Chapter 96: Welcome to the Foundry

  I’m not sure how it happened—whether it was the low, constant hum of the engines, the steady, vibrationless flight of the BrassVulture, or simply the mental fatigue I seemed to have accumulated despite losing most of my memories—but I fell asleep standing, leaning against the ship’s bulkhead, my head resting beside the narrow window.

  I only woke up when the ship began to descend. The shift in gravity tugged at my stomach, snapping me awake.

  Nervously, I checked my COG.

  [13:37]

  I sighed in relief. I hadn’t been out of it for more than an hour.

  Then I looked outside.

  The airship had already crossed over the edge of Orlinth, then curved back toward Solvane as it dropped altitude, directing itself toward the Foundry.

  That wide U-turn, combined with the slow descent, were what had woken me.

  Now, through the reinforced glass, Orlinth loomed ahead, slowly sliding upward and vanishing from view as the ship descended beneath it.

  Below, the Foundry was unlike anything our school books could’ve prepared me for.

  It was an endless cloud of smoke and steam that swallowed entire districts whole. I could barely make out buildings, streets or any type of structure. Scratch that, I couldn't make out anything. The only things that clearly pierced the gray and white were flashes of red: fires—factory furnaces that scattered the fog below.

  “Good, you’re awake,” Riven said, snapping my attention away from the window for barely a second—just enough for me to notice his Aetherguard Mark I was gone.

  My eyes returned to the Foundry below. “I can’t see anything down there,” I muttered in awe. “How does anyone fly through this? Another airship could punch straight through those clouds, and us, and we’d never see it coming.”

  “There are special lights the airships use,” Riven replied. “And it gets easier the lower you go.” He patted me on the back, “Come on,” then turned and made his way toward the pilot and crew’s cabins at the far end of the hull.

  “Come on where?” I asked, following behind.

  “Get the Aero I gave you ready,” he said without looking back. “We’re jumping.”

  “Jumping…” I echoed, finally understanding what I’d need the Aero for.

  My heartbeat quickened slightly. It wasn’t the jump itself that worried me, it was the uncertainty of dropping into that horizontal wall of smoke.

  “Yup,” Riven said, flashing his signature grin. “Unless, of course, you’d rather waste another hour reaching this ship’s destination. Then more time going through customs. Then even more time explaining to Ironwatch how you ended up with Casten Vorrick’s Writ of Passage.”

  I grimaced.

  I knew something was off with the dockworkers’ reaction. All they needed to do was send a message to the Foundry’s Ironwatch—it would arrive long before we did.

  Obsidian Crow #13 might already be waiting for me down there. Just because he didn't come for me at the start of this run like in those thirteen times he'd killed me, doesn't mean he's not still after me.

  Still, jumping out of a moving airship was…nuts. And Déjà vu offered no comforting sense of familiarity.

  Nor did Afterimage.

  [There is no afterimage to run in this area]

  Riven placed a hand on my shoulder. “Relax. It’s really not that hard. Aero will do the work. You’ve got this.”

  “Not that hard for an ex-Obsidian Crow, maybe,” I muttered. “My COG was literally level three before today.”

  “Listen,” Riven said calmly. “Your COG’s Quality function sits at eight right now. With Burn Rate at five minutes, it’ll be more than enough. Just don't wander off.”

  I frowned. “How do you know the level of my Quality and Burn Rate?”

  He stared at me silently for a moment before answering. “Dude, are you sick? What’s with you?” He shook his head in disbelief. “I’m in Ironwatch. I scanned your COG when you were passed out.” He tapped his bracer. “Ironwatch's scanners are more advanced than civilians'—for obvious reasons. You should know that.”

  He was right. And still, I couldn’t shake that feeling of unease. Perhaps because it felt like no matter how hard I tried to get ahead of him, he was always going to remain in front.

  Before I could say anything else, Riven added, “Like I said—don't wander off ahead too much. If you lose control, I’ll guide you.”

  He turned toward a large compartment set into the bulkhead beside the pilot’s cabin door. “Now, let’s grab these before we leave.”

  He opened the heavy lid and began rummaging through a jumbled pile of masks—compact half-face respirators that covered only the nose and mouth, each fitted with two small cylindrical canisters mounted on either side. They looked light and fragile, clearly designed for short-term use rather than something permanent.

  Riven skimmed past the top layers, grimacing as he inspected a few. Some were cracked. Others were missing at least one of their filter canisters.

