Kael stepped through the gates–

  And the world changed.

  No more rain. No more docks. No more ocean behind him.

  Just heat.

  He turned, expecting to see the docks behind him. But what greeted him was a black wall.

  Steam hissed from somewhere above. The air felt thicker and warmer, making it difficult to breathe. They stood on a wide cobblestone road that sloped downward into a city of metal and smoke.

  Pipes ran across walls and houses. Chimneys topped the houses, spitting smoke. Lanterns buzzed with fire that had no smoke. There was no smell. No flicker. Just a soft, steady glow.

  Junnesa’s fingers hugged Kael's.

  He didn’t blame her.

  A scream echoed from above. It roared overhead on a raised rail of iron. A metal box, as long as a house. It breathed in steam and spat it back up into the air as it vanished in the distance.

  Kael stared after it. So did the others.

  “What…” Mara whispered, her eyes wide. “What was that?”

  No one answered her.

  Everything here moved.

  Valves hissed. Gears turned. A wagon with no horse passed them. Its wheels spun on their own, coughing hot smoke. Its iron frame glinted with tiny runes.

  Lira's eyes track the wagon. “That... wasn’t pulled,” she said.

  Yoan grunted quietly. He didn’t look impressed. Just wary.

  They moved in silence, the group instinctively drawing closer.

  They walked slowly across the cobblestone road. A vendor rolled a wheeled cart stacked with memory shards sealed in wax.

  The vendor barked, Gladiator’s instinct, very fierce! Scholar shard, too! Fluent in nine dead tongues!”

  On the corner, a stall sold glowing liquid bottled like wine.

  “Doesn’t look like magic,” Eyrk muttered. “Doesn’t feel like it either.”

  It was true. Outside the Spine, things were simpler. Wood, stone, fire. You lit a torch, you rode a horse, you built things with rope and sweat.

  Not this.

  Not machines that move on their own.

  Junnesa stayed close, her small hand wrapped in Kael’s.

  Mouth open. Eyes wide. But silent.

  They all were.

  Too many questions. And no one here looked like they were willing to give answers.

  Most of the people walking the streets weren’t seekers.

  Some looked normal enough. Citizens, workers, and people with tools strapped to their belts, working away. Others... weren’t as normal.

  One figure passed with a copper helm fused to his skull. Another had arms made of interlocking metal fingers.

  “We’re not the strangest thing here,” Lira muttered.

  “Not by a long shot,” Eyrk said. “What the hell is this place?”

  A heavy clang drew their attention.

  A man was being dragged by the neck. Chains wrapped around his shoulders and wrists. His face was blank.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Kael looked around, and no one reacted. The city seemed to think it was normal.

  Two figures in crimson coats walked beside him like the ones at the gate. But these had no masks. One of them cast a quick glance at Kael’s group as they passed.

  “That man…” Mara said slowly, “was that—?”

  “Bound,” Yoan said flatly.

  Kael felt the weight of the temporary name still etched in him.

  [Temporary Designation: Stone-Heart]

  It hadn’t gone away. It was still there. He felt it.

  “If we say our True Names… what would happen?” Eyrk asked quietly.

  Kael didn’t answer.

  He didn’t know. None of them did.

  They turned a corner, and the city opened up.

  A massive plaza stretched before them. It had dozens of ramps spiraling down into different sections. Above it all stood a massive black tower of gears and stone. It displayed strange symbols. Kael had seen markings like them before… on Maxwell’s jars.

  Various stalls were displayed across the plaza. Some sold bread. Others offered memories shards, strange weapons, beast bodies, and vials of different liquids.

  In the center of the plaza, a huge brass map sat bolted to a pillar. It had branches from various city districts, like Central Plaza, Ashledge, and Silvernock.

  And above it all on the map was a black tower inscribed:

  The Tower of Ascension.

  The group stood at the edge of the massive plaza. They stared up at the Tower of Ascension. It groaned under the weight of the gears turning.

  They didn’t have a plan.

  Not a single coin to their name, not a single idea of where to go.

  Yoan was the first to speak.

  “We need to move.”

  Kael nodded, still holding Junnesa’s hand. She hadn’t said a word since they stepped through the gate. Her eyes drifted everywhere, with curiosity, awe, and a bit of fear in them.

  Lira stepped beside the brass map, looking at it. Her fingers traced the labeled districts. “Ashledge. Silvernock. Grindhill. Some of these sound like mines.”

  “It smells like it too,” Eyrk muttered.

  Kael glanced around. The plaza was vast, but even here, everything had structure. Walkways led to lifts. Bridges lay overhead.

  A pale woman walked by. Her mouth was stitched shut, and symbols were inked on her forehead. No one stared. No one reacted.

  “Look,” Mara said, pointing down one of the descending ramps. “That sign. Ashledge. Maybe we can find shelter there.”

  Yoan nodded. “Anywhere out of the open.”

  They moved as a group again, heading down into the streets.

  The further they went, the louder the city became. Clanking, grinding, whispering of machines.

  It felt like a maze.

  Buildings are stacked atop one another. They were connected by catwalks and hanging cables.

  A faded sign creaked in the wind above: Boarding House – Meals Optional, Memories Extra.

  They stopped beneath it.

  Kael looked up. “This might be something.”

  Lira tilted her head. “Meals optional?”

  “Memories extra?” Eyrk echoed. “That can’t be good.”

  “Better than staying out here,” Yoan said. “Let’s check inside.”

  The door creaked as Yoan pushed it open.

  The boarding house was dimly lit, and the bitter smoke of iron pipes was overwhelming. The room was sparse, with rows of metal cots and a wooden counter bolted to the wall. Behind the counter was a thin man sitting atop a high stool, reading a newspaper.

  The man looked up as they entered. He glanced at them: dripping wet, tattered clothes, no coin, nothing. They even had a little girl.

  “No coin,” he said before they even spoke. His voice was bored. “No room. Meals cost extra.”

  “We just got here,” Yoan said.

  “That’s everyone,” the man replied. “Doesn’t make you special.”

  Kael stepped forward. “We just need a place to rest. Just for the night.”

  The man responded coldly. “So do the other six dozen seekers sleeping on metal sheets in Grindhill.”

  Junnesa tugged tighter to Kael’s leg. The others said nothing.

  Then, a voice behind them: smooth, amused.

  “New arrivals, huh?”

  They turned. A man leaned against the doorway. He had his arms crossed and was wearing a well-worn leather coat. He had a shiny sword that looked like it was made of glass, or something like it. A seeker—but older. Eyes sharp and full of confidence. He had an emblem stitched into his shirt, a white eagle with a torn wing.

  He looked at Junnesa. Then Kael.

  “First Floor can be... unwelcoming,” the man said. He reached into his coat, pulled out a handful of dull silver tokens, and tossed them onto the counter. “This should cover a room. And a meal. Maybe even a blanket.”

  The thin man grunted and swept the tokens up.

  “Why?” Lira asked quietly.

  The older seeker shrugged. “Why not? Someone did the same for me when I was in your shoes.”

  He nodded toward the stairs. “Second floor’s emptier. You should all rest while you can.”

  Then he was gone.

  No name. No time to say thanks.

  Kael turned back to the others.

  Together, they climbed the stairs.