The maintenance tunnel opened up into a wall of noise and stench.
Ravi stepped out onto a rusted metal catwalk and looked down. The Under-City.
It was a canyon of misery. The sky was blocked by a ceiling of thick, interlaced pipes that dripped black oil like rain. Below, thousands of shacks made of corrugated iron were stacked on top of each other, lit by flickering neon signs in sickly yellow and green. Steam hissed from everywhere. The people walking the streets looked half-starved, their limbs replaced by crude, clunky mechanical prosthetics.
"This place..." Musashi's voice curled in Ravi's mind. "It has no soul. It is a graveyard of iron."
"It's a cage," Lyra corrected, though she couldn't hear the spirit. She pulled her goggles down over her eyes. "Welcome to Sector 7. The armpit of the Kingdom."
Bit, the tiny drone, hovered nervously close to Lyra's shoulder, letting out a low whirrr.
Ravi scanned the crowd. [NPC: GEARLESS BEGGAR - LVL 2] [NPC: STEAM-DRONE WORKER - LVL 4]
Where can we sell this?" Ravi tapped the heavy bag of Steam-Knight gear he was carrying. "I need currency. And I need a weapon that isn't a kitchen knife."
Lyra pointed toward a structure that looked like a giant severed robot head turned into a shop. Neon letters buzzed above it: [RUSTY'S PARTS & HEARTS].
"Old Rusty," Lyra said. "He's a crook, a liar, and he smells like battery acid. But he doesn't ask questions."
__________________________________________________________________________________________________
The inside of the shop was a claustrophobic maze of hanging wires and shelves packed with gears. Behind a counter made of welded car doors sat a man. Old Rusty. He was more machine than man. His left arm was a hydraulic claw, and his right eye had been replaced by a red camera lens that zoomed in and out with a sickening click-click-click.
[NPC: OLD RUSTY (BLACK MARKET FENCE)] [LEVEL: 12]
"Lyra," Rusty grunted, his voice sounding like gravel in a blender. "You owe me 500 Gears for that coil I gave you last week."
"I brought you something better," Lyra said, nudging Ravi forward.
Ravi dumped the bag on the counter. Three Steam-Rifles. Three sets of Brass Armor (one damaged). And a pristine Gas Mask.
Rusty's red eye spun. He picked up a rifle with his claw. "Knight gear," he whispered. "Sector 4 markings. This is hot property, boy. If the patrols find this here, they'll melt me down for scrap."
"That's why I'm selling it cheap," Ravi said calmly. "How much?"
Rusty leaned back, crossing his metal arms. "Risk is high. Demand is low. I'll give you... 200 Gears."
Lyra gasped. "200?! That rifle alone is worth 1,000!"
"Take it or leave it," Rusty sneered, his claw twitching toward a shotgun under the counter. "You gearless rats don't have many options."
Ravi didn't blink. He tapped his belt. "Musashi."
SHING.
The Shadow Fang—the black dagger—didn't just appear; it leaped from Ravi's belt. It floated in the air, glowing with a ghostly blue aura. The blade hovered exactly one inch from Rusty's remaining organic eye.
Rusty froze. His red camera lens widened in terror. "Ps-Psionic?" he stammered. "You're a Mage?"
"My friend has a temper," Ravi said, leaning over the counter. "He hates lowball offers. He thinks they are... insulting."
The dagger vibrated, letting out a high-pitched hum. "Let me take the eye," Musashi whispered to Ravi. "It is ugly anyway."
"1,500 Gears," Ravi said. "And a map of the Titan-Works Factory."
Rusty swallowed hard. Sweat beaded on his greasy forehead. "D-Deal. Just... put the ghost away."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter 5: The Market of Rust
The maintenance tunnel opened up into a wall of noise and stench.
Ravi stepped out onto a rusted metal catwalk and looked down. The Under-City.
It was a canyon of misery. The sky was blocked by a ceiling of thick, interlaced pipes that dripped black oil like rain. Below, thousands of shacks made of corrugated iron were stacked on top of each other, lit by flickering neon signs in sickly yellow and green. Steam hissed from everywhere. The people walking the streets looked half-starved, their limbs replaced by crude, clunky mechanical prosthetics.
"This place..." Musashi's voice curled in Ravi's mind. "It has no soul. It is a graveyard of iron."
"It's a cage," Lyra corrected, though she couldn't hear the spirit. She pulled her goggles down over her eyes. "Welcome to Sector 7. The armpit of the Kingdom."
Bit, the tiny drone, hovered nervously close to Lyra's shoulder, letting out a low whirrr.
Ravi scanned the crowd. [NPC: GEARLESS BEGGAR - LVL 2] [NPC: STEAM-DRONE WORKER - LVL 4]
"Where can we sell this?" Ravi tapped the heavy bag of Steam-Knight gear he was carrying. "I need currency. And I need a weapon that isn't a kitchen knife."
Lyra pointed toward a structure that looked like a giant severed robot head turned into a shop. Neon letters buzzed above it: [RUSTY'S PARTS & HEARTS].
"Old Rusty," Lyra said. "He's a crook, a liar, and he smells like battery acid. But he doesn't ask questions."
The inside of the shop was a claustrophobic maze of hanging wires and shelves packed with gears. Behind a counter made of welded car doors sat a man. Old Rusty. He was more machine than man. His left arm was a hydraulic claw, and his right eye had been replaced by a red camera lens that zoomed in and out with a sickening click-click-click.
