The storm didn't rain water. It rained static.
Outside the hollowed Titan skull, the world screamed. Violet lightning arced between the mountains of scrap, welding debris together in blinding flashes. The air pressure dropped so low that Kael's ears wouldn't stop popping.
Inside, the sanctuary was silent, save for the hum of Voss's collection.
"High Tide," Voss said, adjusting a dial on a copper console. "The distortion is peaking. If you were outside, your nervous system would be rewritten. You would forget how to breathe."
Elric sat on a crate of rusted gears, shivering despite the warmth of the moss-lights. "How long does it last?"
"hours," Voss said. "Years. Time is... fluid during the Tide."
Kael wasn't listening. He was staring at a holographic projection floating above Voss's workbench. It was a replay of the crash—the moment the First Sword fell.
Grainy, blue-tinted light showed a streak of fire descending from the grey sky. It smashed into a ridge of steel, shattering it. But it wasn't the impact that Kael watched.
It was the shadow.
Clinging to the falling star was a mass of darkness. It didn't look like smoke. It looked like ink spilled on a painting, blotting out what was beneath.
"Play it again," Kael said.
Voss tapped a rune. The loop repeated.
"The Anomaly," Voss noted. "It has no thermal signature. No mass. Yet it exerts physical force. It is a paradox."
"It's not a paradox," Kael murmured. He stepped closer, the obsidian arm aching as it neared the projection. "I know this thing."
Elric looked up. "You do?"
"When I took the Oath..." Kael touched his chest. "When I gave up my memory... I felt something taking it. Not a machine. Not a spell. A mouth."
He pointed at the shadow on the hologram.
"That's the mouth."
Voss turned his porcelain head, lenses whirring. "You hypothesize that the Anomaly is related to the Spire's memory extraction protocol?"
"I think the Spire didn't invent the protocol," Kael said grimly. "I think the Spire was built to feed it."
The realization hit the room like a physical weight. If the Spire was a feeder, and the First Sword was the jailer... then the thing down here wasn't just a monster. It was the reason for everything.
"The First Sword," Kael asked, turning to Voss. "In the recording... is he winning?"
Voss hesitated. "Processing combat analytics..."
The hologram zoomed in. The figure in the fire—the First Sword—was striking the shadow with a blade that burned white. But for every strike that connected, the shadow seemed to grow. It lashed out with tendrils that passed through armor and flesh alike.
"Analysis: Negative," Voss said. "The First Sword was not winning. He was retreating."
"Retreating where?"
"To the Deep Basin," Voss said. "The lowest point of the Rust Plains. Where the Aureolus burns hottest."
Kael stared at the image of the falling knight. The First Sword was supposedly the strongest warrior in history. The man who ended the Age of Kings. And he was running.
"We need to find him," Kael said. "Before that thing finishes him off."
"We cannot move until the Tide recedes," Voss countered. "And even then... the Deep Basin is weeks away on foot."
"We don't have weeks."
Voss paused. He looked at Kael, then at Elric, calculating variables.
"Correct," the machine-man said. "Biological fragility is a limiting factor. Therefore, we will not walk."
He walked to the back of the workshop and pulled a heavy lever.
The back wall of the Titan skull groaned and retracted, revealing a jagged cavern. Sitting in the center directly beneath a massive ventilation fan, was a vehicle.
It was a monstrosity. A chassis made from a siege engine, mounted on six arachnid legs salvaged from Scavengers. It had a cockpit of reinforced glass and a turret mounted on the roof that looked suspiciously like a ship's cannon.
"The Strider," Voss introduced. "It is not elegant. But it eats terrain for fuel."
Elric stood up, mouth open. "You built a... a mechanical spider-tank."
"I had spare parts," Voss said. "And I got bored."
He looked at Kael. "If you wish to chase a god into the dark, flesh-thing, we drive. But know this:
The Strider attracts attention. If we start the engine, everything in the Rust Plains will hear us."
Kael looked at the hologram one last time—at the shadow eating the light.
"Let them hear us," Kael said. "I'm done being quiet."