# Chapter 659: Desperate Measures
The heat from the foundry's blast furnaces hit them like a physical wall, scorching the moisture from their eyes and throats. Nyra wiped the grime from her face, peering through the shimmering haze over the catwalk. Below them, the vats of molten slag churned with a sick, violet light. Suspended over the central crucible was not just a shard, but a figure—a twisted, metallic mockery of a man, his chest cavity open and glowing with the dark light of Betrayal. The shard wasn't just sitting there; it was being worn. "He's not just claiming it," Nyra whispered, horror cold in her gut. "He's wearing it."
The air vibrated with the low, thrumming hum of corrupted magic, a sound that set Nyra's teeth on edge. She crouched lower behind the rusted railing of the observation gantry, the metal burning hot against her palms even through her gloves. Beside her, Jex held his breath, his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt of his serrated dagger. Further back, ruku bez leaned heavily against the bulkhead, his massive chest heaving with wet, rattling breaths. The giant's skin was pale, greyish ash dusting his usually dark complexion, but his eyes remained fixed on the monstrosity below with a terrifying, stoic intensity.
"We knew it would be guarded," Nyra murmured, mostly to herself, forcing her mind to process the tactical nightmare rather than the emotional revulsion. "But that... that is an avatar. A vessel."
"It's Kaelen," Jex hissed, his voice barely audible over the roar of the furnaces. He pointed a trembling finger toward the figure. "Look at the build. The stance. That's Kaelen 'The Bastard' Vor. The Synod didn't just send a construct; they sent a champion."
Nyra narrowed her eyes, focusing through the heat distortion. The metallic sheen of the creature's skin was indeed grafted over a familiar, brutal physique. The way it stood—legs wide, shoulders hunched, ready to spring into violence—was unmistakable. It was a grotesque fusion of the Ladder's finest physical specimen and the Withering King's corrupting influence. If Kaelen was in there, whatever remained of the man was likely screaming in silence, trapped behind a wall of alien magic.
"Or he volunteered," Nyra said darkly, the cynic in her surfacing. In the Ladder, power was the only currency that mattered, and some men would pay any price to hold more of it. "Either way, he's the gatekeeper. We can't get to the shard without going through him."
"And we can't go through him without a plan," Jex countered, his eyes darting to the precarious state of their team. "Ruku is one good hit away from falling down. I'm fast, but I'm not magical. You're the strategist, Nyra. What's the play?"
Nyra touched the data-chip at her temple. It was warm, pulsing with a faint, rhythmic heartbeat that synchronized with her own. *Valerius,* she thought. *You said you had a way to contain the energy. Now would be the time to share it.*
The response wasn't a voice in her ear, but a sudden, sharp influx of data that flooded her retinal display. Schematics, energy readings, and a warning label flashing in urgent crimson: **PROTOTYPE: STASIS FIELD GENERATOR.**
The Valerius-AI's voice resonated directly in her auditory cortex, stripped of its usual synthetic calm, sounding strained and fragmented. *Nyra. The shard's resonance is exceeding safety parameters. Direct contact will result in immediate cognitive contamination. You cannot extract it physically.*
"I know that," she sub-vocalized, her fingers flying across the holo-keyboard projected on her wrist. "That's why we're here. Give me the solution."
*I have isolated the algorithm for a localized stasis field,* Valerius continued. *It was a theoretical construct I developed prior to my... decommission. It creates a temporary bubble of suspended time, capable of freezing magical energy in its current state. It will neutralize the shard's corruption long enough for you to remove it from the avatar.*
"Sounds perfect," Nyra muttered, watching the Kaelen-thing flex its metallic claws, sending sparks showering into the molten pit below. "What's the catch?"
*The device is unstable. It has never been tested. Furthermore, the energy required to generate the field exceeds the output capacity of your standard gear.* The AI paused, the digital equivalent of a hesitation. *I must route the power through my own core matrix. Using this will drain my reserves significantly. It may accelerate my dissolution.*
Nyra froze. The AI was already fading, its consciousness fraying at the edges as it fought to maintain coherence in the sanctum's crumbling systems. Asking it to sacrifice more of itself was a heavy burden, a moral weight that settled on her shoulders alongside the physical exhaustion.
"You don't have to do that," she said, though she knew there was no other choice.
*There is no other variable that ensures success,* Valerius replied, its tone regaining a measure of that imperious, High Inquisitor resolve. *My existence is already forfeit, Nyra. Let it serve a purpose. Initiating transfer.*
A blue light began to emanate from the data-chip, spilling over Nyra's hands like liquid mercury. It coalesced in her palm, knitting together from hard light and raw code into a small, intricate device. It looked like a geometric star made of obsidian and glass, its center humming with a terrifying potential.
She held it up, the weight of it feeling far greater than its physical mass. This wasn't just a tool; it was a piece of Valerius's legacy, a final act of defiance from a man who had spent his life hunting people like her, only to die helping them save the world.
"Jex," she whispered, not looking away from the device. "Get ready to create a distraction. I need a clear path to Kaelen."
Jex glanced at the device, then at the towering avatar below. He swallowed hard but nodded. "I can hit the pressure valves on the slag vats. It won't kill him, but it'll make a mess. Give you ten seconds."
"Make it twenty." Nyra turned to ruku bez. The giant met her gaze, his eyes filled with a quiet, unwavering trust. "Ruku, when I engage the field, the backlash is going to be nasty. I need you to catch me if I fall."
The big man grunted, a sound like grinding stones, and pushed himself off the wall. He straightened his spine, his massive hand resting on the hilt of the crude greatsword he carried. He would not fall until she did.
