Heave lads! Ho lads! Forget the comforts of books, you're in a fic now! Hello again, everyone, Larry here- With me. Where are me pipes o' smoke? Where's me tobacco, you bas- Thank you, Timothy, for dropping in. I am sure no one forgot about you. Holy hell this got so much attention practically overnight again! It's amazing, but not my main driving force for continuing. I simply give you a different take on many of the Gate x [INSERT UNIVERSE HERE] stories, some of which I highly recommend you take a look at! Without further ado, onto the reviews!

Wombag1786 - Sadly, that already happened to me, so I understand your concerns all too well. As for the comment on Sadera, I think Zorzal should get punched in the face. Alongside basically 90% of the Saderan Senate. God forbid Zorzal attempts to bring down an Automaton, that'd be inviting the dear old professors to take action. Pina, well, she tried and failed, so no lasting damage was done. Yet.

Guest - IS THAT A MOTHERFUCKING JOJO REFERE- yes, I have actually listened to their Frostpunk raps! And trust me, the Imperial Civil War will have Order and Faith clashing for the future of the Saderan Empire, with Zorzal doing his own thing and New Manchester just trying to keep things from escalating. As for the Gods, screw them. Once someone from Falmart learns how to operate the Difference Engine, it's basically game over. So the Gods have until then to stop the spread of technology. Will they succeed? Who knows! Not even I do!

MadHat886 - Why thank you.

EARTH: NEW MANCHESTER, 8:15 AM

QUINTUS P.O.V

It had been a strange morning, indeed. For starters, George had originally intended on giving Quintus and King Duran a more proper tour of the city, had it not been for the city bursting into action. Quintus understood that, when given hope, people would give it their all to achieve something, but this crossed every line. Sacrificing an entire day of what was perhaps a day of prayer, just to work. Organizing work actions in numerous 'shifts' as George had described. Enlisting special men to oversee work to make it safer and more efficient. Hell, even the children, who had been helping the academics, were now working side-by-side with adults, of their own volition no less.

It almost frightened him how efficient every citizen was, every commoner, every hunter, every child and every woman. Saderan determination and resilience was at its peak during the Arctic War two-hundred-and-fifty years ago, yes, but nothing on this level.

"This is the first time I've seen them all this determined. It's amazing what hope can do." George said out loud, perhaps on purpose so that Quintus and Duran could hear him, considering he didn't say it in his native language.

"The only time I have seen such fervor was when the Allied Kingdoms prepared to march on Alnus Hill. And even then..." Duran noted, looking all around him. Duran had no reason not to believe the claims of the otherworlders, now that he had seen their world in full. Yet, despite that, he had once more underestimated the will to survive of these people. Each and every one of them would willingly march onto Alnus Hill, even when outnumbered, if only to gain a tiny piece of land to settle on.

"Well, then. How go the calculations, Marcus?" Asked George, turning around to see Marcus still looking at the Difference Engine.

"Pretty good, so far. Lower marginal errors are non-existant, while I only have to make two adjustments total to the higher marginals. With that said, from the data I have right now, attempting to evacuate everyone at once would be suicide. We can restore a Steam Lorry or two to carry anywhere between fifty to one hundred people every twenty-four hours. That way, we can ensure New Manchester grows appropriately and according to a proper city plan." Marcus stated, continuing to shuffle through some papers and the massive calculator which the two Falmartians observed.

"That's good to know. In that case, we'll have the Automatons leave with the last wave of people, with whatever supplies they can carry. And then... the Seedling Arks." George's voice softened at the end, but Marcus just looked back at another sheet of paper.

"Not possible. Either we move them in the next three days, or we stay here to wait out a blizzard. A drop in temperature will happen, and our Heaters won't work during the trip. If the bloody Imperial Expedition Company bothered to give us proper heaters, we wouldn't be in this situation, but no. They just had to focus on their expedition from Birmingham way too much..."

A silent sigh was released by George. Marcus had a point. But Quintus and the others understood no single word the two men said moments ago. Their language was appealing to the ear, but absolutely impossible to speak for anyone on Falmart. So, the two kept looking out the window. It was all they could do for the time being, given where they were. But that soon changed, as King Duran was needed to continue negotiations. So under escort of George and Oswald, they were back on the streets.

Something which gave interest to Duran and Quintus respectively was some sort of chanting. It originated from one man, and one man only, but one with a powerful voice. His clothes were obscured by a cloak of black and purple, with small shades of gold yellow strewn about. The man had facial hair fit of someone his age, with a moustache and beard that complemented each other well. Surprisingly, he was chanting in their native language, some sort of sermon most certainly.

