“The technology and processes that went into this weapon are too complex to explain. Fortunately, the operation is simple.”

Jerik let out a low whistle, impressed in spite of himself. He knew that Sel-Kenna was the leader of one of the Menoran Craftsman City, which had a lot of engineers who specialized in Tek construction. But to think that they’d created something so impressive still came as a shock. He walked around the weapon now, studying it from all angles. Sleek, silver, and obviously a weapon of war. He’d read enough science fiction and watched enough movies to recognize a railgun, even if he’d never seen one for his own.

“Nick wasn’t kidding,” he said delicately, coming to a halt in front of the weapon. The barrel was as wide as his chest, and he could make out all kinds of circuitry running along its surface, both inside and out. The entire weapon was about eight feet long, and its weight was supported by a thick frame of hinges and sliding legs. So the weapon obviously had a hell of a recoil. “How do you even power it?”

“Well, that was a tricky problem, I’m not afraid to admit.”

Sel-Kenna led him around to the back of the weapon and lifted a panel to reveal what had to be the most advanced battery he’d ever seen. “Young Nicholas sent us the blueprint for this, but we had to scale it up a bit.”

Something about the battery, while strange and new, also felt familiar to Jerik. It took him a few seconds to understand where he’d seen it before. “It’s the same as my suit’s battery.”

“Correct,” she said, giving him a graceful nod. “Although it is about one hundred times the size and capacity. This has been fully charged, and we have one on standby. That guarantees you four shots in total.”

“Me?” Jerik asked, catching the special significance of that. “I’m going to be firing this thing?”

She nodded again. “I’m sure to you it sounds excessive. But we cannot fire it.”

“Why not? Are you saying that none of you want to kill Kan-Menora?”

Before she answered him, she looked back at the crowd of Menorans, who were all watching this discussion without speaking a single word. Jerik glanced back at them too, just in time to see their faces. Full of anger. Hostility directed at Sel-Kenna. Then they noticed him looking, and hurriedly resumed their typical benign, neutral expressions. Graceful. Serene. Smiling. It sent a shiver down his spine.

“We do not want this weapon to be used outside of this purpose,” Jel-Kenna said, stepping forward. She was the only one who hadn’t shown hostility. “There is the chance that, after the Monster King falls, this weapon could be used for Menoran purposes. We wish to avoid that, at all costs. We wish for Kan-Menora to fall, but we won’t give our future enemies such a powerful weapon.”

“And so,” Sel-Kenna said, leaning forward to lift another panel, revealing a biometric screen, “We’ve encoded this weapon so that only you can fire it. And once it has been fired four times, it will corrupt its own system, rendering itself inoperable.”

Jerik let out another whistle, surprised at the forethought that was put into the machine. “That’s, uh, a good way to think about it. But even if you delete the system, the frame will still be there. Someone could make a new system to fire it, couldn’t they?”

“That is true. But we’ve accounted for that. Precisely sixty seconds after it fires, these runes around it on the ground will activate, teleporting the weapon to my laboratories, where my assistants will dismantle it.”

“It can still be rebuilt.”

“It cannot,” she said firmly. “Only three engineers have worked on this design and in the process of building it, and once Kan-Menora is dead, they will return to the world from which they were summoned.”

“Players made this?”

“Correct.”

She said nothing more on the topic, merely gesturing at the biometrics panel. The intent was obvious. Explanation over, time to learn how to use the weapon. He let out a quiet sigh and pressed his thumb to it. At once, the weapon came to life, humming quietly. A flood of windows appeared on his HUD as new software was downloaded and installed. He had total control over the weapon without even having to touch it. The knowledge sent a rush of adrenaline through his system.

“Wait,” he said slowly. “There’s still a weak point in your logic. The systems I’ve just downloaded can be reverse-engineered.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Nick said, stepping closer. “Your suit cannot be hacked. I’ve made sure of that. And after this is done and you’re gone, the suit will be destroyed.”

“That’s comforting,” Jerik said. And in a way, it was. Even if he wasn’t originally a resident of this world, he didn’t want something that he was involved in to be used against others. “Still, this is exceptional work. Don’t you think you’ve over-prepared a bit?”

“Hardly,” Sel-Kenna said, her smile turning into a grin. “This is the last thing standing in our way to attain peace and remove Kan-Menora’s plague. We want it done as quickly and efficiently as possible.”

“Alright then,” he replied, the adrenaline in his system mounting higher. “So I suppose I should start right away then.”

“Indeed. This weapon has been designed to be as intuitive as possible for you. Nick has been studying your style, and has instructed us to treat it like a sniper rifle.”

