Chương 156: Chapter 155 - Nosebleed

The train broke through the final veil of purple mist like a needle piercing fabric. What emerged on the other side made all three of them stop and stare. The sky dock hung suspended in nothing. A massive platform of sleek black obsidian carved with geometric precision that defied natural formation. Triangular patterns interlocked across the surface, each edge sharp enough to cut light itself. The structure floated without visible support, anchored to the void by forces that had nothing to do with physical laws.

Workers moved across the platform in coordinated efficiency. They wore deep blue uniforms, the color of Vex's royal banner, though these looked older, faded by time and distance from the capital. Their movements were practiced, mechanical, guiding arriving vessels into docking slots with hand signals that looked like ritual gestures. Arthur guided the train toward an empty slot marked with glowing runes. The controls responded smoothly, the vessel settling onto the obsidian surface with barely a tremor.

"Well," Lucid said, peering out the window.

"That is significantly less terrifying than I expected. I was sure we would crash."

"Your faith in my abilities is touching," Arthur replied dryly, releasing the controls.

"I have faith in your ability to apologize after we crash. That counts for something." Ayame stood by the window, watching the workers with that same unblinking intensity. Lucid joined her at the window, his face curious rather than concerned.

"Fate essence. The whole thing is held together by fate essence. Look at the patterns." He was right. Now that they looked closer, the triangular carvings pulsed with faint energy. Golden-white light threaded through the obsidian like veins carrying blood through stone.

"Someone built this," Arthur said quietly.

"Someone with considerable power."

"Or considerable desperation," Lucid added.

"Building in the void is not exactly standard practice. This was either genius or insanity. Possibly both." The train doors hissed open. Cool air rushed in, carrying the scent of led and something else. Something metallic. Copper, maybe. The smell of space? A figure approached. Tall, lean, wearing the same faded blue uniform as the other workers. Their face was weathered, lined with the kind of age that came from years of hard work rather than simple time passing.

They carried a ledger under one arm and wore an expression of professional indifference.

"Welcome to Port Vexis Sky Dock," the worker said, their voice carrying the flat efficiency of someone who had given this speech a thousand times.

"State your origin and purpose." Arthur stepped forward, straightening into his knight posture.

"Arthur Fredrickson, traveling from Vex with companions. We are here on... personal business." The worker's eyes flicked to the Mark on Arthur's wrist. The orange glow was faint but unmistakable.

"Transcendence business," they said. Not a question. A statement.

"You are not the first marked ones to arrive this week. Nor will you be the last, I expect."

"Others have come?" Arthur's tone sharpened.

"Three groups. Maybe four. Hard to keep track." The worker made a note in their ledger.

"Port Vexis is becoming popular. Not sure if that is good or bad yet."

"What can you tell us about the city?" Arthur asked. The worker looked up from their ledger, one eyebrow raised.

"You came here without knowing about it?"

"The queen was not particularly informative."

"They rarely are." The worker gestured toward the edge of the platform.

"You will need to transfer to a boat. The sky dock does not connect directly to land. Follow the falling water to the harbor. It will take less than an hour since the harbor is visible from here." All three of them moved to the edge and looked down. Water fell from nowhere. Not down in the normal sense. Just fell. Suspended sheets of liquid cascading through void, defying every law Lucid had learned on Earth and every law he had observed here.

Boats floated within the water, moving up and down the impossible waterfall like fish swimming through vertical currents.

"That is not how water works," Lucid said flatly.

"Here it does," the worker replied.

"You get used to it."

"I really do not think I will." The harbor was visible far below, a sprawling mass of docks and buildings that spread across solid ground like an infection. From this height, it looked almost organized. Almost planned. Lucid suspected that impression would disappear the moment they got closer. This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"What is Port Vexis like?" Arthur pressed.

"We need to know what we are walking into." The worker closed their ledger, considering.

"Bustling. That is the word most use. Trade routes converge here. Ships from every continent eventually pass through. It is not as large as the capital cities, but it moves more goods than most of them combined."

"So it is wealthy?"

"Parts of it. Other parts..." The worker shrugged.

"Other parts are what you would expect when you cram too many people into too little space and tell them to compete for scraps." Ayame spoke quietly.

"You do not paint a welcoming picture."

"I paint an accurate one." The worker's expression softened slightly.

"Look, you seem like decent people. So let me be clear. Port Vexis is not a place you visit for leisure. It is a place you come to when you need something. When you are desperate. When you are looking for things that cannot be found anywhere else."

"What kind of things?" Lucid asked.

"Anything. Everything. If it exists in the scattered realms, someone in Port Vexis is selling it. Or stealing it. Or killing for it." The worker pointed toward the harbor.

"See those districts? The clean ones near the center? That is where the legitimate merchants operate. Good trade. Fair prices. Mostly legal."

"And the others?"

"The slums. The alleys. The places where the law does not reach because the law stopped trying." The worker paused.

"Though recently, things have been changing."

"Changing how?"

