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Chapter Text

          🎵  Happy trails, reader… 

… and welcome! 💛🎵

    [VOICE] >>  Let us begin…

The wind whipped at her face in a deafening roar, like a frenzied herd of Tramplers. She could feel the sand crunching under each beat of the machine’s wings.

[VOICE] >>  It’s okay… Just a few more minutes and we’ll be out of here.

[FLUTE] >>  The throbbing pain in her side made her nauseous; thoughts swirled in her head, painting a hazy picture she desperately clung to, fighting to stay afloat.

[READY?] 🥁 >>   Elisabet… I have to succeed…

[GO!] 🏃‍➡️ >>  Hold on. Her only goal now.

Hot, sticky blood flowed beneath her armor, where the Slaughterspine’s blade had pierced her, the ultimate misfortune after a never-ending battle.

The countless successive waves of machines had eventually depleted her resources, and she knew her time was running out.

[VOICE] >>   C'mon, hang on... You can't fail, you HAVE to warn them.

The Sunwing made a turn, slightly pulling her out of her torpor; the now-cleared horizon confirmed that she was flying in the right direction. Soon, Chainscrape, and Carja territory.

      [VOICE] >>    Faster…

[FLUTE] >> Her vision gradually blurred, her temples pounding with a dull pulse as she gained altitude.

Wiping away the sweat mixed with dust and blood that stained her face, she realized with horror that her body was starting to abandon her under the insidious effects of poison.

            [CELLO] >>   Faster…

Her Focus pinged.

She half-opened her eyes, only to squeeze them shut immediately, blinded by a dazzling light.

Forcing them open again, she made out below her the flaming silhouette of characteristic rocky mountains, bathed in the sun’s last rays.

The glow of the sunset reflected off the water in a million sparkling stars she saw dancing before her eyes, like so many shards of fire and metal, as she once again sank into the shadows.

[VOICE]

[GONG] >>  Fight like you can win…

[CRESCENDO...]

[BOOM]💥 >> She was brutally jolted awake, a violent shudder rocking the machine.

Disoriented, she felt her stomach lurch as gravity pulled her downwards at a dizzying speed.

A searing pain exploded throughout her entire body; her bones vibrated under the tearing screech of steel.

Everything around her was chaos—stone-cold darkness, a piercing hiss stabbing her eardrums, and the metallic taste of blood.

          No…

[VOICE] >> Aloy tried to breathe, but her body wouldn’t respond, as if pinned down to the ground by the impact.

[MISSION COMPLETE 👏🦾 +1 skill point]

Chapter Text

Aloy was floating in the void, caught in an infinite fall toward the abyss of a bottomless lake.

The humming beat of drums seemed to call to her, carried on the breeze caressing the curves of the Embrace.

She took a deep breath, the pungent, familiar scent of medicinal herbs filling her lungs, and watched as the shadows passing before her eyes slowly faded away.

An indistinct voice echoed in her ear like a murmur; the words were jumbled, devoid of meaning.

Aloy tried to move, but her numb body remained deaf to her commands.

She felt a scorching burn languidly devouring her ribs, and her temples pulsing under the constant hammering of a distant forge.

Beneath her heavy eyelids, she heard the unknown voice again.

“Don’t move. You’re seriously injured and have lost a lot of blood, you need rest.”

Aloy cracked open her eyes: a figure was standing beside her, silhouetted against the flickering glow of a dim light.

Gradually, the blurry shape gave way to the face of an old man with a graying beard; he was observing her with a piercing gaze over minuscule spectacles, a candle’s glimmer reflecting in their lenses.

He spoke softly, almost whispering.

“You are safe, in the Palace of the Sun. I am Rahiv, personal healer to His Luminance. He has entrusted me with your care.”

A stifling wave of heat suddenly washed over Aloy, sending chills through her body.

Her foggy mind spun with thoughts, clouded and confused.

      Meridian.

                  Erend.

                               The rebels.

                                                                         Hurry.

Her throat dry, she strained to sit up, but to no avail; all that came out of her sticky mouth was a rough, halting moan.

With a deft movement, Rahiv placed a hand on her shoulder, holding her gently but firmly.

“You must remain lying down, Savior,” he murmured. “The fever is still too severe. This potion will ease your pain,” he added, indicating a steaming cup in his other hand, which exuded a strong, hypnotic essence.

