Chương 290: Chapter 289 - Nine-Tenths

The Machine God · Xiphias · 301 chương · ~20 phút đọc · Tạo 21/08/2026

Alexander lay on his back, staring up at the night sky with his hands tucked behind his head. The wind dragged at his jacket and hair. Droney rested on his chest, visor aimed at the same stars twinkling above. The little drone beeped. A query.

"I know, I know. I just think it's really important that we do it right." The past two weeks had been hectic. He'd raced all across Europe, hitting Empire fortresses one after another. Borrowing staves and wands, and even two spellbooks. Those had taken some persuasion. And electricity. But none of the forts or their overseers had put up much of a fight. The conscripts had been the hardest part. Not because they fought well, but because he'd had to be careful with them. Disarming without killing.

Beating without maiming. It slowed everything down. Still, he'd gained much more than just a massive pile of magical artillery and research material. He pulled up his status. — [STATUS] Alexander Rooke | Alias: Machine God | Guild: Grimnir (Leader) | Alliances: The Royals (Defensive, Formal) | Throne of Scales (Defensive, Formal) | Designation:???

"See?" Droney beeped. Confused.

"I'm telling you, it's about perception!" He pulled his cybernetic hand from behind his head and patted the drone on the dome.

"Back on Earth 1, I was a proper supervillain from the beginning. I even had the best tragic backstory. Just picture it." He held out his cybernetic hand and swept it wide.

"Our villain. A sudden and unfortunate death, only to wake up screaming in the body of his alternate self right as he's about to be pushed into an incinerator. Then a daring escape, a plucky sidekick, and a cast of allies turned best friends and family. Hunted by the government and the tyrannical wealthy elite that rule the world." Another beep. Resignation. Alexander continued anyway.

"Finally, after fighting his way through overwhelming odds, our enigmatic yet misunderstood supervillain reveals the truth to the world. That the governments are lying. That the elites are the rats fleeing the ship. And then he goes on to slay an evil vampire politician and save the world." You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. His hand dropped, clanging loudly against the surface he was lying on.

"And with that one unfortunate mistake, the evil System is suddenly confused. Question mark-question mark-question mark it says." He sighed.

"Alas, our poor villain makes a second mistake. He saves a bunch of idiot wizards who don't know how to abandon ship and suddenly the System paints him a superhero!" Droney remained silent. Alexander grabbed Droney with one hand and turned it to face him.

"But we're finally back to being in the middle. The System doesn't know how to categorize us yet again." He gestured with his other hand at the surrounding airspace.

"All we need to do is make sure that the attack on the convoy is perfectly villainous, and we'll be back, baby! Just in time." Around them were two warships, cutting through the air on either side of the one Alexander was lying on top of. They'd dropped toward the clouds an hour earlier, after lighting up the night sky as they burned through atmosphere on their way down from space. Alexander had been flying east, heading toward where the clans would be.

They had just under thirty-six hours before the gateway opened, and Droney calculated that they still had enough time to drop off their haul, retrieve the spellbook and staff, then head back to the fortress. He had no doubt that when it opened, the Empire was going to be in for the fight of its life. Grimnir would probably be out in force. Then there were the others. Julia, for sure. Maybe that would even pull Max and the Throne of Scales into the mix.

The Royals, possibly, though he wouldn't blame them if they decided to sit it out. He'd been a bit of an asshole to them the last time they spoke, what with the threats to kill King and all. Then again, if Spencer thought a path adjustment was necessary, that could be enough. Hjordis and Sindre might even drop by for some exercise. Alexander grinned. He was really looking forward to it. The wizard world had been a lot of fun, ignoring the Empire razing an entire city because of his actions.

He'd kicked Flashpoint's ass. Totally easily. Made some friends. Mocked a creepy wizard god. Kicked off a revolution. Earned some genuine gains, particularly in his physical attributes, which had been lagging behind for a while. But there hadn't been much of a real challenge. Nothing to genuinely push his growth toward Tier 3. Especially toward the end of his campaign. Several of the fortresses had been abandoned and stripped clean. The two that held gateways had been sealed, using the System option.

He didn't know if they were Nightmare or Earth 1 gates, but it didn't matter. Droney beeped. Another query. Alexander frowned.

"Well, sure. I'm not going to kill everyone aboard. That would defeat the purpose. We need lots of witnesses." He held up a finger.

"I have a plan, though. And we need to stop them anyway, because they're heading toward the Great Steppe. They might be targeting the clans." Droney beeped again. Agreement. Then worry. It had been a long two weeks with nobody but Droney to talk to. Alexander chuckled.

