The air in the Insurgency hangar was stagnant, thick with the metallic tang of ozone and the heavy, earthy scent of ancient grease. It was a far cry from the polished marble floors of the Guild Hall or the high-altitude crispness of the Icarus Crater. This was a place of shadows and survival a sanctuary for those who had been discarded by the System's rigid hierarchy.
Kenji Tanaka sat on the edge of a crates, his hands still trembling slightly from the residual hum of [Scrap Velocity]. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the searing white light of Grand Master Alaric Vance. He could still feel the phantom pressure of the light-spears passing through the space he had just occupied.
He was now a Rank 4 Adept, but he felt like a man who had climbed a mountain only to realize he was standing at the base of a much larger, darker range.
"Drink this," Priya said, handing him a canteen filled with a glowing green liquid. "It's not a high-rank potion, but it's a pure botanical restoration. It'll settle your core."
Kenji took a sip. It tasted like bitter moss and iron, but the cooling sensation that spread through his chest was immediate. He looked up at his team. They were scattered around the hangar, each dealing with the shock in their own way.
Mateo was compulsively checking his sound-dampeners, his fingers moving with frantic speed. Elara stood by a window, staring out at the dark, industrial wasteland that surrounded the hangar, her posture stiff and regal despite her tattered robes. Zola was cleaning her earth-metal gauntlets, her expression unreadable, while Bjorn sat in a corner, his head in his hands, breathing heavily.
"We're alive," Mateo whispered, more to himself than anyone else. "We actually survived a Grand Master."
"We didn't just survive," Zola grunted, not looking up from her work. "Tanaka made him stumble. That's more than anyone in the last hundred years can say."
Finnian walked over, his heavy boots echoing on the concrete. He was flanked by the woman with the cybernetic eye the one Finnian had introduced as Commander Kael.
"The Grand Master didn't stumble because you're stronger, kid," Finnian said, his voice gravelly. "He stumbled because he couldn't calculate you. The System is built on predictable variables. Rank 8 beats Rank 7. Fire beats Ice. But 'Scrap' isn't a variable. It's the noise in the machine."
Commander Kael stepped forward, tapping a button on a holographic console. The map of the world flickered to life again, seven dark red pulses throbbing like open wounds across the continents.
"Alaric Vance is currently undergoing a 're-calibration' at the Central Authority," Kael said. "He'll be out of commission for forty-eight hours while they repair his light-anchor. That is our window. If we don't move now, they'll lock down every Transit Gate on the planet."
She pointed to the first pulse, located deep in the southern hemisphere, submerged beneath a churning, violet sea.
"This is the Sunken Citadel of the Deep. It was once the capital of a civilization that tried to harness the 'Void Scrap' the energy left behind when a Gate collapses completely. They failed, and the city was swallowed. One of the Seven Fallen Stars the Scrap of the Abyssal Heart is located in the central spire."
Kenji stood up, his legs feeling steadier. "Why us? You have an army of unranked soldiers. Why rely on a Scrapsmith and a handful of mid-rankers?"
Kael's cybernetic eye whirred as it focused on Kenji's chest. "Because of that. You aren't just holding the scraps, Tanaka. You're integrating them. Our soldiers can use railguns and stealth, but they can't touch the Stars. Only someone with an adaptive core,someone, the System has already failed to categorize can survive the Abyssal Heart."
She turned to Elara. "And you, Frost Weaver. You're the daughter of the Volkov family, aren't you? Your family practically owns the Northern Grid."
Elara didn't flinch. "I am a Frost Weaver of the Guild. My family name is irrelevant."
"It's very relevant," Kael countered. "Your father is the one who signed the warrant for Tanaka's extraction. If you stay with him, you aren't just a fugitive. You're a traitor to your bloodline."
Elara's gaze didn't waver. "I saw what the Grand Master tried to do. I saw the 'Purity' he promised. If that is what my family supports, then I have no family."
A heavy silence followed. Kenji looked at Elara, seeing a new, hardened resolve in her eyes. She wasn't just a tactical support anymore; she was a rebel.
"The Sunken Citadel is a Rank A Zone," Finnian interjected, breaking the tension. "The pressure alone will crush a Rank 4 core. You'll need specialized gear, and you'll need to master your new skill, [Scrap Velocity], in an environment where movement is resisted by millions of tons of water."
Kenji looked at his interface.
[SKILL ANALYSIS: [Scrap Velocity]]
Current Mastery: 5%
Note: Skill effectiveness is significantly reduced in high-density mediums (Water, Solid Earth).
Evolution Path: Integrate [Abyssal Heart] to unlock [Fluidity Protocol].
"I need to train," Kenji said. "I can't lead them into an A-Rank zone if I can't even move in a swimming pool."
