The orange light of a setting sun encompassed a never ending wasteland as it continued towards the western horizon.
A cloud of dust trailed behind leather wheels, dissipating in the passing wind.
Jean remained focused as he headed towards a nearby ridge.
This should be a good location.
Pebbles skipped across the hard rock as her motorcycle skirted towards the cliff edge.
The eastern side of the central city was in her view as train wheels screeched into a large archway.
Trucks ran along either side of the tracks, moving into separate building entrances.
Jean turned the ignition key, clicking the engine off before removing her helmet.
Her foot lowered the kickstand as she got off the bike.
Let's see.
She reached for a small metal box attached to the side of the motorcycle.
The hatch was lifted, containing a series of different gear.
Jean removed a small pair of binoculars before closing the hatch.
Her fingers curled around the rusted pipes as she lifted the glass to her eyes.
She began—
Observing.
Watching the eastern entrance.
A tall bridge stood above a sea of metal pipes, containing a straight pathway of railtracks in its center.
Roads lined either side, having trucks full of fluid enter the city and empty trucks leaving the city.
Jean's gaze fixed on the end of the tracks.
The station is completely covered.
Her eyes—
Narrowed.
As she continued to observe the metallic roof.
There. That ventilation duct could work.
Jean exhaled through her nose as the binoculars lowered.
She unfastened the backpack and duffle bag from the motorcycle.
Her fingers—
Pressed.
On her suit wrist.
Her outfit—
Shifted.
CHanging into a frilled dress.
Jean lifted the duffle bag, looking at the change in its design.
Not bad Tremor…It matches the dress.
She softly smiled, gripping the purse a little tighter as she began to descend down the rocky slope.
Jean paused at the edge of the cliff, placing her knuckles together.
Her veins—
Surged.
Pulsing with a yellow light.
She began—
Descending.
Walking down towards the bridge below.
The sounds of heels clicking filled the air around her as if she was walking down a flight of stairs.
Her filled dress swayed in the passing breeze.
Jean continued to walk down, as her footsteps planned out with the metallic roof.
She looked towards the walls next to her, gazing at the pipes connected to its surface.
They don't need guards with walls that tall.
Jean moved towards the ventilation duct, pressing her fingers onto bolted corners.
A yellow hue remained from her veins, underneath her civilian disguise.
The bolt—
Creaked.
Splitting from the duct.
She continued this process on each corner placing a thin yellow wall in between their connection points.
Now then.
Jean stood to her feet, taking a step towards the open vent.
She was—
Still.
Standing on top of the opening.
Her eyes moved to her feet, looking at the metal rafter below.
Pipes compress releasing steam from their passageways warming the metal rafters.
Jean placed her knuckles together, before slowly separating them.
No guards yet.
She began to lower herself as if she was using an elevator.
Her heels clicked on the metal rafters as the glow from her veins dissipated.
Jean's hand rested along the railing, watching the station below.
Clockwork figures churned in unison, shifting open the cabin doors of the train.
Groups of citizens, directed by a few watchful soldiers, moved towards the archway entrance.
Jean steadied her breathing, as he walked along the rafters following the citizens.
Wires coiled around the metal pipes, feeding themselves into the rusted speakers in the station.
She ducked underneath a bundle, pausing at the end of the rafters.
I shouldn't be seen like this.
Her veins—
Surged.
Glowing a faint yellow.
Jean's left palm raised, facing out from her as the right palm faced towards her.
Four walls of thin yellow surrounded her, refracting the view of her from the outside.
She lept—
Down.
Landing in the crowd of people.
Jean was in between two talking people as she started to walk with the crowd.
Their faces—
Continued.
Looking at each other.
The conversation—
Flowed.
As if Jean was not there between them.
She sighed, keeping her hands in the same position.
It worked.
Jean entered through the first section of the outer wall, watching guards stand on the outer edges.
Her eyes—
Focused.
On an open doorway.
A guard descended down the flight of stairs, exiting out to the area below.
That could let me get on top of the walls.
Jean's palms—
Shifted.
Pushing past each other.
