The building looked like an old factory of some sort. It was maintained, but had seen better days. Considering it bordered on the docks and the Old Ward, it was palatial. Cass walked up to the rusted metal door and knocked. A hulking man with beady eyes cracked the door. His skin was darkened with mana dust and his voice gruff.
"Whaddaya want?"
"Festus sent me."
The man eyed Cass for a second then opened the door. Cass hurried inside. A group of seedy looking characters crowded around a table went quiet and eyed Cass up as they passed by. Cass ignored them and followed the man into the main room of the building. The whir of machines filled the air. The room was lit by blue crystals hovering above small metallic pylons dotting the room. The phosphorescent bluish white mist seeping off them matched well with the chilly air in the room. Cass's skin tingled under the light. Workers were moving diligently, scrawling what appeared to be runes onto various parts that trickled down the conveyor belts winding through the assembly line.
Perfect.
Cass wiped the sweat from his brow. It took him almost 20 minutes to get here, so the effects of his separation were in full swing. He allotted an hour for himself to learn as much as he can. That should give him plenty of time to return safely. Cass was led into a changing room.
"Hurry up and get to work."
He shut the door and left.
Very helpful.
Cass grabbed some of the safety equipment lining the wall: Gloves, goggles, and dark coveralls.
Okay…what now? Guess I might as well explore a bit.
"You new here?"
Cass almost jumped. A thin man with tired eyes and a lackadaisical smile was sitting on a bench.
How long has he been there?
Cass put on a friendly tone.
"Yeah, I just got here."
"You look like a mess. Those mana lights are pretty harsh, huh? If you're already feeling it, you probably won't last long."
Cass smiled bitterly.
"Thanks for the advice."
The man sat cross-legged on the bench. He appeared to be in his early 30s and had bushy dark hair, hazel eyes, and scruffy stubble on his long, thin face. His coveralls were half off, dangling to the floor. Cass broke the silence.
"You are?"
"Ahh, sorry. Call me Henry."
"Alright. No one really told me what to do. Any tips?"
"Who sent you here?"
"Festus."
He laughed.
"Oh man, that crazy old coot? No wonder."
He stood up and stretched. Cass realized why the man had suddenly appeared; he had been sleeping in a small alcove under another bench.
"You're a rune jockey. All you gotta do is slap your little section on the parts that come through and collect your pay at the end of your shift, easy as."
He slapped Cass on the back.
"Come on, you can help me out at my station. The coveralls can protect you from the light a little, but if you start feeling sick, you better take a break. Hopefully you get used to it before too long."
Cass and Henry stood in front of the hulking waxen machine as it dispensed thin, white fibers. Henry would grab each one and scrawl a section of runes with a precision tool. It was easy to tell he succeeded; the runes would glow a faint red. The fibers already had some runes on them when they arrived, so Cass did his best to study them while learning the ones Henry showed him. He wasn't looking for a new job, after all; he just wanted to learn more about sorcery. In his heart of hearts, he believed it was the key to overcoming his Dead trait, and maybe even Autoimmunity. After 15 minutes or so, Cass got the hang of the runes. He also had written down most of the ones already on the fibers. Of course, he had no idea what they did, but he knew they were ones he'd never seen before.
"You're pretty good at this! I'm sure the boss'll be pleased!"
Cass put on his best fake smile and nodded.
I think I've gathered about all I can here.
"I'm not feeling well! I better take a break!"
"Bummer! Sure thing! You held out longer than I thought!"
Cass ducked out of the main room and into a side hall. From what he could tell, the whole main area was used to make these fibers. If he could find the main schematics or some kind of manufacturing info, he might be able to piece together some useful information on sorcery. Luckily, in his current state it was easy to convince the odd thug he came across that he was suffering from mana sickness. Trying to walk it off seemed like as good of a story as any.
Every one of the dullards laughed…
Several offices he searched contained little related to the gang. Finally, Cass came to one that looked promising. To his surprise, the interior was kind of a mess. Empty food cartons, pinups lining the wall, weapons, and what appeared to be blood stains on the carpet.
