The Temple of Gears was not a building. It was an open wound in the earth.
Located twenty miles north of the city, in a jagged canyon known as the Rust Gulch, the headquarters of the Techno-Cult looked like a mechanical cancer growing out of the rock. Massive smokestacks belched black soot into the starless night sky. Piles of scavenged metal—arms of droids, engines of tanks, ribs of old ships—were stacked like bones in a graveyard.
Ciro parked his stolen sand-skiff a mile away, hiding it behind a dune.
He checked his wristpad. [SUIT BATTERY: 45%][OXYGEN IN CITY: 3 HOURS REMAINING]
"Tick tock," Ciro muttered, pulling his black helmet on. The cracked visor distorted his vision slightly, but it was better than breathing the toxic smog filling the canyon.
He didn't walk through the front gate, which was guarded by two hulking brutes with chainsaws grafted onto their arms. Instead, Ciro climbed.
Using the magnetic grips of his suit, he scaled the sheer canyon wall, moving like a shadow against the dark rock. Below him, the sound of the cultists echoed—a rhythmic, metallic chanting that sounded like grinding gears and tortured metal.
"Clank. Whir. Hiss. Praise the Machine. Flesh is weak. Steel is eternal."
Ciro reached a massive ventilation exhaust high on the cliff face. It was spewing hot, oily steam. The fan blades were spinning too fast to pass.
He pulled a small disc from his belt—a low-yield EMP charge. He stuck it to the fan housing.
ZZZT.
The fan sputtered and ground to a halt. Ciro slipped through the gap, dropping into the belly of the beast.
Inside the Temple
The heat was suffocating. The air smelled of burnt oil, ozone, and cauterized flesh.
Ciro moved along the rusted rafters of a massive factory floor. Below him, hundreds of Cultists were working in a hellish assembly line.
They were a grotesque sight. Unlike the Scavengers who just wore armor, the Techno-Cultists became armor. Most had replaced their limbs with crude hydraulics. Some had replaced their eyes with red sensory lenses. They didn't look like humans anymore; they looked like projects abandoned halfway through assembly.
In the center of the room, a massive furnace roared. The Cultists were throwing books, paintings, and wooden furniture into the fire—sacrificing "organic trash" to feed the engine.
"Maniacs," Ciro whispered.
He scanned the room with his HUD. He wasn't looking for people. He was looking for energy.
[SCANNING...][HIGH ENERGY SIGNATURE DETECTED: NORTH SECTOR. THE SANCTUM.]
"Bingo."
Ciro moved across the rafters, silent as a ghost. He dropped down into a dark corridor leading to the Sanctum, avoiding a patrol of drone-spiders—crude, rusted copies of the pristine ones in Elara's city.
He reached a heavy iron door. It was locked with a bio-metric keypad.
Ciro didn't hack it. He didn't have the time or the skill.
He placed a Micro-Thermite Charge on the hinges.
Fzzzt.
The charge burned through the metal silently. Ciro caught the heavy door before it could fall, lowering it gently to the floor.
He stepped inside.
The Sanctum was surprisingly clean. The walls were lined with servers blinking with green lights. In the center of the room, suspended in a magnetic containment field, was a glowing orange sphere about the size of a basketball.
The Ignition Core.
It hummed with raw, unstable power. It was beautiful.
But it wasn't unguarded.
Standing before the Core was a figure draped in red robes embroidered with copper wire. He was tall, thin, and floated slightly off the ground—his legs had been replaced by a hover-chassis. Four mechanical arms extended from his back, each holding a different tool: a welder, a saw, a claw, and a datapad.
Grand Artificer Vex. The leader of the Cult.
"I expected you," Vex said. His voice didn't come from a mouth, but from a speaker grilled into his throat. "The energy wave from the south... it was magnificent. A God woke up."
He turned around. His face was a mask of gold and wires, no human skin visible.
"And now, the God sends its pet to steal from me."
Ciro stepped out of the shadows, drawing his twin vibro-blades. The metal hummed, contrasting with the orange glow of the Core.
