The wall towered over the network of highways, where the cargo transport trucks and other civilians drove for their daily commutes. The Elvander army walked back and forth on top of the wall keeping their eyes fixed below them for any signs of trouble with their weapons drawn, ready to strike at any given moment.

A figure appeared by the bridge above the highway with a large object being dragged behind him.

“Who the hell is that?” One of the soldiers used his binoculars to get a better view of the figure.

The binoculars showed a bloodied, weak Deacon pulling a lifeless Ragnar through the bridge toward the border of Elvander with a makeshift wagon that still couldn’t support the full weight of the Golem.

“Is that a Shadow Cannon member?” Another soldier asked.

“I doubt it, the Golem isn’t moving and the guy looks like crap.” The soldier with the binoculars responded with his eyes still fixed on Deacon.

Deacon looked at the top of the wall and noticed the soldiers watching him closely for any suspicious activity that may require some form of action on their part. He wiped the sweat from his brow and moved closer to the wall’s entrance.

“Hold it there!” Another one of the soldiers used the wall’s speaker system to halt Deacon’s steps while the other soldiers aimed their rifles at the young, bloodied man.

He just avoided one near-death experience for another.

Deacon took in a deep breath.

“I’m not here for trouble!” Deacon yelled out with his voice shaking from either exhaustion, frustration and/or anger, “My friend here is no longer functioning and Shadow Cannon kidnapped my other friend! I just need some help to get her back!”

“How do we know you’re not a spy?” The soldier asked through the loudspeaker.

I’m cut up, dirty, sweating, and I’m asking for help!” Deacon sighed. “And I’m pretty sure that I wouldn’t be taking the front door if I was a spy!”

“Stay right there!”

“Fine.” Deacon muttered angrily to himself. He stood by the entrance to the country hoping to get some assistance and some way to get Ragnar repaired. He wasn’t sure it was possible, but at this point, he didn’t care for possibilities.

A loud creaking noise snapped him out of his thoughts and a beam of light from the gate’s entrance began to open wider. Deacon wasn’t sure what was going to happen to him once the soldiers finished opening the doors. He was either going to get access or die right there and he got excited for nothing, so he kept his face straight enough to not let them see his emotion.

The soldier with the binoculars looked over to Deacon with one hand holding the large steel door and another hand signaling him to enter.

Deacon smiled the biggest smile he can physically manifest and used the remaining amount of his strength and stamina to pull Ragnar with him. The wheels he grabbed from some random shopping cart back at the island squeaked with every inch that Deacon pulled it, but he didn’t care. The mission was almost done, but he soon realized that without the fuel cell— it was all for nothing.

“What’s wrong?!” The soldier yelled out to Deacon, but what he really meant was why he was taking his sweet time when they’re trying to avoid a Shadow Cannon attack by not leaving their front door open and yet here we are waiting for this weird sweaty guy to make his decision about entering.

“I need to get to your capital!” Deacon answered back. He rushed to the entrance with Ragnar laying behind him.

“For what?” The soldier began to pat Deacon down for any hidden weapons or other contraband that he may have on his person.

They were standing in a cold, white hallway where nothing decorated the walls except for the lining of the bricks that made up the border wall’s foundation. The bright white lights exposed every nook and cranny that the hall tried to keep away from view and made Deacon shield his eyes, almost like staring at the sun.

“I need to talk to the person in charge and I need to get this big guy fixed.” Deacon pointed over to the lifeless Ragnar.

“That Golem? Why should we help Shadow Cannon by repairing their weapon?” Another soldier remarked. His scarred face showed that he was serious about his words, but Deacon didn’t have time to argue or feel intimidated. He needed his demands met if he was going to pull off this last attempt of a plan that can save Ashe and possibly the world— if it was done right.

“That Golem is the reason why I’m here in the first place.” Deacon made his thoughts clear. “Its mission was to get a fuel cell to Elvander to power up its defenses against Shadow Cannon when they come in for an all-out attack.”

“Who told that Golem to do it? We sure as hell didn’t send out one of our own to do it.” The scarred soldier scoffed. His attitude was starting to get to Deacon.

But he stayed silent.

Ragnar didn’t even know who made it abandon its post to deliver the fuel cell or changed its programming. The Golem was kept in the dark about its own self, let alone the fuel cell.

“Let me call it in, Troy.” The binocular soldier nodded at the scarred soldier and lifted his radio through his battle vest. “Come in, Home Time, come in, over.”

“This is Home Time, what’s your sixty? Over.” A man’s voice appeared on the radio.

“I got a guy here at the Goose Neck and he brought in an unwanted guest. Over.”

“Did he say what he wanted? Over.” The voice asked.

“Something about a fuel cell? Over.”

