Altair's vision was blurry, yet there was something unfathomable in front of him, incomprehensible and confusing. There was sunlight streaking over the cameras that were being transmitted all over his interface. He wanted to reach out, but alas, his body felt too heavy, as if the thousands upon thousands of lives he had wasted had finally dawned upon his worn body.

  "Cough!" He coughed and spat a mouthful of blood. "W-Where am I?" He bellowed inside the cockpit, yet there was no answer.

  "Adjutant?!" His voice fractured and desperate. "Where are you?" He screamed, fear inching closer to his heart and mind.

  There was only silence.

  He knew it was nothing more than a machine, an artificial intelligence, but ever since his first loop, the Adjutant had been his source of solace and comfort.

  "Am I finally alone?" He despaired of his situation.

  The thought of it crushed him more than any other pain he had experienced.

  He was blind, and unable to hear anything, but there was something strange; there was comfort, and peace. Yet, at the same time, everything, everywhere, was so painful—his eyes were searing in pain as if acid were poured into them, his head pulsating with unbearable sickness, and his body ached as if being pummeled by a hammer and nail.

  "So this is the result of failure." He grimaced as the pulsating pain rose a few notches higher. "Unable to save humanity, not even a single one."

  Not even himself.

  Then, cutting through the pain and confusion, a spark of light in a sea of darkness.

  "Lieutenant."

  The voice was distorted, wrong, crackling and incomplete, yet it was unmistakable.

  "Adjutant?" Hope welled within him, painful in its intensity.

  "Affirmative. Currently... suffering critical er... all remaining power is focuse... On your recove... Lieutenant." The Adjutant communicated as best as it could.

  Relief finally washed all over him, yet there was a question that remained within his mind.

  "What is our current location, and how many days have passed?" As the relief passed away, Altair immediately switched to his usual mode.

  The Adjutant whirred as it rerouted all available power that was allowed in capacity to its processing power.

  "Location unknow... There are no data... match. Star patter... unrecognizable. Atmospheric composition breath...ble. Anomalous atmospheric parti... detected. Particles unkno... Reanalyzi... cannot be recogn... no known informati..."

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  "Unknown Particle?" Altair's mind reeled at the thought.

  "Affirmative." The Adjutant's voice started to stabilize. "Days passe... uncertain. Loop count... shows an anomaly."

  "Explain, Anomaly?" Altair narrowed his eyes, preparing himself for the eventual crushing failure.

  "Syste... parameter states that you are... still on the 3,424th loo... Lieutenant." The Adjutant hummed in confusion.

  Upon hearing the news, his heart stopped beating momentarily as a deep searing pain assaulted him deep within his chest, breathless, eyes dilated despite being momentarily blind. Pain he had never imagined reached deep within his mind.

  He wanted to shout, to cry, to go on a rampage. However, experience over thousands of loops dictated it was pointless. His head was throbbing in agony, a severe migraine, and powerlessness. Then with a single tear sliding down his cheeks, he decided to ignore the abyss that formed within his heart.

  "Please... do elaborate, Adjutant."

  There was a deafening silence.

  "Adjutant?" he bellowed with increasing intensity in his voice.

  "Sigh." The Adjutant broke the silence. "I apologize, Lieutenant, I was scanning for all available information in our surroundings."

  "W-What do you mean?" Altair spoke, clinging to a bit of hope, yet he never noticed the oddity that had just transpired.

  "I have never seen such particles in the database of the entire human race, Lieutenant. The star pattern does not align with any known space." The Adjutant hummed louder, then continued further. "Furthermore, there are four humanoids approaching outside that don't register with any known race or sentient species outside of Terra."

  Altair, whose vision was slowly returning, focused his eyes on the tragic cockpit he was in.

  "Blood... blood and dust everywhere." He gazed with a forlorn expression. "Just how much time had passed?" He muttered in the silent air before he glanced back at the broken interface in front of him.

  "Adjutant, bring up the interface, and focus the cameras on the sentient humanoids." Altair said as he watched over the numerous interfaces that were being brought up.

  "It's badly damaged, but could be repaired." He glanced through the consoles.

  "Adjutant, what about our manufacturing lines within the Ironside?"

  The Adjutant then whizzed as it used more computing power.

  "Manufacturing lines are nominal, Lieutenant."

  "Good, focus on building repair drones, and filling up our ammunition capacity." Altair ordered. "What of our reserve resources?"

  "Our reserves are enough to make minimal repairs for optimal function, and to fill up about half of our ammunition stockpile. Currently, we have one-third remaining." The Adjutant paused and then continued, "Once the repairs and ammunition are built and done, we would be able to function for at minimum two weeks, to about a month and a half at maximum."

  Altair tightened his jaw in frustration, and gripped the controls tightly, but knowing it was futile, he sighed and breathed in and out to calm himself.

  "Lieutenant, the cameras outside are now fully functioning again." The Adjutant said as it brought up the four figures approaching outside.

  Altair, upon seeing them, focused with laser-focused intensity, confused and fascinated at the same time.

  "It is not like any other species we have seen." He said, then continued, "They seem similar to those fantasy novels I had read when I was a kid a few hundred years ago."

  "I believe this does confirm it, Lieutenant. We are no longer on Terra." The Adjutant whirred, then continued speaking. "The question now is how did this happen?"

  Altair then moved closer to the interface, yet only bound by the limits of the apparatuses that were attached to his back to help him recover. His eyes then opened wide, as he saw the four figures opening their mouths to speak.

  "Adjutant, can you understand their language?" Altair asked with interest growing.

  "That is a negative, Lieutenant. Their language does not exist in the database; extensive data are needed to develop one functional." The Adjutant said, his voice monotonous.

  "Alright, start recording their linguistics, and develop a translation for us." Altair ordered, his voice cracking.

  "Affirmative, Lieutenant." The Adjutant responded quickly. "Then what would be our first contact protocol with them?"

  Dark steampunk fantasy

  The world of Rohana exists beneath a barrier of luminous crosses that has enclosed humanity in a dome. Within it, people bow to Rohai and his Church of Harmony, who have divided the world into city dwellers who harness crystal technology and villagers who reject it.

  Haran Baratti fled his homeland with his infant son, Heron, and found refuge in a remote village in a neighboring country. But the sanctuary they seek does not last, and events revolving around Haran's past leave Heron alone, forcing him to return to his father's homeland. But to get there, he can only do it by obtaining a special passport, which will allow him to travel to different kingdoms.

  Having been raised in a different culture, Heron will have to navigate a world of mechanical cities powered by crystalline powers and governed by various social structures. There he'll meet allies and face dangerous foes. And those whom he encounters have secrets; some of them, if revealed to the public, may reshape the very foundations of the Rohana Federation. Will Heron, in learning those secrets, realize that maybe some of those secrets should have stayed buried?

  What to expect:

  ? Dark steampunk-inspired power fantasy with extensive world-building

  ? Magic systems where power comes at a psychological cost

  ? Visceral, well-choreographed combat sequences

  ? Mysteries that unfold across multiple volumes

  ? Steampunk aesthetics merged with elemental magic

  ? Stories where the actors are often found in morally grey areas