We piloted The Paperweight—formerly The Iron-Lung—away from the bustling main docks, chugging along the coast until we found a secluded inlet sheltered by towering curtains of hardened slime-kelp. It was a graveyard for broken skiffs, quiet and smelling of brine and neglect. Perfect.
"Alright, big guy," I said, killing the engine. The steam drive hissed and died with a shudder. "Time to show me that magic trick."
Vrex stood on the pitted metal deck. He closed his eyes, his stone hands resting on the railing. To anyone else, he just looked like a statue contemplating the tide. To my Kensho, the air around him was warping.
The Locus is a pocket of personal reality sustained by the soul. My Locus, with my Horizon of 10, was like a cluttered rooftop. Vrex, with a Horizon of 55, had a Locus that was probably the size of a warehouse.
"Stasis," Vrex rumbled.
The air didn't just shimmer; it groaned. A massive distortion field wrapped around the boat. I felt a sudden, sharp drop in air pressure as Vrex’s soul exerted its dominance over the physical matter.
Thwip.
It wasn't a slow fade. It was an instant displacement. One second, I was standing on a boat deck; the next, I was falling three feet into shallow water.
Splash.
I landed on my feet, the water soaking my boots instantly. "Warning would be nice!"
Vrex was standing knee-deep in the surf, looking unbothered. He patted his chest, where the massive metaphysical weight of a thirty-ton salvage hauler was now resting.
"Storage successful," he noted. "Though I can feel the engine heat in my ribs. It is... like indigestion."
"Don't burp," I said, wading out of the water. "You might launch a torpedo."
We climbed up the rocky bank to a dry ridge overlooking the distant city. I sat down on a piece of driftwood and opened the money pouch.
Two hundred High-Tide Pearls. Heavy, octagonal, lustrous.
"We have the vehicle," Vrex said, wringing water from his sash. "We should depart for the reef."
"Not yet," I said, weighing a pearl in my hand. "We have two hundred pearls. In the Gyre, that's maybe ten Lucent Shards. It's pocket change. But here? It's seed capital."
I activated the Astrolabe. I didn't look at the map; I looked at the Data-Layer. I cross-referenced Ostracon Exports with Gyre Imports.
This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.
Query: High-value, low-weight commodities legal for export.
The Schema spun, filtering out the bulk goods like kelp and salt. It settled on a specific category.
[Commodity: Sun-Glass Prisms]
[Source: Deep Reach Industrial Zone]
[Properties: Refined alchemical glass capable of storing solar energy.]
[Gyre Demand: High (Used for ship optics and laser-focusing arrays).]
"Sun-Glass," I whispered. "They make it here to capture the light of that artificial sun. In the void, where light is scarce, those prisms are worth ten times their weight."
"Deep Reach," Vrex read the location over my shoulder, or rather, through our link. "That is the Sub-Crust. The underside of the shell-plate. It is an industrial sector. Tourists do not go there."
"Good," I grinned. "Tourists pay retail. We're going for wholesale."
I stood up, checking the Seal of the Transmuted Pearl I’d clipped to my belt. "And thanks to Talo, we have a VIP pass."
We hiked back toward the city, but instead of the gates, I led us toward a massive, brass-reinforced structure jutting out of the shell-floor like a giant snorkel. It was a Guild Transit Station.
Two guards in heavy, pressurized armor blocked the entrance. They took one look at my tattered coat and Vrex’s rough exterior and crossed their spears.
"Service entry only," one barked. "Surface-dwellers use the bridge."
I didn't argue. I didn't plead. I just held up the Seal.
The iridescent shell-disc caught the light. The guards froze. They looked at the Seal, then at me, then at the Seal again. It was a Grade 2 Latent object, radiating the authority of the Guildmaster.
"My apologies, Associate," the guard said, snapping to attention and uncrossing the spears. "The Flow-Tube is active. Destination?"
"Deep Reach," I said, trying to sound bored. "Foundry level."
The guard gestured to a heavy, circular airlock in the floor. "Tube 4. Mind the pressure drop."
We stepped onto the platform. The airlock hissed shut above us, sealing us in a glass capsule.
"Tube?" Vrex asked, eyeing the dark tunnel stretching down into the water below. "I do not like the sound of—"
WHOOSH.
Gravity lurched sideways. The capsule did not dropped; it was fired.
We shot through a transparent tube that ran along the outside of the city’s underwater foundations. I pressed my face against the glass. Outside, the ocean was a deep, crushing indigo, illuminated by the glowing windows of the sub-city. We were moving at breakneck speed, propelled by a rushing current of high-pressure water.
"This is amazing!" I yelled over the roar of the hydro-drive. It was like a roller coaster designed by Atlantis.
"This is a indignity!" Vrex roared, flattened against the back of the capsule by the G-forces. "I am a being of stone, not a pebble in a sluice!"
"Flow with it, Vrex! Be the water!"
"I will be the vomit if this does not stop!"
The capsule banked hard, spiraling down past massive coral formations and schools of bioluminescent jellyfish. The pressure gauge on the wall spiked. We were deep now. The light of the surface was gone, replaced by the harsh, industrial glow of magma vents and alchemical floodlights.
The capsule slowed, the water cushioning our deceleration, and docked with a heavy thud at a station platform. The doors hissed open.
The air in Deep Reach was different. It was hot, dry, and smelled of molten sand and ozone. It tasted like productivity.
We stepped out onto a catwalk suspended over a massive cavern carved into the underside of the world-shell. Below us, rivers of magma were being channeled into glass-blowing foundries.
"Okay," I said, adjusting my coat and checking my internal map. "Welcome to the factory floor. Let's go spend some money."
Vrex stumbled out of the capsule, looking slightly green around the gills, which was impressive for a rock. He shook himself, dust falling from his joints.
"Next time," he grumbled, "we take the stairs."
Ascension Of The Throne[LitRPG/GunSlinger]
Edric Veyra's new reality. He only wants to survive, but trouble knocks like it's DoorDash. He soon realizes he is the fallen heir of House Veyra—once the pillars of the nation, now nothing more than a story.
System. Before he can mourn his luck, he is bombarded by cryptic memories and a weapon magically appears from thin air: a flintlock gun engraved with runes that shoots magic bullets.
"Why did House Veyra fall?"
WHAT TO EXPECT:
- ?? Weak to Strong:
- ?? 'Lite' LitRPG System w/ Minimal Stats
- ?? Emphasis on Party Dynamics (No Harem)
- ?? 1500+ words/chapter & Smooth pacing