The voice stayed silent for a good minute before responding, “Be right there, over and out.”

None of that sounded good for Deacon.

The group of soldiers along with Deacon walked through the hallway. No one said a word; the only sound was from their shoes beating on the floor and the loud squealing noise from Ragnar’s wagon as they marched through the corridor to some unknown section of the wall’s interior.

“Where are we going?” Deacon grew worried about the lack of communication.

“Don’t worry about it.” Troy answered with his attitude-filled voice.

Deacon gulped on air and continued following them. The walls were still bare even as they kept going further through the hallways.

They finally stopped in front of a door painted with the same color as the interior walls as some attempt to camouflage itself.

“Wait in here and someone will talk with you.” Troy the scarred-soldier opened the door for Deacon to enter.

Deacon kept his lips sealed and pulled Ragnar with him into an empty room, furnished with a large desk and a few seats; it had an interrogation room atmosphere.

“Who am I waiting for?” Deacon stood by the desk, confused and frustrated by the lack of answers.

“Just take a seat and wait.” The binocular soldier stood by the door with his team.

Deacon planted himself on one of the chairs and watched the door close shut, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Time passed for a few moments before the sound of the doorknob turning woke Deacon from his power nap. A pale older man in a suit and tie walked into the room alone without the previous soldiers to keep an eye on Deacon. The man sat across from Deacon by the table then looked over to Ragnar with a look of curiosity. He then reached his hand over to Deacon for a handshake.

“I’m the head of defense for Elvander, my name is Roy Freeman.”

“Deacon Maynard.” Deacon returned the gesture.

“Where are you from, Deacon Maynard?” Roy asked as he leaned back in his seat.

“I’m from Cille.” Deacon wasn’t sure if he was being interrogated as a suspected member of Shadow Cannon or was actually going to get help from the mysterious man.

“You’re a long way from Cille, kid.” Roy looked over to Ragnar then paused before he spoke again, Tell me, what do you know about Project Ragnarok?”

Deacon’s face showed surprised to Roy’s question. That name showed up inside Ragnar’s programming and nowhere else unless something was going on that’s been kept in the dark by Elvander’s top people.

“Depends.” Deacon enunciated lightly with his response, “What should I know about it?”

Roy looked back at Ragnar then let out a deep sigh, “Golems are really fascinating when you look beyond the lines of code and wires.”

“Ragnar mentioned an escort.” Deacon cut to the chase.

“Yes, we were expecting one of our allies… and Ragnar,” Roy drummed on the table, “but I assume the agent never got out of the Shadow Cannon base.”

“So that was Project Ragnarok?” Deacon asked.

“Project Ragnarok is…” Roy thought about what he was going to say. “Or more like was a top-secret experiment that we worked on with the help of our allies to make use of the Golems that were located on the Isle of Heathens.”

“So you’re saying that they were never built?” Deacon asked. “So you found them on some island?”

“Sounds crazy, but when we discovered these creatures. We thought about the true potential of their abilities.” Roy took a deep breath, “Machines with free will.”

“So if they have free will, how is Shadow Cannon using them to, you know, kill?”

“We had learned that they had a natural source code, written in a customized language that was the Golem’s own. The thing about code is that it can be edited—”

“By anyone.” Deacon interrupted.

“Yes exactly. So we made sure that they kept their code intact and kept the peace with the Golems in order to have them on our side when needed.”

“So how did Shadow Cannon end up with them?” Deacon grew more curious about Ragnar’s lineage.

“We worked a deal with the Golems, which was they fought with us and we’d equip them with state-of-the-art Elvander technology that would serve them greatly in the battlefield and outside. The only thing was that in order to get them equipped was to have the Golems in our facility.”

“That’s when Shadow Cannon attacked and stole them.” Deacon was anxious to get to the bottom of the story. “Why are you telling me all this top-secret stuff?”

“Because we tasked the agent with giving one of the Golems’ free will back. So… Ragnar was never programmed to trust anyone, he just did. He trusted you enough to ask you to help him. So we have to trust you.”

“That’s great and all, but how is that possible without a living Golem or a fuel cell?” Deacon looked over at Ragnar, his friend. He felt more comfortable about the fact that Ragnar wasn’t pre-programmed to pick him as a friend.

That was all Ragnar.

“The thing about these bio-mechanical creatures is that they run on a power source, only known to them. We don’t even know what it is or if it’s even possible to recreate it. We do have a generator that will maybe give this guy enough juice to kick death in the ass.”

“So you’re saying we can revive him?!” Deacon smiled and stood up from his chair in anxiousness to get the thing done.

“We can try and hopefully we can test out Project Ragnarok with him. I think he’ll be pleased with the results.”

“As will I, Mr. Freeman.” Deacon kept his smile, “As will I.”