Chapter Text
The moments that follow are a dizzying blur of adrenaline and anxiety as darkness bleeds across the sky, swallowing up the dying light of day and the emerging stars.
Ryunosuke, Kazuma, and Ursavra had run through the Lanayru Promenade, the pounding of their feet against cobblestone and the neighboring cries and incoherent prayers of the fleeing Chantry periodically deafened by shrill roars from far away. The mountainside was too tall; it blocked all visibility besides above—that charred shroud suffocating over them. The unknown over those mountains proved to be just as exhausting to Ryunosuke as the sprinting.
At the gate between Kakariko Village and Lanayru Road, they’re intercepted by a trio of masked, heavily-armored Sheikah—the Village Elder’s infantry, sent to find Ryunosuke wherever he might’ve been on Mount Lanayru and usher him back to the village as soon as possible. Kakariko had long since been designated as a town of sanctuary and the Castle Town knights had been instructed as such: should anything happen to the capital, civilians were to be evacuated towards Kakariko Village or Fort Hateno due to the way the landscape pushed battle conditions in their favor—natural mountains that bottleneck enemies would prove to be the best defenses an army could hope for.
Kakariko Village is a frantic mess when they arrive. People whiz by as they’re led into the heart of the village—frenzied shouting and crowds so clumsily surging around, Ryunosuke’s not even noticed as they pass, not that he minds. A cacophony of sounds rattle his ears: babies and children crying as they’re rushed into houses; machinery scraping across stone; yells as nearby merchants and travelers are directed away from the main entrance; Cuccos squawking as they fly out of their coops, trying to fly east—anything to escape being trapped here. He watches as a woman struggles to control her dog into their home, the scared thing whining and pulling away, away. Anywhere else.
Doors slam open at one of the pagodas. A woman walks down the stairs with poise and absolute purpose, glittering headpiece like a golden halo reflecting the many lanterns and torches lit about the town. Flowing robes of deep grays and vivid reds trail behind her. One of the sealing spellcasters, no doubt—most likely the priestess Susato once told Ryunosuke about before, blessed with a deep prowess of magical power.
She passes a long line of people handing out weapons and fitting armor. It’s clear, the way the people of Kakariko have embraced their status as a safe haven: they’ve chosen to fight above all. Once, a people living in the shadows; now, a lighthouse shining their beacon for all those who need it. There is no option to run, not now.
The Village Elder greets them at the bottom of her residence’s steps with rapid words of relief and promises that the Sheikah will do everything in their power to support the Royal Family. And when Ryunosuke has to tell her that the pilgrimage was a failure, the way her heavily wrinkled face crumples is obvious.
“What will you do once you reach the castle, then?” she asks, voice thin. Without the sealing powers, what can you contribute? is the implied follow-up.
Ryunosuke pauses, tries to settle himself. “…Anything that I can.” He unhooks the Sheikah Slate from his hip. “Perhaps I don’t have the Goddess Hylia’s blessing, but I have the blessing your people have given us all, long ago.”
She gives him a small, sad smile. Then, she fishes something out of her pouch and presses it into his hand: a cobalt blue ocarina. “Take this with you. Should anything befall you, play this instrument, and one of our soldiers will find you. The ties between the Sheikah and the Triforce of Wisdom run deep, just as music does with us; the sound will carry.”
It’s an odd declaration, surely, and Ryunosuke is dubious, but in a state where a thousands-of-centuries-old demon king can rise and tar the sky, nothing seems truly that far-fetched anymore. “I will. Thank you.”
They continue towards the stables, as the stable hands prepare their horses. Ursavra animatedly speaks to another group of Sheikah a ways away, gesticulating wildly in the air. Demanding information, Ryunosuke surmises.
Words tumble down the communication device from the scouts above: “Castle Town: green, Mabe Village: yellow, Hyrule Garrison: green.” It brings some relief to Ryunosuke to hear the green warning; even under the direct siege of Calamity Stronghart, they’ve been able to hold their own enough to not request reinforcements. He wonders how many monsters have been summoned—how many have been mowed down by the Guardians, already poised to defend. Whatever it is, it seems to be working. Messenger pigeons will arrive in time with more details.
Kazuma’s hand brushes the side of Ryunosuke’s. “Are you alright?” he asks, sidelong.
