Miles trailed Page through the labyrinth of shadowy alleys, his footsteps echoing softly in the stillness. The deeper they ventured into the city's underbelly, the more oppressive the atmosphere became. He kept his breathing steady, his senses sharp, trying to ignore the unsettling feeling creeping up his spine.
Page moved with effortless confidence, her stride unwavering as if she owned the alleys. She glanced back at him, her smirk razor-sharp. "Stick close, newbie. If you lose me, you'll be on your own down here—and trust me, that's not a position you want to be in."
Miles clenched his fists, muttering under his breath, "Like I even have a choice."
Page abruptly halted, raising a hand to stop him. Her gaze fixed ahead, and Miles followed it, his brow furrowing in confusion.
Before them stood what appeared to be a dead-end wall, its surface smooth and unremarkable, Miles opened his mouth to question her, but before he could speak, Page stepped forward—and walked straight through the wall.
"What the—?" Miles froze, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Her head poked back through the wall, her expression a mixture of amusement and impatience. "What's the holdup? Haven't you ever been to the main base? Hurry up and get in before someone sees you," she hissed.
Miles took a shaky breath, muttering to himself, I hope this is where El's machine is kept. He stepped forward cautiously, bracing himself as he touched the surface. The wall shimmered, glowing blue as he passed through it. Once he was inside, the entrance rippled before solidifying back into an impenetrable barrier.
The scene before him left Miles momentarily speechless. He was standing in a massive factory, the space gleaming white from floor to ceiling. Workers in white coats bustled about, each engrossed in their tasks as they moved between rows of strange, intricate machines. The air buzzed with energy and the faint hum of technology.
Miles's eyes darted around, his attention snagging on a worker at a nearby station. The person was assembling what looked like a weapon, the parts glinting under the bright factory lights. Curious, Miles pointed toward the worker. "What's that guy working on?" he asked.
Page barely glanced at the worker before replying, her tone nonchalant. "Oh, that's a Gloster Jocker. It uses energy to produce blasts. It's still a work in progress, though."
Miles raised an eyebrow, leaning in slightly to get a better look. They don't even have guns yet, despite their technology being so far ahead of my world, he thought to himself.
"What was that?" Page's sharp voice cut through his musings. She was staring at him, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Miles blinked, his heart skipping a beat. "N-nothing," he stammered, shaking his head. "I was just… impressed, that's all."
Page studied him for a moment longer before smirking. "Keep that awe to yourself, newbie. We've got somewhere to be."
She turned on her heel, motioning for him to follow. "Come on. I'm taking you to someone who handles recruiting trusted newbies."
Miles's stomach tightened. Recruiting? Trusted newbies? The words sent a chill down his spine. A wave of unease swept over him as he scratched the back of his head, struggling to think of a way to stall. "Uh, hey," he blurted. "Do we have to do that now? I mean… this place is amazing. Can't I look around more? Or—don't you guys have something that can help find missing people? That'd be way more useful right now."
Page stopped in her tracks, slowly turning to face him. Her smirk was gone, replaced by a piercing, calculating look. "Why are you asking about that?" she said, her voice low and laced with suspicion.
Miles forced a nervous laugh, his hands raised in mock surrender. "Just curious," he said, trying to keep his tone light. "Figured a place this advanced would have something like that."
Page didn't reply immediately. She tilted her head, her gaze boring into him like she was trying to read his every thought. The air between them felt heavy, and Miles resisted the urge to shift under her scrutiny.
Finally, Page shrugged, her smirk returning. "You're a strange one, newbie," she said, turning back toward the factory floor. "But I like strange. It keeps things interesting. Let's go."
Miles followed Page into a smaller room tucked away at the end of the bustling factory. The space was cluttered with tools, wires, and half-finished gadgets scattered across metal tables. At the centre, a bald boy with oversized goggles perched on his head was hunched over a device, his fingers moving with rapid precision as he worked. His concentration was so intense that he didn't even glance up when they entered.
Page smirked mischievously and crept up behind him. Without warning, she smacked the back of his head with her palm.
"Ah! What the hell, Page?!" the boy yelped, rubbing the spot as he turned to glare at her.
Page giggled, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You should've known better than to let your guard down. Being observant is kind of your job, isn't it?"
"What are you even doing here?" the boy shot back, his annoyance evident. "I thought you were—" He froze mid-sentence, his gaze landing on Miles. His eyes narrowed suspiciously behind the thick lenses of his goggles. "And who's this guy?"
Page let out an exaggerated sigh, crossing her arms. "Ray, you are useless. I should fire you."
Ray frowned, adjusting his goggles. "First of all, you don't even pay me, so good luck with that. Second—" He jabbed a thumb in Miles's direction. "Who is he, and why is he standing there looking like he's about to steal something?"
Miles stayed quiet, his eyes darting around the room, scanning every corner. Where the hell could that device El talked about be? he wondered, doing his best to look inconspicuous.
Ray leaned closer, squinting at the gold P crest pinned to Miles's coat. His expression shifted to one of realisation. "Wait a second… I don't know everyone I send those scrolls to, but I know how to identify the names on their crests."
"What did you just say?" Miles blurted, his attention snapping to the two of them. His heart raced as the pieces of their conversation began to fall into place.
Ray adjusted his goggles again, his confidence growing. "The gold P crests? Each one has a name embedded into its design. It's like a unique signature. It's how we track who's on our side." He smirked at Miles, his tone turning smug. "So, care to explain who you are, newbie? Because I've got a feeling you're not exactly one of us."
Miles's pulse quickened, panic surging through his veins. Damn it. His mind raced, but he forced himself to speak, his voice tight with forced calm. "Did you just say you're the one who gives the crests out?" he asked, his tone edged with confusion.
Ray raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he reached behind him and grabbed a sleek, metallic tablet. "Yeah, that's what I said," he replied casually. "And it's my job to keep track of who gets them. Watch and learn."
Before Miles could respond, Ray held up the tablet and aimed it toward him. A soft hum filled the air as the device scanned the gold P crest pinned to Miles's coat. Miles felt a bead of sweat trickle down the back of his neck.
The tablet emitted a sharp beep, and an automated voice spoke, clear and mechanical:
"Crest identification complete. Owner: Gale Astralith."
The room fell silent, the weight of those words hanging heavily in the air.
Miles froze, his heart plummeting into his stomach. His hand shot up to cover his face as a wave of frustration and regret crashed over him. "Shit… what have I done?" he muttered under his breath, his fingers pressing against his temple.