Chương 20: Chapter 19: Cruel Reunion

They approached their target, a light drizzle falling from a grey sky. The Roost of Cranes had been built into a giant, flat box. Its rain-streaked windows sat in tight grids, amber light shifting where droplets ran against glass. Shadows moved about within, but none could catch them from their vantage. The Cranes cared not for anything outside their experimentation. Venworth led the way. They had chosen the skyship entrance as their point of insertion, the drydock now with all traffic cut off.

The delivery door contained detection and lock arrays. This was where Torin could slip through using the stolen Spirit Tag, as the runes were only sensitive against unauthorized trespassers. Casmia would enter with him, wearing a grey Cloak of Concealment from her original gearset. Without the Spirit Tag, she would not have been able to unlock the door. But with her Cloak, her aura became almost impossible to read. Torin checked his status with a grimace.

It was difficult to get the exact timing, but by his count, [Battle-Sighted] had less than an hour left. Perhaps as little as thirty minutes remained as the mental hourglass dribbled through its final grains. Just need to be quick. They had spent far more time than he wanted, but Torin knew everything he was supposed to do now. Being here in person still raised the stakes to another level. This wasn't him lifting some clothes from half-drunk Hawks.

They were stealing one of the most dangerous items from one of the most secure buildings in Vrisgard. Something was bound to go wrong. Venworth tucked his object into Casmia's arms. A "battery," he called it, capable of discharging enough lightning power to make sure the Planar Fragment activated. She accepted the battery with a bow.

"Remember," Venworth said, "the battery is very sensitive to damage and has been calibrated specifically for this Fragment. You will only have one shot at this, Casmia. If you are not in range when the Fragment teleports, you won't be able to escape. That goes for both of you." Torin nodded.

"What about you?"

"Do not worry about me. Oppression is temporary, but freedom is eternal. The revolution cannot be stopped, regardless of what happens with any of us." On that note, he slinked back into the shadows. The pair sprung into action. Torin quickly went for the loading dock, his stolen Spirit Tag ready. The locking mechanism had been designed so that the Tag first needed to be inserted before rotating several times like a key.

Anyone else would have burnt their fingers trying to use the wrong Tag, but [Hot-Blooded] mitigated the pain. The loading bay opened, and the two stepped inside. The interior of the Roost of Cranes was even more foreboding than outside. Narrow passages snaked around laboratories, their roofs vaulted and support pillars ribbed. Sconces burned across every corridor, their amber light flecked with cerulean from whatever mana source powered them. As the sky darkened outside, the sconces grew brighter on their own.

They passed a hodgepodge of laboratories, each with neither rhyme nor reason. One room contained strange beasts in jars, while an alchemist pumped purplish fluid from one jar to the next. Another contained a long, metallic rail with two Cranes on opposing ends. The first dropped a metal ball atop, which floated briefly before firing across the rail, smashing into the wall beside them. The second Crane marked a note before collecting the discarded ball.

Another room glowed brightly, the entire roof a sheet of luminescence. Plants of unusual shape and color swayed within glass shells while botanists collected samples. One stood out from the others. Much larger than the other laboratories, a round interior stretched almost twenty-five meters in diameter. But the center held narrow post with a torus on top, and yellow warning paint drawn several meters away.

Torin almost wondered why, but a Crane adjusted levers as the two passed, and lightning suddenly spawned into existence. Like a tendril made of pure light, it arced through the air, snapping randomly. Torin gaped in wonder, but before he could appreciate the display, it vanished. Casmia glanced over her shoulder a few paces ahead, and he quickly caught up. They continued moving through this strange building. Though they understood the general layout, Venworth's intelligence became greatly limited once inside.

They knew that the Planar Fragment had been moved to a secured upper floor, but they had no way of knowing which one. That forced them to first seek the administrative wing, as the Cranes rigorously documented everything that came and went. This much, they could find without issue. The door stood in front, yellowish light flickering below its rim. Torin wrapped his fingers around his war hammer, ready for what would have to come next. Casmia tapped his arm.

"Wait. We're being followed." He almost looked back out of instinct, but held off. Casmia had superior Perception to him, so she would sense what he couldn't.