“No…”

            There’s no time.

Aloy felt a twinge of panic starting to creep in. In a desperate effort, she locked eyes with the healer and stammered in a guttural voice:

“A threat… Avad… he must know…”

Her head was spinning.

It was already too late.

Rahiv stared intently at her, his forehead furrowed. For a moment, the shiny glint dancing beneath the old man’s eyes felt like the only presence breathing in the stifling, thick air.

                    Hurry.

“Very well,” he said at last, his gaze unwavering. “I will notify His Radiance, but you need to calm down. Please stay still. Your life depends on it,” he added gently as he rose to his feet.

Her heart pounding, Aloy watched him disappear, the soft sound of his footsteps slowly fading into a suffocating silence.

Ice-cold sweat was dripping down her face and neck. Gasping for air, she tried to move once more, but despite her efforts, felt her body sinking deeper into the darkness.

Chapter Text

Muffled noises reached her through a thick haze—distant and distorted.

Navigating within the gloom, Aloy focused on those sounds.

They were already getting closer, clearer; as they became more distinct, she made out a familiar voice that seemed to be guiding her through the fog.

She strained her ears, forging a path amidst the veil that shrouded her senses.

“... such risks without absolute necessity. Marad was right, as always. By the Sun… What are her chances now?”

“I do not know, Your Radiance… She's strong; but this unknown poison is tenacious, and the effects of the plants remain ephemeral.”

Her sensations were gradually returning: persistent herbal scents, a sharp pain in her side, the dampness of fabric clinging to her skin.

Opening her eyes, Aloy saw the healer standing a few feet away, his face half-illuminated. Behind him in the shadows loomed the vague outline of a more discreet figure.

“You have been watching night and day, you also need rest, my friend. Notify Marad, and retire to sleep until morning. Come back once you are rested.”

The old man bowed slightly, then disappeared into the darkness.

Aloy felt her pulse quickening.

She abruptly caught her breath—a weak sound escaped her painful throat.

“Avad…”

Gathering her strength, she painfully lifted herself up; the sharp blade that pierced her hip elicited a grimace.

The Carja king’s silhouette emerged from the murk, and shadows suddenly came to life, dancing as he moved, accompanied by the soft rustle of cloth.

“Aloy!”

She saw Avad approach cautiously, then hesitate for a second. The golden light now revealed his haggard features, disheveled hair, an expression of deep concentration emanating from his gaze.

“Rahiv came to me, saying you were awake and wanted to see me,” he began, his voice tinged with worry. “How are you f–”

“Later. Listen…”

Aloy knew she had to act quickly: countless lives were at stake, and she could feel the fever rapidly consuming her strength. Ignoring the pounding of blood against her temples, she closed her eyes and took a steadying breath.

“Meridian is in danger, and so are you. Itamen as well… The festival… a trap…”

Her breathing was ragged.

She struggled to maintain control, feeling Avad’s serious gaze weighing on her—he looked as if drinking in her every word, motionless in the flickering light.

“There’s an Oseram faction to the West… They call themselves… ‘Sons of Prometheus’,” she pressed on, panting. “They have machines… hundreds… The Embassy… it was just the beginning…”

Avad was staring at her, eyebrows furrowed. His anxiety was palpable.

“Marad and I suspected that your… sudden arrival last night was likely to conceal something grave,” he said gently. “Do you know anything else that would help us prepare?”

“Last night.”

Precious time was slipping through her fingers.

Aloy could hear the thoughts racing in her already blazing mind, images flashing by at breakneck speed.

They’re here.

Suddenly jolted upright, she sat up with a painful groan—instinctively pushing away Avad’s gesture—and continued:

“The message I found… spoke of an attack. Something about… a celebration, a ‘bloody day’…”

The king took a step back. Terror was now etched on his face.

“By the Sun…”

“Erend found… near the Free Heap,” Aloy went on. “Spies… here in Meridian…”

Her chest burned; wheezing, she slumped slightly, bracing herself on her elbow.

Avad was still watching her with a penetrating gaze, his jaw clenched. She could almost hear the gears turning at full speed.

“This is what I feared,” he finally murmured. “Marad doesn’t believe in coincidences… and measures were taken immediately after your arrival to increase surveillance and secure access to the city.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing before he resumed.

