Dawn bled pale gold over the ridge. Kael woke to rope creaking above his head as the chain links settled after a night of restless tugging. The Leviathan's sigh rolled through stone—a reminder that six anchors still needed holding. He rose, rolling stiff shoulders. No nightmares, but a single thought lingered:
Spark-Bound isn't enough forever.
He packed the Nullglaive, feeling the silver seam hum against his palm. Someday the blade would ask more of him; today it only asked that he climb.
Rei appeared with steam curling from a tin mug. "Stolen tea," she said, half-smile crooked. "Silver-Leaf left a pot at dawn."
"You paid?" Kael teased.
"Promise of rescue counts as down payment."
Thorn tightened vambrace straps. Emberguard runes flashed soft amber—overnight heat stored and ready. Veyra's fox and wolf masks glided like loyal shadows. Elias flexed his gauntlet. The crystal brace had survived yesterday's Gravity Net but sported a new spider-web crack. Its three Veil-shard lenses didn't store power—they bent his own Essentia into precise gravity lines, and every heavy cast carved more fractures into the glassy array. Two Small Pushes left, no big Net until he found fresh lenses.
They left the fissure, ascending a slanted ladder of chain mesh to the next span: a narrow artery that carried wind the way rivers carry floodwater. Ropes already quivered where other climbers had staked them. At the entrance a rusted sign read WIND-TUNNEL CHAIN — SPARK-BOUND ONLY in faded glyphs. Someone had scratched beneath:
Bring strong fingers or goodbye fingers.
Kael eyed the tensioned rivets. "Crosswinds clock at forty knots," Elias reported, flicking a wind-meter bead. "Gusts spike higher. No ghosts, but atmosphere's brutal."
"Plan?" Rei asked.
"We rope together in pairs," Kael said. "Thorn anchors front. Veyra's fox runs wind scout twenty steps ahead—she recalls it if drag gets too high. Elias monitors gust rhythm; Small Push corrects if rope angles go bad. Rei grounds lightning only if someone slips. I clear bolts with the glaive."
Thorn hammered a spike into link plate, looping cord through shield ring. Rei tied Reeves knots—quick, sturdy. When ready, the cohort looked across the chain: 150 metres of iron-woven catwalk rimmed by nothing but moving air.
Wind hit like a slap. Thorn leaned into the gust, shield forward, body forming a living wedge. The rope stretched behind him; Kael followed one pace offset, Nullglaive blade down to use as staff. Veyra's fox sprinted ahead, spectral paws sparking blue each time they touched iron; the gusts made the figment ripple, but its three-second solidity rule kept its feelers intact.
Elias counted under his breath. "Two beats calm, one beat gust. Pattern repeats every eight seconds." His gauntlet wheels spun softly. When a crosswind threatened to yank the rope sideways, he spent a single Essentia. Small Push nudged Kael's hip just enough to correct angle. The brace whined but held.
At sixty-metre mark the chain narrowed, plates missing. They'd need to cross a gap where wind screamed unobstructed. Thorn hammered a new spike, anchoring rope ahead of the break. "Shield won't bridge," he growled.
Kael studied the gap. Nine metres. Too far for a simple leap; crosswind would bite mid-air. Nullglaive hummed—as if sensing question. The silver seam glimmered, then quieted. Not yet.
He turned. "Elias. Think you can angle a Push under my boots when I jump?"
Elias's face tightened. "One Push left after that."
"Make it count." Kael unclipped from rope, leaving it slack. Rei hissed but let him work. He inhaled wind, gauged its pulse: three, two—jump. At apex, gale blew his coat upward; momentum stalled. Elias's gauntlet wheels flashed; an invisible palm slapped Kael's soles, pitching him forward. He landed hard on the far side, Nullglaive blade biting iron to arrest slide. The gap moaned behind him.
Quickly he hammered a spike and threw rope back across. Thorn belayed Veyra first—her fox flickered out, reformed on Kael's side, tail wagging as if to mock gravity. Rei Blinked the gap—two Essentia—landing in a crouch. Thorn followed last, shield over head to cut crosswind.
They pressed on. At ninety-meter mark Daric Rhal of Malkyre appeared—magnet boots sparking as his Sigil clamped to chain. He smiled thin. "Didn't expect the Ashwin heir tethered like a merchant sailor."
"Falls look the same for everyone," Kael said.
Daric pointed to Kael's weapon. "That glaive interferes with Essentia current. Mind if I study closer?"
"Study it from your side," Kael answered. Rival nodded, sprinted ahead, leaving ozone tang in his wake.
Final twenty metres narrowed again, but now chain plates sang with tension—wind hit at cross-angles, twisting torso and rope. Veyra's fox dissolved; she grunted, paying another Essentia to resummon. Thorn's shield glowed hotter; Emberguard absorbed friction heat from gusts slamming metal. He vented a controlled flare: hot air ballooning upward, slightly calming crosswind vortices.
They reached the anchor hood—iron dome half fused with chain flesh. Runes blinked orange: partial overload. Worse, a long fissure hissed lightning arcs into open air, making wind crackle.
"Grounding field," Elias assessed. "We bleed charge or next gust detonates."
Rei stabbed dagger; Stormbind rope chained lightning to Thorn's shield. Emberguard drank voltage. Wolf mask braced tension. Nullglaive's seam brightened; Kael flicked a hidden lever. Blade edge opened a conductive vent in charged metal. Runes realigned, glow flushing harmless steam.
Anchor Surge bled — Veilcore +3Nullglaive function • Grounded Cut unlocked(Opens vent in charged metal once per hour.)
Wind dropped to a steady breeze. Everyone unclipped rope and fell back onto the broader shelf behind the hood. Elias sat, bracer ticking but stable. Veyra dismissed masks; eyes watery from expenditure. Thorn spilled residual heat into cold air with a contented hiss. Rei slumped against Kael's shoulder, breathing ragged.
Above, Daric Rhal reached a different anchor, magnet boots sparking. He glanced back, saw their dome glowing green, and flashed a thin salute—half respect, half challenge. Kael returned a nod: rivalry postponed, not settled.
Rei spoke first, voice hoarse. "Once per hour, huh? Fancy."
"Useful," Kael said, rotating the Nullglaive. The new vent notch closed with a quiet slide, locking until the weapon decided otherwise.
Elias rose, wiping soot from his cheek. "No Gravity Net left. Need fresh crystal or I'm stuck with Push only."
"We trade for shards at Tether Outpost tonight," Veyra suggested.
"Again?" Rei teased. "We'll owe Liora rent."
Kael gazed down-chain, where spark motes drifted like fireflies. "Rent's cheaper than regret."
They gathered gear, resetting ropes, lungs steadying. Thorn led onto the next stretch— gentler links curving upward toward cloud thinner than mercy. The Chain-Crowned Leviathan roared far overhead, a bass rumble that vibrated plaque off teeth.
Kael's palms itched. Spark-Bound—that's what the world called them. Sparks didn't burn bright forever; they either expanded into Storm-Wrought power or fizzled. He intended the former, but intention alone never built fire.
Ahead, Daric Rhal's silhouette receded. Rivals, storms, anchors, family letters—all waited on the next incline. Kael rolled shoulders, feeling the grounded hum of the Nullglaive echo through bone.
Sunlight broke between clouds, striking blade seam in a single silver flare. For a heartbeat, he imagined the glow was Storm-Wrought prophecy whispering: climb faster, claim more.
He obeyed, planting one boot onto the next rung, leaving the wind-tunnel chain behind.