Chapter 138

　　Praxis descended from the sky in Prometheus, wings of fire stretched out in each direction for miles on each side of the Titan. His Mech gripped a weapon that few had ever seen in the Empire, something that was unique to the Titan who possessed it.

　　It was a whip of pure fire, a line of flame that twisted and turned in the wind as if it had a mind of its own. Glowing white with heat, traces of red and orange flickered on its edges as the fire cooled a little once it was ejected from its burning core.

　　Thousands of Mobile Suit fought and struggled across the ground beneath him. This was a minor world in the Grandster sector of space, a stepping stone on their way to plunging the knife deeper into the heart of their enemy.

　　Joining the Mechs were millions of ground troops. Soldiers in Exosuits and body armour drove forward against the onslaught of lasgun fire, artillery explosions and steel shrapnel falling from the sky. Using whatever cover they could find, Praxis watched them die in the tens of thousands, the conflict a meat grinder that engulfed men and women and left nothing but pieces behind.

　　The sky was filled with the bluish-white streaks of lasguns, the clouds reflecting the fires that consumed the little vegetation that remained. The ground had been churned to mud, and even the Mechs had trouble finding their footing in places.

　　They had been fighting here for days, and prior to Praxis`s arrival, the space above had been equally chaotic. The Titan had made short work of the vessels, Mobile Suits and Spaceships in orbit. Now it was time for the flames of Prometheus to cleanse the surface.

　　His descent was noticed immediately, and the enemy mobile suits turned their weapons on the Titan. Volleys of missiles, hundreds of lines of lasgun energy and even multiple crimson PPC energy struck out at Praxis as he halted his descent in the sky above the planet.

　　The shield of the Titan turned brilliant red and orange, like flames, as they surrounded him. Everything was blocked, and no harmful energy or force connected with his Suit`s armour. The impact`s noise was deafening, and even from the cockpit Praxis could hear the detonations like a clap of continuous thunder.

　　Louder than the conflagration outside, the Titan`s reactor spun deep within its body. The whine grew as a fraction of the energy unleashed against its shield was redirected into its reserves. The silver and crimson frame glowed brightly in the sky until it seemed to dwarf the light of the explosions.

　　Praxis laughed loudly as the thrum from the reactor echoed through the Neural Link. He was losing his mind to bloodlust, a common occurrence while Piloting a Titan. There was a hunger buried deep within its systems, a longing to wipe out all opposition and impose its will on the universe.

　　It found the ants below it disgusting, a stain that needed to be cleansed. Praxis lost the ability to differentiate between friend and foe. All of humanity appeared the same to him, a blight.

　　Praxis drew on the energy contained within the reactor, channelling it into the Titan`s primary offensive weapon. If anyone could see his face within the helmet of his Pilot Bodysuit, they would see his eyes glow with the same reddish-orange light as the field that surrounded him.

　　Like a rabid dog at the end of its leash, the Titan longed to be released. It tugged at his mind, urging him to act. With a smile, he whispered the command.

　　"Purifying Inferno of Perdition."A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

　　All noise on the battlefield ceased, and the ringing cacophony of sound from the conflict halted as everyone on both sides looked up at the sky together. In the air above them, the vast wings of the Titan grew larger, sweeping across the heavens. The entire skyline was engulfed in their reddish-orange light.

　　Like a bird flapping its wings, Prometheus sent the twin jets of flame forward. They swept across the ground, burning everything in their path to refined, white ash. In their wake, nothing survived. Humans were obliterated. Their Exosuits melted in the heat, sublimating into gas. Entire Mechs were vaporized, and no debris was left to mark their passing.

　　In moments, the battlefield was turned into a scorched field consisting of little more than bits of white ash and blackened earth. The air screamed as the flames passed, the oxygen igniting in the intense heat. It was as if Prometheus had grabbed the sun itself out of the sky and brought it to the planet`s surface.

　　There was nothing left but silence.

　　Prometheus hung in the sky, its wing retracted into its frame. Praxis stared out at what he had done and felt nothing. He had destroyed both sides of the conflict, including his own troops, but didn`t regret the action.

　　The Titan was pleased. He could feel it through their link. It was satisfied. The act of destruction had brought a form of relief to the machine.

　　"Incoming message." The mechanical voice of the Titan`s computer spoke, breaking the silence. The machine lacked thought, not understanding the importance of what it had done in speaking. Whatever spell Praxis was under had been broken at the noise. Blinking his eyes, the reddish-orange light faded, leaving them their usual, dull brown.

　　"Connect." Praxis responded.

　　An image of the Duchess of Carmichael appeared on his HUD. She seemed to be angry but was managing to hide it well. He could spot the telltale signs on her lovely face, and he doubted anyone else would know it unless they spent considerable time with her.

　　"Cousin." Duchess Carmichael greeted him. Distantly related, they were technically cousins,` but so were most of the Nobility in some way or another if you traced their lineage back far enough. She called him by that title more for their closeness and her reliance on him than their shared heritage.

　　"How may I serve?" Praxis asked, feeling slightly irritated at the interruption.

　　With the destruction of the ground forces, he was free to move forward, pushing the line of skirmish deeper into Grandster space. He cared nothing for the losses here. They were minor compared to their overall objective.

　　They needed to act quickly before another Titan could be repositioned to strike back. So far, Argyle had been reluctant to deploy them, but it was only a matter of time.

　　"Argyle has requested an armistice." The Duchess replied, and Praxis was shocked. He hadn`t expected Argyle to capitulate so quickly. They had barely made a dent into his forces. Could the old man be losing his nerve after merely a year of war?

　　"And?" Praxis prodded.

　　"Augustus has agreed." The Duchess finished, her face showing definite displeasure at the announcement.

　　"Ridiculous! If Argyle wants this to stop, he simply needs to surrender. Or better yet, kill himself." Praxis argued.

　　"You can make that argument to Prince Augustus in person. He has recalled you. We are to gather the Titans for a face-to-face meeting with Argyle."

　　"Argyle is ready to discuss terms?" Praxis asked, his tone filled with confusion.

　　He expected the war to continue for years more. The borders have barely changed. Why would the Ducal Houses agree to this? They would receive nothing for capitulating at this time, their efforts wasted. Most had only declared for one Prince over the other for personal benefit.

　　"No. New information has come to light. Argyle wishes to settle this quickly before a third party can intervene." Duchess Carmichael`s voice had a strange quality to it. The emphasis on third party` was telling. Praxis sucked in a deep breath, the air whistling slightly between his teeth.

　　"They have made contact?" Praxis asked, careful not to say too much. He wouldn`t take that kind of risk even with a secure communication channel. Duchess Carmichael merely nodded at the question.

　　"This will be settled in a different manner. We have been advised to restore the Empire, and the Princes have agreed to meet and discuss it. The armistice will hold until this is settled."

　　"And where will this peace summit be held?" Praxis asked, his tone doubtful of the outcome. This conflict wouldn`t be settled with words. Only blood could mend the divide, the gap between its sides filled with the bodies of its fallen.

　　"The details are yet to be confirmed, and the time is still uncertain. But the location has been set. Sacred Terra."