The Exhaust-Spire was no longer a room; it was a chamber of howling light.
Nova's mercury tide had turned the Miasma pillar into a solid foundation, but the strain was etched into her silver face. To hold the toxic fog in a physical shape was to fight the very nature of the sky.
"Kaelen!" Jax's voice was a raw plea as he fought his way toward the crystal pillar. "He's fading! The boy's lungs are seized!"
Kaelen didn't answer. He couldn't. He was vibrating. The Miasma energy he had sucked into his Void-Core was fighting the indigo light of his own power. His skin was a map of glowing violet and deep bruised blue, and the air around him was beginning to crackle with "black lightning"—the sound of reality fraying at the edges.
"Look at you," Vespera hissed, her fingers weaving a final, desperate web of silver-glass needles. "A vessel too small for the ocean you tried to drink. You're going to detonate, Little Crow. You'll take this prison, your friends, and that precious girl with you."
Kaelen turned his head. His eyes weren't just glowing; they were twin voids of swirling shadow.
"Then I'll make sure... I aim... the blast," Kaelen rasped.
He didn't draw his sword. He didn't need it. He pulled his fist back, and the air in the entire Spire screamed as it was sucked toward his knuckles. Every bit of the "Burn," every ounce of the Weaver's corruption, and the crushing pressure of the Iron Lung itself was condensed into a single point.
"Void-Style: Zero-G Supernova."
Kaelen punched the air in Vespera's direction.
He didn't hit her. He hit the concept of the space she stood in. The release wasn't an explosion of fire; it was a wave of "erasure." The Garrison guards, the pneumatic pikes, and Vespera's gossamer webs simply ceased to be. They were turned into a fine mist of atoms and blown out through the Spire's reinforced windows.
The shockwave shattered the windows of the Spire, and for the first time in centuries, the high-pressure air of the Lung came screaming out into the atmosphere.
"The pressure! It's equalizing too fast!" Lyra screamed, grabbing a railing as the wind tried to suck them out into the abyss.
Jax reached the pillar, his bionic arm shearing through Elian's remaining shackles. He tucked the boy under his massive shoulder. "Got him! Kaelen! We have to move! The Spire is collapsing!"
Kaelen fell to his knees, his chest smoking. The "Burn" had left his skin charred and blackened, but the violet veins were gone. He had vented the poison, but at the cost of nearly his entire life-force.
Nova was at his side in an instant. She didn't speak. She touched his forehead, and a trickle of silver light flowed from her into him—just enough to keep his heart beating.
"The ship," Nova whispered. "The Silver-Wing is waiting in the downdraft."
They didn't run; they fell.
With the Spire's windows gone, the "exhale" of the Iron Lung became a physical force. They leaped from the shattered platform, Jax clutching his son, Lyra guiding them with her Sona-sense, and Nova holding Kaelen.
The Silver-Wing appeared out of the gray gloom, its Null-Iron hull glowing red-hot from the friction of the escaping air. Lyra had the ship positioned perfectly in the slipstream.
They slammed onto the deck just as the Iron Lung let out one final, mechanical groan. The internal pressure had dropped so low that the bronze bands snapped, and the floating mountain began to tilt, its bellows tearing apart as it descended into the Miasma below.
The Quiet After the Storm
Hours later, the Silver-Wing drifted in the "Sweet-Spot"—the calm layer of air between the high pressure and the fog.
In the galley, Jax was hovering over a steaming pot of broth, his bionic arm moving with surprising gentleness as he fed Elian. The boy was breathing through a specialized mask, his color slowly returning.
"He'll live," Jax said, not looking up. His voice was thick. "He'll have a cough for a year, but he's alive. Kaelen... I owe you more than a hull. I owe you a life."
Kaelen sat on the deck, wrapped in a heavy thermal blanket. His right arm was heavily bandaged, and he looked ten years older than he had that morning.
"Just make sure the broth is good, Jax," Kaelen whispered with a weak smirk.
Nova stood at the bow, staring at the horizon. The star-chart in her mind was shifting. The points of light were growing brighter, and a new destination was forming.
"The first Valve is open," she said, her voice carrying across the deck. "The Iron Lung was the bellows. Now that it is broken, the air will begin to flow again. But the High Spires will be cold. And they will be angry."
"Let them be cold," Kaelen said, looking up at the distant, golden glow of the Spires far above. "They've been warm for too long."