The air in the lower rings tasted of ozone and ancient rust. Here, the grand architecture of the Palace Spire felt like a different world, a distant, glowing dream that had nothing to do with the damp, crumbling masonry of the Industrial District.
Kael and Jonas moved through the shadows of the massive Clocktower—a jagged monument of iron and brass that served as the primary synchronization hub for the southern sectors. Its gears groaned with a heavy, rhythmic thud that vibrated through the soles of Kael's boots. Every chime of the great bell wasn't just a measure of time; it was a pulse sent through the Mnemosyne Network, anchoring the souls of the citizens to their designated roles.
"We need to keep moving," Jonas whispered, his eyes darting toward the steam-clogged alleys. "The Inquisitors won't just stop because we hit the slums."
"They aren't looking for us," Kael said, his voice low and distracted.
"What? They literally chased us off a balcony, Kael."
"They were looking for the fragment," Kael replied, rubbing his chest. The Architect's blueprint was no longer just a static image in his mind. It was alive. It was shifting. He could feel the Clocktower above them—not as a building, but as a massive conduit of data. "They're worried about the leak. I'm the leak."
The fragment within him pulsed, and the world dissolved into the wireframe overlay once more. Blue lines traced the flow of energy upward through the tower's central shaft. He saw the "Nodes"—the citizens living in the surrounding tenements. Their connection to the tower was a web of thin, shimmering threads. Every time the clock ticked, the threads tightened.
"Jonas, look at the tower," Kael said.
Jonas squinted upward. "It's a clock, Kael. It's loud and it's ugly."
"No. Look at the frequency."
Jonas's interface flickered as he focused. [Ironclad Vanguard – 11%]. His eyes widened as he finally perceived the subtle distortion in the air—the way the shadows seemed to stutter every time the second hand moved. "It's... it's accelerating. The network is pulling harder."
"The gala calibrated the Empress," Kael said. "Now the tower is recalibrating the city to match her."
Suddenly, the great bell tolled.
BONG—
The sound was more than a noise. It was a physical impact. Kael gasped, his knees buckling as a surge of raw information flooded his mind. He saw the city as a circuit board, with the Clocktower acting as a regulator. But the regulator was failing. The energy from the gala was too much; the system was redlining.
"Kael! Get up!" Jonas grabbed his arm, pulling him into a recessed doorway just as a squad of Inquisitors rounded the corner.
They didn't look like the ones at the palace. These men wore heavy, reinforced armor and carried long, crystalline pikes that hummed with a lethal blue light. They moved in perfect, synchronized silence, their porcelain masks reflecting the sickly green glow of the gas lamps.
"Target location identified," one of the masks rasped.
They weren't heading for the alleys. They were heading for the Clocktower's main entrance.
"They're going to force the sync," Kael whispered.
"If they do that," Jonas said, his face pale, "the people in these districts... their rates are too low. A surge like that will overwrite them completely. They'll be hollowed out."
Kael's jaw tightened. He felt the Desperate Father echo stir within his mind. It wasn't just a memory anymore; it was a scream of protective fury. Save them. Don't let them take the light.
The Legionnaire echoed the sentiment with a cold, tactical directive: Sabotage the conduit. Break the regulator.
"We have to get inside," Kael said.
"Inside? Kael, that's a Grade-S Restricted Zone. We'll be deleted before we hit the second floor."
"I have the blueprint, Jonas. I can see the seams."
Kael stepped out of the shadows, his eyes glowing with a faint, reflected blue light. He didn't wait for Jonas to agree. He moved toward the base of the tower, his vision cutting through the stone and steel. He saw a service hatch three levels up, its security rune slightly misaligned due to the vibrating gears.
They scaled the rusted fire escapes, the air growing hotter and thicker with steam. Below, the Inquisitors entered the tower, their pikes glowing brighter.
Kael reached the hatch. He didn't use a key; he simply placed his hand on the rune. He visualized the "Empty Space" within himself—the Vacuum. He pulled at the energy of the rune, siphoning the lock's intent until it simply ceased to function. The hatch hissed open.
