Mathew dreamed that he was high above the world. He was no longer himself. He wasn't even Mathias.
He was a malleable, infinitely flexible being, able to take any shape he envisioned. He was vast, stretching across the sky. He could go anywhere and do anything he wished.
It was a feeling of absolute freedom and absolute power.
And then he looked down upon the land below, and his joy was interrupted.
Creatures now inhabited the land. Creatures that were not there before. Mathew, or the being he had become, had been on a journey for only a short time and yet, already, aliens had taken root in His hunting grounds.
These creatures vaguely resembled large humanoid reptiles.
Huts of mud and brick now dotted the landscape, and they had planted crops, orchards, and fields of flowers. They had even domesticated and herded animals.
As He watched, the anger that swelled up within Him was immeasurable. Heat like that of the sun, drained from all the stars in the cosmos, filled Him as He crashed His body into the earth, burning everything they had built and grown, to the ground.
The creatures screamed and scurried about, attempting to escape Him, but there was nowhere to go. They were all pests in His perfect world, vermin that needed to be exterminated for disturbing his peace.
Every single one He touched burned. They were surprisingly resilient, and even though eventually they would turn to ash and bones, some of them could survive whole hours of being burned by His Eternal Fire before succumbing.
Their durability only angered Him even more, however, and though a few managed to hide from Him, His desire to destroy them was never quelled.
Mathew Awoke.
He was being carried by Chares piggy-back, wrapping his arms around the acolyte's neck like a sleepy toddler might cling to his father. It was rather impressive that Chares was strong enough to carry a Mathew such a distance.
While Mathew was still in a half-asleep, groggy state after just waking up, he had thought to himself that it was actually pretty nice to be carried like that. As they passed through the front gate of the temple, however, his comfort quickly turned into embarrassment.
A grown man carrying another grown man, who was supposed to be his superior, on his back while he took a nap?
For the first time since waking up in this world, Mathew was grateful for his metal face, otherwise it would be a bright red color.
The doors behind them closed as they entered the temple, and the gathered acolytes watched with curiosity as Mathew patted Chares on the shoulder.
"You can let me down now, Chares. Thank you for carrying me all this way." Chares allowed him to get down, and then bowed deeply.
"Of course, Master Dread."
It seemed that Mathew had collapsed after containing the Catastrophe within the Iron Mind. Chares had carried him back the entire way to the temple.
Had the world-ending threat really been stopped? Was it really trapped inside him?
Mathew tried to focus his attention inward, and for a moment, he thought he could feel… Something powerful swirling around in his metal skull. But it was faint.
What was he to do now?
He looked around at the people around him. Out of nearly a hundred followers, not even a third of them remained. The rest had been pointlessly sacrificed to a being of unknown origin, and now traveled with the wind as nothing more than gray powder.
Mathew had saved those who still lived, and possibly the entire world if the calendar Mathias had created was correct… But he had failed to save the rest. Mathew cast his case to his feet and sighed.
At some point during the ordeal, he had stopped considering them to be the followers of Mathias and began to consider them his own followers.
Now that Mathew understood the powers of the Iron Mind, or at least some of them, he realized there had been no reason for his followers to come out with him to stop that thing. Every death could have been avoided.
"Master… have we done it? Have we stopped the catastrophe?" It was Aesop asking, and Mathew saw the question beneath the question: Was it worth it?
Mathew took a few seconds to respond, trying his best to keep emotion out of his voice, so he could sound as confident as possible.
"Yes, Aesop. We did it. The world is safe." At first, his statement was only met with dazed expressions, but after a moment, the acolytes began to look at each other with relief, and a few even smiled. One in particular even started crying, and said:
"It was as you said, Master. Everyone who gave their lives did so with purpose." Mathew's chest hurt at the statement, but he didn't have the strength to tell the man otherwise.
And he would never get the chance to.
The loud sound of knocking echoed through the room.
It was a strange sound to Mathew. The front entrance of the temple was graced by a pair of large, heavy, double doors that were practically gates. The idea that someone would simply walk up and knock on them as if they were delivering the mail was almost comical to him.
"Hello?" Said Chares, who was closest to the door. "Who is there?"
In response, the doors swung open with such force they shuttered, and the simple metal latch that had been keeping them closed warped and broke off.
Chares barely avoided colliding with the door near him, though it left him reeling backwards, off balance.
Mathew half expected to see a whole crew of soldiers carrying a battering ram on the other side of the doorway. But to his shock, it was a lone woman most likely around his age.
The young woman stood with her hands still outstretched in a pushing motion, as if she had merely pressed lightly on the doors.
But Mathew knew she had to possess inhuman strength to open them as she had.
She walked into the room, her expression made of steel, her eyes preemptively narrowed. She was approaching 2 meters in height, but even if she hadn't been, her presence would still have commanded attention.
Coppery skin, long auburn hair that was wild and messy to the point of almost being unkempt. She wore a golden breastplate of intricate design, and a pair of vambraces that matched. The rest of her was covered head to toe with thick black leather layers, padding any areas not protected by metal.
Mathew was so drawn in by her dramatic show of force that it took him a moment to realize she wasn't alone.
A giant of a man stood behind her, wearing white armor over similar black leather, with short black hair cut close to his scalp. His face was chiseled and filled with harsh lines, though the crows' feet at his eyes implied that he smiled often.
He wasn't smiling now, however, and the massive battle Axe resting on his shoulder revealed that he meant business.
The entire weapon, hilt and all, was made of a silvery metal and was unnaturally reflective like a mirror.
"Greetings." The young woman said calmly, though a lethal danger was hidden behind her tone.
"What do you want from us?" asked Chares, clutching his club tightly. The woman drilled into each of the acolytes with her eyes, her gaze finally landing on Mathew before she responded:
"There is a very special and powerful Blessed Numen in this temple, a relic of great importance to me. Perhaps you could help us retrieve it?"
Was she talking about the artifact held by the statue of the Lady?
Chares, who seemed to have the same idea, spoke for him:
"We do not have such a relic. And even if we did, we certainly would not hand it over to the likes of you." His voice was shaking every so slightly, but he was unyielding.
The woman sighed, "How disappointing." She held out a hand toward Chares and then said to her companion, "Argus, show them how serious we are," before closing her hand into a fist.
In mere milliseconds, the large armored man, Argus, moved from where he was to right in front of Chares, his axe already swinging downward at the acolyte.
Chares reflexively held up his club to block, but the axe cleaved right through the club, as well as Chares' arms and body, as if they had the viscosity of air. The cut went diagonally from left shoulder to right hip, causing a massive spray of red as Chares literally fell to pieces on the ground.
Silence followed as the rest of the followers stared in horror, including Mathew himself.
It wasn't long since he had watched the bulk of his followers be incinerated by flames, but that didn't make the brutality of the death any less shocking. He hadn't known the man for very long, but it was still a cruel way to meet his end.
The woman hadn't even looked as her companion had murdered Chares. It was as if to her, the action was but an afterthought. Everyone inside the main hall was staring at her in stunned expressions, as if their brains had collectively short-circuited.
She broke the silence with an unfeeling tone: "Well, now that we are better acquainted, I will ask again: Will you help us retrieve the relic?"
All around her, the Acolytes began lifting up their weapons; some had faces white with fear, others had teeth clenched in rage, and all had shaking hands.
There seemed to be no hope of a peaceful resolution anymore.