"Belore, did you seriously forget us? We just got younger, not swapped souls," Layla said dryly.
That voice—Belore's eyes snapped to her. He blinked, then again, before narrowing his gaze. "That tone… that smirk—Layla? And you—Liam?! What in the hells happened to you two?"
Liam raised a mechanical hand in mock innocence. "Built myself a new body."
Layla smirked. "And I mutated."
"Can people even do that?" Belore asked, stunned.
"We did." Layla's voice was smooth with pride.
"Sit down," Liam gestured toward the guest chairs. "Tea or coffee?"
"Coffee. Strong. Sweet and creamy. I need my brain awake. Chaos is consuming the capital."
"AISAR, two coffees—one sweet and milky. One black tea for Layla."
"Right away, sir," AISAR replied.
They gathered at the polished glass table in Liam's office. A wheeled drone rolled in precisely, a tray balanced on top.
"Your drinks, sirs and madam," it said, voice flat but flawless.
Belore picked up his cup and raised an eyebrow at the drone. "AISAR's amazing. I need one of him."
"Thank you, Knight Belore. I receive similar praise frequently," AISAR responded.
Layla narrowed her eyes at Liam, who grinned widely."Why the smug look? AISAR's the genius here, not you."
"But I made him," Liam replied. "Smugness is earned."
Belore leaned forward, expression darkening. "I didn't come just to reminisce. I need your help. The outside world—it's collapsing."
The smiles faded.
"Mount Tambora has erupted. Global ash cover in five months. A decade of fallout."
Liam's knuckles tightened on his cup. Layla's face paled.
"The god clans fled the plane with interdimensional teleportation. The Elven Forest? Gone. Just a vast crater left behind. The dwarves retreated to their deep sanctuaries. No word from beastmen or greenskins in the Grasslands. Earthquakes are reshaping the continent. And I've heard nothing from beyond."
Then—the room shook violently.
"Under the table!" Liam barked.
They dove low as the floor groaned. Glass rattled. Lights flickered. Ten harrowing seconds of tremors before it stopped.
"AISAR, status?"
"Structural integrity reduced to 75%. Systems operating at average capacity."
"And the capital?"
"Mass structural failure. Buildings collapsed. Drainage systems in multiple sectors caved in. Slum districts have been flattened."
Belore's voice cracked. "It's begun—the nightmare."
Layla glanced up. "Why is your building still standing?"
"I reinforced it. Yours too, Layla."
A flicker of relief crossed her face. "Then maybe my lab's still intact."
Belore rose. "I'm gathering the last of the capital's leaders. We meet the day after tomorrow at 8 PM at Knight Headquarters. I need both of you."
Outside:
Belore flew off, streaking toward the Knight Headquarters, artifacts glowing and walkie-talkie crackling with orders.
Liam and Layla stepped into a city that looked like the end of the world.
Collapsed homes. Fires burning. Screams. Sirens. A child sobbed beside their crushed mother. A man screamed into the dirt, digging with bleeding hands.
Liam tapped the side of his glasses. "AISAR, give me structure overlays and vital signs."
"Uploading now. Displaying life signs beneath rubble. Recommending clearing patterns for optimal rescue efficiency."
Liam moved with precision—small debris tossed aside, heavy ones crushed with his reinforced limbs.
Layla's mana flared subtly—succubus magic. Her voice cut through panic like silk-coated steel.
"You! Start digging there. You—get water and bandages! Move the injured to stable ground!"
Something in her presence compelled obedience. Panic dulled. Focus sharpened. Civilians moved.
Around them, only reinforced or enchanted buildings remained: mage towers, noble estates, and churches. The rest? Flattened like paper dolls.
Liam looked to the miasma-thickened sky.
"If this is the capital… what's happening in the rest of the world?"