The citizens—
Collapsed.
As if they walked into a wall.
The citizens all stopped, turning towards the random disturbances.
A ticking sound inched closer as the guards headed towards them, leaving the door unattended.
Their guns—
Lowered.
At the same intervals.
The small box fastened on their waste belt, churned in sync with the clocks around them.
Jean had—
Shifted.
Slipping out of the crowd.
She began—
Climbing.
Walking up the hidden stairs.
Clock hands lined the walls, pointing their tips towards the entrance below.
A faint blue light blinked between them, passing through the wall itself.
I shouldn't touch those.
The night sky above merged with the black smoke from the city, covering the silver light of distant stars.
Two grand gears were positioned beside her, lining the top of the walls.
Jean stooped atop the high walls, looking down towards the city below.
This is going to take two days to complete.
She lifted the duffle bag, removing one device box.
A button was pressed in, flipping out small spikes from the bottom.
Jean placed it near her feet, twisting it to screw the spikes next to one of the gears.
She continued this process, placing devices as she slowly walked along the wall towards the north gate.
The boxes were drilled into the metal, resting beneath the shadows of the large gears.
Jean paused above the northern gate.
I wonder what's on the other side.
She walked to the edge, shifting her eyes towards the ground.
A dim light—
Flickered.
Revealing a metal tunnel.
Jean's head tilted, observing the strange structure.
It leads into the ground?
She shook her head, stopping herself from reaching for her notepad.
The mission comes first.
Jean turned around, looking towards the night sky above.
The moon was overhead, shining its calm light on the city below.
Jean checked her wrist, looking at the green numbers on display.
It's been six hours…I can make it to the west before daybreak.
Her stride continued around the wall, placing devices as she moved towards the west.
The rubble of the western district stretched across the horizon before her.
Jean's hand—
Raised.
Lifting towards the broken ground.
A flash—
Bliped.
Across her mind.
Elaina lay—
Cold.
A figure—
Stood.
Looming over her body.
Her strings—
Gray.
Stripped.
Jean's eyes narrowed, trying to look towards the figure.
The memory—
Shattered.
Jean's hand lowered to her side as she turned towards the gear beside her.
Be careful…
She placed another boxed device before sitting underneath the rusted gold.
Her back rated against the cold steel as she pressed on her wrist, removing her disguise.
Jean took the backpack of her shoulders, reaching inside for a small container.
She twisted her fingers around the top, popping it off the hinges.
A stream of cold water flowed down her tongue as the bottle touched her lips.
Jean removed another box, lifting the lid to a sandwich.
She ate the food, placing the empty containers back into the backpack.
Her eyes—
Fluttered.
Slowly closing shut.
The destroyed landscape—
Persisted.
Being the last thing she viewed.
…Art.
…
The morning sun casted its warmth down upon the moving city below as clockwork figures began churning to their daily tasks.
Citizens moved about the third and fourth levels, being transported about in rusted sky boxes.
The limestone and metal streets were filled with the synchronized footsteps of the people as they all headed towards their stations.
Jean rose from her slumber, lifting the almost empty duffle bag.
Let's get going.
Her stride—
Paused.
As she glanced back.
The west—
Stretched.
Moving away behind her.
She placed devices along the walls, heading towards the southern gate.
The sun reached just past its peak as Jean arrived at her destination.
A large bridge, lined with mechanical figures holding fluorescent lights, connected towards the penitentiary districts in the distance.
The walls were repaired, surrounding a new glass tower.
Jean looked towards the prison.
The land—
Shifted.
Distorting the view of the far prison.
She exhaled through her nose, quickly placing the final devices from the duffle bag.
Jean left the empty bag at the final gear, before walking towards the edge of the wall.
Her veins—
Surged.
With a yellow light.
The rest go to the city.
Jean's walk—
Began.
As she descended towards the first level.
She walked through the mechanical workings of the first level, passing only the clockwork figures.
Rafters and pipes were exposed on the ground, trailing towards the same direction.
Loud screeching sounded from the metal railing above as gears ran fast along them.
