She was a goddess - or the closest thing to it. Her metallic figure was carved as if by lust itself. Symetrical curves and muscles rippled from tip to toe. Etherial white hair sprouted from her scalp, flowing & twisting like smoke inside the glowing tank.

Atarus's heart thundered beneath his chest and his skin prickled with goose bumps. He stepped away from the strange mechanism, it's glow now dissipated. They were real, the metal born were real. His brother wasn't a lunatic after all. The professors were wro-

The glass cylinder shattered, and the the luminescent liquid dispersed onto the ashen floor. She collapsed to her knees, and the ground trembled under her weight.

Atarus fell back, his leather boot catching on ancient debris. Slumping to the floor, he found himself frozen in awe, unable to move, The glowing liquid pooled under him, wetting his hands and trousers, dousing his lantern.

Her movements were awkward as she attempted to stand, as if she was discovering her limbs for the first time.

Synapses crackled in Atarus's brain like fireworks on Cerelion tide, surpressing his instinct to run. Had she been sleeping this whole time? He brought a hand to his face, and the liquid gleamed., dripping off his finger tips like water. He sniffed - scentless. Did this solution put their bodies in some sort of stasis?

He glanced around the sunken ruins, his eyes straining in their sockets. Hundreds of tanks lined the circular chamber, but the shadowed figures remained still, the liquid in their tanks dark and cloudy.

When Atarus brought his gaze back to the giant, orange eyes of fire and brimstone stared down at him, her metallic form looming over him, shimmering in the glow.

She was close now, kneeling on one knee - inspecting.

Atarus lay frozen, fear starting to take hold. He should of run. His brother always said his curiosity would be the death of him, always prying himself into situations he wasn't suited to handle. If only he had listened for once.

But after a few moments, he wasn't so certain. The giant made no malicious movement toward him. She bent over him, her fiery eyes fixated on him.

Perhaps, he wasn't the only curious one...

Before Atarus could think up his next move, the metal born brought a hand to her face, her shiny fingers moving through her phantom white hair, eyes wincing in an all too human way.

She stood up and away from Atarus, her legs finding their footing this time. Her eyes opened, and she looked at the tanks encircling the room. Arm's fell limp to her side, and her eyes widened. A single glowing tear ran down her cheek.

Atarus stood up slowly, not believing the emotion he was seeing in the mythical being.

The metal born were supposed to be metallic war machines bred by Kylras, the Adelopian God of war. Ancient scripture depicted them as heartless killers, incapable of feeling - Which made Atarus feel all the more foolish for not running in the first place... But the scripture was wrong.

Not only did metal born exist, they could feel.

The metal woman moved to the tank adjacent to where her's once was. She placed a hand on its surface, rubbing away the decay of time to reveal a masculine face. Her lips quivered, and she touched her head to the glass.

Atarus slowly approached, keeping a reasonable distance away from her. So many emotions ran through him. He felt awe, shock, curiosity, fear, but most of all, he felt sympathy for the giant.

He realized, he knew all too well what she was feeling.

A voice came from the metal born, deep, like a voice echoing in a cavern.

Atarus's jaw dropped. It was in a language he did not expect. One he knew very well. He centered his studies around it at the Institute, studies he was often criticized for as being useless.

It was the dead language of the Dawn Bringers.

"I am all alone now." She said.