Sector 4 of the Foundry District was a maze of steaming pipes, grinding gears, and deep shadows that smelled perpetually of coal and old oil.
Rowan crouched behind a rusted brick chimney, looking down at the Syndicate outpost. It wasn't a modern office building; it was a squat, reinforced concrete and brick bunker with a single, heavy iron door. Patrolling the perimeter were two towering clockwork automatons, their steam-driven joints hissing rhythmically in the fog.
"Comms check," Ivy's voice crackled softly through the copper-wire earpiece Rowan wore. "I've tapped their telegraph lines. The signal is jammed. You have exactly a three-minute window before the patrol automatons swing back around the alley."
"Copy that," Rowan whispered. He looked at Luca and Luna. The twins were checking their gear. Luca hefted his massive iron spanner, and Luna flexed her fingers, ensuring the pneumatic pressure in her gauntlets was at maximum.
"Remember," Rowan said, his breath fogging in the cold air. "We get in, we grab the gold, we get out. No fighting unless we absolutely have to. We can't afford a bounty on our heads."
"Let's just get the coin and go," Luca grunted. "This place gives me the creeps."
They moved.
They dropped from the chimney stack, landing silently on the slick cobblestones. They moved like ghosts through the fog, sticking tight to the shadows.
Rowan reached the heavy iron door. He pulled out the brass skeleton key Finch had given him.
Please work, he prayed silently.
He slid the key into the heavy lock and turned it. The internal tumblers clicked heavily into place.
CLACK.
The heavy door groaned open on rusted hinges.
"We're in," Rowan signaled.
They slipped inside.
The interior of the counting-house was stark. Exposed brick walls, harsh, glaring gas-lamps, and the constant, mechanical ticking of analytical engines processing numbers along the walls.
"The vault is down the hall, to the left," Rowan whispered, recalling the map.
They moved quickly. The hallway was empty. Far too empty.
"Where are the guards?" Luna whispered, looking around suspiciously. "A gold drop should have human enforcers."
"Maybe they're on patrol," Luca suggested, though he gripped his spanner tighter, his knuckles turning white.
They reached the vault door. It was massive, a circular piece of hardened steel lined with complex locking gears.
Rowan slid the key into the center mechanism and turned.
The gears ground together. The heavy steel door hissed, breaking a pressurized seal, and swung slowly outward.
Rowan's heart pounded. This was it. Enough gold to fix the cycle. Enough gold to buy fresh food and medicine for the orphanage.
He stepped inside.
The vault was completely empty.
There were no stacks of sovereigns. No wooden lockboxes. Just a single, empty iron table sitting mockingly in the center of the room.
"What?" Rowan blinked, stepping further in. "It's... empty."
"It's a setup," Luna hissed, spinning around instantly. "We have to go. Now!"
CLANG.
The massive steel vault door slammed shut behind them with a sound of utter finality.
"No!" Rowan threw himself at the door, pounding his fists against the cold steel. "Open it! Ivy! Can you hack the lock?"
"I'm trying!" Ivy's voice was panicked over the earpiece. "I'm locked out! Someone manually severed the telegraph lines from the inside! It's a localized dead zone!"
Red gas-lamps began to flare in the corners of the ceiling, bathing the room in a bloody hue. A shrill steam-whistle began to wail, deafening in the small, enclosed space.
INTRUDER ALERT. SECTOR 4 CONTAINMENT PROTOCOL INITIATED.
"Vent!" Luca pointed to a heavy iron grate set into the ceiling. "Luna, boost me up!"
Luna laced her metal fingers together. Luca stepped into her hands, and she launched him upward with a burst of pneumatic strength. He grabbed the iron grate and ripped it free with a grunt of immense effort.
"Go!" Rowan shouted.
Luca pulled himself up into the dark shaft. He reached his hand back down for Luna.
ZZZT.
A blinding bolt of galvanic electricity shot out from a hidden copper coil in the wall. It struck Luca square in the chest.
"Luca!" Luna screamed.
Luca convulsed violently, his muscles seizing. He fell backward out of the vent, crashing heavily onto the stone floor. He groaned once, twitching, then went still.
"It's a galvanic stun-coil," Rowan realized, rushing over and checking Luca's pulse. "He's alive. But he's out."
The brick wall at the far end of the room suddenly hissed and slid open, revealing a hidden alcove.
They weren't alone.
Three figures stepped out. They weren't the clunky, steam-driven patrol bots from the street. These were IronCore Centurions. Elite, terrifying machines made of sleek black metal, with glowing red glass eyes and arms that ended in crackling shock-batons and heavy weighted nets.
"Surrender," a mechanical voice hissed through a vocal-bellows in the lead machine's chest. "You are in violation of Syndicate Code 12-B. Theft of Company Property."
"We didn't steal anything!" Rowan shouted, standing protectively in front of the unconscious Luca. "The vault was empty!"
"Attempted theft carries the same penalty," the automaton droned emotionlessly. "Indentured servitude in the deep mines. Processing will commence immediately."
The machines advanced, their heavy iron feet clanking against the floor.
"Not today," Luna growled.
The valves on her gauntlets blew open, releasing a cloud of hot steam. The hydraulic pistons hissed as they reached maximum pressure. She charged the lead automaton with a roar of fury.
"Luna, wait!" Rowan yelled.
Luna didn't listen. She drove her brass-plated fist directly into the machine's chest.
CRUNCH.
The automaton's thick breastplate buckled inward. Gears snapped and sparks flew. It staggered backward, its red eyes flickering.
But the other two machines moved with terrifying, calculated speed. One fired a heavy, chain-weighted net from its arm. The mesh wrapped tightly around Luna, pinning her arms to her sides and dragging her to her knees.
"Get off me!" Luna struggled wildly, her gauntlets whining as they fought the high-tensile steel wire.
The third automaton lunged straight at Rowan.
Rowan dodged the crackling shock-baton, rolling underneath the wide, mechanical strike. He grabbed a loose piece of iron conduit from the floor and swung it as hard as he could at the machine's knee joint.
Clang.
The iron pipe bent. It barely scratched the automaton's black paint.
The machine didn't even flinch. It backhanded Rowan with a heavy, metal fist.
Rowan flew across the room, slamming brutally into the wall right next to Luca. The air was knocked from his lungs. His vision swam, the red lights blurring into streaks.
"Target subdued," the automaton stated.
Rowan struggled to keep his eyes open. He saw Luna thrashing helplessly in the net. He saw Luca unconscious on the stone. He saw the cold, unfeeling red eyes of the machines closing in, raising their batons.
Finch, Rowan thought, a burning, suffocating hatred igniting in his gut. You rat.
"Ivy," Rowan gasped into his earpiece, tasting blood. "Run. Don't... don't let them find you."
"Rowan!" Ivy screamed on the other end. "I'm telegraphing them! I'm calling Dorothy!"
"Too late," Rowan whispered as the dark shadow of the machine loomed over him, the electric baton crackling as it was raised high.
ZZZT.
Darkness took him.