It’s a ridiculous question—if not only for the fact no one could possibly be “alright” in these circumstances, but also because he is asking it. Kazuma’s the one who’s going to face that thing, after all. Ryunosuke should be asking him, not the other way around.
Ryunosuke wraps his hand around Kazuma’s. “No, of course not,” he murmurs, letting out a coarse, dry laugh. “…Are you?”
Kazuma knits his brow at that, eyes surveying the chaos. “Not as long as we don’t know what’s actually going on.” He nudges his head towards a ladder leading up to scaffolding on the mountainside. It’s an instant agreement to climb up.
“Send a small squadron out to Mabe. Their farmers won’t be able to handle attacks without help. The garrisons will be sending reinforcements, but having a few of our own out there to get a closer look will help us here—” The masked Sheikah’s eyes widen, lifting that thick scar etched across her brow. She drops to a knee immediately—a swift movement. “Your Highness. Champion.” Even Ryunosuke can recognize the ornamentation hanging over her navy suit: a captain of the Sheikah forces.
“We’re looking for more information on what the situation is like currently,” Ryunosuke says as he inches forward. Bunches of glowing, bright blues illuminate the mountaintops—Guardian sentinels activated and ready to neutralize threats from a distance.
Then, he sees it, far enough away that the castle barely stands out against the dark backdrop: an elongated, horned equine swirling around the top of it, a magenta and black mass of smoke and malice that blazes like fire across the sky.
Ryunosuke’s breath dies in his throat before she can answer him, the blood draining from his face. “I-It looks exactly like—”
“The same as at McGilded’s…” Kazuma hisses out.
The Sheikah captain rises, locks her arms behind her back as she walks forward. “We won’t know details until the messenger birds come in, but the fiend’s just been circling for what we can tell. Almost like it’s taunting us—trying to hold the king captive.”
Ryunosuke can’t help the image from his nightmare of his father’s lifeless body draped over the side of his throne flashing in his mind. He tastes iron.
“And the threat?” Kazuma probes.
“Monster hordes, from what we can tell,” she says. “Blue Moblins, Blue Lizalfos, and the lower monsters, all coming from Castle Town.” She pulls out a spyglass and hands it to Ryunosuke, then she directs his view. “Mabe Village is the easiest to make out.”
Indeed, he sees the smoke billow out from the small farming community. Moblins and Bokoblins infest the village, spilling into the north entrance. He can just make out sporadic flashes of Guardian laser fire in the distance.
Ryunosuke lowers the spyglass, handing it back to her. “…But, that doesn’t make much sense, does it? This is a beast that caused a legendary calamity ten-thousand years ago—that had to be beaten using a legion of mechanical weapons, along with sacred power. Surely, flying around the castle and sending these only-slightly-stronger monsters to attack doesn’t fit that image…?”
“Perhaps what Sholmes said was correct, about being atrophied after having been sealed for so long?” Kazuma supplies.
“I suppose…but I don’t like it,” Ryunosuke says. He rubs the back of his head with his hand, still staring at that swirling apparition amongst roiling thunderclouds. “Captain, I’d advise you and your forces not to underestimate it. Maybe it’s weak, or maybe it’s playing some sort of game—lulling us into a false sense of security so it can take advantage, or, or something, I don’t know. I just don’t have a good feeling about this at all.”
“Understood.” The captain nods. A beat, then: “I’m sorry to ask, Your Highness, but were you able to unlock your powers up on Mount Lanayru?”
The words are dry as they come out of Ryunosuke’s mouth: “No.”
If the captain felt any way, Ryunosuke can’t make it out over the stolid expression she wears, utterly unreadable. “Understood. We’ll continue operations as planned, then.”
A jagged bolt of lightning cracks next to the stable, and Ryunosuke jumps out of his skin. When he peers over the edge, he sees Ursavra with her arm still lifted, holding her hand in the aftermath of a snap. “Get your asses back down here!” she yells. “Our horses are ready!”
The fork in the road at Sahasra Slope is where they need to separate.
“Well,” Ursavra says after a particularly long breath, “this is it then, little mouse.” The blue light of the ancient energy-fueled lanterns illuminates the moroseness carved into her face, all knitted brows and pursed lips. She smoothes down the lapels of his coat, runs her hands down his arms. Fretting over him, like she would when he was a child. “I just wish we had more time before we had to say goodbye like this.”