"How many?" he whispered.

"Just one. She thinks she's being subtle, but she's not."

"What do we do?"

"Keep moving and find an empty room. I'll handle this one." The pair continued, slowly and deliberately so as to not rouse more suspicion. There were several offices along this floor, but because it was so far past dusk, few remained occupied. With a nudge, Casmia guided him into an empty one, the candlelight still burning. Torin grimaced once inside. Casmia slipped easily into the shadow of the doorframe, but there were no other good hiding spaces, other than a locked closet.

Casmia shushed him before he could snap the lock free.

"She's coming." With no other option, Torin went for the desk, fiddling around papers to make himself look busy. He heard the footsteps coming before the voice, stopping just beyond the boundary of the door.

"Clemian?" a woman asked.

"Is that you?" Torin said nothing, eyes fixed on the papers. He knew that name, taken from the Spirit Tag he'd stolen.

"Forgive me," the woman continued.

"I know you said we shouldn't contact each other anymore, but when you went missing, I… Well, I found a way to monitor the arrays in case you returned. Please, it's important." Torin grit his teeth. He had no answer, no lie, no way to spin this. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Her voice dropped low.

"You aren't Clemian. You're with them, aren't you? You're with those people he got involved with?" He paused and considered this angle. Those two men in the sewers had mentioned a Crane as being the source for their smuggling operation. Maybe he could use this.

"I am," Torin said quietly.

"Please face me," she said nervously.

"I'm not here to cause trouble." Torin complied. The woman stared into him with soft brown eyes, sandy hair falling around an angular face. Her Crane cloak hung loose as she hovered just beyond the rim of the door. Casmia nudged further out of the way, her dagger drawn.

"I just want to make sure he's alright," the woman said.

"He is," Torin lied, "but no one can know we were here."

"How much longer, then? How much longer until you people let Clemian go?"

"Less than a week. He's almost done everything we needed from him." She chewed her lip.

"How do I know you aren't lying? You told Clemian he would be out after that last job, and now he is missing. Where is he?"

"I have proof," Torin said, glancing at Casmia.

"It's right here in my pocket." A wave of relief flooded the woman's face as she leaned forth. But her happiness vanished as Casmia slipped in front and threw her hand over her mouth. Before the woman could so much as scream, Casmia jammed her dagger through the base of her jaw. The woman's pupils dilated and her body spasmed violently, knocking both against the wall with a crunch. But Casmia wrangled the corpse out of view. Torin frowned. By all rights, this should not have needed to happen.

This woman was some lowly Crane who only became involved by following someone else's death. Neither Torin nor Casmia had anything to do with Clemian Sabellun or his scheme. But this woman had involved herself, and there was nothing to be done the moment she crossed their path. They couldn't afford to be seen. Not in a place like this. As Torin watched Casmia pick the lock and stash the dead body inside a closet, he had a somber realization.

Had their situations been reversed, he would have done the exact same thing. With their trail cleared, they returned to the administrative office. The delay had benefited them in the end, as the lights had dimmed and the clerk went home. No one else needed to die. It did not take them long to find what they needed. The Cranes filed paperwork chronologically, with the most recent deliveries found on top. Casmia knew where the Planar Fragment had been sent from, so she found the tracking information immediately.

"Eighth floor," she exhaled. The pair looked at the roof. This would take some doing. They went deeper into the complex, knowing where to go next. As Venworth had explained, every level contained a disposal chute that led into the basement for processing. Since both were small enough, they could also shimmy up to higher floors. Or so Torin thought. As he eyed a narrow hole offering less than half a meter of clearance, he greatly regretted every decision that had led to this moment.

An uncertain smell radiated from the chute, somewhere between medicinal and necrotic.

"Give me your weapons," Casmia whispered before holding out her Spatial Sack. Torin tucked his equipment inside. Far more nimble than he, Casmia disappeared into the chute without missing a beat. She even somehow managed to turn around at once.

"Hurry up before someone else comes." Slowly, inartfully, Torin clambered through the opening. He was not massive compared to adults, but the muscles he'd cultivated after a life of hard labor were working against him here. Scrapes tore where he squeezed about before he found his footing. The smell overtook him. Worse than the sewers, with a pungent, decaying tang. He had to hold his breath to keep from gagging. The shaft was entirely dark once inside, so he was blind as well as sickened.

