Chapter 1: The Beginning

  Dr. Aresa’s office was as tidy as it gets.

  The walls were of a deep chestnut color, lined with hanging certificates, and one ticking brass clock to the right of her desk.

  A pair of pressure lamps were placed on each side of the room, casting yellow lights that were reflected from the black polished stone floor that was warmed faintly by under-pipe steam flow.

  Her office always smelled funny – a wild combination of metal, verbena and something else – cinnamon, maybe? I couldn’t say for sure.

  Dr. Aresa smiled as I entered, gesturing toward the usual high-backed leather chair opposite hers. “Welcome, Viktor. Please take a seat, I’ll be right with you.”

  She exited the room, leaving me alone.

  My eyes scanned the space instinctively.

  I noticed a few changes since our last session.

  A new desk lamp, for sure. The previous one was red.

  The chaise near the corner, once angled toward the window, had been turned inward toward the couch – practically forcing patients to look at her instead of the pipes outside.

  There was a fresh blot on her desk – likely from spilled coffee, her favorite drink. The table was old, its lacquer coating cheaply applied, so it was no surprise it reacted so poorly to a bit of liquid.

  Still, the coffee would have to sit there for quite some time to leave a mark like that. It wasn’t like Dr. Aresa to spill anything – let alone leave it uncleaned for long.

  I pressed two fingers against the blot. It was still slightly wet.

  Her morning must’ve been chaotic.

  The top shelf of the bookshelf behind her desk had three new titles. I couldn’t tell what they were from where I stood, but by the red colored logo on their spines, I could tell they were published by “Brambleton Publishing” – a publishing house releasing children’s books.

  She had no children of her own.

  So…her nephews came to visit her lately. Meaning she and her sister had finally reconciled. Great.

  I heard her approaching steps and quickly sat down.

  She entered the room, gave me another smile, and sat at her desk.

  She was in her late thirties, with rich, long brown hair. She wore a tailored brown jacket with bronze-buttoned cuffs. Her left sleeve short – a standard fashion design – revealing her COG, short for Civic Omni-Gear: a large bracer made of brass, iron, and polished copper, strapped tightly to her forearm with leather bands and brass buckles. Under its glassy display, beneath the surface, embedded within its inner lining, were two needles – thin and retractable – ready to pierce the wearer’s arm whenever a mana crystal was loaded. It was a tool we all used daily, and one the law required us to wear at all times.

  A beige blouse was tucked into her high-waisted skirt, and a pair of brass-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. A pin shaped like the human brain glinted on her lapel – the official icon for a licensed psychiatrist in Solvane.

  Without exchanging any more pleasantries, she began the session.

  “So, tell me, Viktor, how have you been feeling lately?”

  “I’m fine.” I replied, keeping it as simple as I could. “I feel like things have been going well lately.”

  She nodded, jotting something down in her notebook. “I’ve heard the same. The Committee of Mechanized Advancement is reviewing one of your inventions as a potential winner of the Annual Grand Exposition in Skyhaven tomorrow, right? You should’ve shared this with me. That’s no small feat.”

  Exaggeration of the year, really.

  Disinterested, I gave a half-shrug. “Yeah. Just twenty-nine other geniuses to beat. No big deal.”

  “Viktor,” She said sharply, “you’re underappreciating your achievements again. You always judge yourself too harshly.”

  “What can I say?” I muttered, my eyes darting around. “I’m nowhere near my mother’s level yet.”

  “Your mother…” Dr. Aresa echoed, her tone softening. “She was a brilliant woman. We’re all pretty much indebted to her for life. But you can’t keep comparing yourself to her. We’ve talked about this. That road is not healthy for you.”

  Again with this…

  I made a mistake bringing her up.

  I ran a hand through my wolfcut and nodded, hoping she would drop it. “I know, Doctor…”

  But she didn’t.

  Dr. Aresa cleared her throat gently. “How are you, Viktor? Really? After her passing, you shut down any talk about her – but how are you holding up?”

  I took a deep breath.

  I was forced to have these meetings with Dr. Aresa in the past two years after my…incident. But I only needed her for the Sanity Clearance Certificate – the document which deemed me as a “healthy” and “non-aggressive” member of society.

  The last thing I wanted to talk about was my mother.

  Cecilia Baines.

