Chapter Text
The war rages on. The Godseeker, Yharim, continues his crusades against the gods of Terraria. The lands are engulfed in flame and destruction. The roars of battle echo throughout all the land, never stopping for a moment. Morals have been disregarded. All that matters now, is the survival of the ancient gods, against the unwavering might of the mechanical horrors of Yharim's army.
"Good. The Exotechnology is holding strong, and fulfilling it's sole purpose. The war shall end soon, and we shall be victorious." Draedon's voice echoes through the halls of his laboratory, heard by him, and him only. The glowing blue screens surround the mechanical genius, showing displays and numbers, almost decipherable. The display suddenly starts flashing red, with a voice blaring from the speakers of the computer. "WARNING. WARNING. UNIT EX-18: HADES POWER CRITICALLY LOW. WARNING. WARNING. UNIT DR-02: ANUBIS HULL STRUCTURE FAILURE. WEAPONS INACTIVE." The alarm keeps blaring, as Draedon rushes over to a machine, one of supreme technology. He places himself in, and is transported to the constant fighting, purely to observe.
As the fighting ensues, he sees his creations at war, failing to finish their task. As they slowly get destroyed, Draedon hears a signature roar, that of the Jungle Dragon. Fighting alongside the almost limitless amount of soldiers, the sight of the brimstone witch, Calamitas, fighting someone else's war. It's clear she doesn't wish to fight here, but she is overtaken and filled with the anger of revenge, and the will to make things right. As he observes the chaos, and the failure of his machines, he hears the unmistakable voice, one who commands all. Yharim. "And what exactly are you doing here, Draedon? I thought you knew your job in this fight is to sit in your safe, protected lab and monitor your clearly under prepared machines." The Tyrant speaks, voice unwavering. It's clear he's tired of Draedon's mistakes. "I am here to observe. How do you expect me to craft the front-line of your army without knowing the flaws in the designs?" Draedon quickly snaps back, before returning to watching the fight unfold in front of him. Yharim's voice booms through the cries of the injured and fighting. "I'm tired of your constant mishaps and excuses. Fix the issue, and stop complaining while idling and doing nothing." Before Draedon can give an excuse, Yharim strikes the physical form of Draedon, destroying the hologram.
As he reawakens in his lab, the computer is still blaring meaningless warnings. "I can't deal with him anymore. He expects perfection, yet can't deal with the failures that come with such." Draedon's complaints land on deaf ears, but he knows that something will, no, HAS to change.
--END CHAPTER--