The red eyes glowed brighter in the tunnel's gloom, twin embers cutting through the steam. Elias Varn tightened his grip on his revolver, its barrel steady despite the Gearheart's pulse against his chest, a rhythm syncing with the steamheart's distant thrum. Mara crouched beside him, her glowing pistol raised, its blue light flickering like a dying star. The clanking grew louder, mechanical and relentless, as the thing in the darkness approached. It wasn't human, wasn't even one of Ironhaven's standard automatons. This was something older, something wrong.
"Stay sharp," Elias whispered, his voice barely audible over the hiss of steam vents. "Whatever that is, it's not here to talk."
Mara's jaw tightened, her bandaged arm trembling slightly from the graze she'd taken in the last attack. "My orb's low on charge," she said, glancing at the device on her belt. Its blue glow was fading, but its runes still pulsed faintly, matching the Cog Altar behind them. "If that thing's Gearwright tech, we're in trouble."
Elias didn't respond, his eyes locked on the shadows. The clanking stopped, and the air grew heavy, like the moment before a storm breaks. Then it emerged—a hulking automaton, its brass frame pitted with rust but gleaming with menace. Its body was a patchwork of gears and pistons, but its head was a nightmare: a featureless dome with those red eyes, unblinking, set in a mask of polished steel. It moved with a predator's grace, each step a precise clank, its arms ending in blades that hummed with steam-powered precision.
"Move!" Elias shouted, shoving Mara aside as the automaton lunged. Its blade slashed through the air, grazing his coat and sparking against the tunnel wall. He fired his revolver, the bullet pinging off the machine's chest, leaving only a dent. "Damn it, what's this thing made of?"
Mara rolled to her feet, firing her pistol. A pulse of blue energy hit the automaton, and it staggered, its eyes flickering. "Tungsten alloy, my guess," she said, breathless. "Gearwrights don't mess around. Keep it busy!"
Elias dodged another swing, diving behind a rusted pipe. The automaton's blades carved through metal like paper, steam hissing from its joints. He aimed for its eyes, firing twice—both shots ricocheted, sparking in the dark. The Gearheart burned hotter, and a vision flashed: a forge, molten steel pouring into a mold, a voice chanting, The god's will is iron. He shook it off, cursing. Now wasn't the time for ghosts in his head.
Mara darted to the Cog Altar, her orb now barely glowing. She slammed it into a slot on the altar's base, and the chamber shook, gears grinding louder. The automaton froze, its eyes dimming, then flared red again, turning toward her. "Mara, what the hell are you doing?" Elias yelled.
"Buying time!" she shouted, twisting the orb. A burst of blue light erupted, and the altar's runes glowed brighter, their red hue clashing with her tech. The automaton screeched—a sound like tearing metal—and charged her.
Elias tackled it, his shoulder slamming into its frame. Pain shot through him, but he held on, grappling its blade-arm. The machine was strong, its gears grinding as it tried to shake him off. "Mara, now!"
She yanked a lever on the altar, and a steam vent above exploded, dousing the automaton in scalding mist. It staggered, its joints seizing, and Elias drove his revolver's butt into its eye, cracking the lens. The machine collapsed, its red glow fading, but not before its other arm grazed his side, tearing his coat and drawing blood.
Elias stumbled back, clutching his ribs. Mara ran to him, her pistol still raised. "You alive?" she asked, her voice sharp but laced with worry.
"Barely," he grunted, wincing. Blood seeped through his shirt, but the cut was shallow. The Gearheart pulsed, its warmth dulling the pain, and he fought another vision threatening to pull him under. "What was that thing?"
Mara knelt by the automaton, prying open a panel on its chest. Inside, gears ticked faintly, etched with runes matching the Cog Altar. "A sentinel," she said, her voice low. "Gearwrights use them to guard sacred sites. This one's old—pre-Ironhaven, maybe. Someone woke it up."
"The Order," Elias said, his mind racing. The masked figure's words—The god wakes soon—echoed in his skull. Thane's murder, the cogs, the Machine God—it was all connected, and this sentinel was proof the Order wasn't just a cult. They had tech, resources, and a plan.
Mara stood, pocketing a rune-etched gear from the sentinel's chest. "This wasn't random. They knew we were here. Your pendant's glowing again, by the way."
Elias glanced down. The Gearheart was radiant, its runes shimmering like embers. He tucked it under his shirt, ignoring the heat. "We need to get to the core," he said. "If the Order's guarding this, Thane's secret is there."
Mara hesitated, her eyes flicking to her orb, now dark in the altar's slot. "My tech's tied to this, Elias. I didn't tell you everything. The orb—it's not just a tool. It's a key, stolen from a Gearwright lab. Thane was after it, too."
Elias's hand twitched toward his revolver. "You knew Thane?"
"Not personally," she said quickly. "But I heard him talking in the Underworks, weeks ago. He wanted my orb, said it could control the steamheart. I didn't trust him, so I ran. Next thing I know, he's dead."
"And you didn't think to mention this?" Elias's voice was low, dangerous. The Gearheart hummed, and a vision flickered—a woman's silhouette, holding an orb, standing before a blazing core. Mara's face?
"I'm telling you now," Mara said, meeting his gaze. "You want answers, we go deeper. But we're walking into a trap."
