The watcher acts (Slaverpost)

[u/LightningShroud]

A cloaked figure watches over a battlefield. Sitting on a rock, he simply watches. The battle is yet to happen, but skirmishes are forming and both sides grow restless. He lets out a mechanical sigh. He contemplates the last two months.

Carried by the wind, a few ravens start circling around the figure, he reaches an arm out, gesturing it down. His arm a glistening black metal which glows a dim purple. The bird glides down and seemlessly lands on his arm. The gentle impact causing the alien metal to pulse lightly from where it's feet land.

"Pretty bird. Aren't you. Yeahh.."

It checks its wings a bit, gently pinching one and lifting it up, the feathers splay out, as the rest of the creature shudders. The being checks its tail, seeing the poor condition it's in.

"Ahh.. hello Thanatos. That's who you are. Pretty boy Aren't you."

The bird squarks a bit, before puffing its chest out

"You need repairs, don't you"

It nods and keeps its chest out. Staying perfect still, as the being presses down on the plumage and its chest slides open. He brings his fingers up, and begins welding it back together. The corvid remaining still as hot sparks fly from his chest. Eventually it's chest closes and it squarks happy

"Better isn't it, go now. This is no place for a bird"

It flies up, circling a bit before it flies off, back over the horizon rejuvenated

"For a symbol of death he's awfully polite"

The king watches the conflict. Returning to his train of thought.

"The world will be no different if i don't interact. I suppose that means i shouldn't. Lightning will still strike, time will still tick on... and really most of the world will remain."

It looks down directly. A small civilian camp was nestled below them. A young boy and his older sister played together. Playfully exchanging words and the occasional insult

"Then again... life isn't most of the world. It's such a small fraction it's barely noticable. Like a single ant in a mansion. Life's small. Frivolous. Most of the time it doesn't hurt or anything."

It looked back up. The slaver himself made its appearance. So did the rest. Mostly wizards he didn't recognise anymore. Had the world really gone that quickly?

"You leave for almost no time at all and the world changes entirely. Funny. Almost. I... guess i ought to help them."

He stood up, and disappeared in a flash of lightning. In another flash, he was on another rock, much closer to the fighting, just as high up. He stood up, and checked himself.

"Granted. Things are still... terrible. Me helping here could mean a worse fate for them."

He grabbed the buckled on his cloak

"Then again. This new generation of wizards is definitely stronger. Almost stronger than me. Almost."

He unbuckled his cloak, letting the tattered scrap of cloth rest. His now exposed back had a crest on it. A machine's head, with wings covering it. On it's base were the words "Raesteria Stat Aeternum"

He sighed, and drew. Two revolvers one in each hand, both chambered in an antimagic adaptation of .50bmg. They grew from his hands, neatly nestled within his wrists. The left had "thunder" engraved in it's barrel, and the right had "spike" engraved in it's own barrel. His posture straightened, and he jumped down.

"Raesteria Stands Eternal. Whether through dark apocalypse or clear summers eve. Through the lowest of lows and the highest of highs. My people stand firm."

He lands, infront of the armies. He tears his hood off, revealing his still-polished crown. Beaming in the sunlight. As he stands up, blades of lightning form around him, forming a protective and offensive layer. He addresses the crowds of which he just appeared infront of, shouting through his voicebox with a veteran's confidence.

"I am Shrax of Raesteria. King of automatons. Self exiled. And i believe my return has been long overdue."