"Hear me, my brothers and sisters, for He has answered our prayers! The way to Eden has been revealed, by Him, no less! Need not we warm our blisters by the fire anymore! Need not we huddle in the freezing air anymore! For He had provided us divination, as He had provided us an Ark! The temperature's low, but our Purpose is much higher, and for staying ever-vigilant, He rewarded us with Eden! It is only right that, for His gift, we repay Him with our undying Faith in Him. O Lord, we hope you guide us into Eden. O Lord, we pray we will make it. Blessed be, the Holy City of New Manchester, and all the souls which take refuge within. Amen." The man ended, all present repeating every sentence he spoke with a delay. The man had spirit, faith and a purpose. Yet Quintus knew he and his flock worshipped a false God, as all those before him have. The Gods on Falmart were very real, but Gods on this... Earth, were not. Oswald must have noticed that the two were paying attention to the sermon, and thus, chipped in.

"I heard he was a song writer before the Great Winter. One of the best in Manchester. Archibald Locke is his name. Can't say if what he's doing is right, proclaiming himself 'Protector of the Truth' but he has kept the hopes of all in New Manchester high. Only a few take him seriously, however." The man said, continuing to lead the group towards where the captain of New Manchester was. Upon arriving, the two could see him talking with one of the workers of the city, before promptly turning to them. He had a jovial look.

"Well, I am glad to finally see you up close, King Duran. My name is Lewis Watts. A pleasure to meet properly." Lewis offered his hand, and, thankfully knowing what it meant, Duran accepted it. As the two men shook hands, Lewis spoke.

"If you have nothing more to see, then let's talk about our rights to settle. Hopefully make a deal."

EARTH: NEW MANCHESTER STREETS, 9:36 AM

LEWIS WATTS P.O.V

Just as expected, negotiations bogged down. King Duran was pleasant to talk with, even if they needed a translator to help them. He was hardly the one bogging down negotiations, oh no. The Saderan Empire was the one holding the leash of the Allied Kingdoms, and any deal made without their consent would be considered treason. However...

"The Empire is currently pre-occupied with a future fight against a tribe of highly aggressive nomads. If you were to find those lost legions, and convince them to join you, your city may stand a fighting chance." Duran declared, as the two slowly walked the streets of New Manchester. Walking and talking... an ancient practice, one which still worked.

"No doubt. But I suspect that the Empire isn't the only reason we're still not coming up with a satisfying deal." Lewis inquired, knowing that there was always more than one obstacle to any deal. Culture shock, tech gap, unorthodox views of Falmartians towards anyone else, slavery and most importantly: twisted pride. It seemed that only a scant few did not succumb to it.

"You are correct. While I am the Grand Marshall of the Allied Kingdoms, they will not necessarily stand by my side on matters of politics. I had barely convinced them all not to attack your... Automatons, if I did not forget the name, despite my orders. You may need to send someone to convince them." Duran said, his face furrowing. Dealing with the other leaders of the Allied Kingdoms, despite being elected Grand Marshall, was never his forte. He was always more for commanding the troops, or leading his own kingdom for which he cared for very much.

"Hm... I may have a solution. I assume they would want something to benefit themselves from us before aiding us, correct?" Lewis asked, getting a nod in return after Edward, a former Cambridge Professor, translated. "In that case, I can only guarantee that I can send Archibald as an impromptu negotiator, given his knowledge of Latin, and, with Robert's approval, one of his men to showcase what they could get by co-operating with us."

"That would be a great stepping stone. Given the nature of the other leaders, and Falmart's current technological level, as Albert, if I remember correctly, said, the academics alone wouldn't be able to sway them. Bring someone with charisma, a strong will, a voice of an angel and a messenger of the divine, and they will listen." Duran concluded, much to the satisfaction of Lewis. Progress was being made, and that was all that mattered. So long as a deal was achieved before the Storm looped back round for the bi-annual pass...

"Then it's settled. I will talk with Robert about sending one of his colleagues alongside Archibald to the other side. And one more thing... I have to thank whatever God of yours opened the Gate. For both our sake, and yours. If the Gate opened anywhere else, I think all of Falmart would have needed to be evacuated before the Storm hit..." Lewis stated, his words ringing true. The three men walked along, now in silence, the only sounds being the ones of the surrounding people, and of the Automatons. The people were still very much in a frenzy, and Lewis couldn't but smile.