  “People get handed the upper ones without much care. The good ones are always buried,” he muttered, almost comically out of breath as he dug deeper into the heap. His eyes squinted shut, more feeling than seeing as he searched.

  “How bad is it down there, anyway?” I asked.

  I already knew the Foundry’s air was filthy, and I knew that respirators were needed for anyone coming from Orlinth—from stories we heard from acquaintances who worked here—but how bad was it, really?

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  Riven exhaled a chuckle as he finally pulled out two mostly intact masks and tossed one to me.

  “Depends how you look at it,” he began. “The respiratory systems of Foundry residents had already adapted to this foul air. Low oxygen efficiency, constant particulates, chemical exposure—their bodies already have some tolerance to it. Now, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t slowly kills them anyway.” He snorted. “They should still be wearing masks daily if they hope to survive for longer than forty years, but you think House Innovation or House Energy bothers supplying them with permanent masks? No.”

  He took a deep breath. “But that’s a rant for another time.” He pointed between us. “Me and you? We come from above where the air layers are mostly managed—engineered, some would even say. In Skyhaven especially. If we get exposed to pure Foundry air straight off the bat without these babies.” He shook his mask for emphasis. “We won’t even need to worry about the Parasite. Our lungs will be poisoned by the end of the day on their own.”

  He snapped the compartment shut and lightly nudged me aside to open the second one next to it. This one was filled with safety goggles—most of them cracked as well or outright shattered.

  Riven caught my stare and grinned. “Yeah. Same deal as the masks. The good ones are at the bottom.”

  Once we’d secured a usable pair each, he led us toward a corner at the rear of the hull, almost completely hidden from the rest of the cargo bay by two adjacent stacks of crates.

  At first, I didn’t understand why he was taking us there. But then, I spotted the hatch set into the floor.

  “It’s a maintenance exit,” he explained. “If something goes wrong mid-flight, the crew uses it to inspect the exterior.”

  He motioned for me to wait, then handed me his mask and goggles and walked over to one of the nearby crewmembers.

  They spoke in hushed tones—whatever Riven said made the man’s face turn pale. But a moment later, Riven discreetly passed him a small pouch—likely filled with coins—and returned to me.

  The crewmember lingered behind us at a careful distance, pointedly looking everywhere except at us.

  “Don’t worry,” Riven said. “He’s here to lock the hatch once we’re out. So the air won’t flood in and poison everyone else.”

  I nodded. It seemed that my assessment of him was correct and his earlier talk about caring for all people hadn’t just been empty words.

  Riven took his mask back, fitted it over his face, and tightened the straps. Then, he put on the goggles, adjusting them similarly.

  He looked at me expectantly. “Well?” he asked. His voice slightly muffled, flattened by the mask. “Put your gear on.”

  Realizing I’d spaced out, I quickly followed suit.

  He stepped closer and reached for the straps of my mask, making me flinch.

  “Relax,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just checking the seal. I don’t want you coughing blood on me in a few hours.”

  Given his background, I assumed he’d likely put on many of those. So, I decided to trust him to adjust the straps until the mask sat tight.

  To say the mask and goggles were uncomfortable would be an understatement. My face itched almost instantly, but I preferred it to…well, dying.

  “Alright,” Riven said, dropping to one knee beside the hatch. “Let’s do this.”

  His body glowed orange as Kinetra activated. He disengaged the safety locks and hauled the hatch open.

  Immediately, air slammed upward—a violent mix of wind and smoke blasted inside, making the crates around us groan as turbulence rattled the hull.

  The other passengers moved, obviously noticing what was happening, growing alarmed.

  Riven’s glow shifted instantly to green as he activated Aero, pushing the incoming airflow back out enough to stabilize the opening.

  Meanwhile, the crewmember Riven bribed was quick to halt the advance of his comrades.

  “Use your Aero now and move,” Riven ordered.

  No need to tell me twice.

  I slotted the green crystal he gave me into my COG’s Channel Core. The needles pierced my arm, injecting me with its mana.

  [Burn Rate lvl. 5: Aero is burning. Time left – 00:04:59]

  I looked down the shaft.

  It had a service ladder leading down to a narrow maintenance catwalk, a metal strip running along the underside of the hull, with a waist-high safety railing.

  I swung onto the ladder, the wind roaring safely around me as I used my control over it to create a small pocket to keep myself balanced and in control.

