Ten years have passed.
My home, Arkelos, no longer exists anywhere in the sky.
And I, Jayn Rumor, have become a ghost in the sky's absolute bottom: Rust Haven.
This is the 'Maze of the Rusted Heart.'
It is the deepest, most dangerous gut of Rust Haven, where the grotesque screams of centuries-old steel grinding against each other haunt the eternal twilight with every gust of wind.
While other Junkers risk their lives scavenging the outskirts for a day's worth of food, I head for its deepest core. The real treasures are always slumbering in the most dangerous places.
The ground here isn't solid. It's alive. And it shifts whenever it pleases.
Grrrroan—
The massive hull plate beneath my feet let out a low groan. I instinctively dropped into a crouch. It was an instinct carved from ten years of experience.
The next moment, with a deafening roar that shook the very axis of the world, everything I stood on began to tremble violently.
A 'Scrap-Quake.'
Giant cogs rained down from above like cannonballs, and the old pipe bridge I had just crossed twisted like taffy before plummeting below.
Beneath my feet was a cliff, the sea of clouds hundreds of meters below stretching into the distance.
A normal Junker would have screamed, lost their balance, and vanished into the abyss.
But instead of screaming, I lowered my body further.
I absorbed the movement of the shaking steel plate with my knees, reading the direction of the next tremor.
The Maze was an unpredictable murderer, but ten years was enough time to learn its breathing.
The instant the vibration peaked and recoiled in the opposite direction.
I threw myself forward.
Kicking off the crumbling platform, I reached for a massive chain dangling in the air.
The cold, rough texture of iron met my palm.
I used the momentum to swing my body around, landing on the precariously tilted outer wall of another ship.
It all happened in less than a second.
I caught my breath for a moment and glanced down.
Where I had been standing was now a gaping hole.
This was the way of the Maze.
A path from yesterday becomes a cliff today, and a wall from today becomes a bridge tomorrow.
To survive here was to learn how to dance on the back of this fickle giant.
My target was down below, in the heart of a twisted engine block.
A few days ago, I'd spotted a flock of 'Scrap-Gulls' pecking at something and had marked the location.
I slid down the chain and squeezed my body into a mangled gap in the wreckage, barely wide enough for a person to fit through.
A sharp piece of scrap metal grazed my healthy, sun- and wind-tanned skin, leaving a faint scratch, but I paid it no mind.
Scars like these were my medals.
The dark, narrow passage was filled with signs of an abandoned 'Cable-Wyrm' nest.
But I knew. They liked damp places, and this place was dry.
I moved without a sound and finally reached the deepest part of the engine block, a small cavity where a giant piston lay shattered and still.
And at last, it revealed itself to me.
A power core from an ancient civilization, glowing with a subtle blue light that seemed to repel all the surrounding rust and corrosion, unlike any other piece of scrap. It was an 'Oopart.'
"Found you, gorgeous."
I whistled, expertly adjusting the massive tool slung on my back.
My other self, my weapon and my livelihood, the 'Sky Hammer.'
It was as tall as I was, its head larger than an average man's skull.
One side was a heavy hammer for smashing things, the other a hook for prying or tearing things apart.
The handle was worn smooth, perfectly molded to the shape of my hand. It was crude and rough, but its weight always reassured me.
I swung the Sky Hammer lightly, striking the rusted armor joint encasing the core with precision.
CLANG—
With a dull thud, the muscles in my arm, forged by ten years of training, sang with a thrilling jolt.
*
"Hey, Ghost! Made another score today?"
Down below, I saw old Barney, his face smudged with grease, waving from the front of his junk shop.
I grinned, slung the power core I'd just detached over my shoulder, and gave a shrug.
My raven-black hair, tied back loosely with a leather strap, bounced on my back.
"You bet, old man! Look at this, it's a real beauty! We're having soup made from this tonight!"
Barney clicked his tongue at my cheerful shout.
In Rust Haven, this was who I was.
The weird girl who was always smiling, who navigated the perilous scrap heaps like an acrobat with a screw loose.
Smile. Keep smiling. Can't let that old geezer see what's inside. No one can.
When I tossed the core into Barney's shop, his eyes went wide.
"Holy hell, it's a real Oopart! Where did you… No, never mind. It's better for my health not to ask. Anyway, you've got grease on your cheek again. Rolling around so rough, what man is ever going to see you as a woman?"
"And what good would that do? So you can sell me off for a high price?"
"Tsk, you wretched thing…"
Barney muttered to himself at my mischievous joke and waved his hand dismissively.
Then he tossed a heavy pouch of gold coins to me.
I snatched it out of the air with a wink.
"Thanks to you, I'll sleep soundly tonight! Thanks, old man!"
I shook the coin pouch and headed toward the heart of the city, 'The Clatter Market.'
A chaotic place where all sorts of scrap parts and illegally modified equipment were traded.
The air was a dizzying mix of hammering, shouting, and the roar of machinery.