Well, Jerik thought, they got it mostly right. It certainly felt like he was in control of a powerful remote sniper rifle, and he understood the logistics of the weapon just fine. The situation was missing a few key elements, however, like his connection to the weapon itself. Without being able to hold it, he couldn’t mold his body and mind to it. This wasn’t something he’d shared with Nick, of course, but it was integral to the process of firing. He hummed thoughtfully, looking between the railgun, his own rifle, and Kan-Menora, who had come within effective firing range while he’d talked with Sel-Kenna.

“No, this won’t do,” he said. Everyone reacted as if he’d announced he was quitting. Sel-Kenna opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her with one raised hand. Before anyone could question him, he grabbed Paragon off of his back and seized the scope, yanking it off the weapon. It wasn’t designed to come off, and he knew he’d broken it. But he didn’t want it getting in the way.

“Jerik, what are you doing?” Nick asked. He looked mortified at the random destruction of the weapon. “What if you need to fire that?”

“If your precious Menorans say the railgun is powerful enough, I won't have to,” Jerik retorted. “Now, everybody stand back. I need some room and absolute silence.”

The silence wasn’t strictly necessary. He was trained to fire even with the distraction of a battlefield around him, but they didn’t know that. And some silence would be exceptionally useful for focusing on such an unorthodox method of firing. He removed the magazine from the weapon’s body as well and pulled back the slide releasing the round he’d chambered. To the Menorans, Paragon would undoubtedly feel useless now. But to him, it was the perfect medium.

He walked around to the very front of the railgun, and lifted Paragon, mimicking the usual stance he’d take to fire while standing. But instead of peering through its scope, which was lying on the ground behind him, he was aiming using the railgun’s crosshairs in his HUD. There, he thought. That felt much better. He was acutely aware of the railgun standing over him, but he could just convince himself of the illusion that he was firing with Paragon instead.

“Right,” he said, his voice almost whisper quiet. “Just another shot, like the countless before. Easy peasy.”

He lined his sights up with the gargantuan monster, who was staring across the battlefield in his direction. Jerik could almost believe the beast was looking at him specifically as if it knew that he was in control of the weapon aiming at him. He felt an intense calm fill his mind, and all his attention was focused forward, at his target, along that invisible line that had always guided him to shoot true. A grin spread across his face, unseen by anyone else. He fired.

Paragon, in his hands, did nothing. But there was a powerful whine of electricity behind him, and his field of vision was filled with a bright white light as the railgun discharged. A beam of pure energy shot across the battlefield faster than the eye could properly track, though, in his heightened senses, he saw its path. Perfectly straight. Right between the eyes of Kan-Menora, as he’d planned.

The roar of pain that ripped across the field drowned out all other noises, and the fighting fell away as everyone turned to see what had happened. Their eyes found Kan-Menora and widened as they took in the heavy stream of bright red blood that fell like a waterfall from its face. Not a killing shot, but close. Then they turned towards the large hill on which the Menoran command group stood, and saw the minuscule weapon that had just dealt that damage. The monsters were in shock, and the Menoran army was cautiously hopeful, but the Smoke Brigade, recognizing their commander in front of the weapon, let out a roar of their own, a roar of exultation.

Jerik fired again. This time, there was no roar. The beam of light passed through the tarrasque’s skull, through its body, and appeared on the other side. A clean pierce, he thought. A perfect killing shot. Jerik could already tell that the light had left the monster’s eyes before it began to fall. Then, slowly, as if gravity was broken where it stood, the beast’s legs gave out from under it, and it toppled to the ground. Even from thousands of feet away, the earth shook under the impact, and the plume of dust was visible, reaching high into the air like a volcanic eruption.

Cheers erupted around Jerik from all angles as the Menoran army realized that the Monster King was dead. And it had happened so quickly! Even the Menorans were giving gasps and yells of excitement as the understanding of the event swept over them. But Jerik, staring out across the battlefield, couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. The monsters facing the Menoran army still looked enraged. Murderous, even.

“Athena,” he said slowly, “What’s going on here? Why haven’t the Monster Winds faded?”

The Menorans, though cheering and laughing uproariously, fell silent at his quiet words, as if he’d shouted them. Through the corner of his eye, he saw the look on their faces. Uncertain. Afraid. Nick ran over to him, looking perplexed. “Jerik, what are you talking about? You just killed Kan-Menora. I’m sure the winds will fade in a few minutes.”

I’m not so sure. Athena padded quietly but quickly over to his side and stared out across the field.

“Nor am I,” Jerik said. “Unless you’re telling me that you let a tarrasque ride you.”

“What?” Nick blurted out, looking between him to the griffon. “What are you talking about?”

“Load the second battery,” Jerik said, ignoring his question. “Kan-Menora isn’t dead.”