  My feet hit the catwalk and I gripped the railing just as I noticed Riven descending after me. Above us, the same crewmember slammed the hatch shut and sealed it.

  My heart hammered as I looked over the railing.

  We were at the very bottom of the ship.

  The BrassVulture didn’t look like it could fly in high speeds, nor did it seem we were moving that fast through the window, but standing here now, I realized that it was just an optical illusion.

  Below us, the Foundry’s endless smoke clouds rushed past, fast. So, so fast.

  “Jump now,” Riven said. “You go first. That way I can grab you if something goes wrong.”

  My pulse spiked to levels I don’t think it ever reached.

  Still, I nodded, bracing myself.

  I climbed over the railing, keeping a firm grip behind me. I wanted to count down—anything to steady myself.

  Then I felt his hand on my back.

  The motherfucker shoved me...

  One moment I was standing up there, the next I was freefalling into a wall of smoke.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” I screamed as my body tore through the white fog.

  But the panic didn’t last long.

  I forced it down, used Aero again, and seized control of the air around me. The winds bent to my will, resisting my descent—slowing it until it stopped entirely.

  I exhaled sharply, looking around. But that only freaked me out harder.

  There was nothing there but the damn, endless smoke, pressing from every direction.

  Then, to make things worse, I heard a deep, rising hum accompanied by a low whistle. An odd, red light pierced the fog ahead of me, growing larger and brighter with each second.

  I connected the dots instantly.

  I dropped my control of the wind and let myself fall again.

  A heartbeat later, an airship screamed through the space above me, its bulk tearing the air apart. The wake it left behind slammed into me, forcing me into a violent spin.

  My vision blurred as I fought to reassert control, Aero slowing my tumble but not enough to stop it completely as the dizziness I was feeling constantly broke my concentration.

  Suddenly, I felt additional resistance in the air—enough to help me finally stop my fall.

  “Don't worry. I’m here,” Riven’s voice came to my side. “You good?”

  I snapped my head toward him. “Why the fuck did you shove me?!”

  He shrugged, perfectly calm. “To speed things up. We didn’t have time for second thoughts.”

  “I would’ve jumped on my own!”

  “I’m sorry. You’re right. I overdid it.” He raised his hands placatingly. “Want to shove me back so we’re even?”

  I stared at him, dumbfounded.

  This was the guy I was supposed to convince to betray Valdemar? Was that even possible?

  “You’ll get your chance later, whether you want it or not,” he added casually, ignoring my turmoil. Then he gestured downward. “Let’s move before your five minutes run out.”

  This wasn’t over as far as I was concerned, but I knew he was right and there was no time to argue about it mid-flight.

  He descended, not slowly, but with absolute control.

  I followed, clumsier by comparison. Aero kept me stable, but it was obvious I lacked his experience. Still, I managed to keep pace as we cut through the smoke, still on our way to meet the ground—the Earth.

  Gradually, the fog thinned. And then, the Foundry revealed itself—just slightly, but enough to shock me.

  My eyes widened at the sight before me.

  Factories sprawled endlessly below us, their furnaces blazing and spewing smoke and steam into the sky. Buildings were crumbling, blackened with soot. Streets vanished beneath clouds of smog, broken only by the pale yellow glow of Lumen lampposts that stood crooked more often than not.

  But that wasn’t what grabbed my attention.

  Scattered across the landscape, seemingly spaced with deliberate precision, were massive holes torn into the earth. They looked artificially created, almost resembling open wounds on a human body.

  Around each one, heavy machinery churned relentlessly, operated by countless men and women that ran around, constantly in action.

  From the depths of those holes, faint lights rose upward.

  Green. Blue. Red. Orange. Black. Yellow.

  Crystal light.

  Those were the mines.

  But they were unlike anything I’d ever imagined they’d look like.

  They weren’t natural. They weren’t discovered. They were manmade similar to how everything else in Solvane was.

  Just like the crystals themselves were…

  Everything made sense, suddenly.

  I tried to count them, but there were so many. There were at least thirty as far as my eyes could see. But beyond that? There were probably more. There was no reason to believe this pattern of digging wasn’t repeated everywhere else in the Foundry.

  As I descended, Riven’s arm suddenly wrapped around my shoulder. I was too shocked by the sights to knock it away.

  He grinned.

  “Mesmerizing, eh?” he said, chuckling. “Welcome to the Foundry, Viktor Halegrim. This is where you’ll learn firsthand exactly how low Solvane had fallen.”