The three stood on the deck of "The Floating Whisper," which crouched like a metal beast atop the gate, looking down at the courtyard. Suddenly, ghosts began to form in the sky above them, glowing with their eerie blue light and screaming in their faces, trying to strike terror into their hearts.
But Silas didn't bat an eyelid. He stood firm, staring through the dancing specters as if they were cheap cigar smoke. He had realized their game; it was merely a visual and auditory trick to scare off intruders, a psychological weapon that harmed no body.
"It looks like a factory..." Elyra said, scanning the courtyard with her sharp gaze. "Who would have expected this in a place like this? The work activity seems very lively." She stopped speaking suddenly, raising her hand to rub her temples vigorously, knitting her brows in pain. She felt a sharp, sudden pulse hitting her head, a strange headache she hadn't known before, as if something in the air of this factory was pressing on her skull.
"AAHHH! What are those floating things?!" Poggles screamed in terror, clinging to Silas's coat from behind, trying to hide from the blue ghosts. "They are looking at me! I'm sure they want to eat my gears!"
Silas ignored Poggles' usual drama and said firmly: "Are you ready to descend?"
Poggles shook his head violently until his eyes almost fell out: "No! I won't go! Impossible! You go if you want to die; I will stay here with The Floating Whisper. Someone has to guard the ship, right?"
Silas smiled a half-smile: "Alright, I'm counting on you, Poggles. Take good care of the ship. And now... can you direct one of the legs downward?" He pointed his hand toward the courtyard floor.
Poggles let out an electronic whistle, and the ship's system responded. One of the massive mechanical legs moved slowly, its joints bending to form something like a bridge or an inclined elevator toward the ground. Silas and Elyra held onto the metal protrusions of the leg and slid down cautiously until their feet touched the solid factory floor.
Below, the workers in white ghost uniforms stood helpless. They couldn't use gas or explosive projectiles because the ship and the intruders were at very close range, and any explosion might spread burning smoke among them and damage the factory itself. They could do nothing but watch, waiting for orders.
The same was true for Captain Jackson and The Supervisor, who were watching from the high balcony in astonishment. The ship was moving and bending its leg as if it were a trained living creature, a sight not seen every day even in this strange world.
'Is this their ship?' The Supervisor addressed himself, his eyes gleaming with cold greed behind his mask. 'I didn't know you were this exceptional... technology like this shouldn't be in the hands of amateurs.'
Silas advanced, cane in hand, walking with friendly steps toward a group of six workers standing in the courtyard, alert. "Hello..." Silas said, raising his hand in peace. "Wait, we are not here to fight. We just want to ask some questions regarding..."
They didn't give him a chance to finish his sentence. They moved as one silent mass, rushing toward him to attack with fists and heavy metal tools they were carrying. One of them tried to land a powerful punch on Silas's face.
But before the hand could reach, a swift shadow intervened. Elyra blocked the punch with her forearm, and with a fluid motion, twisted the worker's arm and pushed him away. "It seems they don't like talking, Silas!" Elyra shouted.
The remaining four pounced on her all at once. Elyra didn't draw her sword blade. She didn't want to kill yet. She held the sword by its sheath, using it as a combat staff. She struck the first one with the brass hilt of the sword in his stomach, and he fell gasping. She ducked to avoid a wrench blow from the second, then kicked him in the knee with force, making him scream and fall. She spun around and struck the third and fourth on their heads with the sword sheath in a quick double move. In mere seconds, the four workers were writhing on the ground.
"Oh... Oh..." Captain Jackson whistled from the balcony, clapping slowly. "That girl is good... very good." He turned to the Supervisor with a feral smile: "It seems you are under attack, my friend. And since I am here, and we have a partnership... I will offer you my services to help. My hands are itching for some fun." He left the Supervisor standing and jumped from the high balcony boldly toward the courtyard.
The Supervisor's eyes turned red with anger under the mask. He didn't want Jackson to interfere, but the situation was spiraling out of control. "Call everyone!" The Supervisor screamed in a booming metallic voice that echoed throughout the factory, addressing the remaining workers. "Get out to the courtyard and catch those intruders! I want them alive... and that ship... I will have it!"
The main factory door opened, and two workers ran quickly inside, probably to call for reinforcements. "They called everyone..." Silas muttered anxiously. "How many are there? I hope we don't get into bigger trouble." He looked at Elyra: "Let's chase them! They might lead us to a safe place or another exit!"
Silas and Elyra took off running after the fleeing workers, cutting through the factory's outer corridors filled with pipes and steam.
Suddenly, one of the workers stopped abruptly in front of a huge side door, causing Silas and Elyra to stop cautiously, ready to fight. The worker turned to them. He was wearing the white ghostly uniform and the smooth mask. Slowly, he raised his hand and removed the mask from his face. He revealed the face of a young man, his features ordinary but full of fear and tension, sweat pouring from his forehead.
"Follow me inside this hall..." the young man said in a breathless voice, opening the heavy door and pushing his colleague inside. "Come on, quickly! Before the rest arrive!"
Silas and Elyra hesitated for a moment. Is it a trap? But the sound of heavy footsteps and the shouting of many men began to approach from behind them. There was no time to think. They entered the hall, and the young man closed the iron door behind them and bolted it shut.
Silence fell suddenly, and the noise outside was cut off. Silas turned to see where they were. It was a vast hall, its ceiling very high, details lost in the darkness. The walls were lined with layers of lead and thick metal. It wasn't a manufacturing hall; it looked more like a storage place or an archive. But what stood out more than anything else, stealing their gaze, were those long metal shelves extending along the walls. They were filled with cylindrical glass canisters, tightly sealed with copper lids. And inside each canister... there was liquid blue light, glowing and pulsing slowly in the dark, casting dancing blue shadows on their faces.
Silas walked slowly toward one of the canisters, his eyes reflecting the blue light in astonishment. "Why are you helping us?" Elyra asked sharply, still holding her sword, directing her question to the young man who was leaning his back against the door to catch his breath.
The young man looked at them, a mix of despair and hope in his eyes: "Because I want you to help me... get off this island."