The towering silhouette of the building loomed ahead, with a sign saying "Avisia Aerotech Assembly" sitting above the entrance. Its sleek metal exterior gleamed faintly in the fading light. Leonard whistled, craning his neck to take it all in. Two massive airships rested in docked positions, their frames casting long shadows over the complex.
"Haven't had a shadow this big cast on me before. You picked an interesting location, old man!"
“That’s where we’re headed,” Darmas said, gesturing toward the floating ships connected to the top building with some wooden docks. “Get ready, folks. This won’t be as easy as a stroll through Principium.”
Hammond grunted. “We’re not looking to leave a bigger mess than we need to.”
Darmas smirked, his confidence unshaken. “We’ve got this. Let us technicians handle the guards at the door.”
As they approached the entrance, Darmas stopped to confer with the magitechnicians. He spoke in hushed tones, gesturing toward the guards stationed at the heavy iron gates. The technicians nodded, adjusting the straps on their crossbows and gear.
“Alright,” Darmas said, turning back to the group with a grin. “The plan’s set. Let’s go, men! We can’t let the Spellbreakers do all the work, after all.”
Two guards stood at attention by the doors, clad in the familiar uniform of Azrael’s forces. Their spears gleamed in the dim light, and their eyes narrowed as the group drew closer. The mention of the word “Spellbreaker” didn’t escape their notice.
“Which one of you is the Breaker?!” one of the guards barked, leveling his spear toward Darmas.
Darmas raised his hands in mock surrender, looking at his hands with a sly smile on his face. “You two seeing any gloves?” he asked, his tone almost playful. The magitechnicians moved into a half-circle formation, walking from behind Darmas, as if appearing out of nowhere. Their crossbows were now drawn and aimed at the guards.
“We’d like to go inside,” A lanky, red haired technician with a cross-shaped scar on his right cheek continued smoothly. “That alright with you?”
The guards stood their ground, undeterred. “If we were afraid of a mere threat, we’d never have joined Azrael’s army!” one of them snapped.
Leyra stepped forward into the half circle past Darmas, her staff glowing faintly as she channeled her energy. The air around her grew heavy with static, and the clouds overhead darkened ominously. “Oh, really? Not easily threatened? Wanna put that to the test?” she challenged, her voice crackling like the lightning gathering around her staff as her eyes lost their pupils and became a bright white mass.
Moments later, the group stood inside the massive building.
“I’m impressed at how persuasive you can be, Leyra,” Leonard said with a grin.
Leyra smirked, twirling her staff lightly. “I do like to get what I want. Thank you for noticing.”
Nathan, however, frowned. “I don’t think that one technician needed to knock them out with a chop to the neck after that, though. They seemed docile.”
The red head chuckled, unbothered by the remark. “Just makin’ sure they don’t get any funny ideas,” he said, flexing his hand as if to emphasize his point.
“I did tell Finn to do that, but I also didn’t expect the young miss lightning over here to leave such an impression. Thought a little more convincing would be necessary… Oh well, we’re inside.”
The interior of the Avisia Aerotech Assembly was nothing short of breathtaking. Leonard had expected a multi-story structure, but most of the space was a single, cavernous hall. Towering scaffolds and assembly rigs stretched up toward the ceiling, where massive airship frames and hulls were being constructed. The hum of metal being shaped and molded echoed faintly, though much of the noise had died down—likely due to workers fleeing at the first sign of trouble. The walls were lined with blueprints of airships and smaller aircraft to be built, all of various shapes and sizes.
“This place is huge,” Leonard muttered, his eyes wide as he took in the sheer scale of the operation. Nathan stepped forward a little more than Leonard, joining in his awe.
A single elevator stood in the back of the hall, its small, cage-like structure looking almost out of place amidst the industrial sprawl. As they made their way toward it, Leonard noticed two figures still working on one of the airship hulls. Unlike the rest of the workers, who had clearly abandoned their posts, these two seemed entirely focused on their task.
One of them, a towering man easily three meters tall, wearing a white shirt and black, thick pants did take notice of them in-between tasks. His curvy brown hair was disrupted by a single gray streak and added to his calm demeanour which formed a stark contrast to his enormous build. He pocketed a small wand he’d been using which would probably be more like a small staff for an average sized Arcanist and turned to face the group. His blue eyes, guarded by rimless glasses, locked onto Nathan, and a deep, rumbling voice made its appearance known.
“Elevator’s for employees only,” the giant said. “You aren’t employees.”
Without warning, he charged at Nathan, his massive fist swinging in a wide arc. Nathan reacted instinctively, catching the giant’s fist in both hands. The impact sent a shockwave through the air, but Nathan held firm.
“I’m not looking into engineering right now, thank you very much,” Nathan quipped, his voice steady despite the strain. With a swift motion, he shifted his weight and swung the giant over his shoulder, sending him crashing into the hull of another airship.