"There is someone. They call him the Generous Scoundrel. Vigilante, criminal, hero, depends who you ask. He operates in the slums, supposedly helping people. Setting up businesses. Giving loans." Arthur frowned.

"That sounds... noble."

"Or calculated. Hard to tell the difference sometimes." The worker shook their head.

"Point is, he has made enemies. Powerful ones. And when powerful people fight, ordinary people die. So if you are heading into the city, keep your head down. Stay out of conflicts that are not yours."

"We are marked by the Transcendence," Arthur said quietly.

"I suspect every conflict will become ours eventually."

"Then I pity you." The worker opened their ledger again.

"Boats are at the main pier. Take any unoccupied vessel. They are public use. Just return it when you are done."

"One more question," Lucid said. His voice had lost some of its playful edge.

"The Transcendence. What do people here think about it?" The worker's expression darkened.

"They think it is the end of the world. Or the beginning of a new one. Either way, change is coming. And change is never gentle." They walked back toward the train station without another word. Arthur, Lucid, and Ayame stood at the edge of the platform, looking down at the impossible waterfall and the city beyond.

"Well," Lucid said.

"This should be fun."

"Your definition of fun concerns me," Arthur replied.

"Everything concerns you. That is your job."

"Someone has to balance your recklessness."

"I am not reckless. I am efficiently optimistic." Ayame's lips twitched. Almost a smile. They moved toward the pier where boats were tethered. Simple vessels, wood and canvas, nothing fancy. Built for function rather than comfort. Arthur helped Ayame step into one of the boats. Then turned to offer Lucid a hand. Lucid stood halfway down the pier. Not moving.

"Lucid?" Arthur called.

"What is it?" Lucid's hand moved to his nose. When he pulled it away, his fingers were red. Blood. Bright against pale skin.

"Lucid?" Arthur's voice sharpened. The playfulness vanished instantly. More blood. From his nose. From the corners of his eyes. Thin red lines running down his face like tears made of copper. Ayame was out of the boat in a heartbeat. Moving toward him with that impossible speed.

"I am fine," Lucid said. His voice sounded distant. Hollow andwrong.

"Just need—" He took a step. His leg buckled. Ayame caught him before he hit the obsidian floor, her arms wrapping around him with desperate precision. The same arms that had once held him while driving a blade through both their bodies. Now holding him to keep him from falling.

"Lucid!" Arthur was there in seconds, hands checking for wounds, for injuries, for anything that would explain this. Nothing. There were no wounds or any trauma. Just blood pouring from his nose and eyes like something inside him had broken.

"What is happening?" Arthur demanded. His voice carried an edge of panic he rarely showed.

"Is it poison? A curse? Something from the void?" Ayame's dark eyes were wide. Genuine fear written across features that usually showed nothing.

"I do not know. He was fine. He was just fine a moment ago." The blood kept coming. Staining Lucid's shirt. Dripping onto the black obsidian where it looked almost purple in the strange light.

"We need help," Arthur said. His knight training fought against rising panic.

"A doctor. A healer. Someone who—" Lucid's eyes rolled back. His body went completely limp in Ayame's arms.

"No." Ayame's voice cracked. The first time Arthur had heard genuine emotion from her.

"No. Lucid. Stay with us." Arthur looked around desperately. Workers had stopped to stare. But none moved to help. In Port Vexis, apparently, people bleeding from their eyes was not unusual enough to warrant intervention.

"The boat," Arthur said. His voice steadied, forcing himself to think.

"We get him to the harbor. Find a doctor there. Now." Ayame lifted Lucid easily. Her strength made him seem weightless. She cradled him against her chest like something infinitely precious. Something that might break if handled wrong. Her hands were gentle despite their killing power. They moved quickly. Arthur helped her into the boat, supporting Lucid's weight as they lowered him onto the wooden planks. More blood stained the wood. Too much blood. Arthur untied the mooring rope with shaking hands.

The boat immediately began to fall. Through the vertical water. Descending along the impossible cascade toward the harbor far below. Ayame knelt beside Lucid, one hand on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat. It was there. Weak.

"Why?" she whispered.

"Why is this happening?" Arthur had no answer. He guided the boat down the falling water, hands gripping the rudder so tightly his knuckles went white. The playful banter was gone. The comfortable companionship was gone. What remained was fear. Pure. Lucid's face had gone pale. Almost grey. The blood had stopped flowing from his eyes but the damage was done. He looked like death. Like something barely clinging to life. The boat fell faster. The harbor grew closer. Port Vexis sprawled below them.

Larger than it had seemed from above. More complex. More dangerous. But none of that mattered now. All that mattered was finding help before whatever was killing Lucid finished the job. The boat hit water with a splash. Real water now. Horizontal. They had arrived. But the celebration of reaching their destination died in their throats. Arthur guided the boat toward the nearest dock with desperate speed.

"Hold on," he said. Not to Lucid, who could not hear. But to Ayame. To himself. To the hope that they were not too late. Port Vexis reached out to claim its newest arrivals.