1 Chapter 1: The Kingmaker

"If anyone told me a good leader is defined through his superior intelligence or his irresistible charisma then I would spit oil from my deepest parts on their face. Yes, stratagems win wars but without the hydraulics to back them up, they are useless. Pure violence reigns on the battlefield. No matter how fast your processor is, if you can not block my punch you will be dust on the ground, nourishment for the little ones. The poor bastards in front of me had the honor to experience it first hand.

'Take up Drill-Formation! We will go through them until only steel shavings remain! Attack!'

A horde of rusty mecha beasts charged on my command. These useless pieces of garbage did not yet cultivate a sense of self, most of them never do. A pity. Their strength lies in their sheer endless numbers but they are limited in their individual growth. A machine only develops after it finds its own purpose. I know it sounded a bit brainy for someone like me and I am aware that I somewhat contradict my earlier statement but purposeless violence is just that. Violence. If you destroy your enemy with a clear goal in mind, now that is war. And war is what I was created for!

I rammed the nearest foe. It flew against its compatriots toppling four other machines. I drew my horned battleax and slashed all five in one strike. 'Heh, I like free kills', I snorted, 'but I love hard-earned oil shed even more!' Their attention was on me. They were coming, alright. I focussed the elemental energy into my core. It condensed. A fireball, roughly the size of a human fist, formed. I channeled it into my free hand and punched the ground. The earth split beneath me. A makeshift canyon formed filled with diabolical fire. The ones who couldn't dodge in time were roasting until their synthetic screams ceased… "

"That's enough, Papa! Your stories are boring and, frankly, gross!" A shrill voice admonished the battle-hardened behemoth. A little girl stood in front of a gigantic bull-like machine with black hooves, steel hands, and eyes made out of literal fire. The girl looked much like a human if they would wear a silvery onesie. This was no cloth though. The girl's skin was entirely made out of silver. Her hair consisted of black iron strands. Eyes made out of pure blue flames were the only resemblance she had to her father.

The mechanical minotaurus scratched its head: "Look, Pachi, I need you to learn the art of war. Someday you will battle by yourself. Papa can't always watch over you."

The silvery girl, called Pachi rolled her eyes: "Yes, you can! You are literally immortal! We all are! We don't age, we don't starve and we don't die of boredom. 'Cause if we would, I'd be long dead."

"You are right that time doesn't kill us but swords and fire will."

"I thought you and King Midas united the tribes of the steppes? When was the last war? There hasn't been one since I was awakened."

"That doesn't mean that it won't happen again", he sighed.

Their discussion was interrupted by clicking feet in front of their tent. A messenger arrived: "General, the King calls you!"

"Speaking of the devil. Pachi, this discussion is not over, merely postponed, you hear?"

She nodded while frowning. It was not their first debate and will not be their last, or so she thought. Pachi just didn't see the point of learning about war. She didn't even understand what it meant to 'live'. She just existed. Not understanding what it meant to have a goal in mind or what it meant to be resolved. "Purpose, huh?" she thought.

The behemoth looked back before exiting the tent and gently said: "Rest well, my small heli."

For once Pachi did as she was told. She curled up and went on stand-by mode.

Machines do not often dream. Most information was processed instantly but every mecha-beast who developed a self-consciousness has rapidly evolving code implanted into them. How it worked, no one knew exactly, but most beastly scholars agreed that it had something to do with the nanomachines the humans developed, the so-called cyber spirits. The code rarely deviated without outside stimuli, like a heated battle. But if this special event happened without outside help then it most likely was the result of a 'dream'.

Pachi regained her original Form in her dream world. Most mecha-beasts were born after the great cataclysm and resembled now extinct lifeforms. She was different though. She was much older than her kind. She was an apache helicopter, abandoned to rust and the elements.

Not being able to do anything by herself. She was made to be used. Her purpose was to be a tool of war. Without humans, she was nothing more than a pile of junk. She did not care though. She had not developed consciousness, yet. She saw herself from the outside. Painfully relating to the useless scrap metal. "Why do I even exist?" She asked herself this question every day. She did not know the answer. But Pachi was about to find out.

A single blue tear rolled down her cheeks. As soon as it hit the ground it began to ripple. The ashen steppes changed to a lush verdant carpet. Grasslands as far as the eye could see. Pachis' view changed to a birdseye because she, herself, was now flying over the green pastures. She never felt so excited. She spotted the occasional extinct lifeform in the tall grass. Even humans were to be seen working the fields. "Beautiful", she was simply in awe.

It turned to shock when a tsunami of fire turned the perceived paradise into a living hell. All the tolling lifeforms expired when the lush grass began to burn like hellfire. Her pilots shared the fate of the other organic beings. And Pachi plunged into the hot ash which began her frigid descent into loneliness.

She woke up in an ocean of fire. Her tent and all her possessions in it were aflame. The items were of no real value for her or the community but she collected some interesting gadgets. It was the only activity that brought her happiness. Like everything in her so-called-life, it turned to ash.

But she was not defeated so easily. She grabbed into the flames and picked out a single apparatus with the inscription Gameboy. The flames did not wait for her and started to consume everything around her. Pachis' only option was to flee the tent.

Outside she was greeted by the real chaos.

"I helped Midas claim the throne! Why would I assassinate him now?" A familiar baritone vibrated through the steppes.

"A stupid question by a stupid bull! You wanted the power for yourself, didn't you?" A crimson snake-like mecha-beast was pointing at the behemoth in chains.

"Shut it, Inquisitor! Where is Iselda? She saw what happened! Humans invaded the camp and-" An adamant fist was silencing the old bull. A jade-green humanoid mecha-tiger with red stripes stood in front of Pachis' father.

"Enough talk, old man!" he drew his two-handed saber, "Iselda told us all we need to know." The vicious Tiger beheaded the bull with eerie precision.

"No!!!" Pachi screamed and ran toward the tragic scene. She was tackled and dragged away before her presence was noticed by the gathered mob. She did not witness how the tiger mounted the bulls' head on a lance.

A bronze dragon flew to the scene. He announced to all the mecha-beasts of the united tribes: "My father, King Midas was murdered by his trusted general, the one titled, Kingmaker, Minos, the God of War. I personally was shocked that such a cowardly betrayal was possible for machines like us. I, myself, always considered Minos my uncle. But justice does not know mercy. The betrayer is dead. May my fathers' soul rest in peace." The prince landed amidst the crowd. "Only with a heavy heart will I resume my fathers' burden and take up his crown to lead the mecha beasts into an age of ultimate prosperity!"

The chants started quietly but got louder and louder. "Long live King Septus! Hail King Septus!"

A new King arose from the ashes of the old one and the Kingmaker unwillingly, and for the last time, helped in the crowning of a new Monarch.