Kain stared at the half-machine, half-man figure before him.
Dorian Anvil. His old go-to blacksmith. Body half-consumed by armour and artificial nerves, face fused into a chassis that pulsed with spiritual circuits.
The room was silent save for the faint hum of power through the various wires around the room.
Kain's mouth felt dry.
He finally found his voice. "That relic you fell into… you said it was in Brightstar?"
Dorian's eye flickered slightly. "Aye. Brightstar outskirts. Before I think the city officials even knew it was there."
Kain felt a chill climb up his spine, cold and spindly. His thoughts turned, gears clicking into place.
The same relic.
He remembered it now, vividly. Perhaps one of the most traumatic missions he'd ever been on burned into his mind.
