Chapter 1: The Condemnation Ball and Iron Laughter
Victor: "Elena van Cromwell! I hereby annul our engagement, right here, right now!"
Victor slammed his hard heels against the marble floor, pointing a finger from the dais, his opulent military uniform embroidered with gold thread. The dazzling light of the chandeliers illuminated the cold stares of the surrounding nobles.
Elena, her platinum blonde braids swaying, her corset dress stained black with soot and foul machine oil, narrowed her ash-blue eyes in silence. The brass dust goggles pushed up onto her forehead reflected the ballroom lights dully.
Marianne: "I was so scared, Your Highness... Lady Elena tampered with the anti-aircraft mechanism's pressure valve, trying to get rid of me...!"
Marianne, her pink curls trembling, wiped her eyes theatrically, draped in layers of silk frills. The sweetly cloying perfume stung Elena's nose, and she exhaled a small breath, averting her gaze.
Victor: "You mechanically-oily, eerie woman. To aim for the position of the next empress with those filthy hands, know your place! I shall have you executed immediately for treason!"
As a vortex of mockery filled the hall, a heavy metallic friction sound echoed from the massive iron mass strapped to Elena's slender back with thick canvas.
Pressure cylinder internal pressure rising: Critical point breached
Thump, thump, an eerie pulsation vibrated the air.
Balzac: "Hee-hee-hee-hee! Hey, Elena, did you hear that? They're saying the safety valve you slaved over for three days and three nights is defective!"
Victor: "Wh-what?! That iron mass on her back just spoke?!"
Balzac: "Isn't the cylinder of your ex-fiancé's brain filled with shit instead of brain fluid?!"
The canvas straps, unable to withstand the internal pressure, burst apart. The heavy siege gun, its exhaust valves glowing blood-red and its brass gears spinning madly, revealed its ominous full form.
Chapter 2: The Overheated Breech, The Unveiled Deceit
Victor: "Guards, fire! Seize that monster!"
A torrent of furious steam blasted forth from the massive gun barrel's slits, aimed at the brass-armored guards who advanced in unison.
A heatwave exploded.
The approaching soldiers screamed, covering their faces, and tumbled one after another onto the hall floor.
Balzac: "Don't you dare touch me, you scraps of metal! Only one person in the world is allowed to touch my trigger!"
Elena gripped Balzac's massive handle with powerful force, her thick, heat-resistant leather gloves providing purchase. She slightly pulled at the hem of her oil-stained skirt and performed a curtsey, coldly and with perfect grace.
Elena: "For the sin of driving my beloved gears mad, you shall atone with the full weight of your lives."
Marianne: "H-h-h-h... Wh-what is that monster...? Don't come near me!"
Elena: "All operational records of the Imperial Capital's Anti-Aircraft Mechanism are stored in Balzac's main memory accumulator. The exact time you intentionally removed the safety valve to smuggle parts to the southern mine owner, the bypass temperature, the residual fingerprints—everything matches perfectly."
Marianne: "Th-that's preposterous! Your Highness, don't be fooled! That woman is trying to frame me...!"
Balzac: "Hey, Elena, I'm all set to mince that noisy sow. With your slender fingers, stir me deeply, all the way into my breech..."
The deep resonance vibrated directly through Elena's bones, and she exhaled a hot, sensual breath, unable to contain herself. Pulling off her thick leather glove, she plunged her bare fingertips deep into the latch of the breech, which glowed red with heat. With a faint sizzle of burning skin, a sweet pain pierced her very marrow.♥
Elena shuddered, pushing the safety lever all the way down to its limit, savoring the viscous oil's sensation on her fingertips.
Elena: "Yes... let's go with full throttle exhaust, my Balzac."
Chapter 3: The Siege's Roar, The Dance of Ashes
Victor: "I don't care, shoot her to death! Scrap that woman along with it!"
A thunderous report, like lightning.
Balzac's massive barrel spewed a torrent of white smoke, unleashing a gigantic armor-piercing shell enveloped in super-high-pressure steam.
A storm of sound and destruction.
Marble pillars shattered like spun sugar, and the guards' thick steam armor, along with their contents, were blown into smithereens.
Balzac: "Hee-hee-hee-hee! Scream more! Give me more incredible recoil, Elenaaa!"
The corset's fasteners shrieked and groaned, as the brutal impact of the recoil shot directly from her pelvis to her spine. Each time, a hot breath, a mix of pain and pleasure, escaped Elena's lips.
Elena: "Ah... what magnificent piston action...! It electrifies me, hot to the very core of my body!"
A ricochet directly struck at Marianne's feet as she fled in terror, blasting the polished floorboards.
Marianne: "Gyaaaah! My dress, my face, covered in mud and oil!"
Elena spared only a glance for Marianne, who writhed on the floor, her silk frills brutally torn and caked in mud and debris. Enveloped in gunpowder and white smoke, she approached with an elegant stride, then pressed the red-hot muzzle against the forehead of Victor, who sat trembling, his legs giving out.
Elena: "You called me a mechanically-oily, lowly woman, didn't you? Shall I pour the taste of this hot oil deep into your empty skull?"
Victor: "H-h-h-h-gh... P-please help me...! I'm sorry, I was wrong, just spare my life!"
Chapter 4: The Brass Heart's Eternal Covenant
Elena mercilessly pressed Balzac's scorching barrel against Victor's chest, where he sat incontinent, creating a pathetic puddle on the marble floor. It seared through his gold-embroidered medals as if trampling them. A foul stench of burning skin and fabric rose, and an incoherent shriek escaped Victor's throat.
Victor: "Gyaaaah! Please, Elena, I truly love you! Without you, the Empire's mechanisms won't move, please, let's start over!"
Elena: "Don't be foolish, you irreparable scrap metal."
Smashing a heavy brass data cassette, containing all records of his corruption, against the man's face, Elena turned her back to the pulverized balcony. The cold night wind of the Imperial Capital violently caressed her oil-stained platinum blonde hair.
Balzac: "Hey, Elena, that was incredibly satisfying. But... you've already figured it out, haven't you?"
Elena: "...Figured out what?"
The wavelength of the inorganic voice modulator smoothly shifted. Amidst the profound metallic resonance, a youthful, deeply possessive male voice began to intertwine.
Balzac: "One hundred and twenty years ago, your crazy great-grandfather built my body. And the one who entered this core... was the first man to sell his soul to iron, long before you were born, to bind your entire being."
Elena's ash-blue eyes widened with surprise, then curved into a sweet, ecstatic arc. She felt madness and love melting together deep within her chest.
Elena: "...Heh. No wonder, then, that you never fit any other finger. You were meant to drive only me mad, from the very beginning..."
Elena lovingly embraced the eighty-eight-kilogram, heat-radiating iron mass, as if holding her dearest lover. Then, without hesitation, she cast herself into the deep night void of the Imperial Capital spread out below.
A flash of exhaust steam.
With a powerful roar of exhaust, a pale blue flash tore through the darkness, erupting upwards and drawing a brilliant ring of light across the night sky, forever binding the two as they fell.
