"Sir!" The female soldier insisted.
"Fuck!" Egil said aloud. An eighth demon died. His connections were dropping like flies. "Ok, Im going." Where!? He started walking... aimlessly. He sent an order to all the infrastructure clockworks to evacuate their work locations, and stand in the streets.
...a few more steps... no... fuck it, return to base. All of you.
He ran up to the street. Damn! He was on foot. Should I flag down a carriage!? What the hell was he going to do if he even got to just one of the sites?
The people's in the streets were all looking in the direction of the fires. Even if he had a plan for this a carriage was probably out of the question.
...9... 10... 11-12... A year's worth of work, going up in smoke. His contributions: ashes in the wind...
How big is the fire?
...20-21-22... He ran his hands over his scalp in frustration. ...30-31-32...
'Ok...' ...39-40-41... a voice forced its way into his head. ...42-43-44...
The same voice that's chimed up in the numerous situations where all his progress was wiped out. The same one that pleaded with him to stop preparing to fight the previous war, and to take the war to the adversaries.
'...the clockworks are a loss...'
So much time spent, and lost.
'...shut up! Jack is about to go on the attack! You need a plan where this stops happening.' ...the problem was never just about Jack. He was the latest iteration of a long line of self sabotaging summoners.
Egil walked solemnly back to the guild hall. ...100-101-102...
...110... 111... The order to retreat is accomplishing nothing. There were around 300 of Egil's clockworks in the city. Fifty of which supported the city guards. The other 250 were all infrastructure.
He cycles through the clockwork perspectives, accepting of their eventual loss. Was it all happening to fire though?
One clockwork made it to the street, only to face plant on the cobblestone. 'Look at the attacker!' He ordered. It only confirmed the obvious: packs of those spindly demons with bloody rags one their heads were destroying the clockworks not in the fires.
He fucked me. He wanted me gone, I 'somehow resisted,' and he fucked me. He didn't just fuck me, he did it in broad daylight. A year's worth of progress... 240... 241... ...gone.
The magic 250 hit well before Egil made it back to the guild hall. Upon passing through its entrance, he already felt emotionally exhausted.
The spindly little monsters apparently started ambushing the clockworks with the soldiers as well. The soldiers cut down a few of Jack's minions, but they just kept coming. The other soldier groups witnessing the attacks, distanced themselves from their respective demon assistants, and the spindly things made short work of the machines, and departed. Not a single human soldier harmed.
That's it. He took everything.
"What the actual fuck!?" Egil heard Anya scream within the halls.
"The deaths of your demons were necessary to get the clockwork threat under control!" That would be Jack. The twitchy... it doesn't matter. He's present. That's about it.
What threat?
Upon seeing Egil... "The overseer wants to see you... NOW!" Jack shouted.
Egil could barely stay awake. He needed a place to recharge, and figure things out. Betrayed... again... and again... and again...
