The Iron City didn't look like a settlement. It looked like a tumor made of gears and smog.
Rising from the grey ash of the Wasteland, the city was a fortress of black metal. Pipes leaked green mana-steam into the air, and the sound of grinding pistons could be felt in the teeth from miles away.
Kaelen sat in the driver's seat of the lead Crawler. He wore the blood-stained uniform of the mercenary captain he had killed an hour ago. Beside him, Vex adjusted her stolen helmet, her Drow ears tucked painfully underneath.
"Heart rate check," Kaelen ordered, his voice calm.
"120," Vex muttered. "We're driving three trucks full of armed refugees into a city fortified by heavy mana-cannons. If they scan the cargo hold, we're dead in six seconds."
"Then don't let them scan the hold," Kaelen said.
He looked at the rear-view mirror. The other two crawlers were following close behind. Inside them, Lyra and the ninety recruits were hiding under tarps, clutching their rusted rifles.
They approached the massive blast doors. A checkpoint station hung over the road, bristling with sensors and turret nests.
A red laser swept over Kaelen's windshield.
[System Warning.]
[Scan Detected: Identification Protocol.]
[Mask of the Nameless: Active (Disguise Level: Low).]
A voice crackled over the radio.
"Convoy 7-Alpha. You are off schedule. State your cargo and clearance code."
Kaelen picked up the receiver. He didn't use his own voice. He pitched his tone down, mimicking the rough, bored cadence of a wasteland mercenary.
"Delayed by an Ash-Storm in Sector 4," Kaelen lied smoothly. "Cargo is Class-A Mana Crystals for the Diocese. Clearance code: Valerius-Omicron-9."
He read the code from the stolen ledger.
Silence on the radio.
The red laser swept again.
"Code accepted. Proceed to Inspection Bay 2 for biological screening."
Vex stiffened. "Biological screening? Boss, they're going to check for mutants. Half our recruits are sick or mutated from the pods."
"Maintain speed," Kaelen said, his eyes narrowing. "We aren't going to the Inspection Bay."
The massive gates groaned open. The convoy rolled into the outer courtyard. It was a kill box—high walls lined with guards aiming rifles down at them.
A squad of Iron City Enforcers—men in heavy, steam-powered exoskeletons—stepped into the road, blocking their path to the inner city.
The lead Enforcer raised a heavy gauntlet.
"Halt! Engine off! All personnel exit for scanning!"
Kaelen stopped the crawler. He didn't turn off the engine.
"Problem, Officer?" Kaelen leaned out the window, flashing the Church's seal he had ripped off the crate.
"Standard protocol," the Enforcer rumbled, his face hidden behind a gas mask. "We've had reports of raiders using stolen vehicles. Step out."
He reached for the door handle.
If he opened it, he would see Vex. He would see the nervous refugees in the back. The game would be over.
Kaelen's hand drifted to the Mithril Sword hidden under his seat.
'Brute force? No. Too many turrets. I need to outrank him.'
Kaelen kicked the door open, hitting the Enforcer in the chest plate.
CLANG.
Before the guard could react, Kaelen was in his face. He didn't attack. He grabbed the Enforcer by the collar of his exoskeleton.
[Skill: Abyssal Aura (Compressed).]
[Target: Authority.]
"Do you know what happens to 'Standard Protocol' when the Bishop's delivery is late?" Kaelen hissed, his voice laced with venomous intent.
He shoved the ledger into the Enforcer's face.
"This cargo is unstable. It degrades every second it sits in this smog. If I miss my delivery window because you wanted to play customs officer, I will tell the Inquisitor exactly whose name to put on the execution order."
He tapped the Enforcer's badge number.
"Is that a risk you want to take on a Tuesday?"
The Enforcer hesitated. The name "Inquisitor" carried a weight heavier than any law in the Wasteland. He looked at the ledger, then at Kaelen's cold, dead eyes.
He saw a man who didn't fear death. He saw a man who feared his bosses more than the law.
"I..." The Enforcer stepped back. "The manifest says—"
" The manifest says I'm in a hurry," Kaelen cut him off.
"Move your tin can, or I move it for you."
Kaelen climbed back into the cab and slammed the door.
He revved the engine.
The Enforcer stood there for a terrifying second. Then, he waved his hand.
"Let them through! Priority transport!"
The barricade lifted.
Vex let out a breath she had been holding for five minutes. "You have a gift for being an asshole, Boss."
"It's a survival trait," Kaelen muttered, driving past the confused guards.
[Ding!]
[Infiltration Successful.]
[XP Gained: 1,200 (Social Engineering).]
[Location: The Iron City (Outer District).]
They passed into the city proper.
It was a nightmare of industry. Massive smelters poured molten iron into canals. The streets were crowded with workers, cyborgs, and traders, all covered in soot. Neon signs advertised "Cyber-Grafts" and "Clean Water."
"Where do we park?" Vex asked. "We can't just leave three war-crawlers in the street."
"We go to the Slums," Kaelen checked the map. "Sector 9. Low surveillance. High crime. We'll blend right in."
They navigated the maze of rusty streets until they reached a dilapidated warehouse district. Kaelen signaled for the convoy to pull into an abandoned factory.
The doors closed behind them. Darkness swallowed the crawlers.
"Unload!" Lyra's voice echoed from the rear truck. "Security detail, perimeter check! Medics, check the wounded!"
The refugees poured out. They were shaking, but they moved with purpose. They had survived the raid, and now they had survived the gate. They were beginning to believe.
Kaelen stood on the catwalk overlooking his army.
"We are inside," Kaelen announced. "But we are not safe. We have 48 hours before the Church realizes this convoy never arrived."
He turned to Vex and Seraphina.
"Vex, hit the information brokers. I need to know where the High-Grade Crystals are being stored. Seraphina, keep the mana-well stable. If our tech dies, we die."
"And you?" Seraphina asked, wiping soot from her face.
Kaelen looked toward the center of the city, where a massive spire of white metal pierced the smog-filled sky.
[Location: The Church Embassy.]
"I'm going to church," Kaelen said, buttoning his coat to hide his sword.
"We have the delivery. Now I need to find the buyer."
He walked toward the exit.
"If the Iron City is selling its soul to the Light," Kaelen whispered, the shadows around him deepening. "Then I'm here to collect the tax."