The Traitor's Disciple (11)

‘…Master?’

A boy trailed off, his voice trembling.

Before his eyes lay the master he revered above all others.

But was it really right to call ‘that’ his master?

The ‘puppet’ lying before him, resembling his master… had taken a form that was almost impossible to call human.

His master’s body should have been split in half at the torso, exposing a shattered spine and ribs and creating a scene of unspeakable horror, with entrails scattered in every direction. But what showed through the gaping wound wasn’t hot, pulsing blood and flesh… It was a collection of large and small mechanical parts, black, cold, and inorganic.

Some were naturally small, like gears and screws. Others were large, intricate machines so complex and precise that it was hard to tell how they even worked. And some of the larger components had been smashed to pieces, reduced to fragments of all sizes.

‘…What happened?’

Just then, the master’s voice rang out behind the boy.

The boy’s face turned deathly pale. His blue-tinged lips trembled as he forced his stiff neck to turn around, like a rusted mechanical device that wouldn’t move...