I don't think the boss has a sense of humor. Better not waste any time.
Cass rummaged through the stacks of papers and shelves looking for anything related to the manufacturing process. Most of the documents seemed to be from the old factory's operations, before the gang took over. Right when he was about to give up, he stumbled upon a folded document in the back of a desk drawer. He unfurled it, and for a moment forgot the terrible pain he was in.
Perfect.
If the document disappeared on his first and only day there…it could be bad. He quickly wrote down as much as he could. The amount of runes on the fiber was impressive. Orientation, line thickness, directions…there was so much to note down. All his focus was on ignoring the pain and getting every letter and rune down he could. Sweat was running into his eyes, but he never blinked. It was nothing compared to the pain the rest of his body was in.
Alright…done.
He folded the paper up and tossed in the back of the drawer. He left the office, slowly closing the door behind him. As he reached the end of the hall he let out a sigh of relief.
"Oi! Snow Cap!"
He froze.
Snow Cap?
Cass turned with an indignant look on his face…but it melted away in an instant. There, with a toothy grin, was Dhall. That wasn't what caught Cass's attention though. Standing next to him, was a man with hair as white as snow; and skin that almost matched. His long, flowing hair barely covered his knife-like ears.
Wait, a man? No, that's not even a demon…It's a lowly, wretched beast.
Cass's rage was burning. He'd never forget that face. It was the same demon who had killed Captain Stanev…At least, he had in Cass's trial. That was enough for Cass to despise him, regardless of what occurred in the real world.
"The ol' bint's errand boy?"
He laughed.
"I knew ya punched too 'ard fer yer own good. A bit o' sorcery, eh?"
Cass smiled.
"Keep it a secret if you can."
He folded his arms.
"Lost 'nother one, did she? How many does that make now?"
He counts with his fingers and laughs.
"Whassa matta? Biddy can't pay ya none?"
"The pay was never that great-"
"Yeah, always been a cheap 'hore, that one! Spread 'er legs fer pocket change!"
He chuckled. Cass forced out a smile.
"After her place blew up, the pay got even worse!"
His grin grew wider.
"She needin' money? Tell ya what, lad…"
He put his arm on Cass's shoulder.
"Ya convince that ol' bird into lettin' me and my boys 'ave a crack at 'er and 'er goods, and I'll get ya a nice li'l payday. How's that sound?"
Cass's whole body was tense and his teeth clenched.
"Really!? Sounds like a great deal! She's pretty stubborn though."
Dhall guffawed. Loyalties in the slum were rare, and Tindra's turnover rate for bouncers was legendary. It still made Cass uneasy, how readily Dhall accepted him being there.
"Dhall."
The demon's voice was flat and stern. It caused Dhall and Cass to go silent and give him their full attention.
"Right, sorry. Hafta finish up the tour of our new facility. Bes' be gettin' back ta work, ya 'ear?"
"Right away."
Dhall and the demon continued on.
"Now, then…before ya head back ta Weismitte, let me show you 'ow much we've accomplished…"
Cass began panting.
Son of a bitch! Why did I have to run into that demon bastard now!?
Cass wanted to tail him, learn as much as he could about him, and destroy him. But now was not the time. He was already late leaving the factory.
I think it's time to head out.
Cass pushed a side door open and staggered into the night air. As he started down the road, a group of guys emerged from the shadows.
"Where ya off to, lackey?"
They were holding pipes and chains. Cass recognized a few of the faces: Some of Dhall's men who'd been on the business end of Cass's fists. Worse than that, Cass could see runes lining their arms and chests. He didn't see any sorcerer around to channel mana for them, but he had to play it safe. Even in his current state, he could probably handle a few normal humans. But this…Cass had to think fast.
"GET THEM FROM BEHIND!"
Cass's voice echoed through the alley. The group turned…No one there. When they looked back, Cass was running in the opposite direction.
Complete morons!
"Get that little rat!"