Chapter 6: A Dead End

  We rushed up the staircase to the third floor – Casten, Ainsworth, Alice, myself, and five others – with the Eye Sentry following us silently.

  The floors were blood-streaked, covered in dead bodies and broken valets. Tables had been overturned or crushed completely together with the exhibits that stood on them just an hour ago.

  My eyes darted instinctively to where Trent and I had stood with my Chrono Quill.

  The man who’d been next to us – the one with the ridiculous flipping coin invention – was there. Or what was left of him. His torso ripped open, legs broken at an impossible angle.

  Just a few meters over, the space where the girl and her loud machine stood was empty. No blood or body.

  But I didn’t remember seeing her downstairs with the other survivors.

  Where did she go?

  I didn’t get to linger on the thought. Casten had already moved ahead and gestured sharply.

  “There,” he said, pointing to the locked doors next to where her exhibit once stood. “That’s the access to the main stairwell and lifts.”

  “Lifts?” One of the survivors – a young woman with short dark hair – muttered. “But Valdemar – “

  “I know.” Casten cut her off. “Lifts are out of the question for obvious reasons. We’ll take the stairs.”

  That much was obvious. If Valdemar controlled the building, then the moment we stepped into a lift, it would likely crash. Or worse.

  I shot a glance at the Eye Sentry, expecting Valdemar to say something through the phonotubes. But the silence remained.

  I followed the others toward the mechanical doors reinforced with magitek locks glowing faintly white along the seams. Besides the door, a small rectangular screen awaited input – an identity scanner similar to the ones the Patrol Units had.

  Casten stepped forward and extended his COG toward the scanner. The screen blinked once…then flashed red.

  He scowled. “Figures it wouldn’t be that easy.”

  That was when the phonotubes hissed to life again and Valdemar’s voice came through, composed as before.

  “I told you the Divine is mine now, Casten.” Valdemar said. “Silly of you to think you still had clearance.”

  Casten clenched his jaw, turning to the Eye Sentry. “I’ll just blast these doors down.”

  “There’s no need for such violence.” Valdemar replied. “The time for that will come later.”

  A second after, the iron doors clicked and hissed as the locks disengaged, and they slid open.

  “Come on up.” Valdemar continued, the voice almost beckoning now. “I’m waiting.”

  “Waiting?” Casten echoed. “Where are you exactly?”

  But Valdemar didn’t respond. The phonotubes went mute again.

  “I don’t like this...” Ainsworth muttered.

  Casten Vorrick sighed deeply, then turned to us. “Follow me.”

  We moved through the doors in a hurry.

  To the left were the lift shafts – two of them. They were massive. The lifts themselves weren’t there. By the indicator above each of the shafts, we could tell they were somewhere upstairs. Likely loading the automatons Valdemar had threatened us with.

  To the right: the stairwell. Wide. Utilitarian. Clearly not meant for visitors. The walls were bare metal with pipes running along the edges. The smell of oil and rust filled the air.

  We climbed.

  Then, the sound came – a low mechanical grind, followed by rhythmic stomps, all echoing down the stairwell from above.

  “Move!” Casten barked. “They’re already coming!”

  We pushed harder.

  My legs burned from the strain, but the adrenaline was enough to keep me from stopping. The others – except for Casten and Ainsworth – were breathing hard too, but no one slowed down.

  Floor 6 passed.

  “We’re almost there!” Casten called out.

  The sound above grew louder the higher we got – closer. The clank of gears. Pressure vents hissing. The humming of magitek.

  We reached the landing of Floor 7 – the doors sealed shut.

  Above us, the stairwell thundered with the approach of Ironwatch’s secret monstrosities.

  Casten approached the panel, but didn’t even try to scan his COG this time. He turned to the Eye Sentry that was still following us.

  “Open it up already! You said you’re waiting, right?” Casten snapped.

  Silent seconds stretched painfully long. The only sounds were our breaths and the shrieking screech of automatons closing in above.

