Chapter 2: The Station

  When I woke up, I found myself lying on a cold, metallic bench inside a holding cell.

  A dull ache pulsed through my stomach, and my head throbbed – all reminders of Devin’s unnecessary use of violence.

  I sat up groggily and immediately noticed I wasn’t alone.

  Two others were in the cell.

  One was a man pacing back and forth, muttering under his breath. He looked in his thirties. His brown hair short, his facial hair trimmed carefully, stylistically. He wore what must have once been fine garments – a dark blue vest with bronze buttons with matching trousers, and a high-collared white shirt, both streaked with dirt and oil marks. His cravat had come undone and dangled messily. Judging by the streaks of dirt on his shirt, I’d say he’d taken a fall – probably hadn’t seen it coming.

  If we weren’t in Orlinth, I would assume he was a Skyhaven resident – he looked rich. But those snobs had no real reason to come down here, so that likely wasn’t it.

  The other resident was a woman curled in the corner of the cell, hugging her knees. Her eyes were wide and glazed, flicking from side to side like she was seeing things no one else could. She didn’t speak. Just rocked gently and in rhythm. When her eyes met mine, she immediately stopped moving. The second I moved my gaze away, she resumed her fidgeting routine.

  My right wrist felt bare.

  My COG was gone. Confiscated.

  The Expo!

  I shot to my feet, heart hammering, and rushed to the bars.

  “What’s the time?” I shouted into the hallway, but the station outside was silent – the desk in front of the cell unoccupied. No Ironwatch member in sight.

  “It’s morning.” The pacing man stopped in place and looked at me before speaking. “Yeah, those bastards shouldn’t be back for a while. Said something about a – what did they call it? Oh, right – a retirement send-off cake party for Major something-something.”

  My eyes widened.

  Morning?! I was out cold for the entire night?!

  “I can’t stay in here another second! I have to get to Skyhaven as soon as possible!”

  The man looked me up and down, scanning every detail of my attire, not even trying to be subtle about it. “You don’t look like a Skyhaven resident…”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m not. But my invention is being presented in the Annual Expo today.”

  “Oh, so an inventor?” He raised an eyebrow, seemingly impressed.

  I nodded, even though the question sounded so stupid. Of course I’m an inventor – I literally just told you that.

  The man lifted a hand in a calming gesture. “No worries. I can tell you the time.”

  He reached into the pocket of his vest, then froze and grimaced. “Oh, unbelievable…Those imbeciles took even my pocket watch.”

  I exhaled sharply through my nose, just slightly annoyed. “Well…obviously.”

  His eyes narrowed while his tone became biting. “Not your first time in a cell, I assume?”

  I shook my head, glancing beyond the bars. “Unfortunately, no.”

  “Figures.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, raising an eyebrow, my head snapping back to him.

  “You heard me.”

  I sighed, long and deep. I wasn’t going to fight him over it – I didn’t even know how to throw a punch. And I was already in a cell. Better to let it slide.

  I turned back to the bars, pressed my face against them, and shouted again. “Hey! Is anybody there?!”

  “Shut up, Halegrim.”

  I stepped back instantly.

  Devin stepped into view from the far hallway.

  Even without the Aetherguard exoskeleton, he still looked intimidating – tall, broad-shouldered, visibly muscular.

  He was wearing a simple gray undershirt tucked into a black pair of trousers, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his COG on his left forearm. His skin was pale, and his short blond hair was swept back. There was always something too clean about him. Ironic, considering the dirty piece of shit he was.

  He walked with lazy confidence, flashing his signature sadistic grin the moment he reached the cell.

  “Great, you’re here. Now release me this instant.” The pacing man demanded. “And make sure all my belongings are returned undamaged. My pocket watch alone costs more than this entire station.”

  Devin burst into laughter. “Don’t worry, Mr. Leighton. Your identity is being confirmed as we speak. If you truly are a Skyhaven resident like you claim to be, we’ll let you go.”

  So, this guy was a Skyhaven resident…What did he lose down here?

  Then Devin turned to me sharply. “Halegrim, you, on the other hand, are still flagged as a Libra affiliate – until our system says otherwise.”

  My cellmate’s eyes snapped toward me, his expression shifting into something between suspicion and disgust. “He does seem like one of those bastards.”

  My eyes widened. Now I wanted to beat that guy up, but Devin was right there. It would only give him another excuse to hold me in here for longer.