"I know, I know. I've been going a bit crazy, but we're almost home." He yawned.

"Alright. Let's get to it." He took a breath, and his Domain swept outward. His powered senses stretched even further, taking in every bioelectrical signature spread across the three warships. Each ship had a single Tier 2 aboard, though their strength didn't impress, along with hundreds of Tier 1s. Metallokinesis pulsed, pushing against his armor and cybernetic arm, lifting him to his feet. The air dragged harder against him, but the ships were only moving a couple hundred kilometers an hour. Nothing too serious.

Even Droney could keep up with that, firing its hovertech and racing alongside where he stood. Alexander interlocked his fingers and stretched his hands out, cracking the joints on his right hand. Then he glanced left and right, reaching out with both hands. The two escorting warships were a few hundred meters distant from the center one upon which he stood, but that was more than close enough for what he had in mind.

Metallokinesis poured out of him at maximum strength, instantly shattering the lazily held magical defenses protecting the ships. Bioelectrical signatures spiked with alarm. Several Wills pushed back, but it was already too late. Ownership was nine-tenths, as they said. And Metallokinesis now owned both adjacent warships. It seized hold of both laterally, while permitting their forward momentum. Alexander clenched his fists. And pulled.

The two warships careened inward, their noses angling sharply toward the path of the center warship. Signatures beneath his feet also began to react. Probably responding to the other ships suddenly turning toward them on whatever amounted to visual feeds within the bridge. He cycled Electrokinesis into his Core, raised his right foot, then stomped downward. Lightning exploded from his foot, pouring into the ship, racing through the structure in an instant.

It erupted from walls, floors, and ceilings, striking at the signatures he could feel running around the bridge below. Alexander braced himself with Metallokinesis as the two warships on either side smashed into the one he was riding. Metal screeched as it caved in, the impact causing the ships' hulls to ripple outward as the force spread throughout. He could feel some of the signatures blink out of existence from the collision, but he tuned them out. Instead, he took another step forward.

His hands pushed downward, fingers spread. Metallokinesis pulsed again. One mental thread held the three ships together, forming them into a single, massive object. The other drove the ships down toward the earth below, simultaneously bleeding some of their forward momentum as they fell. Alexander rode the warships down through the clouds. Spread out ahead of them were grasslands and gentle rolling hills. Perfect for an improvised landing.

Within the ships, dozens of mages were casting spells, trying to push back his control. Others were trying to slow their descent, from the feel of it. Alexander let them, instead focusing his Will against the magic trying to restore the magical protections. Their mistake was letting their focus wander, and their efforts relax, just because there was no visible thread. He wouldn't make the same mistake. The ground rushed up to meet them. Five hundred meters. Four hundred. Three hundred. Two hundred. One hundred.

Alexander pulsed Metallokinesis through his armor and boots and cybernetic arm, gently disconnecting himself from the hull. For a moment he hung above the fused warships as they continued downward beneath him, a mountain of hijacked imperial metal dropping out of the sky. Then he pulled. Not enough to stop them. Not even close. Stopping them cold would tear them apart and kill everyone inside. He pulled just enough.

The three warships slammed into the grasslands belly-first, undersides crumpling as metal screamed, the sound rolling out across the shadowy hills around them. The ground cratered beneath them. Dirt, stone, and torn grass erupted in every direction as the ships drove forward, carving through the earth, leaving deep scars in their wake. Bioelectrical signatures flared as they were tossed around inside the metal deathtraps. Dozens vanished.

Alexander felt each one blink out, but kept his focus on controlling the momentum. The angle of the crash. Maintaining each ship's structural integrity. The ships wanted to break apart, each hull twisting against the others as the ground tore back against them, friction fighting velocity. He forced them to hold together as their passage flattened a hill. One warship's nose dug in too deep, and the entire mass tried to pitch forward.

Alexander clenched his right fist and wrenched it back into alignment before the ship could flip, causing the metal to screech louder as rock and dirt continued erupting everywhere. Then the convoy slowed. Hundreds of meters of scarred earth became two hundred. Then, finally, with one last groan of tortured metal, the fused warships ground to a halt in the middle of the plains. Dust and dirt rolled outward in a thick wave. Alexander hovered above it all, jacket snapping in the wind, Droney floating at his shoulder.

He waited for the dust to settle, then swept the wreck with his senses again. Plenty of survivors. Good. He straightened his jacket, raised his chin, and grinned. Now came the villainous part. Metallokinesis began to peel the ships open as he descended.

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