A sudden clang echoed as Axiom settled its full mass on the worn iron grid, the barrel flickering near jagged openings shaped like diamonds. Below that thick layer of metal, a glowing blue channel pulsed - alive with rough machine current bound for cannons along the warship's left flank.
Down on one knee went Vance, next to the creature, tuning out the shaky voices of the stranded outer-ring children pressed into the dark corners. His body sinking lower sent a sharp, grating ache up through the bones of his right foot. Every year of those fifteen added during the fusion now made that whole limb feel empty inside, like something scraped clean and filled with splinters and old metal shards. A wave of sickness rose, but he held it back, pressing his good hand steady against the thick muscle at the lynx's throat.
A sudden rush surged through the link between them when Vance let go. Not thinking twice, he tore down the barriers holding back what it craved. The thing inside roared to life, free at last.
Out of nowhere, electricity surged as the creature sent jagged pulses into the metal floor. From its thick talons, shadowy flashes leapt across the rusted mesh, hunting the hidden wire beneath. In a flash - chaotic, fierce - the link snapped tight. Not flesh, not blood - it fed on power lines, gulping down burning current like air.
A jolt of raw electricity tore along the Tether, flooding past Vance's nerves straight into the gilded cog tucked below his sternum. Instead of soaking it in, the hollowed-out Astral Engine seized the surge awkwardly. Ancient metal shrieked - clutching at rotation through jagged, trembling resistance - as if quaking apart right behind his breastbone.
Fumes of scorched plastic crept into Vance's mouth, sharp like sparks snapped loose in the air. Upside-down images tore across his eyes - voids one second, searing outlines the next, the world flipping without warning. Those jagged electric links pinching his arm tightened without mercy as current roared through them. Heat bit deep, metal threads dragging fire across tissue, making him snatch a thin cry before sound could form.
From the brand low on his neck, a sharp chill spread, cutting through the burn. Though the device in his chest swallowed raw energy from distant guns, that frozen sign lit up, pushing hard against it. Cold like cracked stone now hammered at the base of his mind, working against the machine's hold. Instead of holding steady, the freezing pressure tugged his thoughts downward - toward the many-limbed thing buried deep beneath him.
Out of nowhere, the Dreadnought's engines changed their steady thud. Through the maze of lower levels, a low creak rolled like distant thunder.
Flickering wildly now, the bright blue beam under the wooden planks pulsed like it was losing control. From deep in his chest, Axiom growled - a steady roar closer to a machine tearing itself apart than any living thing. His two tails snapped through the air, slashing jagged bolts of shadowed electricity across the steel bars caging them in.
From the back corner came Elian's strained voice, hunched inward, arms locked around his legs. Light inside the cell started fading slowly now.
Vance spoke through clenched teeth, voice rough like gravel under boots. His jaw throbbed from how tightly he held it shut.
A crack split the floor below, spitting out jagged streaks of blue and ink-black light. Wires that were once solid now ran like wax, eaten by something ravenous. Then - nothing. Not even shadows remained in the pit.
A heartbeat passed. The thick magnetic lock on the iron door snapped open, roaring like thunder. Metal groaned. Silence broke hard.
Out of nowhere, shouts burst from the teens held inside when the huge vessel jerked hard. When the main gun's power feed failed on a Mark-II Dreadnought, safety systems fired one after another along the left-side network. As strong engines kicked in to balance the blackout, the floor beneath them listed steeply.
Upward he pushed, using the cold steel rails to haul himself along. Pain shot through his rebuilt foot, sharp as rusted wire, fighting every tilt of the unsteady deck. Next to him, Axiom waited - whole again. Where shadows once flickered weakly, now a dense storm hummed across the lynx's frame, alive with power siphoned from humming machines.
Outside the cell, red emergency lights began flashing down the hall, painting stretched shapes like blood across the floor through the open metal bars.
"Elian," Vance commanded, his voice slicing cleanly through the panicked cries of the other captives. He locked eyes with the terrified sixteen-year-old mechanic. "Stay exactly three paces behind the beast. If you run, you die. If you scream, you die. We are walking out of this section before the Cartel engineers reset the breakers."
A hush wrapped around Vance the moment he left the cage behind. Red light bled across the tight passage, low and pulsing. Not even a whisper of engine noise lingered in the walls - just stillness, thick like dust after collapse. One long pull of air filled his lungs, slow, deliberate. Movement began - not rushed, but certain - as the maze ahead waited, leading upward, always upward, where small ships sat empty, ready.
A sudden chill gripped the hallway before his foot even lifted again.
Frost cracked into being across the walls, sudden and sharp. Moisture in the stale air turned solid without warning, wrapping metal surfaces and ceiling lamps alike in ragged ice. His breathing showed itself plainly - each exhale spilling forward like smoke.
A sharp chill rose from the nape of his neck, sudden and fierce enough to drop him. His legs gave way without warning.
A low hum slipped into the hallways, smooth like silk but cold as space. From the Dreadnought's speakers came not shouting, yet a quiet tune - too gentle for war. The Argent Cartel guards stayed silent; their usual sharp orders gone. In their place floated a voice, womanlike, almost sweet, filling every corridor with eerie calm. Sound bounced without echo, precise and wrong in its perfection.
"I told you the cage would not hold, little thief," Elena Rostova's voice whispered through the static, completely bypassing the ship's encrypted frequencies. "Look out the window."
Through numb fingers and slow breaths, Vance approached a thin window built into the thick door of an old service chamber. Cold pressed hard against him as he shifted forward, planting his frame on the icy surface. Outside, the sky hung low - smudged, restless, split by storms that never left.
High above the ground, they moved fast through thin air. Still, matching speed with the huge metal side of the Argent Dreadnought came a tight knot of warped gravity. Inside that twist, hanging without effort in icy heights, floated a white figure - six giant wings made of dark mist stretched behind her. She did not stay below. Out she climbed into open sky, reaching for what was taken.