Julian shoved his right hand deep into the pocket of his overalls, his fingers curling into a tight, painful fist. The crystal tips of his index and middle fingers felt alien—smooth, cold, and unyielding against the rough canvas fabric. It was like carrying a piece of ice that refused to melt.
He navigated the crowded platform of Platform 9, head down, eyes fixed on the scuffed tips of his boots. Around him, the Central Station of Arcadia roared with the chaotic symphony of departure.
To his left, the "Gilded Deck" passengers were boarding. Ladies in crinoline dresses adorned with clockwork birds that chirped mechanical songs, and men in top hats smoking cigars that smelled of expensive spices. They laughed, their voices light and airy, completely unaware that the beast taking them across the continent was hungry.
They don't know, Julian thought, a wave of nausea rolling in his stomach. They think it's just chemistry.
He passed a vent releasing a cloud of white steam. Before today, the smell of burnt coal and ozone was the smell of home. Now, it smelled like a crematorium.
"Make way! Make way for the Resonance Guard!"
The shout cut through the din like a whip crack.
The crowd parted instantly, fear rippling through them faster than any command. Julian pressed himself against a pillar, pulling his cap lower.
A squad of soldiers marched past. They weren't the regular police in their blue wool coats. These were the elite. They wore armor of burnished copper and black leather, their faces hidden behind masks that resembled stylized gas masks, with tubes running from the mouthpieces to canisters on their backs.
And leading them was a man who wore no mask.
Captain Elias Thorne.
Julian's breath hitched. He hadn't seen Elias in three years, not since they stood on opposite sides of the recruitment line. Elias looked... sharper. He stood tall, his uniform impeccable, the silver epaulets gleaming under the gaslights. But it was the device on his right arm that drew the eye—a gauntlet of intricate brass gears and tuning forks that extended from his elbow to his fingertips.
A Resonator. A weaponized conductor.
Elias walked with the predatory grace of a man who owned the silence between heartbeats. He stopped near the cargo hold of The Iron Sovereign, his eyes scanning the crowd. For a terrifying second, his gaze swept over the pillar where Julian stood.
Julian held his breath, his crystal fingers throbbing in his pocket. Don't look at me. Don't listen to my pulse.
Elias turned away, gesturing to his men. "Secure the perimeter. The Emperor's cargo is sensitive to vibration. Anyone not authorized within ten meters of the fuel tender is to be detained. Lethal resonance is authorized."
Lethal. Julian swallowed hard. He needed to get out. He needed to get back to his apartment, wrap his hand, and drink enough cheap gin to forget the voices in the tank.
He turned to slip away toward the workers' exit, skirting the shadow of the massive coal tender.
That was when he saw the spark.
It was faint—a tiny flicker of violet light, distinct from the harsh yellow of the gas lamps and the azure glow of the Aether. It came from under the cargo carriage, just behind the rear wheels.
Julian paused. A mechanic's instinct was a hard thing to kill. A short circuit?
He squinted. There was a shape huddled in the darkness between the wheels. A small figure, draped in a cloak the color of soot and oil, blending perfectly with the grime of the undercarriage.
Julian took a step forward, his boot crunching on a piece of stray coal. "Hey," he hissed, his voice low. "You're going to get yourself killed. The Guard is right there."
The figure froze. Slowly, a head turned.
From beneath the hood, a pair of eyes locked onto him. They weren't fearful. They were furious. And they were the color of storm clouds.
The intruder wasn't a saboteur planting a bomb. She was holding a device that looked like a siphon—a collection of glass tubes and silver needles plugged directly into the auxiliary Aether line. She wasn't destroying the engine; she was stealing from it.
"Quiet," she whispered. Her voice was raspy, like dry leaves skittering on pavement. "Unless you want them to harvest us both."
"You're tapping a high-pressure line with a glass rig?" Julian whispered back, inching closer, his mechanic brain overriding his fear. "You'll blow the valve. That siphon can't handle the frequency."
"It's not glass," she snapped, her hands moving with a blur of speed to adjust a dial on her device. "It's quartz-composite. Now back off, grease-monkey."
Grease-monkey. The insult felt almost comforting in its normalcy.
Suddenly, the device in her hands let out a high-pitched whine. WHEEEE.
It was quiet, but to a Resonator, it was a siren.
Julian felt the vibration in his teeth. He looked toward the platform. Elias had stopped moving. The Captain's head snapped toward the train, his eyes narrowing. He raised his brass gauntlet.
"Frequency spike detected," Elias said calmly, his voice carrying with unnatural clarity. "Sector 4. Under the Sovereign."
"Run," Julian said, the word exploding from his lips.
The girl didn't need telling twice. She yanked the siphon free, a spray of blue mist hissing into the air. She rolled out from under the train just as a ripple of distorted air slammed into the spot where she had been.
CRACK!
The concrete platform shattered as if hit by an invisible sledgehammer.
Julian was thrown backward by the shockwave, landing hard on his back. His ears rang. Through the dust, he saw the girl sprinting toward the cargo maze, her cloak flapping behind her.
"Target identified," Elias's voice floated through the dust, devoid of emotion. He didn't run; he simply walked, raising his gauntlet again. The tuning forks on his arm began to vibrate, emitting a low, ominous hum. "Suppress."
Soldiers flooded the platform, blocking the exits.
The girl skidded to a halt, trapped between a stack of shipping crates and the advancing soldiers. She looked left, then right. No way out.
She looked at Julian.
He was still on the ground, clutching his bruised ribs. He saw the desperation in her eyes, but also a strange resolve. She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small, metallic sphere.
"Don't!" Julian yelled, realizing what it was. An acoustic flash-bang. In a station made of glass and metal, the echo would be devastating.
She threw it.
The sphere hit the ground.
SCREEEEECH!
A sound like a thousand nails on a chalkboard erupted. Windows on the upper deck of the station shattered, raining shards of glass down on the screaming passengers. The soldiers clutched their helmets, stumbling.
But Elias didn't flinch. He simply clenched his fist. The air around him seemed to solidify, creating a bubble of silence that absorbed the sound wave.
He pointed a finger at the girl. "Bind."
The brass tuning forks on his gauntlet snapped forward. A visible wave of force—like a heat shimmer—shot across the platform. It didn't hit the girl; it hit the metal crates on either side of her.
The metal groaned, bending as if it were soft clay, wrapping around her, pinning her arms to her sides.
"Got you," Elias murmured.
Julian watched, paralyzed. He should stay down. He should stay invisible. But as the girl struggled against the metal trap, the hood fell back from her face. He saw a scar running down her neck—a burn mark in the shape of a gear. A brand.
She was an escaped laborer. If they took her, she wouldn't go to jail. She would go into the tank. She would become the fuel.
The engine is burning people.
Julian's right hand burned in his pocket. The crystal fingers throbbed, syncing with the chaotic vibrations of the station.
Do something, the voice in his head whispered. Break the rhythm.
Without thinking, Julian stood up. He grabbed a heavy iron crowbar lying near the tracks. He didn't look at Elias. He looked at the track switch mechanism at Elias's feet.
He didn't throw the bar. He struck the rail next to him.
CLANG.
But he didn't just hit it. He pushed his will into the strike, channeling the strange, cold energy pooling in his crystal fingers.
The sound didn't echo. It traveled.
The vibration shot through the steel rail, bypassing the girl, bypassing the crates, and erupted directly under Elias Thorne.
The ground beneath the Captain exploded upward in a geyser of concrete and twisted steel.