The Deep-Vein Station fell into a heavy, oppressive silence. The only sound was the steady, rhythmic glug-glug of water finally moving through the primary intake—a sound that should have been a victory, but felt like a countdown. I stood over the inspection hatch, the heat still radiating off the Centurion's scorched plates.
I ignored the approaching footsteps of Valerius and his mages. I pulled a small magnifying lens from my kit and leaned into the throat of the iron pipe. The runes I had spotted weren't just etched; they were micro-welded into the grain of the metal. It was a masterpiece of precision engineering.
"The pressure is stable," Valerius announced, his voice regaining some of its oily confidence as he stepped onto the walkway. "A crude but effective display, Valcrey. My mages will take it from here. We shall begin the restorative wards now that the 'debris' has been cleared."