The second figure, a slender woman with sharp features and a focused expression, let out an exasperated scream as she palmed her face: “Bordo! Could you ever stop annoying me? I was almost finished with this part!” She stomped over and kicked the giant, who groaned in response. Her brown hair resembled a chaotic explosion, perfectly matching her voice—rash and unhinged. She wore a dirty white tank top paired with pants sporting more pockets than anyone could possibly need. Several of them were in use however, sporting all sorts of tools from wrenches to drills.
“Sorry ‘bout that, Aerin,” Bordo muttered, rubbing the back of his head. “We got company.”
Aerin turned her attention to Nathan, her eyes narrowing. “You... You disturbed my perfect workflow. Do you know how much effort it takes to get into the zone? Get over here. I’m gonna wallop you with my mallet!”
She cast a spell while reaching into one of her many pockets, pulling out an enormous hammer. The mallet's head opened and closed with a hiss of steam every time she squeezed the trigger embedded in its handle. Without hesitation, she charged at Nathan, who braced himself to block the incoming assault.
Before the clash could erupt, Hammond intervened. A powerful gust of wind burst from his outstretched hand, sending Aerin skidding back several feet. Though she struggled against the force, she quickly regained her footing, her glare fixed on Hammond. The hammer in her grasp emitted a series of mechanical sounds—ticking, creaking, and finally a faint whistle—followed by another puff of steam escaping its joints.
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“This isn’t the time for a fair fight,” Hammond said sharply. “If we stay here too long, we’ll just attract more attention. Leyra and I will hold them off with the magitechnicians. Darmas, Nathan, Leonard—you three head to one of the airships and get it ready to launch.”
Finn raised an eyebrow. “Darmas may be our leader but do you really think he can prep an airship on his own?”
“No,” Hammond replied. “but I also don’t think these are the only ones who will put up a fight. We’ll join them as soon as we can, hopefully Darmas will have inspected what we’re working with once we arrive. Now go!”
Leonard nodded, gripping the strap of his Spellbreaker glove. “Alright, let’s move. Darmas, I’ll lead the way.”
Nathan glanced back at Leyra, who was already summoning a storm of lightning around her staff. She caught his gaze and offered a quick, reassuring smile before turning back to face their opponents.
“Stay safe,” Nathan said quietly, then followed Leonard and Darmas toward the airship. Behind them, the clash of magic and metal echoed through the assembly hall as the fight began in earnest.
The elevator doors slid shut with a quiet ding, and almost immediately, the platform shot upward, smooth as silk but startlingly fast. Leonard stumbled slightly, grabbing the railing for balance. Nathan’s eyes widened in alarm as his stomach dropped from the sudden acceleration.
“What madman thought it was a good idea to make this thing move so fast and play soft jazz at the same time?” Nathan grumbled, his fingers clutching the railing tightly.
Darmas leaned back against the wall, entirely unbothered. A lazy smile spread across his face as he hummed along to the mellow bossa nova melody. “What can I say? The tune’s catchy. I wouldn’t mind knowing the artist—this could go on my personal playlist.”
The thirty-second ride felt like an eternity to Nathan, whose nerves didn’t settle even as the music hit its most relaxing notes. When the elevator finally stopped, inertia caused all three of them to momentarily lurch forward, almost jumping from the abrupt halt. The doors slid open, revealing the top floor.
The room stretched out in front of them, with three-quarters enclosed by steel walls and the remaining portion a vast, open gap leading directly to the docks. The two airships they’d seen earlier loomed outside, illuminated by the faint glow of industrial lights.
“To the right,” Darmas muttered, gesturing to the only door on the level.
The door creaked open slowly, revealing a figure stepping out, yawning loudly and rubbing the sleep from their eyes. A small stack of papers tumbled from their grip to the floor as they stretched, unfazed by the arrival of intruders.
The man—or rather, the lanky figure—looked utterly disheveled. His yellow shirt hung loosely from his thin frame, and his oversized black pants, held up by two mismatched belts and covered in multiple different sized chains, all of which swayed with his movements. His messy black hair fell over his eyes, giving him a perpetually tired look.
“Silent alarm is such a drag,” he muttered, his voice tinged with exasperation. “You guys really had to make me stop pretending to work.”
Leonard stepped forward, puffing out his chest as he pointed at the figure. “Listen up, buddy! We’re Leonard and Nathan, proud Spellbreakers trained by the legendary Master Hammond himself! We’re here to commandeer one of your airships for our mission, so do yourself a favor and surrender now—unless you want us to wipe the floor with you.” He spun the outer ring of his gauntlet in a circle, until stopping it suddenly, blue magical swirls emerging from the glove - all of which he did to threaten the man.
