Gun of Ashes

In that moment, the Black Angel folded its wings, resembling the descending sword of Damocles, with countless blades ferociously striking down, exerting with full force to the limit. Scarlet mist spurted out from the gaps along with the blood, driven by the kinetic energy from its descent, creating the Black Angel’s ultimate blow.

Cold metal tore into lines of death, burning red from the high-speed friction, and along with it, the external armor that was being cut was also glowing red.

Unaware of how many wings shattered, the arm that swung twisted as if it were fractured, accompanied by a large gush of blood flowing from within.

In the face of life and death, everything seemed to slow down; Night Owl could see the fragments of bloody iron and sparks scattered in the air, and he could also see the eerie entity, as if it came chasing out of a nightmare, just within reach.

The twisted arm was entangled with growing flesh, making a chilling sound as muscles pulled against broken bones or something metallic, forcibly setting it straight.

Frightening frenzy unleashed; this was the madness of the Black Angel, whose original target was the Sword Dancer. Night Owl quickly raised the Electric Spear Gun, and at this range, the hit rate greatly increased, but the Black Angel was far quicker, slicing the weapon into two with its sharp Iron Feathers as even more intensive attacks rained down.

With the chest armor gone, the Sword Dancer could only raise another hand to protect its chest, while clutching the Hot Cutting Sword with the other hand. Yet before it could swing and generate heat, the swift Iron Feather accurately hit the Sword Dancer’s wrist.

Its entire body was covered in sturdy armor, and even the Black Angel’s full force only destroyed one piece, but to ensure flexibility, the wrist was protected by only standard armor. It was twisted from a heavy blow, and the sword it just gripped was snatched by the Black Angel and then driven into the gaps of the armor.

The movements were fluid, as if long planned, and this was not the end. The Black Angel tugged forcefully; although the frontal defense of the armor was strong enough, it ultimately relied on the structure attached to the First Generation Armor. With its exertion and frenzied pulling, the Sword Dancer couldn’t resist, only able to watch as the Black Angel ripped piece after piece of steel from its body.

The Sword Dancer gave it their all, but it could only cling tightly to its chest, forcefully guarding the cockpit. It had already lost. When the Black Angel descended from the sky and cut through the first armor, it also destroyed the last armor that could effectively stop it, and the defeat was already sealed.

The pieces of armor tightly connected were extremely tough, but when breached, they could be penetrated. Night Owl’s mind went blank; everything he did was merely delaying inevitable death.

The ebony feathers swung like claws, leaving sharp arcs in the air, crashing down on the Sword Dancer’s shell like a downpour. Amidst the dense scraping sounds, the wounds under the frenzied claws were repeatedly torn open, expanding until all the encased cables and intricate internal machinery were fully exposed.

With a grim smile, the Black Angel seemed to open its mouth in a trance; the grotesque, twisted body was slowly executing the Steel Body.

The fear of death finally devoured sanity. Night Owl nearly frantically operated every reachable button and lever, moving his body with all his strength, but the Sword Dancer was unable to respond to his commands.

Sharp steel feathers pierced inside, lacerating Night Owl’s waist and abdomen, and as they withdrew, blood mixed with oil, broken gears, and cables were extracted from the Sword Dancer’s body like innards.

The external armor was now useless, and sharp claws easily peeled it away from the armor. The once bulky Sword Dancer gradually became emaciated, like a colossal figure surrounded by wolves, deprived of all its power, helplessly watching as it was devoured piece by piece until dead.

Armor, machinery, cables, even an entire arm were brutally ripped away by the Black Angel, along with most of the body. From the shattered gaps, Night Owl could be seen within, tortured by the Black Angel like a ghoul tormenting this not-yet-dead Knight, until it wrenched the nearly stalled steam engine completely out, tossing it aside like discarded machinery.

Deprived of power, the Sword Dancer was utterly dead, and Night Owl was trapped in this graveyard of steel. He had no more sanity to ponder these matters, only using the semi-destroyed Face Armor to gaze up at the Demon perched on the corpse.

It started to rain, red rain. Along with it, red mist also spread, slowly seeping into this graveyard of steel, enveloping Night Owl.

Only then did Night Owl truly feel the gap between the two generations of armor. It could be said that the fully armed Sword Dancer was already approaching the limits of what the Third Generation Armor could achieve, while the First Generation Armor... it seemed limitless, or most notably, when it reached its limit, it was a sight the Purification Mechanism also didn’t want to see.

The sharp Iron Feathers descended slowly, only requiring a slight approach to easily kill Night Owl. He stared blankly at the deadly steel until the Iron Feather stopped. Following this, the silver-white rivets on the Restraint Device retracted one by one, and the Black Angel, radiating frenzy and doom, became as still as a statue.

Flesh pulling against steel, they split open one by one, extending from the chest to the abdomen, like an open bloody maw. The Geiger index began to decrease, with scarlet lights replaced by a glowing green.

A man struggled to climb out from this nest of flesh, with sticky flesh still connecting to him, which he quickly tore apart, though with every strip torn, there was a strange feeling of detachment as if some limb were being taken away. Blood surged from the cockpit, dripping onto Night Owl’s face.

With clear gray-blue eyes, Lorenzo looked at him, then at the armor beaten into scrap metal. After thinking for a long time, he asked.

”Hmm... Can you climb out on your own?”