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"Monty," Parson whispered. "Monty, wake up." He writhed weakly and vainly within his chains, but nothing could be done. He wasn't even able to hoist himself into a seated position.

He sighed. Lamont wasn't going to respond, was he?

'Overra?' he tried.

And he waited.

No answer there, either.

Where were all the reapers? Parson couldn't see any of them. They must've still been inside each of the robots--and unconscious, most likely, because a few of those reapers weren't given to being quiet, even in the face of an emperor.

He tried to think. To focus any thoughts that might be useful. Escape was essentially impossible. Not useful to dwell on, at the moment. But that didn't mean they were doomed, either. If he operated under the assumption that he eventually would be free again, one way or another, then he could view his current time as a chance to learn about the enemy.

About the Mad Demon himself.

From an intelligence-gathering standpoint, this was an invaluable opportunity.

The emperor of madness had been reclusive for the last twenty years or more. A few rumors had even begun to spread that he might've accidentally killed himself in one of his own experiments--or gotten lost in some foreign reality, never to return. Parson had never believed such things for a moment, of course, but they did paint a certain picture of the strangeness of Morgunov's absence.

The more reasonable speculation had been that Morgunov was simply working on something and didn't intend to reveal himself until it was ready. And seeing these machines, that seemed be right on the money.

And yet, this timing was also suspicious.

Ever since the outbreak of this new continental war, Parson had been thinking that something was off. Before news arrived of those five simultaneous invasions, the long-awaited Project Blacksong had been imminent. Now, it was delayed due to the massive number of redeployments required to deal with the war.