  Then, at last, the doors’ locks clicked, and they opened.

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  Nobody waited. Everyone surged through the opening as the first shadow dropped into view above the stairwell. Casten was the last one in, right before the doors slid close behind him with a metallic thud and click – the lock activated.

  For a moment, we all stood still and stopped breathing – expecting the automatons to burst through and unleash havoc. But they didn’t. We could still hear them, though – the clanking of metal limbs echoing from the other side, marching toward the first floors.

  Floor 7 was very different compared to the first three floors of the Divine. There weren’t any halls, just a long brass corridor with the occasional door leading to a room on both sides.

  “We don’t have time to rest. Caldra and the rest are down there, and we need to get an opening for them.” Casten said sharply, his voice pulling everyone to attention. “After me.”

  He broke into a run, and the rest of us followed behind closely.

  “It’s the last room on the left.” He said.

  But we hadn’t gone even ten steps when it happened.

  From the shadowy ceiling above, a massive metallic spike shot down, impaling the man ahead of me straight through the chest.

  He didn’t even have time to scream.

  Hid body convulsed as the spike – no, a segmented tail – lifted him clean off the ground and threw him violently against the wall to our side, smashing him against it.

  We all froze.

  Then it came into view.

  A large brass scorpion-like automaton clung to the ceiling. It had six long limbs, fitted with clawed talons that gripped the metallic ceiling. Its red-lit head and torso shifted, as if adjusting itself to face us – and the same dark liquid from before seemed to be pouring out of it but never reaching the ground. Trailing beneath it, curling and uncurling in slow, mechanical rhythm, was the same tail – long, blood-slicked, and lethal.

  It watched us intently. Waiting.

  Is this one of the monstrosities Valdemar spoke of?! Ironwatch’s secret project?!

  Valdemar wasn’t lying. The Ironwatch were developing prototypes of automatons no one had ever seen before. But for what reason? To fight who?

  I lifted my COG and scanned it.

  [Project X: The Impaler – level 100]

  I swallowed hard, my heart pounding against my chest wildly.

  Could this thing even be compared to our COGs like the regular automatons? If so…it was beyond maxed out.

  “What is that thing?!” A man from our group shot at Casten, his knees visibly shaking.

  Casten didn’t take his eyes off the machine. He sighed deeply. “A mistake…”

  The phonotubes crackled to life once more.

  “Tell them the truth, Vorrick.” Valdemar said with an eerily calm voice. “They deserve to know before they die. Don’t they?”

  Silence.

  Alice broke it.

  “Casten…” she said quietly. “What is this?”

  He looked at her. His eyes were heavy – full of regret, full off secrets. I didn’t know what kind of relationship they had, but it was clear they weren’t just fellow oligarchs.

  Everyone waited for an answer. Seemingly, even the Impaler was.

  Instead, Vorrick turned to Ainsworth, giving him a sharp nod. The man returned it wordlessly.

  “The people downstairs still need our help.” Casten said, turning toward the rest of us. “We’ll hold it off. The rest – push to the last room on the left. Manually lift the lockdown. That’s all that matters.”

  “A liar to the very end.” Valdemar said before the phonotubes shut down.

  Then, without waiting for anyone’s agreement – Casten sprinted toward the hanging machine, drawing his sword mid-run. The weapon unfolded with a sharp metallic snap, extending into a long blade. Without hesitation, he jammed a Kinetra into his COG. Instantly, his body surged with orange aura – his steps became faster, each movement enhanced with unnatural speed and strength.

  The Impaler hissed, firing its tail at him like a spear. But Casten dodged, sliding under the incoming strike and springing onto the wall to his left.

  As Casten dashed along the wall – literally ran along the vertical surface – he slid an Ignis into his COG.

  Flames enveloped his hands before he shot balls of pure fire at the mechanical monster, forcing it to withdraw two limbs from the ceiling to dodge.

  Casten continued pressing on, springing at the Impaler from the wall, flying with incredible force as he attempted to strike it.

