The first pale threads of dawn had only just fallen when the surging steam froze in the biting cold, clinging to the facades of the street's buildings. A thin frost crept over everything, devoured by the restless wind.
A pitch-black carriage halted before 121A Cork Street. Joey and Red Falcon waited inside, while Lloyd was summoned with unsettling efficiency—Merlin wasted no time. He had only agreed yesterday, and already men had come to fetch him today. Lloyd dressed with haste, fastening his coat, strapping on his sword, and taking up his rifle.
"I'd say that's a bit excessive, wouldn't you?"
Red Falcon eyed the Winchester Lloyd carried so openly. To an outsider, it might have looked as though he were on his way to kill.
"Just… a sense of security."
Lloyd answered flatly, taking his seat.
The carriage lurched forward, then gathered speed. The horses exhaled plumes of white vapor as they thundered through the streets of Old Dunling.
Through the window, Lloyd noticed something unusual—far more patrol officers than usual, each heavily armed. From time to time, the shrill whistle of iron signal pipes pierced the air as messages were relayed.
Nothing had been formally announced, yet the change was unmistakable. The city's atmosphere had shifted. Even the cold wind carried the faint scent of gunpowder, like the breath before war.
"So it's this serious already? Patrols everywhere."
Lloyd drew his gaze back. He had expected tighter control only within the inner districts, yet even the outer city was now saturated with enforcement.
"The Day of Divine Birth is approaching," Joey replied gravely. "Delegations from every nation will be attending. If demons were to surface then… the consequences would be unimaginable."
The Day of Divine Birth, a grand festival repeated year after year, had long outgrown its original meaning. In Old Dunling, it was marked with spectacle—colossal airships gliding across the heavens, scattering endless petals and lights. Crowds flooded the streets, exchanging blessings and celebration.
It was a display of national power. And for foreign delegations, a marketplace of opportunity.
From what Lloyd understood, the true celebration for them began not in daylight, but deep into the night—when one newly forged steam engine after another was unveiled for trade. That was the real centerpiece.
"I see. Then yes… that makes sense."
Lloyd spoke quietly. Ever since Inlveg had replaced the Holy Evangelical Papal State as the new hegemon, countless banners marched into the Platinum Palace each year at this time.
"To maintain order, Shrike has already prepared a covert purge of the lower districts," Joey continued. "Anyone harboring… undesirable intentions will be removed. Quietly."
Lloyd nodded. In times like these, severity was inevitable.
"Where exactly are we going?"
Only then, glancing outside once more, did he realize the scenery had changed entirely.
The carriage was heading somewhere unknown. The sky remained heavy and dim, vast columns of black smoke rising like pillars that held up heaven and earth. Beneath them lay gray silhouettes—steel giants, dozens of meters tall, moving with ponderous force. Each motion carried a deafening groan.
As one such giant fell behind them, Lloyd finally saw it clearly.
It was no living machine—but a dead one.
An abandoned crane, collapsed among rubble and mining pits like the carcass of a fallen titan. Its once-lustrous metal had long succumbed to rust. Workers crawled across its surface, small as ants, dismantling the corpse—like vultures feeding on decay.
"Welcome to the Victoria Industrial District," Red Falcon said, his voice tinged with pride. "The first industrial zone commissioned during the Radiant War by Queen Victoria herself. The Institute of Mechanics was built here. Every mineral, every resource—this entire place exists to serve it. The first steam engine in history was born here."
Lloyd stared, stunned, at this graveyard of steel. He had never imagined such a place existed within Old Dunling—as though an invisible wall had separated it from the ordinary world.
Ruined colossi and still-functioning constructs stood side by side. Thick gray dust filled the air, drifting like a storm of fine blades that scraped against the skin. Together, they formed a twisted forest of metal.
"Alright, Mr. Holmes. Time to disembark. The carriage can't go any further."
Red Falcon stepped down first, barely concealing his excitement. After all, few could resist such creations of steel—this was, in every sense, a man's romance.
"The northern reaches of Old Dunling are barren and frozen, but recent discoveries of mineral wealth have shifted the industrial focus there. Most of this area is abandoned now. Only a fraction of the machinery still runs."