"I'm not a pet," Ciro said, his voice modulated and cold. "I'm the eviction notice. Hand over the Core, tin man."
Vex laughed—a static-filled sound like a broken radio.
"You think you can take the Heart of the Machine?" Vex raised his four mechanical arms. "We built the Titan you destroyed. Do you think we are defenseless?"
CLICK.
From the shadows of the room, six shapes emerged.
They were Praetorians—elite guards. They were barely human. Their bodies were fully encased in heavy plate armor, and their hands were replaced with rapid-fire rivet guns.
"Flesh fails," Vex intoned. "Iron endures. Kill him. Harvest his suit."
The Praetorians opened fire.
BANG-BANG-BANG.
Rivets—red-hot metal spikes—filled the air.
Ciro didn't wait. He triggered his suit's Overclock Mode.
For ten seconds, his servos pushed past their limits. His speed doubled.
He became a blur. He slid under the first volley of rivets, sparks showering his helmet. He vaulted off a server rack, landing on the shoulders of the first Praetorian.
SLASH.
His mono-filament dagger cut through the cyborg's neck cables like butter. Oil and blood sprayed.
Ciro kicked off the falling body, throwing his second dagger in mid-air. It pierced the sensory lens of the second guard, dropping him instantly.
"Impressive tech," Vex commented calmly, watching his guards die. "Old War design. Poly-Weave fiber. I must study it."
One of Vex's mechanical arms shot out. It wasn't a claw—it was a taser whip.
It caught Ciro's ankle mid-jump.
ZAP.
"ARGH!"
Electricity surged through the stealth suit, overloading the dampeners. Ciro crashed to the ground, his muscles locking up. Smoke rose from his joints.
Vex floated over him. He raised a buzz-saw arm.
"The Queen is dying, isn't she?" Vex mocked. "We saw the city go dark. Without this Core, she suffocates. How poetic. The Goddess of Glass, choked by her own silence."
Ciro gritted his teeth, fighting the paralysis. His hand inched toward his belt. Not for a weapon. For a remote detonator.
"She isn't dying," Ciro spat, his vision swimming. "She's just... waiting for the delivery."
He slammed his thumb on the button.
[SIGNAL SENT.]
Earlier, in the rafters, Ciro hadn't just watched. He had planted a hacking spike on one of the heavy Loader Droids hanging on the assembly line.
BOOM.
The heavy steel doors of the Sanctum burst open.
A massive, rusted Loader Droid lumbered in. Its safety protocols were disabled. Its directive was simple: DESTROY EVERYTHING.
"INTRUDER ALERT," the Droid boomed, swinging a steel girder. It smashed two Praetorians into paste against the wall.
"What?!" Vex panicked, his sensors overwhelmed. "Control that unit! Reboot it!"
The droid ignored him and charged Vex, swinging wildly.
Ciro used the chaos. He forced his body to move, rolling toward the magnetic field.
He grabbed the Ignition Core with both hands.
It was hot. It burned his gloves. The magnetic field resisted, pulling at his bones. With a roar of effort, he ripped it free.
[WARNING: CORE UNSTABLE.]
"Time to go!" Ciro yelled.
He threw a smoke grenade at his feet and sprinted for the hole the Droid had made, grappling up into the ventilation shaft.
Below him, Vex sliced the Loader Droid in half with his saw, screaming in binary rage.
"YOU CANNOT RUN!" Vex shrieked, his voice echoing up the shaft. "THE SKY KNIGHTS ARE COMING! THEY HEARD THE SIGNAL! THEY WILL BURN YOU ALL!"
Ciro reached the roof, the glowing Core clutched to his chest like a baby. He looked at the horizon.
Far to the East, high above the smog clouds, he saw them.
Lights. Formation lights.
Shapes moving in the sky like sharks.
Airships. The Royal Sky Fleet.
"Vex was right," Ciro whispered, dread settling in his stomach heavier than the Core. "We woke up the neighbors."
He jumped off the roof, sliding down the canyon wall to his bike. He had the Core. He could save the city.
But the war had just moved from the ground to the sky.