The halls of the Upper Horizon never knew silence—a faint, persistent hum of magical accumulators lingered constantly, like the buzzing of a disturbed swarm.
Master Valt stood by the panoramic window, watching the gears of the Order's massive machinery turn in the gray haze below. A fleeting look of irritation crossed his face.
"So, the 'battery' escaped," he said without turning around.
Richter, standing three paces behind him, gave a brief nod. He appeared utterly composed, though he was seething inside.
"They used the utility drains, Master. The resonance spike in the fourth sector was merely a distraction. The main breach occurred in the cooling circuit."
"I don't care about the details of their plumbing work, Richter." Valt turned slowly. "Subject Alpha is the key to stabilizing the etheric currents of this entire sector. Do you have any idea what will happen if the Council learns our most promising 'resource' has vanished into thin air?"
"My men are already on it," Richter said, stepping forward and injecting as much confidence into his voice as possible. "The first sweep team has been dispatched to Zeno's cabin."
"Zeno..." Valt sneered with distaste. "An old mercenary playing the guardian. Here is your order, Richter: I want Alpha. Alive, in any condition, so long as his brain can still relay commands to the skill. Everyone else—Zeno included—is to be liquidated at the slightest hint of resistance."
Richter raised an eyebrow, a nearly imperceptible gesture. "Zeno has been a useful tool for many years."
"He was," Valt cut him off sharply. "Now he's a liability. And ready the Hunters. If your standard patrols fail to handle this by sunset, we unleash the hounds."
Richter bowed, accepting the directive.
"And one more thing," Valt stopped him just as he reached the door. "Check the internal security logs."
Richter froze for a fraction of a second, his fingers instinctively tightening around the recording crystal in his pocket. "I will look into it personally, Master."
Meanwhile, in the forest...
I sat on a slimy log, staring blankly at my fingers as they struggled not to shake. Zeno was my exact opposite. Despite his age, he moved through the forest with uncanny efficiency.
"Give me a hand," he called out, dragging an armful of long, pliable branches over to two fallen trees that formed a natural V-shape.
I tried to get up, but my knees buckled instantly, and I nearly took a nose-dive into the moss.
"Just stay put," he grumbled. "You're better off giving me directions."
He began driving the branches into the earth, attempting to construct a makeshift frame. His movements were precise, but I could tell how heavily he was breathing. Zeno had already used wind magic several times to mask our tracks, and even now, a faint static crackled in the air—he was maintaining a subtle barrier to deflect the scent of our camp. On top of that, he'd had to patch up my leg with his healing magic.
"Not like that," I rasped, watching him work. "If you just stick them in straight, the first gust of wind is going to collapse the shelter right on top of us. Interlace them crosswise at the base and bind the tops at a single focal point. Distribute the load."
"Distribute the load, huh... Alright, let's give it a shot."
"And the foliage..." I pointed to the pile of broad burdock leaves he had gathered. "Layer them from the bottom up, overlapping them like shingles. That way the water rolls off instead of leaking inside."
Zeno followed the advice in silence. It was a bizarre sensation, watching my engineering background being applied to a heap of forest debris and twigs.
"You're not bad, old man," I murmured, watching him finish patching the roof of our temporary shelter. "I didn't know you were such a jack-of-all-trades. Actually... scratch that. I did know."
"When it's a matter of survival, you learn quick," he grunted, wiping the sweat from his brow. "I was surviving in these woods long before I ever crossed paths with you."
I smiled, opening my mouth to reply, when suddenly—snap.
The sharp, distinct crack of a branch breaking right nearby.
Instantly, my ears hammered with the heavy pulse of my own blood. I froze, unable to even turn my head.
They're here. They found us. This is it.
Slowly, straining my stiff neck, I looked back, my fingers digging into the bark of the log until it hurt.
Nothing.
I let out a ragged breath, feeling a cold sweat break out across my spine. My hands began to shake even harder.
"It's just the wind, Iron," Zeno said softly. He was standing with his knife drawn, also perfectly still, but his expression remained calm. "You're wound up too tight. Relax."
"Easy for you to say," I muttered, wiping my face with the back of my hand. "I just... I can literally feel them breathing down our necks, Zeno."
"They're far behind us," Zeno said, sheathing his knife and gesturing toward the opening of the lean-to. "Get inside. We need to get at least a couple of hours of sleep. Tomorrow is going to be even rougher."
I nodded, knowing he was right.
While Iron and Zeno prepared to hunker down, the atmosphere in a darkened room high up on the Upper Horizon was entirely different.
Richter placed a heavy hand on the man's shoulder, his fingers digging painfully into his collarbone.
"Tell me, Jerald... do you take us for fools?"