  Meanwhile, Ainsworth joined from behind. He jammed a Cryora into his own COG and aimed it toward the hanging automaton. Thin spears of ice shot forward from the tips of his fingers, hitting the joints of the thing, freezing segments of it as they landed. Then, he unholstered his handgun and released rounds of led bullets at the frozen areas.

  But nothing happened.

  The spider-like creature shattered the ice and kept moving on the ceiling, undeterred, meeting Casten’s attack head-on, firing its tail at him.

  Casten spun mid-air, deflecting the strike with his sword. Sparks flew as the blow connected, sending Casten backward.

  He landed gracefully on the ground, before launching another attack.

  “Viktor!”

  Alice’s voice rang in my ears.

  I turned to her. She grabbed my sleeve, fighting for my attention.

  “Come on,” she said. “They’re buying us time. We need to use it to get to the manual override!”

  I glanced behind us – the rest of our group was fleeing. They ran back down the corridor, toward the stairwell and away from the fight.

  I couldn’t blame them. But it was still foolish – there was an army of automatons descending those same stairs.

  My mind raced.

  I didn’t owe these people a thing.

  If anything, I was dragged into this mess because of them. Valdemar’s methods were extreme, but the hate for Skyhaven wasn’t unjustified.

  Of course I wanted to save Trent, but against something like this, what could I even do?

  Perhaps I should just escape to one of the rooms here.

  Alice tugged my sleeve again. “Come on, Viktor, I need you.”

  Need me? What does she plan to do? The corridor was so narrow that running forward toward the final door meant passing directly under the Impaler.

  That was suicide.

  I shook my head. “It’s suicide, Alice! It’ll strike us down!”

  She didn’t back off. “Not when Casten has its attention. We can do this. The people downstairs – they need us!”

  I shook my head more aggressively. “It won’t work, Alice.” I gestured toward the closest door to us. “Let’s hide there.”

  She stared at me for a moment. Her expression shifted – from frustration, to disappointment, to disgust.

  She turned away without another word – and sprinted. Toward the override room.

  Everything I envisioned happened almost instantly.

  The moment the others flung open the stairwell doors – more like they were opened by Valdemar – they were met with death. Automatons poured inside – humanoid units larger than the usual ones the Ironwatch used, and others in different shapes and sizes. They tore through the retreating survivors in seconds – cutting, ripping, stomping.

  And Alice? The Impaler noticed her the instant she dashed beneath it. A second tail flicked like a whip. It speared through her back and out her chest.

  She collapsed mid-step.

  My heart twisted.

  Casten roared with rage and his focus broke. That was all it took. The Impaler twisted and swung with a third tail.

  Casten fell into two clean pieces.

  Ainsworth screamed something. I’m not sure what. Then he fell as well, his firearm clattering beside his impaled corpse.

  I remained alone.

  The stairwell automatons were advancing from behind. The Impaler, on the other hand, skittered across the ceiling in my direction.

  I stumbled backward and fell. My legs shook. My hands trembled. My heart thundered.

  The Eye Sentry circled me. Then, the phonotubes suddenly creaked.

  “You’re still alive?” Valdemar’s voice rang through, sounding curious.

  Then, silence.

  But the automatons didn’t stop. They kept coming.

  I still had the crystals Casten gave me – four reds, one purple.

  I could try. Maybe I should try.

  But no.

  There were too many.

  Then, the phonotubes cracked one more time. For the first time, Valdemar sounded confused rather than confident. “I can’t stop them – “

  I couldn’t hear the rest.

  It was too late.

  The Impaler’s stinger had already struck me.

  A chilling feeling enveloped me.

  Life didn’t flash before my eyes – they lied.

  I thought about Trent who I’ve made my assistant to save him from a harsher life – only to bring him to his demise here. He was probably so scared right now.

  I thought about my father and how I had failed to send him a simple message to let him know I was okay. He was probably so worried right now.

  And then, I died.

  Except…I didn’t.