“T-Then, we won’t have to!” Ryunosuke says, forcing the words out of his constricted throat. “We’ll, we’ll defeat it and see each other again soon—not a ‘goodbye,’ but a ‘see you later,’ isn’t that right?” He clutches his hands together in front of his chest.
Something breaks in her expression. A solemn smile, despite it all. The gold of her jewelry glistens against the light. “Yes,” she breathes out. “You’re exactly right about that. There’s that wisdom showing itself again. We’ve come this far, haven’t we?” She leans in with a scheming twinkle in her eyes, saying in a low voice, “Nothing can stop us.”
Ryunosuke gives a nod. It’s just like Ursavra—even in the most desperate of situations, she’s always brought that confidence like an eternal flame, as fiery as her hair. The feeling that nothing could truly ever be impossible. It gives him something infectious, addicting—something quite rare: hope, above all.
She lifts his chin gently. Her words are soft when she speaks, but they’re as definitive as any rallying cry: “Make no mistake: I am so proud of you. If your mother could see you now, she’d—” The words catch in her throat. “She’d marvel at how much you've grown, just like I have. I’ve said it before, but it’s you that is the light Hyrule needs, not some fickle powers from the goddess.”
And it burns when he squeezes his eyes shut and a tear slips down his cheek. His hands wrap around her arm. It sinks down deep—the realness of it all. After so much preparation—after so much time—it almost felt like an abstraction. But here, he sees the cracks in what always seemed like her impenetrable armor, backdropped by that massive gaseous beast circling the castle far away. She’d have to pilot the Divine Beast; Kazuma would have to fight Calamity Stronghart; he would have to find a way to help, all while under the same oppressive, icy gaze that paralyzed him in his vision under the Temporal Timepiece. There’s no denying its factuality, not anymore.
She swipes away the tear with the pad of her thumb as she cradles his face in her hands. “Promise me that you’ll stay safe—that you won’t take any rash risks around that thing.” She pauses. “Su’vona suru vashiru: only the foolhardy refuse to retreat. This is a well-known saying in Gerudo Town; disengaging from a battle is just as viable a strategy as any other. If anything unexpected happens when you face it and you find yourself backed into a corner, promise me you’ll run. The Divine Beasts will be suppressing Calamity Stronghart. We’ll have plenty of time to gather backup to come assist you.”
Ursavra releases him, hands slowly slipping off his face; the cold floods in to fill the space between. She turns around. “That goes double for you, Champion Kazuma. Now don’t look so surprised; you’re just as embroiled in this circle of mine as Ryunosuke is.” She places her hands on her hips. “Hero of Legend or not, you can’t afford to be reckless. I don’t want to have to find out that you’ve been badly hurt after all this, you hear me? You have a great honor in protecting him, so don’t fail to protect yourself, too. You are his sav’voe, after all.”
Beloved. Ryunosuke feels heat flood his cheeks as Kazuma looks at him, expression thoroughly confused and at a loss for words. “W-Wha—Ursavra!” he sputters.
She merely throws her head back and laughs, then pulls Ryunosuke into a tight hug. “Take care of yourself and stay safe. We’ll see each other soon, yeah?”
He clings tightly. “Yes, we will.”
Ryunosuke looks up from the Slate. “…That’s the last of the Endura Carrots.”
“Shit,” Kazuma hisses, and it’s the only response necessary.
They’d only packed a couple, for emergencies. Endura Carrots were high in demand for workers, less so for travelers—it simply wasn’t deemed as a necessity. Those in Kakariko Village were kind enough to give them a few out of their harvest, but with the increased demand, their supply had grown thin.
Ryunosuke strokes Vanilla’s muzzle. Their horses have tolerated the mix of Endura and Swift Carrots fed to them over such a short time well, but even added endurance has its limits—they noticed their horses getting slower with each one, until they were forced to take a break, much to both Kazuma and Ryunosuke’s dismay. Despite that, even as they lie down to rest, the horses still seem energized underneath the momentary fatigue. Ryunosuke’s relieved to see it—they haven’t pushed them too hard, after all.