The interior of the Clocktower was a cathedral of industry. Massive brass gears, some the size of houses, ground together with a deafening roar. Pistons pumped with the force of a heart, and the air was filled with the metallic tang of high-grade aether.
"Stay close," Kael warned.
They navigated the rotating platforms, Kael leading them through the "Blind Spots" of the internal sensors. He saw the stress points in the central pillar—the place where the energy flow was being compressed.
"There," Kael pointed to a ring of crystalline stabilizers surrounding the main drive-shaft. "If we disrupt the rotation, the surge won't be able to broadcast. It'll backflow into the palace."
"And what happens to the tower?" Jonas asked.
"It probably explodes," Kael said flatly.
Jonas gripped his shield. "Great. I love our plans."
They reached the stabilization ring. Kael began to work, his fingers moving with a precision he shouldn't have possessed. He was following the Architect's logic, unweaving the connections.
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the chamber, cutting through the roar of the gears.
"You are remarkably persistent for an anomaly, Mr. Arden."
Professor Veyne stood on a platform above them, his hands folded neatly behind his back. He wasn't wearing his academic robes; he wore a sleek, white uniform that shimmered with integrated circuitry. His eyes were not human; they were glowing screens of scrolling data.
"Professor," Kael said, not stopping his work.
"What you are doing is a violation of the Natural Order," Veyne said calmly. "The city requires synchronization to survive. Without the Architect's design, there is only entropy."
"The Architect's design is a cemetery," Kael countered.
"It is a library," Veyne corrected. "And you are a smudge on the page."
Veyne raised a hand, and the gears around them shifted. The floor beneath Jonas's feet tilted violently. Jonas yelled, slamming his shield into the metal to anchor himself.
"Jonas, hold the stabilizer!" Kael shouted.
Veyne flicked his fingers, and a blade of compressed air and data slashed across the platform. Kael rolled, the fragment in his mind screaming a warning. He saw the "Attack Line" in the wireframe before it happened.
Veyne's synchronization rate was hidden, but the pressure he exerted was immense. He was an Archivist—a guardian of the record.
"You think you are saving them," Veyne said, advancing. "But you are only delaying the inevitable. The Empress has already claimed the throne. The descent has begun."
Kael reached the final stabilizer. His stability dropped to 66%. The static in his head was a roar, but he forced himself to focus. He didn't look at Veyne. He looked at the "Gap" in the blueprint.
"Jonas! Now!"
Jonas roared, activating his Ironclad Vanguard ability. His shield glowed with a brilliant blue light as he slammed it into the central pillar, creating a massive localized vibration.
The gears screamed. The synchronization rhythm broke.
Kael drove his hand into the stabilizer's core and pulled. He didn't just take the energy; he consumed it. The Vacuum within him expanded, a black hole of hunger that swallowed the tower's primary signal.
The great clock outside stopped.
The second hand froze mid-tick.
For a heartbeat, the entire city of Aethelgard went silent. The hum of the network vanished. The shimmering threads connected to the citizens snapped.
Veyne staggered, his glowing eyes flickering as his connection to the tower was severed. "You... what have you done?"
The tower began to groan, a deep, structural sound of agony. The energy Kael had siphoned was too much; it was tearing at his internal box.
"We're leaving," Kael rasped, grabbing Jonas.
They dived through the steam-vent just as the central pillar erupted in a backflow of crimson light. The explosion didn't destroy the tower, but it shattered the clock face, raining shards of glass down onto the district below.
They hit the ground in a pile of ash and debris. Kael's interface was a mess of error codes.
[Stability: 58%]
[Warning: Critical Overload]
He looked up at the sky. The geometric shapes he had seen in the mist were clearer now. They weren't descending. They were waiting.
The Clocktower was dead, but the signal hadn't disappeared. It had merely found a new host.
Kael looked at his hands. They were glowing with a faint, stolen crimson light. He wasn't just a Hollow anymore. He was a thief, and the Architect finally knew his name.