"We don't have time for a pool," Kael said, walking toward a massive, cylindrical tank at the back of the hangar. It was filled with a thick, dark liquid that looked more like oil than water. "This is the Hyperbaric Scrap-Bath. It simulates the pressure of the deep ocean and the chaotic energy of a collapsing Gate. You have six hours."
The inside of the tank was a nightmare.
The moment Kenji was submerged, the weight hit him like a physical blow. It wasn't just the pressure of the liquid; it was the density of the residual magic suspended within it. It was "heavy scrap", the bits of magic too thick and disorganized to be used by normal Rankers.
Kenji struggled to breathe through the specialized rebreather Kael had provided. He tried to activate [Scrap Velocity], but the golden-gray aura that had allowed him to blitz a Grand Master barely flickered. The liquid was too thick; it absorbed the kinetic energy before it could propel him.
[SYSTEM ALERT: KINETIC FRICTION EXCEEDS CURRENT THRESHOLD]
[VELOCITY OUTPUT: 0.2%]
"Think, Tanaka," Kenji hissed into his rebreather. "The scrap isn't an obstacle. It's the medium."
He stopped trying to push against the liquid. Instead, he started to pull.
He used his basic Scrapsmith attraction, drawing the heavy scrap particles into the slipstream of his kinetic aura. He wasn't trying to move through the water; he was trying to make the water move with him.
Slowly, the golden-gray aura began to change. It thinned out, becoming more streamlined, more aerodynamic. He began to spin, creating a localized vortex that reduced the friction around his body.
[SKILL MASTERY INCREASING: 12%... 18%...]
[NEW PROTOCOL DETECTED: [Hydro-Kinetic Adaption]]
Outside the tank, the team watched the monitors with bated breath.
"He's learning to use the resistance as a fuel source," Elara whispered, her eyes fixed on the energy readings. "He's not just moving; he's regulating the density of the environment itself."
"He's a monster," Mateo said, a note of awe in his voice. "A beautiful, terrifying monster."
After four hours of grueling exertion, Kenji burst from the surface of the tank, gasping for air. His skin was glowing with a faint, bioluminescent teal light the residue of the heavy scrap he had absorbed.
[RANK 4 ADEPT: PROGRESSION 35%]
[SKILL MASTERY: [Scrap Velocity] - 25% (Adept Level)]
"I'm ready," Kenji panted, climbing out of the tank. "Where's the transport?"
"Waiting at the sub-dock," Kael said, her cybernetic eye glowing with approval. "But be warned, Tanaka. The Sunken Citadel isn't just a graveyard of magic. It's guarded by the Sentinels of the Void automatons that were left behind to ensure the Abyssal Heart never returns to the surface. They don't have Ranks. They only have one directive: Annihilate."
The transport was a sleek, black submersible that looked like a jagged shard of obsidian. As it dove into the violet depths of the southern sea, the light of the sun quickly faded, replaced by the eerie, pulsing glow of deep-sea flora.
The team sat in silence, the only sound the low hum of the engines and the creaking of the hull under the immense pressure.
"Thirty minutes to the Citadel," the pilot announced.
Kenji looked at his hands. The teal glow was still there. He felt the Absolute Defense and Kinetic Lift scraps vibrating in his chest, sensing the proximity of their sibling, the Abyssal Heart.
Suddenly, the submersible lurched violently.
"Evasive maneuvers!" the pilot shouted. "We've got incoming! Multiple signatures!"
Kenji looked out the viewport. Emerging from the darkness were dozens of sleek, mechanical entities that looked like skeletal manta rays. Their bodies were made of the same dark, pressurized metal as the Citadel's ruins.
"The Sentinels," Elara said, her hands already glowing with frost. "They found us early."
"They aren't just Sentinels," Zola observed, pointing to the lead entity. Attached to its hull was a familiar, glowing device, a Central Authority Tracker.
"Alaric Vance didn't wait forty-eight hours," Kenji realized, his blood turning to ice. "He didn't need to recover. He just sent the Sentinels the coordinates. He's using the D-H against us."
The sub's hull groaned as a Sentinel slammed into it, its metallic claws tearing through the reinforced plating.
"Brace yourselves!" Kenji ordered, his core erupting with teal and golden light. "We're going out there!"
"In this pressure?" Mateo screamed. "We'll be crushed!"
"Not if I regulate the field!" Kenji grabbed the air, pulling the ambient pressure scrap toward him. "Priya, buffer the team! Zola, give us a stone shell! We're making our own diving bell!"
The side hatch of the submersible blew open, and the team was sucked out into the freezing, crushing darkness of the Rank A zone.
But as they tumbled, a brilliant teal sphere of regulated energy expanded around them. Kenji stood at the center, his eyes glowing like twin stars. He wasn't just a scrapsmith anymore. He was the master of the deep.
"Welcome to the Sunken Citadel," Kenji whispered, the [Scrap Velocity] propelling the entire team through the water like a torpedo. "Let's go find a heart."