“The Radiant Day is one of our most sacred rituals,” he said, nervously running a hand through his hair. “It will take place at the end of the Festival, in four days.”

With a vacant look, he brought his hand to his forehead and exhaled deeply.

“An attack during the ceremony would be… a massacre.”

The oppressive heat made her dizzy.

Aloy struggled against exhaustion, her sweat-drenched body shaking uncontrollably.

Out of strength, she felt her arm give way beneath her and collapsed, her head softly hitting a damp, fluffy surface.

She sensed Avad rush to her side, almost in a panic.

“Sun and Shadow, Aloy!”

He reached out to her, then vanished for an instant in a bright flash. Blinded, fumbling for her bearings, Aloy clung to the sound of his voice, which betrayed a growing sense of anguish.

“The information you’ve just given me is crucial,” he said. “Let us take over for now. You must rest, please… We cannot lose you,” he added, looking away, reaching for the cup placed next to her. “Rahiv thinks this drink will help you recover.”

The familiar brown smell reached her nostrils again—Aloy turned her head away.

I know what that is… and it’s a no.

She refused to give in. Nothing justified such a waste of time.

Casting Avad a feverish glance, she tried to speak, but no sound came out of her dry mouth. The Sun-King’s face was strained, his features frozen in a look of compassion mixed with bewilderment.

“I– I imagine… you can decide for yourself,” he stumbled, putting down the potion. “I will see Marad immediately to discuss the most urgent tasks. We must act quickly… and in absolute secrecy. But please,” he implored, “rest. Rahiv will let me know when you wake up.”

The light fluttered, sending a subtle breeze to caress her scorching face.

Aloy felt her strength leaving her.

With a slight spasm, she sank down, the movement of her chest slowly calming; her head tilted gently to the side.

Compressed by the vise gripping her skull, her vision faded as her inert limbs relentlessly dragged her toward sleep.

Overwhelmed, she closed her eyes, Avad’s distant and muffled voice faintly echoing before it disappeared.

Chapter Text

Aloy felt the heat pressing against her skin, lulled by the echo of colorful voices rising in melodic invocation.

A muted light brushed her eyelids; she slowly opened her eyes.

Sunlight filtered through thick crimson curtains, tracing the contours of a room in an intimate atmosphere—the walls were cluttered with strange objects and hastily rolled-up scrolls.

Rahiv sat a little farther away at a finely carved wooden table, piled high with countless vessels of various sizes and shapes, hiding mysterious contents.

He seemed busy, his hands playing with grace and precision as the faint crackle of dried herbs merged with the scent of burnt candles.

My Focus… GAIA.

Aloy propped herself up: her aching side protested vigorously. The sense of dizziness lingered with every movement.

Gritting her teeth, she managed to sit up on the edge of the bed; as she took a few seconds to regain her balance, she heard the healer approach with steady steps.

“Easy, Savior…” he said, a faint smile tugging at his voice. “Your wound could reopen; it’s still too soon for you to get up.”

“Just… Aloy is fine. Rahiv, right?”

She looked up at him, and he nodded—his face suddenly lighting up with a bright, warm grin.

“You… healed me. Thank you,” she murmured, her own voice muffled by the persistent throbbing in her temples.

“His Luminance will be delighted to hear of your waking. The ointment is ready, I will be back soon… Promise me you’ll stay still,” he added, throwing her a mischievous glance over his glasses. “You need rest.”

Aloy watched him slip out quietly.

Scanning the room, she spotted her Focus lying on a small table about ten feet away, with her armor and part of her gear resting in the shadows nearby.

She stood up carefully, letting out a groan, and brought her hand to her side: the tender stitches pulsed beneath her still-quivering fingers.

Nice work… Let’s hope it holds.

Staggering toward her destination, she welcomed the touch of metal against her skin like a breath of fresh air.

“Beta?”

An anxious voice responded, frantic:

“Aloy! We were worried… Where are you? Is everything okay?”

“I was… delayed,” Aloy muttered with a sigh. “But I’m fine. Anything new on your side?”

“Yes.” Beta replied quickly. “Your idea to use MINERVA to isolate the pulse was good, but the process is complex and will require a lot of equipment. You’ll have to assemble the device on-site, and the chances of success are very low…”

Aloy’s mind was racing, thoughts swirling wildly.

