The descent into the foundations of the Guild of Fragrance felt like crawling down the throat of a sleeping beast. Silas and his Cog-Wraiths moved with mechanical silence their brass joints muffled by oil soaked rags. Behind them Rhane and her rogue werewolves stayed low to the ground their predatory breathing suppressed. At the front was the Mad Jester his porcelain mask glowing faintly in the subterranean darkness and his bells wrapped in silk to prevent even the slightest chime.
The air here was suffocatingly dense. As they bypassed the massive lead pipes of the upper levels the scent changed from the sterile eucalyptus of the Guild to something much more visceral. It was a salty metallic aroma that made Cassians throat tighten. It smelled of old grief and the stagnant air of a hospital.
We are close Silas whispered his mechanical eye whirring as he pointed to a reinforced steel door. This is the entrance to the Vault of Tears. The sensors here dont look for movement they look for a heartbeat that isnt synchronized with the Guilds frequency.
The Mad Jester stepped forward his hand with the quill tattoo pulsing. He reached into the air and began to pull. Using the Wind of Souls he gathered the stray scents of the surrounding stone and metal weaving them into a shroud around his team. He was creating an olfactory illusion making the sensors believe that the hallway was empty of anything living.
The steel doors groaned and slid open revealing a sight that made even Rhane growl in disgust.
The vault was a vast cathedral of glass. Thousands of crystalline tubes ran from the ceiling into large silver vats. Inside the tubes was a clear shimmering liquid that moved with a slow unnatural rhythm. This wasnt chemical or magical essence. It was human sorrow in its rawest form.
The Elder Brother isnt just harvesting despair Rhane said her fur bristling. He is refining it.
The Mad Jester skipped toward one of the vats his head tilting as he sniffed the vapor rising from the glass. It is a catalyst he whispered his manic voice dropping to a cold realization. They take the tears of the city and mix them with the Primeval Blood. The sorrow of the humans acts as a bridge allowing the monsters of the Night Syndicates to touch the power of the Aetheric Seal without being consumed by the void.
Silas began to set his clockwork explosives around the base of the distillation towers. If we blow this the Guild loses its control over the Syndicates. The vampires and werewolves wont be able to use the seals power anymore.
But as Silas reached for the final detonator the lights in the vault flared into a blinding clinical white.
A low rhythmic clapping echoed through the chamber. From behind the central vat the Elder Brother emerged. He looked younger now his skin smooth and his eyes glowing with a terrifying silver light. He had been drinking from the vats.
A masterful performance Cassian the Elder Brother said his voice echoing like thunder in the enclosed space. You bring a pack of dogs and a few broken men to the heart of my empire. Did you really think I wouldnt smell you coming.
The Mad Jester didn't flinch. He reached for a glass sphere filled with a volatile concentrated acid. The joke is on you Elder Brother. You are drinking the dreams of a girl who wants to wake up. Do you really think you can bottle a god.
The Elder Brother laughed and the silver light in his eyes flared. I am not bottling her Cassian. I am becoming her. With the refined sorrow of this city I have built a throne that even the First King would envy.
He raised his hand and a wave of concentrated despair hit the team. It wasnt a physical blow but a psychic one. Silas fell to his knees his mechanical eye sparking as he was overwhelmed by memories of failure. Rhane and her pack began to howl in agony as the scent of their own extinctions filled their nostrils.
The Mad Jester felt the wave hit him too. He saw the faces of everyone he had failed. He felt the weight of every mask he had ever worn. But then the quill tattoo on his hand burned with a cold blue fire.
The girl in the starlight was watching.
He inhaled the despair and instead of lettting it break him he used the Wind of Souls to transform it. He turned the scent of sorrow into the scent of a storm.
Not today Elder Brother the Mad Jester shouted.
He smashed the acid sphere against the central vat. The glass shattered and the shimmering liquid began to pour out across the floor. The moment the refined tears touched the air they reacted with the Mad Jesters storm-scent creating a violent chemical chain reaction.
The vault began to shake. Silas recovered enough to trigger the clockwork explosives.
Run the Mad Jester commanded his voice a roar that cut through the chaos.
As the team scrambled back toward the exit the distillation towers began to collapse. The silver liquid turned into a raging flood of blue fire consuming everything it touched. The Elder Brother screamed as his throne of glass disintegrated but the Mad Jester didn't stay to watch.
They burst through the steel doors just as the entire foundation of the Guild of Fragrance groaned in a massive tectonic shift. The explosion was silent but the shockwave was felt by every soul in Bloom of Misery.
On the street above the Guilds massive silver vents began to cough out thick black smoke. The smell of eucalyptus was gone replaced by the scent of a world that had just broken its chains.
Cassian pulled the mask off his face and looked at the burning Guild. They had destroyed the factory but he knew the war was just beginning. The Syndicates were now without their stabilizers and the Elder Brother if he had survived would be a monster unlike anything the city had seen.
He looked at Rhane and Silas. They were exhausted but their eyes were clear.
The first act is over Cassian said looking up at the gray sky. Now let us see who survives the intermission.
He felt a faint cold breeze brush against his cheek. It smelled like rain on warm stone. The girl in the starlight was pleased.