"In fact, we're already on the outskirts of the city—you just haven't felt it yet. This district is… excessively large."
Lloyd stepped out.
Not far ahead, a train waited at the platform. Its carriages were dulled with grime and dust—a transport train, clearly used for hauling ore. Yet today, it welcomed an unusual passenger.
"Well? Impressive, isn't it?" Red Falcon grinned. "Our industrial foundation is unmatched. The north is where the real prosperity lies now—but not today. You'll see it another time."
There was pride in his voice. In a way, mechanics had become mankind's magic—so long as there was fuel, steam would rise, and steel beasts would awaken.
Men from centuries past would have called this heresy.
Ignorance had been shattered. Torn apart completely.
"If you ask me," Lloyd said as he boarded, "I'd have preferred a slightly cleaner train."
The train roared to life.
Tracks multiplied endlessly along the way, branching like veins before converging toward a single trunk. And at the end of that trunk—
A city of steel.
Lloyd had never truly understood the Institute of Mechanics. He knew only that it housed an academy, admitting only the most brilliant minds to receive the "gift" of machinery.
But this—this had nothing to do with a school.
Even from afar, he could see the military presence at the city's edge. Rows of polished smoothbore cannons gleamed coldly.
This was less an institution—
—and more a forbidden zone.
"This is the factory complex of the Institute," Red Falcon explained. "Core technologies are developed here, so it's sealed off. Workers live here. There are dormitories, dining halls—even entertainment facilities. Some spend their entire lives within these walls. They marry, have children… some of those children have never seen the outside world."
"You built another city beside Old Dunling?"
Lloyd murmured. Only now did he feel he was truly seeing the city in its entirety.
Inside, flames surged. Heat distorted the air itself. Rhythmic hammering echoed from afar.
But there was no time to linger.
The train stopped, and Red Falcon immediately led Lloyd toward a massive lift.
Chains groaned.
Then—
They descended.
The elevator was not fully enclosed. Through iron bars, Lloyd glimpsed what lay beneath.
In the darkness, rivers of gold flowed—molten iron, coursing through channels into waiting molds. Massive hammers rose and fell, assembling monstrous machines within rigid frames.
"This… is industrialization, Mr. Holmes."
Red Falcon spoke with deliberate timing.
Lloyd said nothing.
He understood well—this display was no accident. Arthur had allowed him to see this. Allies revealed their strength to one another.
Yet as Lloyd considered his own position—alone, armed with little more than knowledge of demons—
A faint unease crept in.
Then came the sound.
Water.
Clear, echoing… yet surrounded by darkness. Pale yellow light flickered against iron walls. The sound grew louder—like a colossal waterfall crashing from every direction.
"What is that?"
Lloyd asked.
The darkness answered with resonance, like a grand symphony.
Red Falcon's voice followed.
"We're passing through the main artery of the Furnace Pillar. It powers the entire Institute—and Old Dunling itself. But it requires enormous amounts of water. So decades ago, a group of madmen carved a channel from the Thames River, diverting its flow here."
"The water feeds every boiler. Along the way, filtration dams catch whatever comes through. Fish become extra meals."
"And corpses… are sent straight to the incinerators."
The Furnace Pillar. The Institute. The Victoria Industrial District. Underground drainage. The Serpent of the Atrium.
Layer upon layer, interlocked.
Together, they formed a complete mechanical ecosystem.
A perfect industrial cycle.
At last—the darkness broke.
The descent had lasted an unknowable span, but the elevator finally stopped. Dust scattered in the sudden brightness, every particle laid bare in the light.
Lloyd narrowed his eyes, momentarily overwhelmed.
Then the doors opened.
Light flooded in completely.
A man in a white scholar's robe stepped forward at once.
He recognized Lloyd instantly and extended his hand.
"Welcome… to the Perpetual Pump."
Lloyd took it.
He did not yet understand what the Perpetual Pump truly was—but from its position alone, it was clearly far more important than anything above ground.
His gaze flicked to the man's nameplate.
The man noticed—and smiled.
"I am Nikola Tesla," he said. "Lead supervisor of this project."
His pale, almost sickly face stretched into a practiced smile—
—meant to reassure the valuable specimen he had worked so hard to obtain.