[NPC: OLD RUSTY (BLACK MARKET FENCE)] [LEVEL: 12]
"Lyra," Rusty grunted, his voice sounding like gravel in a blender. "You owe me 500 Gears for that coil I gave you last week."
"I brought you something better," Lyra said, nudging Ravi forward.
Ravi dumped the bag on the counter. Three Steam-Rifles. Three sets of Brass Armor (one damaged). And a pristine Gas Mask.
Rusty's red eye spun. He picked up a rifle with his claw. "Knight gear," he whispered. "Sector 4 markings. This is hot property, boy. If the patrols find this here, they'll melt me down for scrap."
"That's why I'm selling it cheap," Ravi said calmly. "How much?"
Rusty leaned back, crossing his metal arms. "Risk is high. Demand is low. I'll give you... 200 Gears."
Lyra gasped. "200?! That rifle alone is worth 1,000!"
"Take it or leave it," Rusty sneered, his claw twitching toward a shotgun under the counter. "You gearless rats don't have many options."
Ravi didn't blink. He tapped his belt. "Musashi."
SHING.
The Shadow Fang—the black dagger—didn't just appear; it leaped from Ravi's belt. It floated in the air, glowing with a ghostly blue aura. The blade hovered exactly one inch from Rusty's remaining organic eye.
Rusty froze. His red camera lens widened in terror. "Ps-Psionic?" he stammered. "You're a Mage?"
"My friend has a temper," Ravi said, leaning over the counter. "He hates lowball offers. He thinks they are... insulting."
The dagger vibrated, letting out a high-pitched hum. "Let me take the eye," Musashi whispered to Ravi. "It is ugly anyway."
"1,500 Gears," Ravi said. "And a map of the Titan-Works Factory."
Rusty swallowed hard. Sweat beaded on his greasy forehead. "D-Deal. Just... put the ghost away."
Ten minutes later, they walked out with a heavy pouch of coins and a rolled-up blueprint.
[CURRENCY ACQUIRED: 1,500 GEARS] [ITEM ACQUIRED: FACTORY BLUEPRINT (SECTOR 1)]
"You're crazy," Lyra whispered, looking at Ravi with wide eyes. "You just threatened Rusty inside his own shop. He has turrets in the ceiling!"
"Turrets are slow," Ravi said, tossing her a pouch of 500 Gears. "Here. Your cut."
Lyra caught the money, stunned. "Why?"
"I need a guide. You need to pay debts."
Before Lyra could answer, a siren began to wail. It wasn't the police siren. It was deeper. Like a war horn. The entire street froze. Beggars stopped begging. Workers stopped walking. They all looked up at the massive monitors attached to the ceiling pipes.
[ATTENTION CITIZENS.] [MANDATORY BROADCAST.]
Static cleared on the screens to reveal a face. It was a man in his forties, with a jawline sharp enough to cut glass and cold, dead eyes. He wore pristine white military uniform, but over it, he wore a massive, bulky chest-piece made of Solid Gold. Steam vented from the shoulders of the armor in rhythmic puffs.
[NPC: COMMANDER VANE] [LEVEL: 25] [TITLE: THE IRON TYRANT]
Ravi's eyes locked onto the screen. Specifically, onto the glowing blue core embedded in Vane's golden chest plate. The Titan Heart.
[SYSTEM ALERT] [KEY ITEM DETECTED: S-RANK MANA ENGINE.] [REQUIRED FOR UNLOCKING: SEAT 2 - OMEGA.]
"Citizens of Sector 7," Vane spoke. His voice was smooth, cultured, and terrifying. "Production quotas are down 12% this week. This is unacceptable."
The camera panned out. Vane was standing on a balcony overlooking the factory floor. Below him, hundreds of workers were chained to machines. Next to Vane, a kneeling man was sobbing.
"Please!" the man cried. "My arm... it was crushed! I can't work!"
"Flesh is weak," Vane said, almost gently. "Flesh breaks. Flesh tires. Flesh complains."
Vane raised his hand. His glove was a massive, steam-powered gauntlet. He grabbed the crying man by the head. "But Steel? Steel is eternal."
CRUNCH.
The screen went black for a second, then returned. The man was gone. In his place stood a Steam-Drone—a mindless robot with a human brain inside a glass jar on its head.
"We will increase efficiency," Vane smiled. "Starting tonight, we will begin the 'Upgrade Program' for all citizens in Block 9."
The broadcast ended. The street was silent. The fear in the air was thick enough to taste.
Lyra dropped the bag of coins. Her face was pale. "Block 9..." she whispered. "That's where they took Kael."
"Your brother?" Ravi asked.
Lyra nodded, tears forming in her eyes. "He... he's just a kid. He's not strong enough for the conversion. If they put him in a Drone suit, he'll die." She looked at Ravi. The fear was gone, replaced by desperation. "Ravi. You have a magic sword. You killed those Knights. Please. Help me get him out."
Ravi looked at the Blueprint in his hand. He looked at the towering smokestacks of the Titan-Works Factory in the distance. And he remembered the blue glow of the Heart in Vane's chest.
"I need something from Vane, too," Ravi said, his eyes cold. He tightened his grip on the Shadow Fang.
"We aren't just getting your brother out, Lyra." "We're going to burn that factory to the ground."