"I do not."

Another pause. Longer this time.

"Then would it be safe to assume," she said slowly, "that you have no memories of who you were before you were turned into a Noctian?"

"I am a walking corpse," I answered. "I do not possess those memories." Despite my confident reply, a question began to spur within me.

Who was I to her before as a human? But more importantly, could I use this to my advantage to let her guard down and end her?

Her gaze shifted to my M.T., looming behind me like a demon.

"Ah, I see." she whispered quietly to herself with a hint of grief.

"It seems fate has been especially cruel to me today."

Something about her discomfort compelled something within me to speak, dragging out a question I didn't know I was allowed to ask.

"Am...am I supposed to know you?" I asked with my mouth still trembling.

"No," she answered without hesitation. "You're simply the ghost of somebody that I used to know." Something inside me felt like I had just lost my last chance at approaching her.

Her rifles lowered in dismissal, as if I was no longer a threat requiring them. Her hand moved behind her dress, and a moment later she brought out a pistol, leveling it at my forehead.

Its barrel was close enough that I could see faint scorch marks along its rim.

"I considered asking you a few questions, and then capture you." Her thumb slid the safety back with a sharp click. "That option is no longer available it seems. Consider this a mercy of your honor, old friend."

"Goodbye."

"WAIT!"

The word tore itself out of me with a desperate scream. It stunned her. Just barely. Her trigger finger wavered for a fraction of a second.

"I know what you're looking for," I blurted. "I know where the black box is!"

Her gun remained trained on my head, but the air seemed different.

"Tch." She clicked her tongue, irritation began bleeding through the stillness. Of all the things she could dismiss, that wasn't one of them. It was her objective. Her reason. The one truth she couldn't afford to ignore. I know much about that.

"…Talk," she said at last.

"The artifact you're looking for is in my storage compartment...in my M.T. I could grab it quickly for you."

Her gun was still aimed at me as she replied "I can grab it myself."

"No. You can't," I began to force steadiness into my trembling voice. "Without the passcode, my core's battery will overload. The artifact… it'll be destroyed."

"Then tell me the passcode, I'll fly up there and grab it."

"The passcode is linked to my heart signature. If my heart stops… there's no way to recover it without destroying it."

The witch slightly tilted her head in extreme annoyance, however her gun hand flickered away. Her decision gave way for a sliver of hesitation. "Fine....make it quick."

This was the perfect moment to bolt towards her and use my rune bomb, however at this distance with her reflexes she could kill me instantly. I had to play this slowly.

So I slowly backed off from her and climbed onto my M.T., making sure that each movement was as innocent looking as possible under the witch's unyielding gaze.

As I climbed towards the compartment near my M.T.'s ribs she trained her pistol towards me. My fingers trembled as I pressed the button to open the compartment. A soft click echoed, then the panel slid open. I slid my hand inside, and quietly inputted the passcode on a touchpad.

A metal cylinder whirred from within as the right code was confirmed, dropping to the ground with a hollow clatter at her feet, but she didn't flinch at its presence. She just stood there, intently watching my every move.

With the battery disengaged, I moved toward the storage compartment, my chest could barely release its tightening with my efforts to stay calm, sweat poured down my head as I clicked a single button which quickly opened the storage compartment without issue.

But as my hand reached for the black box I noticed my rifle, lying ominously beside it, like a silent temptation waiting for me to choose it.

"Hey! What's taking so long? Do you have it or not?"

My hand reached for the black box but as I was pulling it out I saw something moving stealthily in the distance. In an instant, I quickly gripped the rifle in the compartment instead, and fired at the witch.

Unsurprisingly none of my shots were effective due to her rune shield.

But that wasn't my goal.

Her pistol shot me back in reply. Pain erupted within my stomach, as I collapsed onto the hard ground on my back; it felt as if my breath was being stolen. She looked down at me, the eyes under her mask flicking between disappointment and a feeling of compassion.

"I knew you'd do something like that." she spoke to me but it was more like she was muttering to herself.

The Iron Witch quickly floated towards the open compartment, and calmly plucked the black box. As she landed back on the ground, an aura of finality judged me.

"Any last words?"

I faced her and forced a smile through the pain, even though my heart was hammering with more fear than ever.

"Behind you."

In an instant, Myers' passed through her shield with stealth, sinking his heat knife into her heart.