Their horses and the carrots have done their jobs, at least: what would be an almost-six-hour-long trip to the outskirts of Applean Forest has been cut into a little more than two. Eyes softening with a sigh, Ryunosuke lifts up a chunk of apple, which Vanilla inhales immediately. The reaction is much the same when he gives the other half to Kazuma’s horse, Justice, nosing him for more. He feels compelled to comply, of course, after all they’ve been asked to do.
He settles next to the fire where Kazuma is cooking; Kazuma had dumped a pile of wood out from the Slate to grill up some hastily-made skewers of beef and Stamella Shrooms. Neither of them have been in the mood to eat, but Kazuma insisted—they’d need all the energy they could get for what’s to come.
The monsters were a light occurrence along the way, easily dispatched by a swing of Kazuma’s sword on horseback or a shot of an arrow (which, to both of their surprise and confusion, Ryunosuke was almost more accurate at shooting on horseback than stationary, as nonsensical as it seemed). It matched what the Sheikah captain had reported when she said the monsters were funneling from Castle Town and spreading outwards. They knew the monster encounters would only increase the closer they got.
Calamity Stronghart continues its swirling spiral around the castle. Leisurely, almost, in its slow loop. And perhaps it was taunting them, with the way it seems utterly unaffected by the whole situation.
No matter, Ryunosuke’s eyes can’t leave the sky. A deep, endless black—devoid of more than just its usual nightly fixtures. His stomach churns.
He pulls out the felt mouse from his pocket and starts pulling at its large ears. “Um, Champion Wilson…? Are you there?” He waits a beat, then another, until the silence stretches long enough that it’s clear there’s no response coming.
He pulls the ears again. “Champion Jigoku, do you hear me?” It’s a stretch of time in silence before static noise peals out of the mouse, before ceasing entirely. Puzzled, Ryunosuke tries again, yet silence is the only answer.
Kazuma sits down next to him, setting the plate of skewers between them. “You’re thinking through your face again—what’s wrong?”
“Ah, I…” His fingers wrap around the felt mouse, if only in hopes it’ll coax out a reply. “Well, it’s already a bit past midnight… Champion Wilson should’ve gotten to Vah Ruta a while back, and with Champion Jigoku’s speed, he should’ve already made it to Vah Rudania by now at the very least… We only really know that the monster hordes around here are coming from the castle—are the density of monsters in the other areas truly that bad if it’s taking them this long?”
Kazuma swallows his food, gives a thoughtful look. “And you’ve received no response?” Ryunosuke shakes his head. Kazuma rakes a hand through his hair. “There’s little we can do here except trust that they’ll pilot their Beasts before we get to the castle.”
And it’s the answer he expected, but not the one he wanted. It does little to settle him. “I suppose…”
They eat their skewers, only the pop of the fire and their horses’ soft nickering cutting through the tense, suspended quiet. Occasionally, the rumblings of Guardian laser fire can be heard in the far distance.
It’s quiet—until the ear-splitting screech of birds flying over them eastward, wings beating ferociously, echoes across the still plains. Vanilla and Justice follow suit, whinnying and kicking up thick clouds of dust as Ryunosuke and Kazuma try to control their reins. They can hear the sounds of other animals’ feet further away pounding against the dirt—whatever that chose to stick around before now fleeing in earnest.
When Ryunosuke first sees the black and white and magenta specks floating skyward, he mistakes it for soot flying off the fire and catching an updraft. But the particles become denser, clumping onto themselves like flames of their own licking towards the sky. And the sky itself: it lightens, brightness flooding in in a ruddy hue within an instant. Shadows of clouds surge across the ruby grass, as if time itself has sped up.
Something gleaming cascades above, fiery and resplendent: a blood-red moon a backdrop of Hyrule Castle’s tallest spire. And before Ryunosuke can even form a coherent thought, the ground quakes yet again—stronger, this time. Something explodes a ways off, closer to Castle Town; through the dirt thrown in his face when he falls and the rock raining down from its epicenter, Ryunosuke can barely make out jagged pillars of slate puncturing through earth and air. Calamity Stronghart rears back, letting out an ear splitting bellow as these massive, rocky columns ascend like pistons towards the sky. Magenta bleeds out of their swirling designs.
Ryunosuke hacks out a cough, pushing himself up off from the grass. “What is…?” he mumbles out, gaping at the sight before him. His head spins.