“And… your other project?”

“I think… it’s gonna work: I managed to design a sealed capsule using conductive alloys for shielding—combined with graphene nanofibers and high-frequency plasmonic biosensors you should be able to find on…”

“Wow, Beta… slow down,” Aloy pleaded. “Listen, I had… uh, a little hiccup with the Sunwing,” she added, lowering her voice. “The journey might take a bit longer. Any news from Erend? He must have…”

She abruptly froze—someone was knocking on the door.

“Gotta go,” she whispered. “Well done… Call you back soon.”

“OK… Good luck, Aloy.”

Chapter Text

The small wooden door eased open slowly with a faint creak—light flooded the room, revealing a familiar figure.

“I knew you wouldn’t let them knock you out, little huntress.”

The creak sounded again, accompanied by a soft metallic tinkling.

“Vanasha!”

Aloy’s impulsive move sent a sharp jolt through her hip, making her still-reluctant legs waver.

Holding back a curse, she instinctively placed a hand on cool stone to steady herself.

The Carja spy approached with a light step—the vibrant colors of her clothes striking a dramatic contrast against the room’s stark austerity.

She paused a few steps away from Aloy and turned a sparkling gaze on her:

“ ‘Blameless’ sends me to do his job for him, as usual,” she began in a mockingly casual tone. “The Sun-King and his gang are on edge since you showed up in the middle of the night on a giant Glinthawk. In fact,” she added with a sly grin, “excellent choice. Even for the Savior of Meridian, a Thunderjaw would’ve been just a bit… over-the-top.”

Aloy rolled her eyes, half-amused, half-irritated.

Her thoughts carried on their frenzied waltz, and she felt the throbbing in her side steadily growing more intense.

“That was… not planned,” she protested gently. “Do you know if it’s still working? Maybe I can fix it.”

Vanasha shrugged.

“Huh. Marad had the thing removed to avoid mass panic of course, but I don’t think it’s working anymore,” she replied nonchalantly. “Anyway, crashing onto a Palace terrace might not have been the optimal strategy to drop by and say hello, redhead…”

No more Sunwing…

You’ll have to hurry.

Her temples were hammering out a relentless beat, and Aloy felt the stitches pulling dangerously at her inflamed skin; she faltered slightly, her shaky legs threatening to give way.

Vanasha eyed her with a stern look, her hands planted defiantly on her hips.

“Wait a second, aren’t you supposed to be lying down? Rahiv’s gonna lecture me if you do something stupid.”

“Alright, alright…” Aloy grumbled, “I’ll sit, okay? Erend spoke of a caravan… coming from Free Heap,” she went on as she hobbled back to the bed. “They must already be here… maybe merchants, or something like that.”

Her arms folded, Vanasha carelessly propped herself against the healer’s desk.

“If they got through the gate checks... someone must have vouched for them,” she mused, a finger resting thoughtfully on her chin.

Aloy sat down awkwardly, the waves of pain gradually becoming more bearable.

“He’s on his way,” she went on. “He should be here soon… uh, if all goes well.”

“Ha! Good, we need him!” Vanasha exclaimed. “Uthid took command in his absence, and let me tell you… it’s something else ,” she teased with a dismissive gesture.

Vanasha’s voice harmonized with the thoughts still running in the background. Aloy scratched her head nervously in an attempt to soothe her impatience—she felt her friend lean toward her:

“You know what? A bath wouldn’t hurt you, little huntress… I’ll take care of the phony donut sellers. And between you and me,” she added with a playful glint, “if they’re true Oseram… they shouldn’t be too hard to find.”

Aloy gave a faint grin as Vanasha rose, moving away in a graceful swirl of silks and jewelry.

“Look, they even found you something nice to wear,” she went on, gesturing at a stack of neatly-folded colorful fabrics placed by the window—Aloy immediately recognized the vibrant hues of traditional Carja attire. “Marad will see you later,” Vanasha concluded as she stepped out, “just before the Evening prayer. Well… if they manage to squeeze you in between two whining nobles, that is,” she smirked and closed the door smoothly behind her.

Aloy idly ran a hand across her brow.

Her pounding head itched again, sand and sweat tangled in her hair; the sight of dried blood still clinging to her skin in places elicited a sigh.