  Possibly the greatest inventor in Solvane’s history.

  A year ago, she was found dead.

  Suicide.

  There wasn't even a funeral.

  I wanted to cry. I really did. But the truth was – my mother hadn’t been a part of my life for the last seventeen years. The last time I actually saw her, I was three years old. Back then, she’d hit a groundbreaking breakthrough involving magitek, and the city’s ruling oligarchy granted her residence in the highest sector – Skyhaven.

  From that moment on, she was gone. Out of our lives.

  Then one day, officers from the Ironwatch Constabulary knocked on my father’s door. The news was brief.

  ‘She’s gone.’

  My first reaction was: ‘Who cares?’

  The follow-up: a growing void where my heart once was, despite what I wanted to feel.

  Most people didn’t even know she was my mother. Nor did I tell that to anyone. I didn’t want anything to do with her.

  “I’m fine.” I said eventually, answering Dr. Aresa’s question. “She was brilliant. I wish I could achieve even half of what she did.”

  “Even a tenth would be an extraordinary feat.” Dr. Aresa replied.

  I watched her silently.

  That was such a terrible thing to say as a psychiatrist…Well, she was a mediocre psychiatrist to begin with. Not that it mattered anyway. Anyone would do, really. At least she was easy to deal with.

  Either way, I completely disagreed with what she just said.

  My mother had revolutionized the steam engines that held the floating platforms of Orlinth and Skyhaven – Solvane’s central and upper tiers, respectively – by integrating them with white mana crystals - Aetheris. The result? Engines that would last for centuries with near-zero maintenance. Considering the previous engines – regular steam ones – were already reaching the end of their lifetime, her invention quite literally saved all of Solvane.

  To this day nobody could understand how she did it. Nobody could mimic her ingenuity. With her dead, it almost felt like if the new engines were ever to experience any kind of setback, we’d all be goners.

  And me? My “great” invention for the Grand Expo?

  I had submitted a device that felt like little more than a parlor trick: The Chrono Quill, I called it – a self-writing mechanism that used a brass pen connected to a pressure-calibrated time gear, and a nail-sized Aetheris. When left in a room, it would record everything spoken within earshot, transcribing it accurately and timestamping each sentence to the minute.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  It didn’t hold entire districts on top of itself. It was just a pen. A pen running on just a tiny bit of magitek.

  Yet, one of the committee’s members thought it was genius.

  “And how is you father doing?” Dr. Aresa’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

  “Dad?” I said, smiling instinctively. He was the only person I knew I always had in my corner. “He’s doing better now too, I think. Keeps saying how proud he is of me. Personally, I don’t think there’s much to be proud of, but – “

  “Viktor…” Dr. Aresa cut in gently.

  I sighed, trying again. “He’s happy I’m going to be in the Grand Expo. He believes that if I place in the top ten, the Ascension Board will offer me a chance to take the Skybound Trial.”

  “Which, from what I can tell, is well within the realm of possibility.” Dr. Aresa said. “Opportunities like this don’t come often, Viktor. It’s not every day an Orlinth denizen has a shot at moving up to Skyhaven.”

  I exhaled slowly. It all sounded too good to be true. And I was old enough to know Solvane had a habit of doing this to its lower-tier citizens – dangling hope just long enough to get you excited, before crushing it mercilessly.

  Honestly, I’d rather have no hope at all. Just live in the moment.

  “Well…I’d still need a – “

  “A Sanity Clearance Certificate from me?” Dr. Aresa said with a knowing smile. “I can assure you, you’re making great strides toward it. Just a few more fruitful sessions, and I’ll sign it.”

  I nodded, smiling inwardly.

  I didn’t dislike her, not really. But these meetings had run their course a long time ago. At this point, I was mostly just saying what she wanted to hear. Jumping through the imaginary hoops.

  I just wanted it to be over. To be “free” again.

  We continued in the same rhythm for the next fifteen minutes until the session came to a close.

  “I wish you all the best tomorrow, Viktor.” Dr. Aresa said as I stood up. “Hopefully, your invention will reach the upper placements. Make us Orlinthers proud.”