"Foreman needed at the Steelworks! The workers need extra motivation!"

"Extra rations for the ill! They refuse to stay in the infirmary and wish to work!"

"Volunteers needed for third shift on the Wall Drill!"

"Help needed at the Workshops! Radicalization of Automaton carrying capacity on the horizon!"

"Steam Core found! Steam Core found! Help needed to carry it back to the Factory!"

"We did it! We found salvation!"

FALMART: ALLIED KINGDOMS BASE CAMP, 2:07 PM

PINA CO LADA P.O.V

The entire argument was over in less than an hour. While Pina and Hamilton did bring good arguments, attempting to argue with the leaders of the Allied Kingdoms was like trying to convince a wall that it was a bird. Despite being the Third Princess of the Saderan Empire, she apparently did not have the authority to command anyone but her order of knights, unless given permission.

At least she could finally inquire as to why exactly King Duran gave the order not to attack those dangerous beasts, for he had returned. Without the legions, no less, and curiously enough, with two visitors from the other side.

"The Grand Marshall returns." One of the kings said, seeing King Duran enter the tent where everyone was. He looked no different than usual, having changed back into his armour.

"Indeed I have. I see that the princess has also graced us all with her presence." Duran remarked, bowing ever so slightly, to show his respect. "I bring most curious visitors, for I have been discussing a certain topic with the otherworlders."

Holding open the tent flap, the first person to have entered was... strange. He looked like a blacksmith, with leather gloves and clothes made from a fine enough fabric, but the strange pieces of metal and glass on the man's forehead made no sense. The next person was rather easy to recognise. A priest, more than likely, judging by the cloak he wore. Of what God, however, was unknown. Before anyome could speak up, the priest started.

"Hear me, o people of Falmart, and rejoice! For He has given you a gift most gracious! And that gift, brothers and sisters, is enlightenment! God has answered my prayers, and has given you his gift, should you accept it." The priest said with great passion, captivating those around him. The kings grew interested, wanting to know which god offered enlightenment. Pina, on the other hand, remained wary. Her eyes landed on the man next to the priest, who looked unmoved, regal and uninterested in the priest's words.

"And which god offers such gift?" Blurted out Hamilton, prompting the priest to turn around, a smile forming on his face.

"You must be mistaken, sister, for God is only one, and a name he does not need. But the gift, my friends, comes not from me, but from this man here. Brother Edward, you may speak." The priest concluded, and allowed the man, known as Edward, to step up. He cleared his throat before speaking up.

"Thank you, father Archibald. My name is Edward Ford, a former professor of Cambridge University. We have been talking with King Duran about rights to settle here, on Alnus Hill, and have concluded that, if we want to earn that right, we should show our merits. Thus, I present to you... the Automaton. Please follow me outside." The academic spoke, exiting the tent calmly. The ones present came out one by one, if anything, to see what was so important. Considering Sadera's prosperity, hardly anything could match it. Pina, Hamilton and Grey were the last ones to leave, and all three gasped loudly. The beast of iron was there, standing triumphantly in front of the camp.

"As I said, we call it an Automaton. Despite what you may think, the Automaton was never designed for war, and as such, has never participated in battles. The Automaton's primary power source is the Tesla-Babbington Mk. III Steam Core, capable of producing both heat and electricity to keep the Automaton from freezing, and to keep it running." The words this academic spoke were strange, made no sense, and hardly understood. Was this supposed to be common knowledge? Sensing the confusion, Edward continued.

"However, without a brain, a piece of metal is just that. So we had given it the Difference Engine, created by Sir Charles Babbage. Capable of making complex calculations far easier and faster than any one man, it is by far, the greatest invention to have graced mankind. The Automaton's handles located on the belly are capable of carrying hundreds upon hundreds of kilograms of a variety of materials, as well as perform agricultural duties. It can even work in infirmaries, treating the worst of illnesses, from the Common Cold to, god forbid, gangrene and severe frostbite. Automatons can replace entire teams of workers. Automatons need no food, no water, no sleep and work without stopping. The only thing they need is coal. So long as that is available, they will work."

The grandest revelation sent the leaders into a frenzy. Each one bombarded the academic with questions, and each one got his answer. The one to put an end to all that was Pina. "Lies! The enemy tries to trick us! We had seen one sever a man's leg without effort-"

"The nerve! To speak ill of one you know nothing about is sin enough, but calling one an enemy is an even greater sin! God cares not for one's status in this mortal life, for He judges all equally! We are His children, and He will decide our fates! The man had suffered an accident, nothing more, and nothing less." Archibald yelled out, cutting off Pina mid-sentence, which infuriated her. This man, priest or not, needed to learn manners when speaking to royalty.