Gathering her thoughts, she glanced at her gear stored in the corner: her Nora Thunder outfit looked damaged, with metal plates visibly torn off, and some of her weapons appeared broken—or even missing.

She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath before rising back to her feet.

Chapter Text

The festival was in full swing, the City of the Sun buzzing with life.

Aloy embraced the quiet with relief as she approached the passage leading to the royal palace.

Though painful, the bath and walk had done her some good; her wound flared with every step, yet she was surprised to find herself appreciating the lightness of the Silks.

Not so bad, after all. It’s… comfortable.

Tense, she ignored the guards’ salute. Her thoughts swirled as she reached the end of the path, ascending the steps toward the grand balcony.

Arriving at their level, she spotted Marad standing with Avad and Uthid, while Vanasha lingered slightly behind.

Catching Marad’s sharp eye, she noticed his lips murmur something that she thought resembled her name; at a gesture from the king, Uthid and Vanasha bowed respectfully—the latter throwing a suggestive wink in Aloy’s direction—before walking away.

Avad turned to her, a sparkling gaze lighting up his tired face.

He was back in his official attire, the imposing, intricate metal-inlaid crown seeming to weigh heavily on his shoulders.

“Aloy! Praise the Sun, you’re well again... Please,” he said, gracefully gesturing toward a bench adorned with vivid cushions, “have a seat. We were just discussing the cortege route… Marad, tell her.”

“In Carja rites, the Festival of the Harvest Solstice concludes with a grand procession from the Temple to the Spire, where we honor the Sun in a celebration we call ‘Radiant Day’,” Marad began in his smooth, diplomatic tone.

Casting a furtive glance around, he slightly lowered his voice.

“Since your arrival, we’ve naturally reconsidered the arrangements,” he went on, his gaze turning sly, “the Spire being a strategic position with excellent visibility, but potentially risky: a massive crowd gathered in one place, no possibility of retreat. Shifting the event to a safer location, within Meridian’s walls, would disrupt their plans, giving us a relative element of surprise, as well as better defensive options…”

“No,” Aloy cut him off abruptly. “You need to stick to the usual schedule. Act as if nothing’s changed, and… watch closely.”

Avad and Marad exchanged puzzled looks.

“You mentioned hundreds of machines…” Avad murmured, his expression somber. “If an attack were to happen during the procession, or the ceremony itself, thousands of innocent lives would be at risk… My responsibility is to protect my people,” he added with a sigh, nodding resolutely, “at all costs.”

“Avad, they want to eliminate you and your family,” Aloy replied, “and end the Sundom’s supremacy—as if that hadn’t already been tried before. Gathering everyone at the Spire will make it easier to protect you. And if they manage to get that far, well… even better,” she added, narrowing her eyes.

She caught her breath, the burning sensation in her aching hip intensifying. Both men stared at her, looking bemused.

“I think I can neutralize their machines,” she continued. “But for that… There’s something I need to do first. Erend will be here tomorrow with reinforcements. I spoke to him earlier.”

“Aloy’s presence in the city has drawn significant attention, Your Radiance,” Marad observed. “Her participation in the festivities would make the illusion all the more convincing… Olin Delverson’s apartments have changed ownership,” he added, turning to her, “thus, a room has been arranged for you in the southern wing, should you wish.”

Of course.

Aloy was growing impatient; minutes were crawling by, and she was keenly aware of the many challenges that lay ahead.

She watched as Avad dismissed his advisor, then rose—elegantly gesturing for her to follow, and fell into step behind him.

“This… thing you must do,” he began tentatively, “is it far from Meridian?”

Aloy took a deep breath. Time was short, and detailed explanations unnecessary.

“I… have to go north,” she replied. “There are… ancient artifacts there, ones I need for the plan to work.”

A resonant silence settled as they approached the balustrade; Avad came to a halt, his gaze held on the horizon. The warm hues of the mountains were already setting the sky ablaze, and Meridian’s rooftops sparkled in the first lights of dusk.

“I know you have to leave,” he said in a melancholic tone, “but Aloy, you’re injured. You’re in no condition to travel, let alone fight…”

“Avad,” she interrupted, waving a hand, “I’m fine. It’s… your people you need to worry about. The Sons of Prometheus have access to technology—they have Focuses,” she corrected, pointing to her temple.