  She quickly reached to her COG with her right hand and pressed a few buttons. Almost instantly, my own COG beeped with a notification. I raised my right hand and watched the message scroll across the display:

  [18:46]

  [Notification]

  [Weekly Session with Psychiatrist Dr. Gina Aresa – Status: Attended]

  [Next scheduled appointment: Tuesday, 17/11/707, 18:00]

  [A reminder will be issued 48 hours in advance]

  I gave a small nod. “Thank you, Doctor.”

  “I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

  Then I stepped out of the office and back into the streets of Orlinth.

  ***

  Stepping out onto the street, I immediately glanced up – just a habit, really – but as always, Skyhaven’s platform remained suspended above us, unshaken, unmoving. No indication that it might one day come crashing down onto Orlinth.

  I wondered if the Foundry’s denizens – the lowest sector of Solvane, located beneath Orlinth’s platform – felt the same about us.

  Seeing it suspended as usual did little to ease my ever-anxious mind, though.

  Skyhaven’s underside stared back. Mostly smooth aside from the holes evenly spread across it, through which the magitek-steam engines emitted steam and residual mana. The platform was wide and felt almost endless – though it did have a set length. It also felt too damn close – a whole kilometer above Orlinth’s tallest building, yet still oppressing enough to imagine myself reach up and scrape my knuckles against it.

  It covered central Orlinth completely, stealing away all the sunlight, making us rely on Magitek-Powered Lamp Posts – another “brilliant” invention.

  Real sunlight only reached Orlinth’s outer districts, where Skyhaven’s shadow didn’t reach. It also made those zones extremely expensive to live in. In a way, they were the closest most Orlinthers would ever get to live in Skyhaven.

  The air was damp and warm. Heavy with the scent of oil, metal, and steam exhaust. Above, the air was cluttered with airships – the BrassEagle Mark V mainly, an old design – raining even more smoke over us in steady clouds.

  Walkways paved with soot-stained stone stretched in every direction, edged with low steel fences. Buildings rose to each side, their walls covered in pipes. Street-level shops lined the streets. Most had rotating mechanical signs, flipping between the name of the establishment and whatever promotional gimmick they were running at the moment.

  I passed by tram station number 14 – a rust-stained overhead arch bore the number. Everything was numbered in Orlinth, like the people on the platform had forgotten they could name things.

  The tram was there, doors still open, steam trailing from its front nozzle. Inside, people sat stiffly, making little to no eye contact with each other. Everyone dressed fancily like they belonged a floor higher than they were – top hats, jackets with brass trim, tight collars, gold-coated pocket watches and monocles. Even their COG bracers were customized with silver or golden outlines, like the thing was some kind of fashion statement instead of what it really was – an elaborate handcuff.

  Don’t get me wrong. Life in Solvane was impossible without the COG. Even setting aside the fact it was illegal to leave your home without it, it made things easier – ID, appointments, ration claims, job-related functions using the many types of mana crystals.

  But flaunting it? Decorating it like a status symbol? That was just…wrong. And plain stupid.

  I considered taking the tram home but remembered my finances were tight this month - too low to take the full ride. I didn’t yet have a full-time job and was living with my father, and there was no way I was asking him for money – especially since he would definitely give me anything I ask for.

  Walking it is, then. At least some of the distance. I couldn't actually walk all the way home from here.

  Across the street, a Patrol Unit clanked by on four piston-driven legs, its polished plating reflecting the light of a nearby lamp post, joints hissing with each step.

  It looked slightly different compared to how they usually look. Bigger. More reinforced. And…accompanied.

  Trailing just behind was something far worse: a humanoid-shaped automaton, easily over seven feet tall, plated in thick layers of iron and brass. Unlike the four-legged Patrol Unit, this one walked upright on two thick legs, its steps echoing through the streets. Its shoulders were broad, and each arm was a weapon. The right one was a large, iron blade. The other one, a magitek firearm loaded with a red mana crystal – Ignis – ready to unleash fire. A single circular red sensor glowed in the center of its head like an eye, scanning the streets silently.

  I activated the COG’s base analysis function to scan them both from afar.

  [Patrol Unit #125: Ironstrider – level 22]

  [Automaton Enforcer #11: Guardian – level 37]

  Level 37?!

  I blinked.

  Had they given them another upgrade? That would be the third one this year!

  Either way, that was far beyond anything I’d seen on patrol in Orlinth.

  They ran on the same system architecture as our COGs. That meant this one had undergone thirty-seven full upgrades. For comparison, my COG was a measly level three.

