In the outer courtyard in front of the factory, The Supervisor stood on the high balcony, clasping his hands behind his back, his eyes behind the raven mask watching the ship crouching before him coldly. Below, dozens of workers in ghost uniforms had gathered, frozen in place, waiting for the signal.
"Go on…" The Supervisor whispered faintly, then raised his voice in command.
"Seize the ship! Let's make it ours!"
The workers surged like a torrent toward The Floating Whisper. The Supervisor was confident of success; he had seen the two intruders, Silas and Elyra, descend, and he was unaware that a small mechanical guardian had remained aboard.
They crowded around the base of the mechanical leg, still hanging down like a bridge, and began climbing eagerly, gripping metal protrusions and exposed gears.
On deck, Poggles didn't notice at first what was happening below. He was still mesmerized by the sight of the screaming blue ghosts hovering in the sky, shuddering whenever one drifted too close.
"Get away, you corrupted data! Get away!" he shouted, waving his small hand.
A slight vibration ran through the ship's hull, drawing his attention downward. His glass eyes bulged when he saw the white-clad workers climbing the leg, nearly halfway up.
"AAAH! Parasites! Human parasites attempting to board!" Poggles screamed in panic.
A sharp, erratic electronic whistling burst from his body, high-pitched and distorted, like a signal never meant for human ears. The sound accelerated rapidly, accompanied by frantic flashes in his glass eyes, as if the ship's systems themselves were responding to his call.
The ship responded immediately.
The mechanical leg emitted a piercing screech, then snapped upward with sudden force, lifting itself off the ground in a swift, violent motion. The workers swung helplessly in the air, screaming and scrambling for purchase, but the movement was far beyond their strength. One by one, they fell, slamming into the hard ground with broken bones and bruises.
Poggles didn't stop there.
"We are not running away… we are tactically repositioning!" he declared loudly, the electronic whistling settling into a steadier, controlled rhythm.
The Floating Whisper strode away from the gate and courtyard on its massive legs, disappearing into the thick fog surrounding the factory.
From the balcony, the Supervisor narrowed his eyes in shock and fury as he watched the workers writhe on the ground and the ship vanish.
"What?" he muttered. "Was someone else aboard? I encountered only two… Does the ship operate on its own?"
He slammed his fist against the iron railing. "It doesn't matter. It won't get far on this island."
Inside the sealed hall, tension had reached its peak. The violent pounding on the main door grew louder as the workers outside tried to break it down.
Elyra turned toward the young worker who had led them there, pointing her sword at him.
"Are you trying to set us up? Or what? Why did you bring us to a dead end?"
Before the young man could answer, the door on the opposite side of the hall burst open. A man entered, twirling his sword in a flamboyant circular motion, a wide grin stretched across his face. It was Captain Jackson.
"I knew I'd find you here!" Jackson said cheerfully as he advanced, as if strolling through a park rather than a hostile factory.
"You're nothing but a bunch of amateur thieves."
His gaze swept over them as he pointed his sword at each in turn.
"A fighting woman… a fool with a stick… and a damned traitor."
He paused on the young man with a look of contempt before continuing.
"No personal grudges. But I have business here with my partner, the Supervisor, and I intend to finish it by taking out the trash."
Silas stepped forward, gripping his cane tightly, trying to confront him, but a soft yet firm arm stopped him.
"Stand back, Silas," Elyra said in a calm, dangerous voice as she moved in front of him.
"I'll handle this loudmouth."
She fully revealed the blade of White Fang and dropped into a low combat stance. Jackson let out a mocking whistle.
"Oi, oi… letting your whore fight for you? How shameful. I don't like fighting women. They ruin the fun with all the screaming."
Elyra answered with action. She lunged forward at incredible speed, her blade carving a silver arc through the air. Jackson raised his sword with apparent laziness, yet blocked her strike with perfect precision.
CLANG!
Sparks flew as the blades collided. Jackson was no mere loudmouthed pirate; he was strong. Elyra pressed with all her weight, but he didn't budge. A brutal, rapid exchange followed. Elyra fought with a sharp, technical style, striking at weak points, while Jackson fought wildly and unpredictably, kicking, swinging his heavy sword as if it weighed nothing, laughing with every block.
"You're not bad!" Jackson laughed, narrowly dodging a thrust that nearly took his eye.
"But you lack real anger!"
Suddenly, the main door shattered. Dozens of workers flooded into the hall, shouting and wielding clubs and crude weapons.
The young worker seized the moment. He swiftly pulled his white mask back over his face and slipped away from Silas, vanishing between the shelves and into the shadows.
Jackson stepped back, scowling at the incoming workers.
"Terrible timing! I was enjoying myself!"
Elyra scanned the room. Workers poured in like ants.
Too many… I can't fight all of them, face this madman, and protect Silas at the same time.
She retreated, positioning herself as a shield in front of Silas as the workers rushed them.
One worker swung at her from the side. She barely dodged while blocking another strike from Jackson. Silas realized he had become a liability in this open fight. He needed a better position.
He looked up and spotted a thick steam pipe running along the high wall.
"I'm going up!" he shouted to Elyra.
He aimed his cane upward and pulled the trigger. A metal hook shot out, wrapping tightly around the pipe. He pressed the retract switch, and the rope began hauling him upward, lifting him out of reach.
"I won't allow it!"
Jackson caught the movement. With terrifying reflexes, he drew a small dagger from his belt and hurled it with deadly accuracy, not at Silas, but at the taut rope.
SNAP!
The rope was severed mid-air.
Silas lost his balance and fell from a height of three meters. Jackson surged forward, swinging his sword to finish it. Silas twisted instinctively, but the blade still tore deep into his thigh.
"AAAH!"
Silas slammed into the ground, rolling and clutching his leg as blood poured freely, soaking his brown trousers a dark crimson.
"Silas!" Elyra screamed in horror as she saw him sprawled on the floor, bleeding and helpless. She tried to reach him, but the workers closed in from every side.
Jackson stepped over Silas, lowering the tip of his sword toward the young man's throat. Silas's mind raced despite the agony ripping through his body.
Is this it? Am I dying here…
He looked up at Jackson, then screamed with everything he had left.
"Elyra!"
Jackson threw his head back and laughed, the laugh of a victor savoring the final moment.
"Hahahahahaha! Goodbye, Rat!"