Dawn broke over Ashhold like a rusted blade, slicing through a sky choked with gray clouds, heavy as the breath of the dead. The wind howled across the wasteland, carrying grit and the acrid tang of charred earth, whipping past the Hollow’s jagged scar—a once-mine now reduced to a graveyard of twisted pipes and frost-clad ruins. Beyond, the Flame Lords’ forges smoldered, faint plumes rising like the gaze of a hunter roused. Lynn stood at the edge, staring into the abyss, the Starlight Engine growling behind him, its wheels grinding stone. Five shadows flanked him: Ella’s ember pulsed like blood, Kael moved with the wind’s whisper, Thorn loomed like a mountain, Lyra’s crystals glinted like stars, and Seryn’s glow flickered, faint as guilt. They were sparks in the ash, fragile yet lethal.

  “We can’t hide forever,” Lynn said, voice rough, throat raw with forge smoke. Visions burned in him—gears meshing, flames roaring—a madness that felt like faith. “East ridge has their stockpile—ore, steel. We take it, they limp.”

  “East ridge?” Seryn’s voice was soft, her glow trembling like ice about to crack. She met Ella’s sneer, a sting in her chest—betrayal’s shadow lashed her soul. “I scouted it for them. A dozen guards, lazy.” Her words carried self-loathing; she’d mapped for the enemy, now turned the blade.

  “Snake’s pit,” Ella spat, her ember flaring like a living fury. She wanted to burn Seryn, burn this gamble, but Lynn’s iron stare held her. “You trust her, Lynn? I trust fire.”

  “She’s here, bleeding with us,” Lynn said, throat tight. He wanted to believe, needed to, yet feared the vein of humanity ran too deep to trust. “I’ll bet on that, Ella. You don’t trust her, trust me.” He turned to Seryn. “Lead.”

  The Hollow’s depths swallowed sound, shadows splintering under the engine’s wheels. Seryn’s glow probed the east tunnel, faint but resolute, guiding them through a snarl of rust and cold. Ella fed the core with fire, Lyra shaped its pulse with crystals, Thorn and Kael strapped steel plates—each slab a vow, heavy and unyielding. Lynn pushed, knuckles bleeding, screaming inside: Live. Become their nightmare.

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  The tunnel opened to the east ridge, a raw expanse under a blood-red sky. Torches winked like wolf eyes, the stockpile a hoard: ore dark as gore, steel cold as graves. Guards lounged, their laughter a taunt. Lynn hissed, “Ella, flare north. Thorn, Kael, left flank. I take right.” A fireball streaked, erupting in a deafening roar—north guards scrambled, yelling. Thorn charged like an avalanche, his bar caving a skull, blood spraying like rain; Kael’s wind hurled two more, torches spinning into smoke. Lynn drove the engine right, Seryn’s ice snaring a blade, Lyra’s crystal blinding a foe—the beast roared, heat blasting, stockpile crumbling, guards wailing as ash swallowed them.

  A whip cracked, sharp as thunder. The captain loomed, black armor gleaming, his lash a serpent striking Ella. She dodged, fire flaring, but it caught her leg, blood soaking through. “Bastard!” she snarled, her ember exploding into a wall of flame—the captain staggered, helm scorched. Lynn shouted, “Load it!” Seryn hauled steel, hands shaking like a sinner’s penance, Thorn tossed ore like boulders, the engine groaning under the weight.

  “Die!” The captain’s whip lashed again, aiming for Lynn. He swung the engine as a shield, its heat blasting the man’s face—he crashed down, whip tangling in stone. Lynn roared, “Go!” The crew piled on, wheels chewing earth like thunder, the captain rising as his horn blared—too late.

  The Hollow took them back, the engine laden, its hum a furious pulse. Kael laughed, wild, “We drew blood!” Thorn grunted, “Claws sharpened.” Lyra touched the crystals, exhaling, “It holds.” Ella clutched her leg, glaring at Lynn. “Worth it?” He gripped steel, smirking, “They’re lame now. Next, they break.” Seryn bowed her head, blood seeping through her sleeve, the Flame Lords’ whispers clawing her mind—she couldn’t outrun them.

  Beyond, Ashhold’s sky burned darker, a crimson wound widening. The engine growled, alive, and Lynn’s eyes flickered with fire—they’d stolen steel, but woken a dragon.