His eyes track blurred movement: Kazuma calming the frantic horses, globs of smoking tar erupting out of Calamity Stronghart in far-flung streaks across Hyrule Field, a large amount of something pouring out of those giant stanchions like heavy rainfall. A hunk of flaming miasma craters on the opposite side of the tree cover. Then, he sees, shimmering into that red sky: yellow flares of smoke. One, two, three, four—all shooting off from different sides of Castle Town and Hyrule Castle.
Ryunosuke’s forcibly lifted off the ground before he can register it all properly. “We have to go now,” Kazuma snarls as he hoists Ryunosuke up to his horse, as if he’s a saddle himself. “Whatever that red moon is, it’s making things worse.” He clicks his tongue, teeth grit, when his gaze lifts to the sky. “If we beat Jigoku and Wilson to the castle—”
Trees snap and crash to the ground. Ryunosuke slips when he tries to get on Vanilla in the scramble, but Kazuma all but shoves him up before climbing onto his own horse. And they’re off. They race through the forest, trees being felled closer and closer to them. Thick, skeletal legs slowly reveal themselves behind the thinning tree line—ivory bones steeped red. With each movement closer, the ground quakes, wood splinters violently.
Ryunosuke chances a look to the side, only to see a colossal, dark eye framed by the remaining forest staring right at him—its glowing slit of a pupil like its own tree of light. He feels his stomach lurch; a panicked noise escapes him. The thing advances with new ferocity, locked in. Ryunosuke screams out, despite himself.
“It-It’s bones?!” Ryunosuke yells with a shrill twang when Kazuma has to yank Vanilla’s reins to right Ryunosuke’s distracted riding.
“Focus,” Kazuma grits out. “Look at that eye—it’s just asking to have an arrow sunk into it, isn’t it?”
Ryunosuke swallows down his fear just enough to fumble the Sheikah Slate off his hip. A Stalnox, it says when he takes a picture—reanimated remains of a Hinox. He activates Stasis.
Without missing a beat, an arrow flies from Kazuma’s bow, then another. Before Ryunosuke can pull his own bow from the Slate, the Stasis breaks and the Stalnox clutches at its inflamed eye, falling on its behind. The land lurches below them. Kazuma leaps off his horse and slashes at the bones, Karuma gleaming under the ruddy moonlight. Thrumming. Ryunosuke can feel her energy even from where he sits.
Kazuma vaults back when bones rattle and creak, and the Stalnox stands at its towering height again. The monster snaps off a piece of its rib cage with a crack so loud, Ryunosuke has to wince, and casually tosses it in its hand, bone clattering against bone. Stasis is still buffering; Ryunosuke nocks an arrow. The string continues to catch the tip of his nose, but the arrow still hits its wide target—like shooting into the ocean: hard to miss. Kazuma continues his assault, cracking phalanges and metatarsals until they shatter under his blade.
Ryunosuke readies the Slate when he hears the sifting of dirt and the jostle of bones and the way the wind grows impossibly still as life is breathed into the lifeless. Vanilla rears back when skeletal forces climb out from the ground below her feet.
Squat and hunched over, the first thought that comes to Ryunosuke’s mind: Bokoblin skeletons. Ryunosuke seizes the Stalnox after pulling his horse away from the emerging monsters, but Kazuma wastes no time culling the bony zombies. It’s easy enough: one swipe of the illuminated sword and their delicate bones collapse like a house of playing cards, splaying out against torn grass.
Ryunosuke releases another arrow into the Stalnox’s eye. There’s only time for a single arrow to pierce it before Stasis breaks, but it seems to be enough—the giant’s eye pops out of its bony socket, bouncing against earth. Kazuma follows Ryunosuke’s call to follow it, and pierces the eyeball as the Stalnox crashes back down, crumbling into black dust and smoke.
The Bokoblin bones continue to rattle, no matter how fragile and scattered they’ve been. One by one, they reform themselves—some running around like headless Cuccos with their own quite literal headless bodies. One swipes at Justice, who kicks with his back hooves directly into the skull, and the thing evaporates into dust. Just like that, and Kazuma is cleaving skeleton skulls into nothing.
There’s sizzling from far away—whizzing noises, followed by a series of loud pop, pops into the air. The scarlet sky is smeared in a grim rainbow of smoky colors: green from the southwest—the two garrisons surrounding the Exchange; yellow from the west—the unprotected clergypersons at the Sage Temple, Ryunosuke figures; deep red bleeding through thick smokestacks of gray at the capital; fluorescent pink staining the airway above Mabe Village, bypassing the red signal entirely—a dire warning of devastation.
