Chapter 3: To Fly Beyond the Sky

There was an entire ritual to put a pilot into their mech. It isn’t like an aviation pilot who could easily hop in and flip a few switches to bring their machine of war to life. For the pilot of the mechanised walkers, the process of getting in and integrating with the system is far more involved.

Every pilot must wear a bodysuit known as a sync-skin. A skin-tight suit infused with magic crystals and neuro-readers helps the pilot have their cognition tuned to the mech. To the pilots, a mech is not just some vehicle to pilot, but a second body to control and see out of.

Every mech has a wide range of sensory and optical systems built in. The pilot can see in infrared, night vision, ultrasound, and more. At first, people worried that this sort of sensory output would put too much stress on the pilot. Instead, the new stimuli seemed natural to the pilot. None of them were even aware that they could see the world in ultraviolet colours or that they could detect the heartbeat of the enemy through walls. To them, it was as normal as breathing.

However, putting on the sync-skin could take an hour as the pilot would need to have their mind synchronised with the magic crystals. Without the process of synchronisation, the pilot would be unable to operate their mech. A magical connection would be considered an automatic one due to how seamless it was.

Once the skin was on, a crane would hoist the pilot up and lower them into the sleeves of the mech. The sleeves would amplify the pilot’s connection to their rig. Once in the sleeve, the pilot will align themselves so three needle-like injectors will insert into their ports along their spine and back of their head. These needles were the invasive and direct version of connecting the pilot to their mech besides having their mind linked to the mech through magical means. Making the pilot have manual control over their rig.

Though both methods ensure the pilot connects with their mech. It was the most expensive and complex mech to produce. However, a hybrid mech was considered more favourable because it had the best and zero drawbacks of either a manual or automatic mech.

One of the biggest fears of a mech pilot was being disconnected from their rig. With an automatic connection, all one needed to do was dampen the magic in the area, and the pilot had lost control of their machine. With a manual, a well-placed shot at the back of the mech could sever the connection between pilot and walker.

It was why a hybrid was beloved by all pilots. It was because it could provide a backup connection in case one of them failed.

After every pilot got into their rigs. They marched to the airstrip to their designated aircraft to transport them. A twin-jet aircraft designed to transport and airdrop LV311 units onto the battlefield. The Thunderspear. The Order Militant’s favoured design. Armed with only a cannon in case the aircraft gets into a fight, the Thunderspear is an effective piece of hardware utilised by the Order.

The jet can also serve in a logistical role to deliver supply crates to the front lines and get out of the battle as quickly as possible. Though not the best fighter they had on hand, it performed its role excellently.

But due to the mission and what they have to go through. At the end of each nose of the jet is a large purple sphere. A Realm Breacher. The device that should help the aircraft and the mech survive going beyond the boundaries of the realm, so they could safely travel to the Kingdom of Luaria by going through the Realm of the Dead.

James distrusted the new technology. There were theories that going into the Realm of the Dead was possible with some sort of field that would shield anyone from the raw energies of magic. However, to navigate through the dimension, they would need to be close to the border of material reality. Essentially, the jet behaves like a rock skipping over a body of water. Close enough to jump back into material reality, deep enough to still be in the oceans of magic.

But they were that. Theories. Something as dangerous as bending and punching through reality itself didn’t sit right with James. He was willing to throw his life for the mission, but he wanted his death to have some sort of purpose. Testing unproven theories was below him, especially if it would determine the outcome of the war.

In the end, orders were orders. Regardless of what he felt, the Order Militant had faith that the tech would work and that the drop was possible. Instead of voicing his concern, he piloted his mech to get on its knees so he could crawl under the jet to hook up. There was a war going on, and he would be the one to end it. That was his creed, his proclamation before getting into his mech.

“Prepare for take off. All mechs must have their limbs locked in before launch.” The flight squad leader announced on the intercom. Transmitting to every mech pilot on the same frequency.