A large hook protruded from their center, having two mechanical figures on either side of an attached box.
Jean tossed a small device to the ground as she continued walking through the sky.
She paused at the metal railing, waiting for another box to arrive.
This will make this much easier.
Jean entered the box, riding it along the expansive first level.
A box was tossed periodically towards the ground as she completed the first circle.
Jean's veins continued to flicker with a yellow hue as she exited the sky box.
This will take all day.
She continued towards the second level of the city, walking up through the sky.
Her heels clicked on the yellow platforms as she was surrounded by the refraction walls.
The city continued in motion, having all the people walk together in unison.
Sunlight passed behind the dark clouds, as it moved towards the western horizon.
Jean had entered the fourth level, standing above an array of soldiers.
Their blue uniforms filled the limestone area as they exited buildings crafted of metal and ticking parts.
She rubbed her temple as she descended towards the ground.
That fountain is where the last devices go.
Jean crouched behind a stationary truck, hiding behind the long rubber wheels.
She observed the guards, marching in unison at the clicking devices in the captains hands.
This place always felt wrong to me…
Jean stood to her feet, moving about the containers nearby.
…even back in that training.
The fountain—
Flowed.
Spouting water from the top.
It's shape—
Mirrored.
The central clock tower.
Jean slid the final box across the smooth ground, hiding it underneath the stone edge.
She looked at her wrist as she moved to the end of the fourth level, looking down towards the third.
The orange sunlight left the land below leaving the quiet shine of the moon.
Citizens returned to their assigned homes, going back to the same exact spots.
Jean leapt down, landing on a small yellow platform.
She walked—
Along the level rooftops.
It's time…
Jean paused at the tip of a clocktower, standing along the smooth railing.
Her arms—
Rested.
On the cold metal.
The tower—
Ticked.
Moving in unison with time.
A bell—
Chimed.
Signaling the midnight hour.
…Arthur.
…
The lampstand bulb buzzed, providing a dim orange light to the office.
Orange sunlight illuminated from the window, resting on the left side of him.
Arthus was—
Quiet.
Resting his arms on his chair.
He glanced to his right at the clean desk surface, reaching for the lone mug.
Preparations are complete.
The warm, black coffee bubbled his tastebuds with a subtle bitter feeling.
Its calm aroma wafted in the air around him as he returned the mug to the desk surface.
The handle faced him, having it angled to the right as smoke lifted from its surface.
His eyes—
Focused.
Looking towards a lone cabinet.
A gear was fastened in the center, being split perfectly down the middle.
The number—
Faded.
Scratched out from the center.
Arthur rose to his feet, slowly moving towards the cabinet.
The coffee—
Rippled.
As he moved closer.
The orange sunlight rested along his left side, outlining the suit adorned on his shoulders.
Arthur's hand—
Rested.
Along the right panel.
A scarlet light—
Streamed.
Moving along the seams of the cabinet.
The doors churned clicking inward as they slid to the sides.
Arthur's face—
Tightened.
Looking at the dark case.
A single—
Blade.
Fastened in the center.
A sleek black sheath encased the blade, having a scarlet line run down the center of the rectangle.
It stopped at the base of the sword handle as it passed over the half gear.
Arthur's hand—
Reached.
Let's settle this…
A memory—
Surfaced.
Arthur stood beneath the base of the clocktower, listening to the ticking of its hands.
A warm sunlight rested upon his shoulders as he looked towards the ground before him.
Another figure brushed the dirt off himself as he followed him to the sword rack, placing the training weapons back in their place.
Arthur—
Turned.
Facing the young figure.
A smile—
Formed.
On Arthur's lips.
Arthur reached for the sword on his right waist, shifting his black and gold uniform along with it.
The hilt—
Detached.
Resting across his hands.
The figure—
Reached.
Wrapping its fingers around the sheath.
The blade rested in the figure's right palm as the memory faded into distant warmth.
His view—
Returned.
To the quiet office.
Arthur sighed as he fastened the blade to his right side.
…Marco.
The single gear—
Clicked.
Once.