Avad stared at her, his expression dark; she averted her gaze, stepping toward the staircase.

“They mustn't know we’re watching them,” she added softly. “If you find out who let them into the city, do not intervene. Erend will know how to trace them back.”

Chapter Text

The steady hammering of metal against rock echoed under a pale moon, carried by the cool night air.

Her Tracker’s outfit allowed her to move more freely, but the friction and vibrations made her wound moan with every step of the Strider.

Time was of the essence, and Aloy felt a growing urgency swelling in her chest, the invigorating speed tingling her face.

At least I was able to get some gear .

Her reception in Meridian had been more than warm, and her brief stay in the city had proven beneficial: she had retrieved a Ropecaster—graciously offered by Aidaba—and a Sharpshot bow to replace her own.

Though disappointed by Talanah’s absence, she could clearly see the impact her friend had left on the Hunter’s Lodge.

Focus.

To her right loomed the silhouette of an old bandit camp she had once returned to its prisoners; peering deeper into the darkness, she spotted shifting lights.

Machines.

She straightened, collecting her mount’s stride, and the pounding rhythm of metallic hooves slowed until it finally stopped.

The familiar click revealed gleaming shapes following an unrelenting, perfectly timed choreography.

Two Behemoths, a Ravager… some Longlegs… Shellwalkers… another Ravager.

HEPHAESTUS is going totally nuts.

Her feet landed softly on the ground.

She crouched down and moved silently, skirting the metallic ballet as she melted into the shadows.

Almost there…

Fresh snow whispered under her cautious steps as she neared her goal—when her Focus picked it up.

An Apex Thunderjaw stood before her, blocking access to the ruins. Aloy sighed.

“Okay, it’s gonna be hard to get past you unnoticed,” she muttered, thinking through her strategy.

You’ll have to be quick.

She launched herself toward the machine, targets lighting up before her eyes, and attacked.

With a swift motion, she loosed an arrow, and a deep rumble followed, punctuated by a loud detonation. Repeating the action, she watched with satisfaction as the second disc-launcher broke loose and crashed to the ground. A third projectile struck the enemy, and Aloy immediately got moving again.

The Thunderjaw—now stripped of its radar—charged at her brutally with a feral roar; dropping into a slide, she saw the ominous red glow pass above her as she switched weapons, the ground trembling with a deafening crash.

A promising hiss told her she had hit her mark.

Narrowly dodging a deadly burst, she sprinted a few more strides before turning back, dazzled by the burst of blue light.

The colossus was now pinned to the ground, emitting a harsh sizzle, and Aloy seized her chance.

She quickly notched a Tearblast arrow, followed by a second, then a third, and fired: the sheer force of the impact tore both cannons off the mechanical jaw in a cascade of sparks.

Almost done…

The Sun Scourge hissed, unleashing an immense blaze that started devouring metal, sending up thick, acrid smoke. The machine thrashed frantically, lighting up the night sky like a gigantic torch.

Dodging the dangerous golden beams lancing toward her, Aloy repositioned herself. She drew her bow, took aim at the fiery core glowing within the flames, and delivered the killing blow.

The Thunderjaw collapsed slowly with a wrenching screech, the shockwave vibrating through her weary legs—the carcass was still smoldering in the darkness when she heard it.

… or not?!

The sky crackled with electricity, and Aloy had no time to catch her breath; with a grunt, she started running again, bracing herself for the storm she knew was coming.

Touching her temple, she spotted the Stormbird diving straight at her, its robotic eyes lit with scarlet fury.

All this way just to end up in the Arena…

A piercing shriek tore the air; Aloy was ready. She threw herself to the side—ignoring her hip’s pleas, and landed in a roll as a blinding bolt struck the very spot she had just left.

Springing to her feet, she raised her weapon: a sharp snap made the massive creature falter and squawk even louder, its oversized wings flailing clumsily.

A second rope pierced the armor, then a third, and the monster crashed to the ground.

Let’s finish this.

Aloy approached the enormous mechanical bird, quickly spotting what she was looking for: silver canisters were gleaming against the night.

She stepped back a few meters, and two well-placed arrows later, automatically grabbed her Blastsling—watching as Chillwater engulfed the machine in a wall of ice.