Chapter 3: Library of Unwritten.
Reiyo didn't trust Silas, but he trusted the fear in Kenji's eyes, and he trusted the cold truth in Silas's voice. The stranger knew too much—he knew about the speed, the surge, and the Aetherium's method of hunting. Distrusting him meant a slow, panicked death in the open desert.
"We go to the spire," Reiyo declared, his voice tight. "But if you try anything, you'll see what this knife can do."
Silas gave a dry, knowing smirk. "It can make you fast. I know. Now, move your companion."
Reiyo retrieved Kenji, whose panic immediately doubled upon seeing Silas's piercing purple eyes. But under the threat of the Aetherium, Kenji obeyed. Within minutes, the three of them were moving across the jagged, pre-dawn landscape of the Kryll Desert.
Silas moved with a fluid, disciplined grace that Reiyo's borrowed speed couldn't match. He kept them low, using the rising heat haze and the early morning shadows for cover.
"You left a large thermal signature with that steam blast," Silas muttered, never taking his eyes off the horizon. "They'll assume you're moving toward the center of the district, buying us a precious six hours."
"What is that place?" Reiyo demanded, nodding toward the distant, needle-thin black crystal spire that seemed to defy the sun.
"It's the Library of the Unwritten," Silas explained, his voice devoid of emotion. "An archive built by the First Masters long before your steam engines polluted the air. It was sealed to protect the knowledge, but now, the Authority needs it. That's where your answers are, Source. And that is where the Authority—the Aetherium—is heading."
The desperate pace continued for hours, grinding the city dust from their boots. Silas had them traveling across the sharpest, most difficult terrain, ensuring they left almost no visible track.
By mid-morning, the spire was visibly closer, a crystalline shard promising either salvation or a trap. Reiyo felt the subtle thrum of the knife growing restless, no longer a warning of the Aetherium, but a reaction to the power emanating from the spire itself.
Suddenly, Silas threw up a hand, stopping dead behind a massive outcrop of obsidian rock.
"We have company," he whispered, his purple eyes narrowed into slits. "The Aetherium has skipped their sweeps. They sent a fast scout ahead."
Reiyo crept to the edge of the rock face and looked out. Gliding silently through the air about a quarter-mile away, using a low-altitude steam jet, was a single, streamlined Aetherium skiff. It wasn't patrol armor; it was a fast, one-man reconnaissance vehicle, armed with a multi-spectral sensor rig designed to cut through dust and detect energy signatures.
The skiff was moving on a direct path, not toward their location, but straight toward the Library of the Unwritten. If it reached the spire first, it would alert the entire Authority to the spire's vulnerability.
"We can't let it get there first," Silas stated, his gaze fixed on the enemy craft. "If they know we're heading for the Library, the six hours of safety we bought ourselves will be erased. The pursuit will come faster and harder than anything you've faced."
The skiff, oblivious to the figures watching, was just seconds from crossing the designated perimeter line of the spire.