Kazuma mounts his horse and they move west. Once the forest parts itself to the thoroughfare of the wide open Romani Plains and Mabe Prairie, Ryunosuke watches as a blindingly blue beam cuts the sky like a starry bridge above—Jigoku and Vah Rudania, finally, judging by the direction.
Ryunosuke’s receiver crackles as Jigoku speaks: “Prince Naruhodo. Come in, Prince Naruhodo!”
He presses the mouse close to his face. “Yes! Hello!”
“I’ve made it,” Jigoku says, before the sound peals in a discordant, staticky screech that makes Ryunosuke recoil. “—many monsters—hard t—had to wait—”
“You’re, you’re breaking up!” Ryunosuke yells into the doll, hoping the voice will carry through it. “I can’t understand—” The line cuts into stark silence.
He pulls the mouse’s ears again after waiting for any follow-up from Jigoku. “Champion Wilson?!” No response, yet again. Worry grows sour in his gut. A single blue beam across the sky.
“Susato!” Kazuma yells into his cat doll. “Are you alright—what’s happening?!”
“We’re, we’re okay!” Susato replies. Flustered. Shaken. “Iris, Father, Grandma, and I are all hiding in Champion Sholmes’s lab…but we think we’ve found a path to escape.” Ryunosuke can hear the way Susato sucks in a shaky breath even across the receiver. Kazuma grips the doll tighter. “Oh, it’s just horrible… I, I don’t know what’s happening outside. The monsters poured in so suddenly after everything was under control and now everyone is trying to evacuate—”
“We’re coming as quick as we can,” Kazuma grits out through clenched teeth. “Head to Kakariko once you get out!”
“There’s monsters all across Hyrule Field—be careful!” Ryunosuke yells across the way.
“W-We have the Guardians from the lab to protect us!” Iris. Her voice is so tinny, it’s fit to break. A loud sniff, then. “E-Eggy can scout for us, too!”
The thought of Iris trapped in that monster-infested den, crying and terrified, makes Ryunosuke’s heart clench—suffocating in his chest. He wants to respond—wants to reassure her that everything will be fine, that they’ll get there soon and it’ll all be over quickly. Make promises he can’t keep. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth.
“Stay safe,” Kazuma murmurs, instead. It’ll have to be enough.
Ryunosuke watches as smoke flows steadily out from Mabe Village ahead. Flames raze the grass—have already eaten away the once lush ranch lands entirely. He can’t even see standing buildings anymore, just an inferno of smoke and fire spiraling skyward. Red beams shoot out from the blaze indiscriminately, explosions following. The char in the air smells rancid.
The sound of rapid movement rasps against stone and dirt beyond the smog, and it’s but a second before a Guardian skitters out of the ashen clouds in front of them, forcing them to halt their horses. But it’s wrong, so very wrong—machinery glinting with a bilious, magenta hue. Movements jerky, erratic—writhing, almost as if fighting itself.
Ryunosuke freezes, dread a stone of ice in his belly. “N-No… It can’t be—” The words scraped raw, strangled.
Malfunctioning, just like in Sholmes’s lab.
A red laser spreads towards him, a discordant beeping accompanying it—one he’s become all too accustomed to over the time spent researching the machines. But the pitch is warbled, grating—some horrid crescendo in his ears. And time slows to nothing.
It takes Kazuma lurching off his horse, glowing blade brilliant enough in the darkness to make Ryunosuke wince from her luster, that his brain clicks back into place. Ryunosuke pulls the reins hard and veers his horse hard to the left, back towards open fields. A shrill beep rings, then a blinding laser cuts just past him. The heat sears him as it passes. The smell of singed hair hits his nose—whether it’s his own or Vanilla’s, he’s not sure.
It’s an evanescent thought, drowned out by the way his heart thuds like war drums in his chest as he navigates away. He abandons his horse in the refuge of the field; the horses will find their way—safer to wait for Kazuma and him to return to them than take them any closer to battle.