The lanky man blinked, his expression deadpan as he processed Leonard’s declaration. “Barry’s my name,” he said with a tired intonation. “Look, I can’t be bothered to deal with you, but if I just let you go, Azrael’s gonna flip. Maybe throw me in jail for treason. You know how it is.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Why don’t you just…leave? I’ve got a ton of work to finish, work that I can't be bothered to complete in the first placeand honestly? You guys seem like a hassle.”
Darmas chuckled, shaking his head. “I’ve seen some odd ones in my time, but you might take the cake. Boys, get ready—this one’s not gonna sit still for long.”
Barry let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled his eyes as he put his hands into his top pockets. “Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” In the blink of an eye, he was gone—a blur of motion that zipped past Leonard, Nathan, and Darmas. Before they could react, Barry had doubled back, landing precise kicks to each of them and sending them sprawling to the ground.
“Alright, that should be enough, right?” Barry asked, brushing dust off his shirt. “You’re surrendering now? Or do you need another view of Invisible before you leave me alone?”
Nathan groaned, pushing himself up on one elbow. “This guy’s crazy fast. What the hell?”
Leonard clenched his fist, his jaw tightening in frustration. “It’s gotta be some kind of artifact. Whatever’s giving him that speed, I’ll figure it out—and then I’ll wipe that smug look off his face.”
They both rushed at Barry, taking turns attacking him. Leonard swung wide punches while Nathan unleashed fireballs, but Barry dodged every move with infuriating ease, still pocketing his hands. “You two are so out of sync,” Barry commented, sidestepping another blow as he landed a kick that was invisible to the eyes of Leonard and Nathan both. “It’s almost embarrassing.”
Darmas shook his head, strolling over to the two boys, who were once again sprawled on the floor. “He’s not wrong, you know. You’re getting in each other’s way. You guys need to stop treating this like two one on one fights, Hammond told you: No time for honor. Team up. I’ll distract him. You two figure out how to hit him together.”
Taking a step forward, Darmas raised his crossbow and fired a volley of bolts at Barry, each one aimed just off-center to force him to move. "I knew you'd be a great dancer, great moves! He taunted.
Barry darted around the bolts with ease, yawning as he moved. Meanwhile, Nathan began launching fireballs in quick succession, creating a pattern that left only one narrow path open for Barry to dodge through.
Leonard bided his time, crouching low as he placed a hand on the ground. “Gotcha,” he muttered before slamming his fist into the floor with a triumphant shout. A forest of icicles erupted, each one aimed to corner Barry. The speedster managed to avoid most of them—except one, which grazed his cheek.
Barry slowed down, touching the thin cut with a look of genuine annoyance. “Great. Now I’ve gotta file an injury report. More paperwork! You’re really making my day worse, you know that?”
But Leonard’s sharp eyes caught something. Every time Barry sped up, the mismatched belts around his waist glowed faintly. A grin spread across his face. “So that’s your trick, huh? Nathan, look at his belts!”
Nathan’s eyes darted toward his hip while Barry’s frustration boiled over as he charged at Leonard with reckless abandon, his belts glowing brightly in two different colors. “Alright, no more games! You’re going down!”
Leonard braced himself, with Barry rushing toward him feet forward but Nathan intercepted, landing a solid punch to Barry’s side. Just as the punch connected, all of them could hear a loud boom as the ground trembled and light shot up from below. Darmas chuckled. "Sounds like we're not the only ones still fighting" as the speedster stumbled, clearly unaccustomed to taking direct hits and confused by the light that came from underneath. Leonard seized the opportunity, delivering a powerful blow to Barry’s other side.
“Time to end this, Nathan!” Leonard shouted, summoning his magic. In perfect sync, he and Nathan unleashed a combined burst of raw magical energy, the shockwave sending Barry hurdling away and singing the floor.
As Barry groaned, sprawled and defeated, Leonard put his knuckle toward Nathan, who responded by bumping his fist. Darmas walked over, inspecting the glowing belts. “Good job, boys. These’ll come in handy for you two I reckon.”
Leonard and Nathan each took a belt, crushing them in their hands as the artifacts fused with their gloves. “That guy won't wake up any time soon,” Leonard said, already feeling the new power coursing through him.
Nathan ducked into the room Barry had emerged from. It was an unremarkable office, cluttered with papers and tools. “Nothing useful here I think,” he called out, as he spotted a bronze nameplate, saying "Barry Nevermore, Middle Management of Avisia Aerotech Assembly. “Wait—was this guy seriously the boss of this whole operation?”
Darmas replied while tying up Barry with a rope:”More like the manager. Didn’t really seem like he was very motivated though. Doubted he'd know anything of value once I heard him talk.”
Before they could linger, the distant hum of the elevator caught their attention. The three of them turned, tense and ready, as the platform began its descent.
“Think it’s Leyra and Hammond?” Leonard asked, his voice low.
“Let’s hope so” Nathan replied.
The elevator continued to descend, its destination uncertain. The three men exchanged a glance, bracing for whoever—or whatever—would come up.