Chapter 32: The Dead Letter Office
The interior of the Rig was stiflingly quiet. Silas stared at the radar screen, his face pale, while Serena methodically checked the seals on her pneumatic cannons. Xavier stood at the main viewport, staring down into the jagged, sapphire-blue maw of the crevice that had opened beneath the fallen Glacier Guardian.
"The signal is coming from three hundred meters down," Aurelius hummed, his golden eye-casing rotating with a series of mechanical clicks. "The encryption is ancient, Xavier. It is a 'Courier's Handshake'—a protocol used by the original founders of the Magical Logistics Guild."
"My father's code," Xavier whispered.
"We can't just leave the warehouse at the top," Serena said, her voice unusually soft. "If the Void Logistics group is tracking that signal too, they'll seize the Rig the moment we step out. We take the house down with us."
Xavier nodded. "Aurelius, initiate Thermal Anchor. We're going down."
The warehouse groaned as four massive, heated metal spikes extended from the foundation, biting into the sheer ice walls of the crevice. The Rig began to descend, sliding down the vertical cliffside like a specialized elevator, steam hissing as the Thermal Floor melted a path through the ancient ice.
At the bottom of the abyss, the ice gave way to something impossible: a massive, rusted iron doorway embedded in the bedrock. The warehouse came to a halt, its hydraulic legs locking into place.
Xavier stepped out, flanked by Silas and a small, drone-mounted version of Aurelius. They weren't in a cave; they were in a Dead Letter Office—a graveyard for undelivered magic. The hallways were lined with shelves reaching into the darkness, piled high with packages wrapped in chains, glowing scrolls that had lost their destination, and rusted delivery drones that looked like primitive ancestors of Xavier's own engine.
"This place... it's a time capsule," Silas whispered, his vines reaching out to touch a dusty crate marked 'Fragile: Dragon Fire – Destination: Unknown'.
They reached a central laboratory. It was a mirror image of Xavier's own warehouse, but cluttered with old-world blueprints and half-disassembled engines. On a central desk sat a heavy, black box wrapped in pulsing blue chains—a Zero-Point Package.
Beside it lay a leather-bound logbook. Xavier opened it, his breath catching as he recognized the handwriting.
"The engine is the key to the gate," the final entry read. "If I don't return, the delivery stays in the dark. The son must carry the weight the father could not."
"Touching that would be a breach of contract, Xavier."
The shadows in the corner of the lab curdled. A man stepped forward, dressed in a tattered, high-collar duster. His skin was unnaturally pale, and through his chest, a sickly purple glow pulsed—not a mechanical engine, but a Void Core.
"Vane," Xavier hissed, recognizing the face from an old photograph in his father's study. "The apprentice who went rogue."
"I didn't go rogue," Vane sneered, his body flickering like a bad holofeed. "I evolved. Your father was obsessed with 'The Delivery.' I was obsessed with 'The Power.' Give me the Zero-Point Package, and I might let you leave this tomb."
Vane moved. He didn't run; he flickered. He was using a corrupted version of Engine Sync that allowed him to phase in and out of the Void. He appeared behind Xavier, his hand wreathed in purple lightning.
Xavier didn't dodge. He couldn't. Instead, he planted his feet and activated the Momentum Buffer.
CRACK.
Vane's strike landed squarely on Xavier's shoulder, but the force didn't break bone. The Kinetic Battery flared to life, absorbing the impact and storing it as a hum of white-hot energy in Xavier's chest.
"You can't hit what isn't there!" Vane mocked, flickering away as Xavier swung the Exhaust Saber.
"I don't need to hit you," Xavier gritted his teeth, his RPM redlining. "I just need to fill the room."
Xavier waited for the next flicker. As Vane reappeared for a finishing blow, Xavier released the pressure.
[Skill: Overclock Discharge!]
All the kinetic energy he had stored from Vane's attacks, combined with his own internal steam pressure, erupted in a 360-degree shockwave. The laboratory was filled with superheated vapor and kinetic force. Vane, caught mid-phase, was blasted out of the Void and slammed into the stone wall, his purple core sputtering.
"This delivery... is overdue," Xavier growled.
The Final Message
Vane coughed, a dark liquid leaking from his eyes. He tapped a device on his wrist, and a portal of pure shadow opened behind him. "Enjoy your inheritance, Driver. It's a curse, not a gift." He vanished into the darkness.
As the laboratory began to crumble from the force of the explosion, a small holographic projector on the desk whirred to life.
A man with tired eyes and the same messy hair as Xavier appeared in the flickering blue light. He wasn't trapped; he looked like he was on the run.
"Xavier," the hologram said, his voice crackling. "If you're reading this, it means you've found the Office. The Zero-Point Package contains the coordinates to the Final Destination. I am a Courier for the Gods now, son. There are things being moved in the dark that should never reach their destination. Don't look for me. Look for the map."
The hologram faded as the ceiling groaned.
"Xavier! We have to go!" Silas yelled, grabbing the Zero-Point Package.
Xavier grabbed the logbook and sprinted for the Rig. As the warehouse lifted off, melting its way back up the crevice, Xavier stared at the black box in his lap. The journey wasn't about delivery routes anymore. It was about a war between the light and the void.