Elias stared at her, weighing her words. She was trouble, Harrow had warned, but she'd saved his life twice now. The Machine God's voice, the runes, the sentinel—they were closing in, and he couldn't do this alone. "Fine," he said. "But no more secrets."
She nodded, retrieving her orb. Its glow was gone, but the altar's runes still pulsed, as if alive. The chamber felt smaller now, the steam thicker, the Machine God's presence heavier. Elias led the way, his lantern casting long shadows down a new tunnel, its walls lined with more murals—figures kneeling to a cog-crowned deity, their hands raised in worship.
The tunnel sloped downward, the air growing hotter, the steamheart's pulse louder. Elias's side ached, but he pushed on, the Gearheart guiding him like a compass. Mara followed, her pistol ready, her silence heavy with unspoken truths. The tunnel ended at a massive iron door, its surface carved with a single rune: a cog within a cog, glowing faintly red.
"Core's behind this," Mara said, her voice barely a whisper. "Last chance, detective. We open it, there's no going back."
Elias touched the Gearheart, its warmth steadying him. Another vision hit: a chamber of fire, gears spinning, a voice roaring, *The cogs turn. You are mine.* He blinked it away, his hand on the door's lever. "We're already in too deep."
He pulled, and the door groaned open, revealing a cavern vast enough to swallow Ironhaven's skyline. At its center, the steamheart loomed—a colossal furnace of brass and iron, its surface pulsing with red runes. Pipes snaked from it, feeding the city above, but it was the sound that stopped Elias cold: a low, rhythmic hum, like a heartbeat mixed with a hymn. The Machine God was here, and it was awake.
Mara gasped, her orb flickering back to life. "Look," she said, pointing to a platform above the steamheart. A figure stood there, cloaked in Gearwright robes, holding a blade that gleamed with red light. Beside them, a machine hummed—a smaller version of the steamheart, its gears spinning with unnatural speed.
"That's no Gearwright," Elias said, his revolver raised. The figure turned, their mask identical to the one in the Cog Altar chamber—brass, cog-shaped, eyeless. They raised a hand, and the smaller machine flared, sending a shockwave through the cavern. Elias and Mara dove behind a pipe, the blast shaking the ground.
"Stay down!" Elias shouted, but Mara was already moving, her orb glowing brighter. She fired a pulse at the machine, and it sparked, its gears slowing. The masked figure hissed, their blade slashing through the air, and another sentinel emerged from the shadows, its red eyes locking onto them.
Elias fired, his bullets useless against its armor. Mara's orb pulsed again, and the sentinel staggered, but the masked figure was faster, leaping from the platform with inhuman grace. They landed before Elias, their blade inches from his throat. "You cannot stop the awakening," they rasped. "The Machine God claims its herald."
The Gearheart burned, and a vision consumed Elias: the steamheart exploding, gears raining like stars, Ironhaven crumbling. He saw himself, holding the Gearheart, its runes blazing as the Machine God spoke his name. He snapped back, shoving the blade aside and tackling the figure. They rolled, the blade clattering away, but the sentinel charged, its arm swinging.
Mara fired again, her orb's pulse hitting the sentinel's core. It collapsed, gears scattering, but the masked figure vanished into the steam, their laugh echoing. "The cogs turn, Varn. You'll see."
Elias staggered to his feet, his side bleeding again. Mara grabbed his arm, her face pale. "We need to shut that machine down," she said, nodding at the smaller steamheart. "It's feeding the core, amplifying it."
Elias nodded, his vision swimming. The Gearheart was a fire against his chest, its runes glowing through his shirt. He stumbled to the machine, its gears etched with the same runes as Thane's cog. Mara worked beside him, her orb slotted into a panel, its blue light clashing with the red. "This is old tech," she muttered. "Older than the city. If we break it, the steamheart might destabilize."
"Do it," Elias said, his voice hoarse. The Machine God's hum was deafening now, a voice in his skull: You are the cog. He ignored it, helping Mara pry open the machine's core. Inside, a crystal pulsed, its light red and alive.
Mara smashed it with her wrench, and the machine screeched, its gears grinding to a halt. The steamheart's pulse faltered, then steadied, but the cavern shook, pipes groaning. "We need to go!" Mara yelled, pulling Elias toward the door.
They ran, the tunnel collapsing behind them. Steam burned Elias's lungs, but the Gearheart kept him moving, its warmth a lifeline. They reached the hatch, scrambling into the Underworks as the cavern sealed itself, the steamheart's hum fading to a whisper.
Outside, Ironhaven's fog greeted them, cold and familiar. Elias leaned against a wall, catching his breath. Mara's orb was dark again, her face grim. "That machine was a trigger," she said. "The Order's trying to wake the Machine God. Thane must've been close to stopping them."
"Or helping them," Elias said, his mind on the visions. The Gearheart was quiet now, but its weight felt heavier. "We need to find the Order's base. And you're telling me everything about that orb."
Mara met his gaze, her defiance softening. "Tomorrow, detective. We're both bleeding, and the city's watching."
Elias nodded, the Machine God's voice still echoing in his skull. Thane's killer was out there, and the steamheart was waking. He wasn't just chasing a murderer anymore—he was chasing a god.
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