The heat rose slowly, steadily. Broiling noises emitted from a ventilated pool. A faint click sounded, accompanied by the engagement of curved metal blades. The blades began to spin, whipping around two substances that filled the chamber. One of the liquids, an amber-hued fluid called anundrexos, served as both a quieter and fulfiller of the other. It kept the second liquid, blood-red and highly explosive erundam, from obliterating its holder before its use and removed oxygen from it.
As the erundam heated and oxygen streamed out of it, kerium and blasteria remained, the elements at odds. The two metalloids acted like missionaries of separate religions, opposingly-charged ions attempting to convert the other. Neutral anundrexos quenched any attempts for the erundam to explode.
At one end of the chamber, there was a separate pocket that produced the heat for the larger cavity. Inside, highly-enriched coal burned with ventilation at the top and back. The dense material seared at over one thousand degrees centigrade.
The other end of the chamber had a sealed port that led into a tube. The tube sloped down with magnets lining it, the magnets only strong enough to attract anundrexos, separating the fluids. Pure deoxidized erundam streamed into an elliptical chamber of fast-moving water pushed by convection fueled by small ports of heat that switched on and off. The erundam changed into viscous foam exploding out of a door at the end of the water tube.
The foam spewed at a high speed down upon a company of approaching enemy infantry. The gunmen were obliterated on contact. At the same time, the felons employed to control the machine’s furnaces cheered. Chemists reloaded the machine with ample erundam and anundrexos. With the machine at top heat, subsequent rounds of foam discharge quickened drastically in pace. The soldierly genocide continued.