The rain in Ferrum City didn't fall; it felt engineered. It was a greasy, metallic drizzle, a liquid smog that tasted like copper and felt like oil on the skin. Jax Arclight sat atop a rusted shipping crate in the Shadow District, his hood pulled low as he watched the neon towers of the skyline pierce through the haze.
Far below, the Brownout District struggled to mimic that glow. Its streets were illuminated by flickering amber lamps—not as faded as the slums of the Shadow District, but certainly not as luxurious as the spires above. In Ferrum, most people spent their entire lives digging for the very minerals that powered the luxury they would never touch.
Jax looked down at the silver pendant in his hand. It was a jagged, crystal-sized structure with a deep blue emerald embedded in the center. It hummed faintly, a pulse that resonated in his fingertips. Sensing someone approaching, he quickly slipped it into the right pocket of his white jacket.
"Jax," a soft voice whispered near his ear. "I've been looking for you this whole time. Why are you sitting out here in the dark?"
Jax didn't turn. He kept his gaze fixed on the neon horizon. "What's the matter, Yuna?"
"There's a problem," she said, her voice dropping an octave. "Professor Dallas has summoned you to his workshop. Immediately."
Jax finally shifted. His eyes—deep and blue like a restless ocean—met Yuna's. "At last," he muttered. "The old man usually hates being interrupted when he's in the middle of an invention. For him to call me... it must be finished."
Yuna nodded, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. Her short blonde hair caught the faint glow of the city lights. "You know how he is. He's practically vibrating with excitement."
Jax didn't need a second invitation. He stood up and, with the practiced grace of a street-runner, vaulted off the crate, landing acrobatically on the damp pavement in front of her.
"Then let's not keep him waiting," Jax said, his hand subconsciously brushing the pendant in his pocket. "If Dallas is calling, the city is about to get a lot louder."
They ducked into a narrow alleyway, moving through the shadows toward the industrial heart of the district. Behind them, the metallic rain continued to hiss against the rusted metal of the city, masking the sound of their retreating footsteps.