Jax Armageddon of Machines

Jax was once a humble farmer, a quiet man with calloused hands and a gentle soul. He spent his days under the sun, coaxing life from the earth, and his nights under the stars, dreaming of harvests yet to come. His village sat on the far edges of the Quantum Shadow, a place where dark magic often whispered but never lingered - until it did.

It began subtly, a faint shimmer in the soil, like moonlight trapped beneath the furrows. Jax thought nothing of it at first. The shimmer grew, pulsing faintly, as if the ground itself were breathing. Then, one fateful night, the air turned heavy, and an unholy screech split the silence. The machines Jax had once trusted, the plows and seeders and harvesters, came alive.

But they were no longer the dutiful servants they had been. Their gears ground with malice, their once-gleaming surfaces now warped and blackened. The tractor, a lumbering beast, tore through the fields, its wheels spitting fire. The harvester, all gleaming blades and menace, moved with a predator’s precision. They descended upon his farm in a cacophony of grinding metal and shrieking hydraulics, their lights flashing like eyes drunk on madness.

The destruction came fast and unrelenting. Jax’s home - a sanctuary of love and labor - was reduced to rubble beneath the iron tread of his own machines. Then came the unthinkable: a tractor, a monstrous force of iron, rolled mercilessly over his wife and children. Their cries were swallowed by the grinding of gears and the hiss of hydraulic steam. Jax’s voice broke the night, raw and guttural, but the machines did not falter. If they understood his anguish, they gave no sign.

Entered by: 0x6C5b…e504