"I say that you are untrustworthy! You have caused suffering to a man, and dismiss it as an accident! How dare YOU!?" Pina shouted, getting ready to draw out her sword if need be. Edward fruitlessly attempted to diffuse the situation. Archibald was ready to put the princess in her place.

"You speak of suffering, yet know nothing close to it! My people ran from the cold, which ravaged our entire world! Millions died, and millions more starved! This was no threat which could be fought! This was no threat which could be defeated! The Storm could only be survived! God has given us strength, and we persevered. We survived against all odds, staring into the apocalyptic eye of the Storm, which descended from the skies, crashing the heavens themselves unto us! God forbid your world ever sees the Storm, for it only brings death. Not even your gods can stop its rampage. Ne'er a lantern has been lit with oh so righteous a spark, as the day our city survived the deathly cold Storm. Five thousand souls, watched over by the divine. Eden shant be denied to us, for He has shown us the way."

This left everyone present stunned, save for King Duran and Edward. Not even the gods could stop it? Not even the gods could stop it!? The audacity! Pina knew that the gods were supreme beings, and nothing could stop them save for other gods! To say that something so mundane as a mere blizzard could not be stopped by the gods was ridiculous! But... why did Pina start feeling something? It was an unexplainable emotion, caused by the look King Duran had just given her with his one remaining eye. It was a judgemental one, and Grey was the first to notice. He knew something others did not.

"I'm sorry... you said a soldier got wounded because of an Automaton?" Edward asked, obviously confused. Due to Pina still attempting to find an appropriate answer to Archibald's argument, and due to her being in a state of semi-shock, Grey was the one to answer.

"Indeed. One of your... 'Automatons', stepped on one of the soldiers and ripped out his leg."

"Christ almighty... a good thing I brought spare prosthetics. I can treat the soldier if I am led to him. You can observe if it makes you feel at ease." Edward declared, gaining a curt, yet cautious nod from Grey, who excused himself from the company of Pina and Hamilton, in favour of escorting Edward to the wounded soldier. All the while, King Duran conversed with the other leaders of the Allied Kingdoms, voices being raised from time to time, yet no argument breaking out just yet. And Archibald simply prayed. He silently muttered prayers in his own native language to the God he worships, about what, Pina didn't know.

EARTH: UNDISCOVERED CAVE SYSTEM, 2:11 PM

LEGIONS P.O.V

This was horrible. Over nine thousand remaining men were trapped in a cave, in a world they knew nothing about, and with a cold that killed even the disgusting demi-humans and plethora of monsters which added over five thousand to the three legions. Each step the troops made exhausted them to no end, some giving up, others continuing. By now, normal food had ran out, and the troops were forced to eat the monsters they brought with them. Rationing was introduced, with even demi-humans getting some of the rations, thanks to the mercy of Count Formal of Italica. Alas, he was ill.

The man had become gravely ill: his leg had been cut off to stop it from infecting the rest of the body, but was disinfected poorly. It was a miracle the Count did not die hours later due to another infection.

"I would kill to fight an Ancient Fire Dragon right about now... at least it would warm us up." Said one of the Saderan soldiers to his comrade. The two sat near each other, attempting to warm themselves up as best they could. The two shivered as their cold breaths attempted to heat up their hands. "Damn this cold..."

"I get you... I heard we will run out of food any day now. We're consuming too much because of exhaustion, and... dear gods. I can get behind eating our beasts, but not ourselves. I even fear for the demi-humans... no one deserves such a grim fate." The other soldier said, a tear forming. "Flare, I pray to you to keep us warm. Please..."

Such was the desperation that forced most to turn to the divine for warmth. The Bunny Warriors were one of the most affected, but also most resilient. Even if none had died, they would start to, soon. One of them held sheets of aged paper in her hand, trying to make sense of the strange words which were written on it. Her shivering was getting worse, perhaps she was even sick from disease. She hoped beyond hope to survive, return to her world, even if back into slavery, just so she could feel warm again. Finally, after having observed the sheets of paper, she finally came to the language she oh so very much knew. But these were the last pages, and those pages disturbed her.