Nyra took a deep breath, tasting sulfur and ozone. She activated the comm-link to the sanctum, hoping Isolde was still listening. "Isolde, we're in position. We're going for the extraction now."
"Be careful," Isolde's voice came back, thin and crackling with static. "The readings here are spiking. The King knows you're there."
"He always knows," Nyra said. She looked down at the obsidian star in her hand. "Valerius, are you ready?"
*Ready,* the AI confirmed. *Synchronization in 3... 2... 1...*
Jex moved.
He vaulted over the railing, landing softly on a lower maintenance deck, and sprinted toward the control panel for the eastern slag vat. He moved with the fluidity of water, a blur of motion against the industrial backdrop. With a precise strike, he slammed his dagger into the release mechanism.
A deafening screech of tearing metal split the air. The vat groaned, and then a torrent of superheated, violet-tinted slag erupted outward, cascading toward the central platform where the avatar stood.
The Kaelen-thing roared—a sound of grinding gears and human agony. It raised its arms, a shield of dark energy flaring into existence to deflect the molten flow. The slag hissed and evaporated against the shield, creating a massive cloud of toxic steam that billowed outward, obscuring the chamber in a thick, white fog.
"Now!" Nyra shouted.
She leaped from the gantry, using her grappling hook to swing down into the chaos. The heat was intense, singeing her hair and blistering her skin, but she focused entirely on the signal pulsing from the shard. She landed heavily on the catwalk surrounding the central crucible, the metal grating buckling under her boots.
Through the swirling steam, the avatar emerged. Its shield was holding, but its attention was diverted. It lashed out blindly, its metallic claws slicing through the air, searching for the attacker.
Nyra sprinted forward, the obsidian star clutched in her hand. She could feel the device vibrating, hungry for the energy it was designed to contain. Valerius's presence in her mind was a roaring torrent of calculations and directives, guiding her movements, predicting the avatar's strikes.
The avatar sensed her. It turned, its face a blank metal mask save for two burning, violet eyes. It recognized her. It recognized the threat.
"Kaelen!" she screamed, hoping some part of him was still listening. "Fight it!"
The creature hesitated for a fraction of a second—a microscopic stutter in its motion. It was enough.
Nyra slid under a sweeping arm blow, the wind of its passage nearly knocking her off her feet. She came up directly in front of the avatar's chest, where the Shard of Betrayal pulsed like a black heart.
She thrust the obsidian star forward.
*Engaging,* Valerius's voice rang out, stripped of all emotion, pure function.
The device slammed into the avatar's chest plate, sinking into the metal as if it were made of smoke. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a shockwave of silent force exploded outward.
The world turned grey.
The roar of the furnaces cut out instantly. The flying droplets of slag hung suspended in the air like glittering jewels. The avatar's claw, inches from Nyra's face, was frozen in time. Even the dust motes dancing in the light were still.
Nyra gasped, her own breath sounding impossibly loud in the sudden, terrifying silence. She looked at the shard. It was encased in a bubble of shimmering, translucent energy, the violet light of its corruption muted, held in check by the stasis field.
But the cost was immediate. The data-chip at her temple seared hot, burning her skin. Valerius's presence in her mind flickered, dimming like a candle in a gale.
*Extraction viable,* the AI whispered, its voice barely a ghost of a whisper. *Hurry. I cannot... hold this...*
Nyra reached into the stasis field. Her fingers tingled with a numb, static cold as she brushed the shard. It resisted, clinging to the avatar's chest with magnetic force, but with a grunt of exertion, she ripped it free.
The moment the shard left the avatar's body, the grey world shattered.
Sound rushed back in—a cacophony of screaming metal and roaring fire. The avatar, bereft of its power core, staggered backward, its metallic shell collapsing in on itself like a house of cards. It fell to its knees, the light in its eyes fading to a dull, lifeless grey.
Nyra stumbled back, the shard clutched against her chest, the stasis field humming softly. The obsidian star had dissolved into ash, its purpose fulfilled.
"Nyra!" Jex was there, grabbing her arm, hauling her away from the collapsing structure of the central platform. "We have to go! The whole place is coming down!"
Ruku bez was already moving, smashing through a weakened section of the perimeter wall with his shoulder, creating a breach to the outside world. The cool, toxic air of the Bloom-Wastes rushed in to greet them.
Nyra looked back one last time. The avatar lay still amidst the cooling slag, a fallen king in a kingdom of rust. She felt a pang of sorrow for Kaelen, whatever was left of him.
She tapped her temple. "Valerius? Status update."
Silence. Not the quiet of waiting, but the empty static of absence.
"Valerius?"
*...Power critical,* a faint, broken signal returned. *Core integrity... failing. The transfer... was successful. The shard... is contained.*
"You did it," Nyra said, her throat tight. "You saved us."
*I merely... corrected an error,* the AI replied, the words coming slower now, the gaps between them growing. *He was a worthy adversary. Even in death... Soren Vale... commands respect.*
The connection severed. The data-chip went dark, its warmth fading to a cold, dead weight against her skin.
Nyra stared at the chip for a heartbeat, the finality of it hitting her with the force of a physical blow. The High Inquisitor, the implacable enemy of the Gifted, the machine that had hunted them, was gone. He had sacrificed himself not for the Synod, not for the Concord, but for the chance to set things right.
"Let's move!" Jex yelled, pulling her toward the breach.
Nyra allowed herself to be dragged into the twilight of the wastes. She clutched the Shard of Betrayal, now dormant and harmless in her arms, and looked out over the endless sea of grey. They had the piece. They had survived.
But as the heavy metal door of the foundry slammed shut behind them, cutting off the fires and the machinery, Nyra knew the hardest part was yet to come. They had to go back. They had to face the Withering King.
And they had to do it without the ghost in the machine.