The freight lift slammed into its topmost bracket with a heavy, unyielding groan. Metal sheared somewhere in the overhead pulleys. The platform shuddered, tilting three degrees to the left before the emergency brake pins dropped into place.
Daxian crawled forward. His palms scraped against the greasy iron mesh floor. Every breath tasted like rust and raw ozone, but he did not stop to wait for the dizziness to clear.
The sorting gates stretched out across a massive, high-pressure pressure tier. Unlike the chaotic, dust-choked tunnels of the lower drainage networks, this level operated with a terrifying, mechanical precision. Massive overhead conveyor lines cut through the dark, carrying tons of raw obsidian chunks toward a series of rotating iron sieves.
The sound was a continuous, deafening roar—the shrieking of rock crushed under diamond-tipped rollers.
A sorting crane swung past, its massive three-pronged claw dropping to clear a jammed hopper twenty paces away. Daxian dragged himself behind a heavy steel support pillar. His right arm hung uselessly, pinned against his flank by the makeshift silk wrap, but he used his functional arm to haul his weight up against the cold iron beam.
He looked down at the control console mounted to the base of the pillar. The display was a primitive mechanical matrix, its brass tumblers clicking rapidly as it logged the incoming weight from the lower lines.
The ledger showed three cargo lifts arriving within the last ten minutes.
Two carried raw ore. The third line—the one Vesper had been trapped inside—had bypassed the primary crushers entirely. It had been routed directly toward the high-security processing blocks located on the eastern ridge.
Daxian reached for the mechanical override lever on the console.
Footsteps cut through the roar of the machinery. Fast. Rhythmic.
A guard rounded the corner of the conveyor housing, an iron-tipped pike held low. He caught sight of Daxian's form against the pillar and didn't hesitate. He thrust the pike straight toward Daxian's throat.
Daxian lunged sideways.
The iron tip scraped the metal support beam, sparks flying into the dark.
The guard pulled back instantly, resetting his stance to swing the heavy shaft horizontally.
Daxian didn't try to parry. He stepped inside the guard's reach, using his shoulder to jam the man's forearm before the strike could gather momentum. He brought his operational fist upward, driving it straight into the exposed skin beneath the guard's jawline.
The impact crackled. The guard staggered backward, his heels catching on an exposed iron rail.
He didn't fall. He recovered his balance, his fingers instantly reaching for a brass alarm whistle mounted to his collar armor.
Daxian lunged again. He grabbed the guard's leather lapel, using his entire body weight to hurl both of them over the low safety barrier onto the moving conveyor line below.
They hit the fast-moving belt hard.
Sharp obsidian chunks tore through leather and skin alike. The belt rushed toward the primary sieve intake at twenty miles an hour. The massive iron teeth of the crusher loomed less than thirty feet away, chewing through boulders with a horrific, wet grinding noise.
The guard panicked. He completely forgot about the whistle, scrambling frantically toward the side rail to pull himself off the belt.
Daxian caught him by the ankle.
The guard kicked back violently, his heavy metal heel striking Daxian's injured side.
The pain was blinding. Daxian's grip slipped, but he forced his fingers to lock around the guard's leather greave, pulling the man down flat against the moving stone blocks. The crusher was ten feet away now. The down-draft from the spinning iron teeth sucked up the loose dust, pulling everything toward the center vortex.
The guard screamed, his fingers clawing at the smooth obsidian rocks on the belt.
Daxian didn't look at the teeth. He looked at the low clearance bar hanging just four feet above the conveyor line—a heavy iron beam used to level the incoming stone. As the belt carried them beneath it, Daxian reached up with his good hand, catching the edge of the stationary beam with a desperate, lunging grip.
His fingers clamped onto the cold iron.
The momentum of the moving belt ripped the guard straight out from under him.
The man slid helplessly down the line, his leather armor screeching against the rubber surface before he vanished into the rotating maw of the crusher. A brief, metallic shriek rang out as his gear jammed the primary teeth, followed by a violent explosion of gray smoke that triggered the automatic cutoff valves.
The conveyor belt ground to an abrupt, violent halt.
Daxian let go of the clearance beam, dropping heavily onto the stationary belt. He lay there for three long seconds, his face pressed against the cold stone as the automated emergency klaxons began to wail across the tier.
The entire sorting yard was waking up. Red warning beacons flared from the ceiling, cutting through the lime dust in long, sweeping cones of light.
He pushed himself up, using the side rail of the conveyor to balance his frame. His body was a collection of raw fires, but the layout of the eastern processing block was now clearly visible across the gap. A narrow, uncovered maintenance cat-walk connected the sorting gate to the high-security sector where the tracking logs had routed Vesper's lift.
The door at the far end of the cat-walk was already beginning to slide shut as the automated lockdown protocols took effect.
Daxian didn't think about his injuries. He didn't evaluate his chances.
He broke into a ragged, uneven sprint along the narrow iron grating of the catwalk. The wind through the cavern gap whipped against him, but his eyes remained locked entirely on the shrinking gap of the heavy security portal ahead.
Two seconds.
The iron door dropped down to a three-foot clearance.
He threw his body forward in a low, flat slide across the greasy iron grating, his shoulders clearing the bottom edge of the portal just as the massive steel slab hit the stone threshold with a concussive thud that sealed the chamber completely.
The darkness inside the processing block was absolute, and the hunt had only just begun.