The clouds parted, and the world of Magnara stretched below.
From the air, Janoah looked alive, an entire continent buzzing like a forge. Seven perfect rings flowed outward from a golden spire at its center—the Steel Flame Tower, its single beam slicing the sky like a blade of sunlight. Next to it rose the Seeker Citadel, a fortress of basalt and gold where banners of the Thirteen Pillars fluttered in the upper winds.
Bridges crisscrossed the city like veins. Rivers shimmered with blue resonance. The double harbor below, the Iron Cothon, shone like a steel gear half submerged in the ocean: the outer basin for trade, the inner for war. From above, Magnara wasn't just a city; it was a design brought to life.
Kai leaned closer to the window. "It's... alive."
Rin's eyes traced its geometric pattern. "Efficient."
Aria smirked. "Loud, proud, and glowing. Janoah really said: Look at me."
Lila grinned. "You're damn right. Welcome to the Steel Flame Republic. We don't pray to gods here; we build them."
The airship sank through clouds of smoke and light. Its hull vibrated with the sound of industry—steam whistles, rail pulses, hammer hymns.
"Feels like it's breathing," Kai said.
"It is," Lila replied. "The whole city's alive."
Steam hissed as the Aratrum docked in Magnara's upper skyport.
Crowds gathered like waves: soldiers in tailored coats, engineers with ink-stained gloves, Seeker students waving banners, and artists sketching aura photographs midair. The noise hit the moment the ramp lowered.
"THE IRON TEAM HAS ARRIVED!"
"KAI XANDER!"
"ARIA FLAMEHART!"
"RIN KAIRO!"
"LILA BUTTERS!"
And then the name that detonated the dock:
"LAILA BUTTERS!"
The crowd screamed so loudly that it nearly warped the sigil barriers.
Laila appeared in a navy trench coat over ripped jeans, gold hoops gleaming, her smile bright enough to blind a drone. She waved both arms like she owned the city—because she did.
"Laila! Are you joining the Trial Council?"
"Is it true you defended an island from Germania?"
"Did you make your daughter compete?"
"Who are you wearing!?"
She laughed through it all. "Babies, one at a time! I'm home for family, not work, but hey, in this city, those are the same thing!"
Lila groaned. "Every time..."
Kai chuckled softly. "She's...something."
"Try living with her," Lila muttered.
The crowd's noise died as if someone hit mute.
A voice, low, deep, like thunder wrapped in steel, cut through the air.
"Move aside."
The crowd parted instantly.
General Rage, Commander of the Janoahian Army, strode down the dock as if gravity answered to him. His coat was simple black, marked only by the sigil of the Steel Flame over his heart. The sunlight caught the burn scar across his face, making it glow like molten gold. Every soldier in sight straightened; even the security drones at the skyport paused midair.
William straightened. "General."
"Lockhart," Rage said, nodding. "Heard you finally took a squad."
"Yes, sir."
Rage's gaze swept over the rookies, heavy with experience and danger.
"These are yours?"
"They are."
A brief pause. Then, a grin that felt like a test.
"Good. They look like trouble. Elric would've liked that."
He turned to the crowd, his voice booming with authority that shook banners from their poles:
"Two days until the Trial by Mercy! Let's see if the new generation burns half as bright as they think they do!"
The plaza erupted in thunderous cheers.
Even the guards on the tower balconies pounded their rifles in salute.
Rage clapped William's shoulder once; the sound cracked like a cannon crack.
"Welcome home, Captain."
When the crowd finally dispersed, two sleek carriages waited.
Laila climbed into the first, swallowed by a fresh wave of fans.
The Iron Seekers and William entered the second, a black steel frame with crimson leather seats and aura glass windows reflecting the city's glow.
"Look closely," William said as they began rolling. "Magnara is beautiful. It proves itself every second."
(The Iron Cothon — Ring VII)
The carriage passed through the first ring.
Cranes swung overhead, gears turning quietly with aura hums. Dockhands moved with mechanical precision, guided by rhythm instead of words.
The air was salty and smoky. Sparks danced like fireflies.
"This is where Janoah started," William said. "The exiles from different nations built this from scratch."
Rin's eyes tracked a line of welders moving in sync.
"Then every inch is earned," she said.
"Earned," William agreed, "and catalogued."
Lila added, "The Cothon never sleeps—twenty-two hours of work, two hours of breath. That's our faith, effort."
Aria frowned. "You don't pray to gods?"
Lila smiled. "Nope. We pray to our ancestors for guidance and work our butts off."
(The Markets — Ring V)
The next ring burst with life.
Merchants called from streets lined with neon signs and hanging braziers.
Streetwear blended centuries: hoodies with sigil embroidery, sneakers paired with sword belts, denim with a Rajistani drape.
Steam carts hissed with hot rice rolls, forge bread, and firefruit cider.
Music pulsed from corners—drums, brass, and laughter.
Aria leaned out the window. "This is insane."
"This is home," Lila said, proud. "We fight, build, argue about whose coffee's best, and look good doing it."
Kai smiled. "It feels alive."
"Better," Lila agreed. "It is alive."
A group of Seeker cadets saluted as the carriage passed.
"FORGEHOUSE HONOR!"
William returned the salute with a crisp nod.
Rin murmured, "They really look up to you."
"I earned it through hard work," William said. "So will you."
(The Academies — Ring IV)
They entered the academic district.
Glass domes shimmered with light from within, each bearing a sigil: Martial, Alchemy, Spirit, Engineering, Soulwright.
Students debated at café tables, using aura to punctuate arguments.
Aria stared. "They're casting spells."
"Janoah logic," Lila explained. "You gesture too hard here; you might ignite your drink."
They passed a golden statue of Jonathan Joan Joah, quill held like a sword, flame spiraling behind him.
William's voice softened. "Joah believed emotion and logic are the same force. One tempers the other. That's the soul of this city."
Kai nodded. "I understand why Elric built the Association here."
Rin's eyes remained fixed on the statue.
"And why it scares people," she said.
William smiled faintly. "As it should."
(The Commons — Ring III)
Parks stretched between polished bridges. Families picnicked under aura lamps glowing like miniature suns. Poets performed in open squares. The smell of chili, honey, and metal warmed the air.
"See?" Lila said. "We mix everything—food, faith, color, and sound."
Kai read the motto painted on a banner:
"From Flame, We Rise."
He whispered it reverently once.
"Beautiful."
(The Forgehouse Guild)
As dusk fell, the carriage turned down a wide street lined with forges glowing red against the twilight. Hammers rang. Voices sang.
At the end stood a gate forged of steel and gold, marked with the sigil of hammer and flame:
FORGEHOUSE GUILD — EST. 812 A.S.
Inside, Seekers trained on stone platforms, engineers tested pistols under sigil shields, and instructors barked corrections through the clang of drills. Every movement was rhythm; every sound, purpose.
"This is where you'll stay tonight," William said. "The Forgehouse is the oldest guild still loyal to Elric's original charter."
Lila stretched. "And the best smelling one. My place is three streets over."
Aria grinned. "You actually live near all this?"
"Front row seats to chaos," Lila said. "You get used to it."
William stopped at the courtyard entrance. "Two days until the Trial by Mercy. Eat. Rest. Tomorrow, we head to my guild, train, and walk the city. Sorry, we couldn't go today; I just wasn't prepared for a squad," he said with a smile.
Kai looked back toward Magnara's skyline, its hammers, its heartbeat, its molten light reflected in every window.
The Steel Flame Tower burned against the night like a sun that refused to set.
Janoah.
The Iron Seekers had arrived.