By the time he circles back in a run and yanks the Sheikah Slate off his hip, Kazuma’s narrowly dodging another locked-on shot of a laser. Using the opening the Guardian itself has created, he slices through an exposed leg—blade like a hot knife through butter. The machine tilts off-kilter, before attempting to skitter back. Ryunosuke presses Stasis before it can escape, catching it in golden chains. Kazuma’s able to get another leg cleaved off within that time. Showers of sparks cascade down from the stumps of its limbs.
It’s the biggest advantage they have after all this time researching the Guardians: knowledge. And that’s exactly why Ryunosuke flicks through the menus of the Slate. After all, he has the firsthand wisdom of what will reset a malfunctioning Guardian faster and safer than attempting to destroy it completely—
A rock skids underfoot and his hand slips with it. There’s not even time to register what he’s done when a daruma-shaped robot spills out of the Slate and scurries across the grass with a dogged determination, chittering about as he extends his arm aloft, electrifying the blade.
The thing’s fast, much more agile on uneven ground than Ryunosuke ever anticipated; he catches up to the malicious Guardian trying to scuttle away in a flash, weaving through metallic legs with ease. And when Darumy slides under the Guardian, he jams his electric blade in its underside—right at the belly’s vulnerable spot.
The Guardian stutters and stalls, head spinning wildly. The robot tips and falls on its exposed side. The magenta and black coloring in its veins retreats, expelling itself in popping wisps—mist into the air. The light coursing through it darkens completely as it goes silent.
Darumy swivels himself around—first looking at Kazuma mid-flick of his sword, then to Ryunosuke, almost expectantly. Ryunosuke holds up a shaky thumbs up. The top of Darumy’s casing bobs up and down as he lets out an excited jingle. Then, he lifts his sword up to the air yet again and begins to scamper towards the flaming wreckage—
And Kazuma picks the small Guardian up despite his protests. It’s the right thing to do, of course—Ryunosuke registers this immediately as the smolder in the air begins to sting his eyes and catch deeper in his throat. A single Guardian they’re equipped to handle, especially all three of them working in tandem, but if there’s more behind that smoky pall and pyre of destruction…?
Ryunosuke approaches the defunct Guardian, nudges it with his shoe. It’ll take some time, but it will revive itself, clean and flowing orange and blue once again. Missing legs, perhaps, but they’ll take any help they can get.
They can’t linger here for long, he knows this. Mabe Village called for reinforcements early. Unlike Castle Town, they’d be quick to recognize that trying to fight back would be futile with their limited resources. They focused on evacuation, he tells himself; they got everyone out. Repeats it like a benediction in his mind. It’s rubble and soot, it’s rubble and soot. Nothing more left over.
His eyes wander to the large columns cradling the castle like viper’s fangs around a throat. They glow with the same magenta hue as the malfunctioning Guardian.
Kazuma and him recoil low to the ground, arms thrown over the back of their heads like a shield, when a Guardian’s laser detonates something nearby. Debris showers over them. Darumy clatters to the ground, dazed.
Another boom, not directed towards them. Then, another, another. A cacophony of laser fire—bright, blue light zooming across a gray shroud. Mouth agape, Ryunosuke watches when clear air slices through the smog: a singular orange-colored Guardian climbing on wreckage and firing shots as a magenta Guardian approaches from the west, then another from the north, then another, another. Surrounding it as it tries to carve light through its assailants. Far more than the amount of Guardians ever supplied to Mabe Village. Burning with that same ruddy magenta.
They weren’t under any illusion that they’d uncovered all the Guardians—no, every week there’d be reports of one or two popping up at some other excavation site across Hyrule. And they’d amassed a formidable army by now, but it was scarce compared to the images depicted in the texts within the Kakariko Library—of a metal militia the size of Hyrule Field itself. As much as they continued to search, that repository of Guardians evaded them. But if Calamity Stronghart was able to locate them first—
The orange-lit Guardian fights valiantly. But it’s a single automaton versus five others. Red lasers carve into its metal casing, leading to endless explosions of electricity and smoke.
Kazuma hoists Darumy up under his arm, grips Ryunosuke’s hand and yanks him into a run. As they speed back to their horses, Ryunosuke can’t help but stare as sparks fly behind them.
Ryunosuke was right after all: the Guardians are the key to turning the tide of the battle. He just never could predict it would be a question of who would be the one wielding them.
A barrage of smoke signals boom in succession from Hyrule Castle. Pink, pink—the world’s smothered in pink.