  Officially, Libra was a terrorist organization operating in Solvane for the past few years. They were led by the enigmatic Valdemar. A man whose face no one had ever seen as Valdemar was always wearing a mask. A man whose real voice no one had ever heard as Valdemar used a voice-altering device.

  Libra operated under a yellow flag with a logo of a balanced scale. Their slogans were just as blunt: “Tear down the Tiers”, “True Freedom Through Equality”, among the many.

  They claimed to fight for freedom – freedom from the class structure, from the oligarchs that ruled Solvane from their riches in Skyhaven, and from the system that kept Foundry citizens chained to the mines and factories at the bottom. They preached change for all, especially for those crushed under the weight of the city – literally and socially.

  A noble cause. But their methods…well, that was the problem.

  Getting into Skyhaven was virtually impossible unless you were born there or granted access by the Ascension Board – either permanent or temporary. So, Libra hit strategic targets in the other two levels – mana crystals mines and factories in the Foundry, cargo airship stations leading to Skyhaven, Census Archives and Registries located in Orlinth. Places that mattered to the ruling class but weren’t located on their platform.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  And they didn’t shy away from violence. Bombings. Disruptions. Attacks that killed civilians rather than Ironwatch Enforcers or anyone related to the oligarchy.

  Still, Valdemar called it all “necessary sacrifice” or a “future worth bleeding and dying for”.

  Well, when you’re not the one bleeding or dying, then I guess you would believe in something like that.

  Needless to say, I was not with Libra.

  I let out a sharp breath and turned to Devin. “You know I’m not with Libra.”

  I won’t be surprised if he was the one who had caused the Ironstrider to malfunction in the first place.

  Devin shrugged, smug as I remembered him. “I don’t know anything. And the best part is – I don’t need to. Our system will provide me with an answer sooner or later. Hopefully later.”

  I rolled my eyes, already losing patience. “Look – I need to be in Skyhaven by this evening for the Expo. I don’t know what time it is now, but the participating inventors were instructed to arrive at the morning – to assemble and calibrate our inventions before the showcase begins.”

  “Oh, so you’re an inventor now, huh?” Devin tilted his head, his tone mocking. “Well, that tracks. You always thought you were smart…”

  “Devin, it’s not funny! We’re not in high school anymore.” I shot back.

  Devin shrugged, still grinning. “But it is funny. For me, at least.”

  Then he turned around and walked off, leaving us stewing behind the bars.

  “Libra, huh?” Leighton asked me, eyeing me warily.

  I exhaled, exasperated. “Of course not! This asshole set me up.”

  I wasn’t sure if he believed me – he stayed quiet – but either way, I didn’t care.

  Well, not everything was lost.

  Trent – a friend, and now legally my assistant – should already be in Skyhaven by now. We’d agreed to meet at the Expo at eight. Hopefully, he’d paid enough attention to my rambling to know how to set up the Chrono Quill on his own.

  Leighton was released fifteen minutes later – turns out he was really a Skyhaven resident, though I still had no idea why in the world he had come to Orlinth.

  As for me? After four hours, the station finally admitted the Patrol Unit had malfunctioned, and there was no evidence linking me to Libra.

  They let me go – at noon.

  There was no point complaining. It wouldn’t change anything. The opposite even: it would land me into more trouble which I’m sure Devin was begging to happen – that’s why he physically stumbled upon me on my way out, as if testing me, fishing for a reaction.

  I got my COG back from a bored-looking officer. “There,” he said. “Still works. Try not to get flagged next time. You’ve already been arrested before.”

  I rolled my eyes. As if I had anything to do with this…

  I walked over to the man’s desk and grabbed the device. I strapped it back onto my wrist with the leather bands and brass buckles, setting the main housing against the inner part of my right forearm.

  I checked the glass display for cracks, and the brass buttons for scratches, making sure Devin hadn’t broken anything. Then my eyes dropped to the two ports beneath the screen.

  The left-hand port – the Channel Core – was narrow and steel-lipped. That’s where you loaded the mana crystals assigned to you by your employers. Every citizen was issued the crystal their occupation required – Red for welders, Green for venting crews, Purple for sanitation workers. Mostly, one at a time. You didn’t get to choose. You got what the city gave you. You loaded it, and the COG’s needles would pierce your arm, injecting you with mana, allowing you to use magic with every bit of your body. You used it until your COG burned out the crystal completely – usually no more than five minutes. Simple.

