Morning in Kyle's camp began routinely. We packed our gear while the mist was still clinging to the roots of the pines.
Kyle stood by the dying fire, sipping something from a tin mug that smelled suspiciously of pine needles and alcohol. His shoulder was tightly bandaged, but he was already moving with more confidence.
"East, to the main outpost," he muttered as Zeno and I walked over to say goodbye. "We need to file a report and patch up Bram. He's got second-degree magical exhaustion."
"We're heading the other way," Zeno replied, slinging a worn bag over his shoulder. "Unfinished business."
"Already?..." A trace of sadness touched his voice. "Alright, hope our paths cross again in the future. Take care of yourself, Iron. If you ever decide to get into sector clearing for real, look me up at the North Node. Brains like yours are a rarity out there."
"Got it," I replied.
We turned and headed deep into the forest. Kyle's squad was left behind, quickly dissolving into the gray morning haze.
We hiked for about three hours. Zeno led me down trails that were barely visible beneath layers of fallen pine needles. The forest felt old... abandoned, somehow. The further we went, the stranger the sights became: rusty rebar jutting straight out of tree trunks, or flat concrete slabs swallowed by moss.
"We're here," Zeno said, stopping by a small, rocky hill.
At first glance, it looked like nothing more than a pile of boulders. But Zeno walked up to one of the slabs, brushed away the dirt, and pressed a barely visible ridge. A dry, grinding click rang out, followed by the heavy hiss of hydraulics. Part of the rockface slowly receded inward with a harsh screech, revealing an opening.
A blast of dry warmth, machine oil, and stale ventilation air rushed out from within.
"Welcome to the Lower Horizon," the old man grumbled, stepping inside first.
I followed, and the slab slid back into place behind me with a heavy, echoing thud. Dim lights flickered behind protective wire mesh cages. A bunker? Old cables bound by plastic zip-ties, copper pipes sweating with condensation, and a steady, low-frequency hum from the ventilation system.
"Everything here is... mechanical," I whispered, running a hand along the cold wall.
Zeno strode ahead across a metal floor grating that clanged hollowly beneath his boots.
We descended three flights of stairs. The walls grew thicker, the hum louder. Eventually, we emerged into a small workshop where two men in grease-stained coveralls were tinkering with control consoles. One of them, short and stocky, looked up and wiped his hands on a rag.
"Zeno? Did you bring the stabilizers?"
"Brought them, Gil. And I brought a helping hand. What's the situation?"
Gil spat on the floor and gestured toward a dark tunnel billowing steam. "Cooling block number four. A pipe blew, flooded the distributor hub. If we don't shut the valve manually, the background mana levels are going to skyrocket. My guys won't go near it—the temp is pushing seventy, and the localized field is completely volatile."
Zeno looked at me. "Want to give it a shot? Your armor has thermal insulation, I've seen it."
I peered into the dark maw of the tunnel. My body was still aching from yesterday, but this was a problem I actually understood.
"I'll go. Give me a wrench and some gloves."
Gil raised an eyebrow in surprise, sizing me up, but he didn't argue. He handed me a heavy pipe wrench and thick rubber gauntlets.
The tunnel was tight. Scalding steam blasted my face, condensing into heavy droplets on my armor plates. I could feel the heat creeping under my gear toward my skin. "Will to Live" flared up instantly, offering to "kill" the discomfort.
"Not now," I whispered.
I dialed the skill down to its absolute minimum—just enough to brace my arm muscles and keep from slipping on the wet floor plates. I could feel the energy flow: thin as a trickle of water, but enough. I pressed forward, weaving between hissing pipes. The water was ankle-deep, scalding hot, and reeked of copper.
There was the valve. Jammed up by some debris.
I threw my weight into the wrench. The metal shrieked. My muscles strained, and "Will to Live" tried to spike the power output, sensing the physical strain. A flash of temptation hit me: just unleash it, go full blast.
"Steady. The lever is a fulcrum. Force is a vector."
I didn't yank it. Bracing my feet against the opposite wall, I applied steady, fluid pressure, throwing my entire weight onto the wrench.
The metal gave. The valve spun shut, and the escaping steam began to hiss out. The water stopped rising.
I waited to make sure the pressure stabilized before finally letting go of the wrench.
Back in the workshop, Gil was already flipping switches at breakneck speed.
"He's alive!" he yelled. "Pressure is dropping. Kid, your timing is impeccable."
Zeno handed me a canteen of water. I took it with unsteady hands. My fingers were burning, my shoulder ached, but there was no involuntary tremor. I had metered the load perfectly. I hadn't let the skill fry my system just to turn a single valve.
"Let's go," Zeno patted my shoulder. "Gil will hook us up with a room in the residential sector. You can crash on some mattresses."
We passed through another airlock into the residential zone. It looked like a barracks: rows of iron cots, communal tables, and the relentless hum of fluorescent lights. They fed us a thick sludge made from concentrates—it tasted like salted cardboard, but it was filling.
I sat on the edge of the cot, pulling off my boots. My legs throbbed. My body felt heavy, filthy, and entirely spent.
"So, how do you like civilization?" Zeno asked, settling onto the adjacent cot.
I looked down at my hands. A blister on my palm, a few fresh scratches.
"It's simpler than the forest. It's clear what's broken and how to fix it."
"The tools are just different here. Otherwise, something is always breaking down, no matter where you are."
I lay back on the thin mattress, feeling my muscles finally let go. "Will to Live" drifted into a deep dormancy, no longer offering its assistance.
We had returned from a mechanical hell into the relative safety of a hub. Sleep claimed me quickly, a smooth, quiet rhythm.
Somewhere nearby, Zeno let out a soft breath.
"The Lower Horizon keeps its secrets..." he murmured. "If you can endure it, you'll get closer to whatever it is you're searching for."
Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!
Use arrow keys (or A / D) to PREV/NEXT chapter