“All external audio must be deactivated for the duration of the flight once we enter the Realm of the Dead.” The pilot continued. “Please switch to private channels for personal communications with the adjacent mech operator to prevent any interference with our systems. We will arrive at the drop zone in twenty minutes.”

James stuck his tongue out to bite down. A way to help him focus as he moved his mech limbs subconsciously to be in place, while his hand reached for the switch to lock the mech limbs in place. Once done, he let out a sigh of relief.

Moving one limb subconsciously was easy, but to move all four limbs would cause stress to the pilot. One wrong move or one misstep could cause a synapse-conflict, which could be fatal to the pilot. It would be like moving two bodies independently. Mechs needed the pilot to be in unison with the rig for it to function as intended. Going against it would cause the mech’s complex neural-networks to overload. If the pilot was lucky, they would die outright. If they were not, the mech would consume their subconscious. Turning the pilot’s corpse into nothing more than a bio-battery while the rig would become a new entity. A new enemy and horror the Order would need to put down. Out of mercy and practicality.

Once everything is in place. James switched off all external audio and switched certain power systems to maintain life support and heating, and cooling systems. He wasn’t sure what the realm would be like, nor did anyone know what sort of radical temperature differences they might experience once in the magical dimension.

“All mechs are hooked up, preparing for launch in five.”

The roar of the Thunderspear’s twin-engines caused James’ mech to rattle. Each Thunderspear pilot conducted a few more tests and did a radio check to see if all things checked out. Even if none of them admitted it, James could tell they were anxious about the mission. Lucky for them, they had a chance to escape and survive. He didn’t have the luxury.

Once everything was in order, the jets went down the runway and took flight. Soaring through the skies and rising to the clouds. Flying away from The Gash to ensure a safe jump through reality.

James closed his eyes, expecting a quick death as they prepared to punch through the fabrics of magic and reality. He curled his lip, unsure if he should say a prayer or keep silent. “We'd better get through.” He mumbled to himself while he reached for his shotgun revolver. Just in case he needed to use it.

The higher they went, the darker the spheres became as the magical veil of the realm became thinner. At 10 kilometres above ground, violet sparks spew from the sphere. At 15 kilometres, the sphere becomes a ball of light as magic charges it up to turn the aircraft into a reality cutter. Then, at 20 kilometres, the sky shattered apart before them. Creating a doorway for the squadron to fly into the unknown.

Feeling that nothing had happened, James opened his eyes and saw it. The Realm of the Dead. It was an ocean of clouds, distorted shapes, and raging storms. Even though the Drop Squadron kept their formation, he could barely see most of them as the realm of magic distorted his mech’s optics.

Though he couldn’t hear the whispers of creation outside of his rig. The energy of life could be felt as continent-sized lightning jumped from one cloud of souls to another. Each spark generated an explosion of colour while also distorting any sense of orientation James had left as the dimension shifted and changed with every thunderous collision. There was no sense of up, down, left, or right. Instead, it was almost like he was floating in the emptiness of magical space.

At the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a hand pressed against his mech. Even if they were only in the realm for a few seconds, he couldn’t shake the sense of dread that something was watching them. He was in a place of pure chaos and energy. It made sense that the power source of all magic originated from the dimension of souls and the mother of all life. An uncaring fabric of reality that existed for only one purpose. Causality. Everything material led to the creation of the Realm of the Dead, and in turn, the Realm helped create life by providing a soul. It didn’t need to exist or have any reason to. It just did.

Souls only served one function. It was the spark that started every heart. All living organisms have a soul, from the most complex creatures to even single-cell organisms. Most importantly, all souls are equal in value. The greatest human soul would be no different or special compared to that of a mushroom. All were equal in the eyes of a harsh universe. James just had to be comfortable with that fact.

Of course, the journey through a different dimension wasn’t meant to be easy. Randomly, his mech and the jet he was hooked up to would be struck by magical lightning. Thankfully, not doing anything besides damaging the paint.