On one side, a bizarre 'Kitbash' motorcycle—a Ground Alliance steam engine fused with the wings of an Imperial Airship—was sputtering to life, spewing black smoke. On the other, a merchant was dismantling a freshly stolen Imperial rifle to sell it piece by piece.
I approached a grimy merchant to buy a few days' worth of dried meat and purified water.
The merchant, flicking a gold coin with his chubby fingers, looked me up and down and grinned, revealing blackened teeth.
"This isn't nearly enough, little lady. Don't you know how expensive water is these days?"
He handed me a bundle of food that was clearly half of what it should be.
It was a common scam here. Either overpower them with force or swindle the naive.
Instead of using force, I put on my brightest smile.
"Wow! Sir, you're amazing! The little worms swimming in this water bottle look just like the 'Starlight Festival' in Arkelos! Will I glow in the dark if I drink this? I could save on lantern fuel!"
I deliberately raised my voice.
My exaggerated performance drew the interested gazes of the surrounding Junkers.
The merchant's face turned beet red.
"Wh-what nonsense is this!"
"It's not? Then what about this dried meat? The bluish mold looks just like the Milky Way! This is a work of art! To think you were trying to sell such a precious thing for a pittance, you must not know a thing about business!"
I cackled, holding the bundle and swaying as if I were about to dance.
By now, half the market was watching us.
The 'Mad Ghost Girl' versus the 'Swindling Merchant.'
There was no better entertainment.
Unable to bear the surrounding jeers, the flustered merchant finally shoved two proper bundles into my arms and growled.
"Here! Take this and get lost!"
I gave him a wink, took the now-full bundles, and casually disappeared into the crowd.
There was only one rule here. 'The strong survive, and the useful are respected.'
And sometimes, another rule was added: 'The crazier one wins.'
That's when I heard it.
A chillingly rhythmic, mechanical footstep that cut through the market's din.
It was them.
An 'Aegis Guardian' patrol, emblazoned with the Imperial crest.
They weren't human.
They were the Empire's pride, fully automated humanoid magi-tech weapons.
Their cold, smooth bodies were made of platinum and white alloy. A single, large red optical camera, set in the center of a featureless head, scanned the market without emotion.
Their synchronized footsteps were not those of living beings.
In that moment, everything in my vision blurred.
The loud noise of the market faded away, my field of vision narrowed, and only the red sun crest on their shoulders came into sharp focus.
It's the same one that was on the ships that burned the sky.
Breathe, Jayn. Please. You can't lose the ghost's mask here.
My cheerful expression vanished, replaced by tightly sealed lips that held the stubbornness and resolve of ten years.
My hand unconsciously gripped the handle of the 'Sky Hammer' at my waist.
Could I shatter the necks of those steel dolls in one blow?
The thought flashed through my mind.
As fury surged, the suppressed Ether within me churned.
A blue light began to gather in my left eye.
Like a flickering flame, a vivid blue light swirled and blazed within my pupil.
I quickly bowed my head, hiding my face with my raven-feather hair.
If I was seen like this, I could no longer live as a ghost.
I barely suppressed the murderous intent and the light in my eye and turned away.
To cool my boiling rage, I left the noisy market behind.
*
My feet carried me unconsciously, as they always did, to that place.
The deepest, most dangerous part of Rust Haven.
The scrap mountain where the 'Cursed Ship,' which everyone avoided, lay dormant.
The scrap mountain was on a different level from the other trash heaps of Rust Haven.
It was a colossal tomb in itself, formed by layers upon layers of wreckage from a giant fallen airship.
And at the heart of that mountain, like the carcass of a great steel whale, or the skeleton of a mythical giant run aground on the sea of clouds, 'it' was sleeping.
It was my own private sanctuary, the only place that could soothe the demon inside me.
Though covered in centuries of dust and dark red rust, the elegant, smooth curves peeking through the massive hulk proved that this was no ordinary scrap.
Curves like a living creature, different from the angular ships of the Empire.
The people here called it the Cursed Ship, telling tales of a reckless Junker who touched it and vanished without a trace, but to my eyes, it just looked like a giant Rust Dragon in a deep slumber.
I came here every day, just to gaze up at the ship endlessly.
That act was the only rule, the only obsession in my chaotic life.
"Hey, Ghost! You'll become a real ghost if you keep that up!"
Other Junkers who spotted me threw taunting warnings.
I answered by raising my middle finger at them.
They didn't know. Why I was drawn to this place.
Even I didn't…
Just by coming here, just by looking at this colossal scrap heap, it felt as if the boiling rage and sorrow inside me would quiet down, if only for a moment.
Like listening to a lullaby my mother sang, a lifetime ago.
The 'Eternal Twilight' descended, and one by one, the sparks of welding torches began to bloom again across Rust Haven.
On the scrap mountain, now deserted by all, only I and the giant airship remained.
I could only stare up, as if entranced, at the colossal wreckage of my destiny.