But his body felt stronger than ever before, and wriggling through this narrow shaft proved easier than he would have imagined. He raced up, his grip tightening along narrow indentations every half meter. Until wrapping along a meaty inner thigh instead, skin soft and warm.

"Hey," Casmia hissed before kicking down. Torin withdrew a rung.

"Sorry." The two ascended quickly, and Torin did what he could to avoid staring straight up whenever Casmia passed another floor's chute. Her Cloak of Concealment concealed very little from this angle. One floor after the next, the two traversed through the Roost of Cranes before finally reaching their destination floor. After another uncomfortable set of movements, he spilled back into the open. Immediately, Casmia had her bow drawn and handed the war hammer back to Torin.

They were too deep into secure territory to explain themselves. Now, they could only kill. The vault sat at the center of the complex. The pair crept forth, hugging the pillars to keep from being seen. What few Cranes in these halls disappeared before intercepting them. Then, they reached their destination. Nullium bars sprawled across an observation window on either side of an iron door, a metallic grid added for extra security. Cranes waddled about within, writing notes as they studied the object in the middle.

And it was there that their target floated above a magical array. The Planar Fragment cast a quivering emerald light, its edges bending and expanding whenever it turned a few degrees more. A second crystal appeared to be layered beneath the first, and a third below that. Each layer was a fractal of the one before, spreading infinitely before disappearing at the center. Just looking at the Fragment mesmerized the observer, so Torin averted his gaze before it became too much.

Casmia took a few paces forth, calmly raising her bow. Torin followed, hands on his war hammer. They kicked down the door and went to work. The first Crane didn't even register the break-in before an arrow took him in the skull. The second saw the hammer coming, but moved too slowly to escape. The third made it a few paces before the next arrow pinned him to the wall. And the last could only raise his hands for mercy before Torin executed him. Blood splattered about as the scientists all dropped.

The rush of experience entered Torin's body again, but felt less intense than before. Despite these Cranes all being well into Silver Rank, the System rewarded combat far more than massacres. His experience only trickled slightly.

"Let's get out of here," Casmia said, drawing the battery from her Cloak of Concealment. Torin's heart froze as he spotted an unforeseen error.

"Wait!" he whispered, a beat too late. She yanked the Planar Fragment from its containment cell and pressed the battery tight. Alarms instantly blared, but she activated the battery's latch with pinpoint precision. Nothing happened. Torin pointed to the battery with a grimace. The chassis had cracked along the base. Casmia's eyes bulged in horror.

"When did that happen?" He frowned. That woman must have damaged the device during her death throes. Now, they had no way out. Footsteps clambered in the distance. The two rushed for an exit, but there was none to be had. The alarms rose in intensity, and guards closed in from every angle. Far faster than they should have…

"Hide!" Casmia ordered, instinctively drawing smoke bombs from her Spatial Sack. She thrust them down the nearest hall. The area became enveloped at once. A squad of four Hawks marched through the smoke, two braced their greatshields together while their comrades scanned safely behind with crossbows drawn. A second identical squad came through before splitting off down another hall. Another pair marched into the open, waving the smoke away. The first was an elderly Crane, eyes narrowing on the empty vault.

"They took the Fragment," the old Crane said, aghast.

"How did you know?" Drelk de Lokthra stepped forth.

"It's my lucky day, I suppose. Will you be putting the complex on lockdown then?"

"Of course! We cannot allow the Planar Fragment t– Wait. I think I know where they will try to flee next." The old Crane bumbled ahead.

"Captain? Captain!" Drelk marched calmly in pursuit.

"Please don't kill them, will you? I'd really like to have a chat with these trespassers…" They disappeared around the corner. Braced against the vaulted ceiling a meter above anyone's line of sight, Torin and Casmia exchanged an uncomfortable glance, their limbs locked as the smoke slowly dissipated below them. The Planar Fragment pulsed between the two, with no lightning energy nearby to trigger its teleportation ability. This just got far more complicated.