Others weren’t so lucky as bolts of magical electricity the size of school buses came down from a random direction and sliced the jet and mech in half. James swore he could hear them scream as they died, even if it wasn’t physically possible.

He wanted to see who had perished and who was still alive. But due to his inability to broadcast a signal without jeopardising the mission. James was unsure who perished inside the realm. For all he knew and what he could see, only six teammates were still alive.

“James,” Hawk said through the intercom in a playful tone. The mech pilot James linked his communications with before they flew into the realm. “How are you enjoying the ride?”

James checked his watch, seeing how long he would have before the drop. “So far, not bad. Expected worse, though.”

“Worse!? My friend, we are inside what could be actual Hell.” Hawk laughed to himself, trying his best to lighten the mood. “So, Captain. What do you expect we will fight down there?”

“Intel suggests mages, golems, dragons, and militia forces. Nothing we can’t handle.”

Hawk scoffed. “I dunno, we are heading into the heart of their capital. I doubt we are just dealing with mages who were taught basic spells like those near the river or along the mountains. We are dealing with their teachers and some of the best in their bloody kingdom.”

“Even so, we can still achieve some of our goals.” James reached for his glove box above his head to reach for a map of the city’s layout. “If we hit hard and fast, we can shock the defenders and cause them to scramble. We just need to focus on the tower and their economic centres. Cripple their war effort before their major counteroffensive.”

“I saw the estimated layout of the tower. How the hell are we going to knock it down? None of us have the ordinance to bring the fucker down.”

“Then we become the ordinance,” James said, allowing Hawk to get off the hook with his use of crass language.

Hearing that, Hawk laughed. Finding it amusing that they would become nothing more than artillery pieces raining down to cause havoc. “Of course, we are just weapons.”

James kept quiet, not interested in commenting any further. They were tasked to win a war, not participate in idle chatter and bond over something as useless as how to achieve a military objective. Hawk knew what he needed to do, and so do James.

However, Hawk knew they only had one more day left. A perfect opportunity to speak his mind freely and without risk of punishment.

“Captain, can I ask you something?”

James shrugged, seeing that they had plenty of time to talk before they would go into battle. “Ask away.”

“What is the point of this war? Wouldn’t it be better to help them and save as many as possible before their realm collapses?”

“We are dealing with an enemy that threatens humanity. Why should we lend them our hand and save them?” James asked rhetorically. “We swore an oath to defend humanity from any kind of threat. Doesn’t matter what their circumstances are or why, we made a promise, and we will do anything to ensure our survival.”

“What about the kits?” Hawk pointed out. “We made an alliance with them. Why can’t we extend the favour to the people of this realm?”

“The kits can manage their home realm and ensure it doesn’t collapse. The creatures of this realm have proven themselves unable to do it and thus are unworthy of survival.”

“Then what if they could maintain their realm?”

“Then we will have a different problem to contend with,” James harshly pointed out. “It doesn’t matter what they are or how they came into existence. Nor should we consider the reasons for their realm’s existence. We found them, and they have found us. It only becomes a matter of time before one or the other strikes first and declares war. I prefer we take initiative and break them.”

Hawk chuckled, “looks like someone is into the Dark Forest Theory.”

James raised a brow, unsure how Hawk could find his response amusing. “It has a point about how we should interact with the unknown.”

“I dunno. I don’t think just attacking anything that pokes its head out is a good idea in the long term.” Hawk continued. “There will be points where we need to put down the gun and talk to the people on the other side.”

“But until then, we will do what we do best. Kill the foe and ensure the survival of humanity at all costs. That is how we win, and that is what we must do.” James said before putting his map away into the glove box. He could do another round of diagnostic checks, but he decided to sit back and prepare for the drop. They were nearing their target.

“In that case, let’s show them the might of humanity.”

“Agree,” James responded. “Let’s force them to fear our metal.”