  The Ironstrider stopped periodically to verify COGs from passing citizens – standard identity checks. It was likely looking for illegal immigrants – Foundry residents who’d somehow slipped into Orlinth.

  That was the way it worked in Solvane. Every citizen was restricted to their assigned platform and those below it. Meaning, Skyhaven’s residents could go anywhere they pleased – though they rarely left their platform as they had everything they needed up there – while Foundry citizens were chained to their smog-drenched, steam-choked industrial slums.

  Orlinth residents were sometimes allowed to visit Skyhaven, but only when invited – like me for the Expo, for example.

  The distinctions were clear. The slaves – sorry, the working class – mined mana crystals, worked the forges, and kept the machines running in the Foundry. The middle-class – artisans, repairmen, technicians, clinic doctors, and low-tier inventors – were bound to Orlinth. And those with money, power, and bloodlines as old as the city itself? They lived in Skyhaven.

  Their world didn’t touch ours. And they intended to keep it that way.

  If you were skilled enough, Skyhaven took you up – this kept the order of things as is. People remained hopeful, believing their lives would change if they continued working hard.

  But that rarely happened.

  As I rounded the corner, I walked straight into someone built like a brick wall and stumbled back, falling on my rear.

  “Hey, watch where you’re going!” The man barked.

  I blinked, looked up – and immediately saw why he hadn’t moved an inch.

  He was an Ironwatch Enforcer. Wearing a Mark I Aetherguard Suit – a black exoskeleton with exposed metallic struts at the elbows, knees, and spine, boosting strength at the joints with hydraulic-assist coils. A folded sword hung on his hip, compacted into a sleek metallic block no longer than a forearm, ready to be flicked into full length at a moment’s notice. A bronze-coated handgun was holstered at his right hip.

  Another Ironstrider stood beside him, its legs whirring as it scanned the street.

  The man barely spared me a glance, his focus locked on his COG as he coordinated both Patrol Units through its interface.

  But I recognized him instantly.

  Devin.

  Shit.

  Before I could slip away, his gaze dropped down – and a sadistic grin spread across his face, telling me everything I needed to know.

  “Well, who do we have here?” He called out. “If it isn’t Rat Number Two.”

  I stood up straight, biting back a sigh. I ignored the old insult – one of many from my high school bully.

  Devin had always been the kind of bastard who didn’t need a reason to ruin your day. Back then, it was stolen lunches and money, sabotaged school work, and the occasional beating from him and his braindead friends. He nicknamed me and everyone he bullied “Rats” and gave each of us a number to make it funnier for himself to bully us.

  He was never smart. But now he had a badge, a weapon, and government approval to do the same nasty things he had done in high school.

  “Excuse me.” I said, desperately trying to escape the interaction. He was an Enforcer now, and I was already flagged for weekly psychiatrist sessions. I needed to keep my record clean.

  But it just wasn’t my day.

  “Wait – Halegrim.” He said, gesturing to the Patrol Unit beside him. “We’re on alert for Libra terrorists. Run your COG through the scanner.”

  I froze. “You seriously think I’m with Libra?”

  No way he believed I was a terrorist. He just wanted an excuse.

  Devin chuckled. “No. But you’ll run your COG regardless. That’s an order, citizen.”

  I sighed before raising my hand toward the unit’s screen. My COG hummed as it got close. The machine scanned it.

  I waited for the usual green light.

  Instead, the screen flashed red, and a sharp siren blared through the street, pulling every pair of eyes around onto me.

  My blood froze. “That’s a mistake, I – “

  Devin didn’t waste a second.

  He closed the distance between us in an instant thanks to his Suit, and his fist connected with my stomach, folding me in half before he jumped forward and slammed me face first into the street.

  My arms were yanked behind me, a set of steelbind cuffs locking around my wrists with a click.

  “You’re under arrest, Halegrim.” He whispered.

  I gasped for air. “Devin – it malfunctioned! I’m not with Libra!”

  Devin laughed. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we? Either way, you’re spending the night behind bars.”

  My heart thundered. “I can’t! I have to be at the Expo tomorrow morning!”

  “Shouting at an Enforcer?” Devin said with exaggerated dramaticism. “Now that’s someone desperate to make it worse.”

  Then he slammed his fist into the side of my head, knocking me out cold.