They came to a colossal, vertical shaft. Unlike the chaotic one they'd ridden down, this was silent, lined with magnetic rails. Kalea pressed a brass device into a slot on the wall, and a sleek, iron-clad carriage rose on an unseen force.
"Phobos is layered like a subterranean onion," Kalea explained as they stepped inside. "We're on the Superior Border, the administrative section. The Foundry is deep below, near the geothermal stabilizers. It's an eight-minute descent."
As the carriage began to glide downward, Doric finally spoke, his voice low and troubled. "Phrixus won't stay outside forever. He's lethal, but he's also proud. He knows the Core is the key to the Syndicate's mechanical dictatorship. When the Spire's automated systems realize that the Core is gone and the Zeus Protocol is locked out, Phrixus will do the next most logical thing: he will seek an ally here, someone compromised by the Syndicate's creed of 'logic over emotion,' and turn them into his hunting dog."
"Phobos has no traitors," Kalea said firmly, but her eyes held a flicker of doubt. "The Scholars are protected by the Abyss itself."
"The Abyss protects nothing, Kalea," Doric countered, looking at Josh. "It just hides things."
Josh looked at the walls of the magnetic elevator shaft as they descended. The walls were not uniform; they were inlaid with hundreds of small, brass plaques, each engraved with a single word or phrase. HESITATION. COMPASSION. IMPERFECTION. He realized they were philosophical warnings.
"It's a moral compass," Josh observed. "The Syndicate's logic is perfect, but brittle. It's built on the idea that emotion is a flaw. The Iron Scholars are reminding themselves that it's the human element—the imperfection—that protects them."
Kalea nodded. "The Syndicate believes in a Synthetic Governance Protocol—a mechanical dictatorship. The Scholars believe in Controlled Imperfection. Their theory is that only a system with built-in flaws can survive a catastrophic logical paradox, like the one we've just created."
The conversation continued, a blend of philosophy and engineering that settled Josh's frantic heart. This was his element. He was processing data, not dodging maces.
"So, what is the Core's status?" Josh asked, focusing on the problem. "My resonance trick bought us time, but it means the Core is currently running at a level it can't sustain. It's essentially a fusion reactor with its safety protocols disabled."
Kalea tapped the metallic compartment on her back. "The shell is shielding the immediate area, but the energy is bleeding out into the city's magnetic field. That's why our descent is so smooth. The city is involuntarily regulating the overflow. It's working with us, but it's a temporary fix. The Core needs a Temporal Stabilizer Array. That's what the Iron Scholars designed—a small, highly complex device that acts as a shunt, redirecting the Core's excess energy into the deep geothermal vents, thus stabilizing its output. Once stabilized, its energy can be used to restart the Zeus Protocol without overloading the Promachonos."
"And where is this Temporal Stabilizer Array?"
"It's in the Foundry," Kalea said. "But it's incomplete. It needs to be calibrated to your Core's resonance signature. It needs the touch of the Strategos—the one who understands the Core's unique frequency, the one who carried it across dimensions."
The carriage stopped with a gentle clink. The doors opened onto a vast, brightly lit chamber carved from solid, black rock. This was the Foundry of the Void. It was quiet, dominated by the rhythmic, low hum of powerful machinery and the gentle flicker of thousands of small, specialized gas lamps. It looked less like a military bunker and more like a university's experimental physics lab.
In the center of the chamber, three figures worked around a large, rotating piece of brass machinery. They wore no armor, only heavy, leather-aprons over simple tunics, their arms covered in grease and soot. They were the Iron Scholars.
As Josh, Doric, and Kalea stepped out, the scholars stopped working and turned, their faces calm, their eyes intelligent and welcoming. They were philosophers, mechanics, and engineers all at once.
The lead scholar, a woman with iron-grey hair pulled back tight, approached them. Her hands, though covered in machine oil, were delicate and precise.
"Welcome, Kalea," she said, her voice rich and steady. "And welcome, Strategos." She looked directly at Josh, recognizing the truth in his transmigrated body. "We felt the surge. The Chronos System registered a temporal-spatial anomaly just as the Promachonos Spire went into hard lockdown. You are the variable we have waited for."
Josh felt an overwhelming sense of relief. For the first time since landing in this impossible, floating city, he was among people who spoke his language—the language of logic, physics, and controlled variables.
"We need the Temporal Stabilizer Array," Josh stated simply, walking toward the central brass apparatus. "The Core is running hot. I need to calibrate the resonance shunt now."
The lead scholar's eyes softened with understanding. "Indeed. The Core is a weapon in its current state. We will provide the stable hand of Phobos. The Stabilizer is ready for the final configuration. But we have a more immediate problem, Strategos." She paused, then gestured to a small, secondary apparatus resting on a nearby workbench—an intricate, silver-and-bronze device that looked like a complex navigational instrument.
"The Syndicate's 'maintenance protocol' is persistent. Phrixus has successfully bypassed the outer quarantine and has entered the Phobos system. We have secured the major vertical transports, but he is a hunter. He will follow your energy signature until he reaches you. And he has already begun looking for a weakness in our logic."
"How?" Doric demanded, gripping his club. "He can't breach this deep without a massive force."
The scholar pointed at the silver device. "Phrixus is not using force. He is using logic. He has found the Achilles' heel of our system of Controlled Imperfection: our Abyssal Compass. We created a magnetic-resonance map of the Abyss to navigate the geothermal fluctuations. He is trying to use it to triangulate your position through the Core's energy bleed. He knows you are the key, and he is coming for you, not with an army, but with absolute certainty."
Josh stared at the compass. The calm adventure had begun, but the ultimate confrontation was still inevitable. He knew, as an engineer, that every system has a vulnerability. And Phrixus, the Iron-Bound assassin, was simply exploiting the most elegant flaw in the Iron Scholars' design. The only way to win now was not to fight the logic, but to re-engineer it.