  On the right side was the Integration Port – the real mystery. Well, you could say the entire existence of the COG was a mystery, but this port was the center of it all. It existed to house the Dematerializer – a small attachment used to upgrade COGs. You connected it to the Integration Port, fed the Dematerializer with the needed ingredients – usually different types of metal – and voila – your COG notified you for possible upgrades. It was a black box only the High Technicians of Skyhaven truly understood.

  And just like the government decided how – and to whom – they distributed mana crystals, they also decided who was allowed access to a Dematerializer, making sure that upgrading your COG was something they controlled, not you.

  And so, people like me remained with a low-leveled COG for all of their lives.

  Seeing that everything was intact, I pressed the activation button and waited until the needles pierced my arms once before retracting back – standard process to recognize the user.

  The pain was short and fading.

  When you turned eighteen and received your own COG, it was calibrated to you with a drop of your blood through the Dematerializer, rendering every bracer useless to anyone but its owner.

  Anyone younger, but older than fourteen, on the other hand, received a different COG – a simpler version – mostly to make them used to carrying it before they reached adulthood. Theirs had a lot less functions and wasn’t blood-assigned.

  Finally, the screen lit up.

  [Civic Omni-Gear System]

  [Level: 3]

  [User: Viktor Halegrim]

  [ID: 260604]

  [Address: Garrington St. 134/23, Central-East District, Orlinth]

  [Occupation: Low-tier Inventor]

  [Running Self-Diagnostic…Complete. No malfunctions detected]

  I opened the system interface and navigated to the COG’s Calibration Index, making sure nothing was taken away.

  [Civic Omni-Gear System – Calibration Index]

  [Progress until next Upgrade: 34%]

  1. Consumption – Level 1 / 10

  Responsible for how effectively the device translates ingredients to upgrades.

  2. Burn Rate – Level 1 / 10

  Responsible for how quickly the device consumes a mana crystal.

  3. Overheat – Level 1 / 10

  Responsible for how much strain the device can handle before overheating.

  4. Memory Slots – Level 0 / 10

  Responsible for how many previously loaded crystals the device can store for instant use.

  5. Multi-Channel – Level 0 / 10

  Responsible for how effectively the device can run multiple channels of different mana at once.

  6. Durability – Level 0 / 10

  Responsible for how well the device is protected from external and internal trauma.

  7. Quality – Lvl.0 / 10

  Responsible for how well the device translates the mana crystal into useful mana.

  Well, everything seems intact.

  I had not time to waste anymore.

  I needed to get to Skyhaven immediately.

  Dad was probably worried sick about where I’d been all night, but I didn’t even have time to stop at home. I’d try to contact him from the Expo.

  Now the real question – which way to get there?

  I could try for the Skyhaven Passenger Terminal, but that was a gamble. It mostly existed for the rare cases when Skyhaven elites decided to “grace” Orlinth with their presence…and to bring them back home afterwards. Showing up there, in my current state, could get me stopped – or worse, detained again.

  I glanced at the display on my COG.

  [12:13]

  Seventeen minutes until the next departure. Then a two-hour gap until the one after that.

  Risky. Too risky.

  The other option? The West-Central Orlinth Cargo Dock.

  It wasn’t exactly made for passengers, but they made exceptions. In fact, the authorities preferred it when the invited Orlinthers traveled to Skyhaven this way.

  The airships there were massive beasts built for weight. No seats. No comfort. But a lot cheaper. And they flew frequently.

  Better go with the Cargo Dock.

  I turned on my heel and sprinted toward the Cargo Dock Station.

  On my way there, I took a known shortcut, passing through many abandoned and piss-scented alleys.

  Libra placards were plastered everywhere. They looked clean. Freshly printed. They were likely glued here this night since the Ironwatch usually dismissed of them very quickly.

  One placard caught my eye – a drawing.

  It was bigger than the others, printed in deep reds and blacks. Valdemar stood at the center – masked, as always, wearing that infamous brass helmet with two red glowing eyes, no mouth, no emotion, no COG.

  The leader of Libra looked larger than life.

  Valdemar’s fist was raised – and in the stylized image, he was punching through the Skyhaven platform itself.

  A caption appeared at the bottom of the image – Valdemar, the Destroyer of Heights. And at the top – above his head – “Reclaim the Heavens!”

  I tore my eyes away and resumed running.

  The last thing I needed was to get flagged for watching a placard.