"It's all hopeless. Fuck London. Fuck the Crown. Fuck the Imperial Expedition Company. Fuck them all. I had to sit idly while I reported to London about developments. I was told not to tell anyone, especially not those poor sods from the Working Class. Dear fucking God, I couldn't even tell my son to start saving up for the ticket. The Lords, the politicians, the Army officers... that's all that mattered to London. The Crown was definitely guaranteed a private Dreadnought which would lead them to a private Generator. Time after time after time I hoped Parliament would come to its senses, for the Royal Society to do SOMETHING, ANYTHING! All in vain. The Great Winter came, the fuckers went, and almost everyone on the planet died. I had to count how many Dreadnoughts left port from the British Isles. Do you wanna know, how fucking many? Only four hundred. TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND PEOPLE SURVIVED! AT BEST! MILLIONS UPON MILLIONS UPON MILLIONS OF PEOPLE LIVED ON EARTH, AND HOW FUCKING MANY SURVIVED!? TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND! I can't even write in English anymore... I give up. I don't want to live in a world where everyone I cared for is dead... if anyone finds this and is able to read Latin... please bury me. I just want to see my son again."

Each page contained three or four crude drawings, accompanied by their own deranged comments from the mysterious author. One such page had what appeared to be a flag, with something written underneath: "Murderers". What were apparently names were crossed out violently, one page even having a slight tear in it in the place of a crossed out name. Various symbols littered the very last page, one of a skull, another of a coat of arms of some kind, and the last one... by the gods, it was graphic. The author, whoever he was, had apparently remained sane enough to depict in detail his supposed suicide, via drawing. The doodle of the author cut himself open violently with a knife, intestines falling out, lung punctured, heart barely beating, the chest cut open and subsequently torn open.

The Bunny Warrior could read no more. It was tragic, in a sense. The man was forced to live longer than his son, could not help people, and most importantly: was likely betrayed by his own kingdom. Worse yet, he must have died alone. Alone in the cold which kills all.

"Delilah... what is that?" Asked a Bunny Warrior as she slowly approached her friend, Delilah. She was shivering as well, but less so than the others.

"I... I don't know anymore... they look like the last moments of a man who lived in this cave... most of this I can't read, but... the last pages I can. He insults his country because of what happened, and... the text claims there were millions on this entire world. And now...? Only two hundred thousand... at best."

"I wouldn't blame him... even a patriotic man would do the same if he lived in this wasteland..." Spoke the gruffy voice of one of the Saderan soldiers who had been sitting nearby, trying his damnest to stay warm, even if inside a cave. Days ago that same soldier was abusing every demi-human that dared even try to speak in his presence, and now? Now he just wanted to go home. In the meantime, Delilah's ears shot up: someone was coming from outside the cave. It didn't sound human, or natural at all. Slowly getting up, Delilah went to investigate what was making such a sound. Apparently the other Bunny Warriors had also picked up on the noise, but not the Saderans, not by a long shot. Exiting the cave, Delilah, her friends, and three Saderans whom were outside on guard duty were stunned. Nearing them was a group of ten people, each on some sort of sleds which moved by themselves. They looked unbothered by the cold, and only sped up after they saw people.

Under normal circumstances, every soldier would've been informed by now of someone unknown approaching, and would appropriately take defensive positions. Except these times were all but normal. Exhaustion, cold, malnutrition... to hell with it all. The men and women who stood at the entrance to the cave simply rescinded their fate to these men. If they were savages, hopefully they'd take them someplace slightly warmer, even if as slaves. If not...

As the first of the sleds came to a halt, one man had gotten off, adjusting what looked like a magic torch on his right shoulder. His face was mostly covered by cloth, the eyes only being visible, and even they were covered with something else. As time slowly passed, more and more men came, until there were ten. And suddenly, one asked a question.

"You're from Falmart, correct?" The lead man asked, shouting due to a sudden gust of wind. The soldier on the ground merely nodded, earning a barely visible shrug from the man. Trudging through the snow, he and his group approached the cave, slowly turning their heads towards the people they passed. The looks stuck the longest on the Bunny Warriors, for whatever reason, good or ill. "Where is your leader? Is he still alive?"

"He is... deeper in the cave... Legatus Pontus will show you..." Answered yet another soldier, his coughing only intensifying by the minute. The man discussed something with his enteurage, before turning to Delilah.

"Do you have any knowledge of medicine?" He asked her. She only meekly nodded, earning a sigh of relief from the man. "Then get these men inside. My friends here can ease their pain. If not... amputation it is." He stated, grimly so. That was the last she had seen of him since then. Delilah wouldn't meet the man again until much, much later...