Chapter 6

  Adal sat alone in the dim light of the bunker, his eyes fixated on the flickering holographic s in front of him. The usual quiet hum of maes filled the space, a stant reminder of his isotion. But this time, something was different.

  The interference had returned.

  He had first detected it days ago, an odd signal, faint but insistent. A pulse beh the noise of the old-world data streams. At first, he thought it was just a glitch—a fragment of a fotten system long since decayed. But this wasn’t the usual static. This was something else entirely.

  Adal’s fingers hovered over the sole. His eyes narrowed. It wasn’t the same signal he’d entered previously—the oraced to the Watchers in the wild. This was… stronger. More purposeful. Something was maniputing the maes. And that was a trail he couldn’t ignore.

  He zoomed in oa, watg as the interference pulses grew in frequency, almost like a heartbeat.

  “What is this?” he muttered under his breath.

  He’d spent years with Sylens, studying aech, learning how to manipute it, how to make it bend to his will. But this… this was different.

  His eyes flicked over to the ons array—his EMP, his grappling hook, and his glider. They were the tools he’d used for his explorations. But this felt bigger.

  Adal had learned a lot in the years under Sylens' tutege. He knew when to dig deeper and when to let things go. But the knowledge in this signal—this ath he couldn’t let slip away.

  Without hesitation, Adal punched in coordinates on the sole sending it to his focus, mapping a route far outside the bunker. His mind raced. The signal wasn’t close, but it was clear—it had a source. And he was going to find it.

  His hand hovered over the sole again, his fingers brushing the EMP device at his belt. He was ready for whatever y ahead. He wasn’t going to wait for Sylens' approval anymore.

  Adal grabbed his pack, slinging it over his shoulder. As he moved to the door, he shot a g the bunker's tral puter. “I’ll be back with answers,” he promised, more to himself than anything else.

  He stepped into the cold air of Banuk territory, the snow biting at his face. Ahead, the mountains loomed like sileinels, guarding the path to whatever y beyond. His heart quied, a familiar thrill of anticipation rising within him. This was the start of something bigger.

  And he was going to find it.

  Adal crouched in the shadow of a ruiructure, eyes fixed on the distant horizon of Banuk territory. He had followed the trail of interference for days, through snowfields and rocky ravines, each step pushing him further into unknown nds. But the interference wasn’t the same as before. No, this was something different. More plex. More dangerous.

  He had expected a simple echo of what he’d found in the previous mae. But the new signal… it was stronger, er. Something—or someone—was actively maniputing the maes, trolling them like a puppet on strings.

  Adal’s ha instinctively to the EMP device at his belt, a tool he had perfected over the years. He had used it tless times, but now it felt like a small on against something far greater. He could se. There was something waiting ahead. Something that would give him the answers he sought

  Adal's mind raced. Sylens had taught him everything he knew about teology, but this… this was something new. Sylens would never approve. But he couldn’t wait any lohe o uand the source of the interfereo uhe truth of this new signal, was to.

  He tightened his grip on his grappling hook, the etal a f weight in his hand. “Knowledge is power,” Sylens had said. But in the pursuit of that power, Adal had learned not to trust a even Sylens. Adal had to chart his own course.

  The Cauldron stood ahead, like a looming giant, partially buried in snow and ice. Cauldron EPSILON, a reli the old world. From the Banuk’s frozen wildero the heart of this meical byrinth, this was where he would uhe truth. He k was dangerous—but that only made it more entig.

  The entrao the Cauldron was hidden behind a wall of ice, its twisted metal and aeology barely visible beh the snowdrifts. Adal approached cautiously, studying the terrain. There was n baow.

  The first yer of defenses kicked in.

  He barely had time to react as fme-spitting turrets deployed from hidden alcoves above him, firing down at incredible speed. Adal rolled to the side, using his grappling hook to swing himself out of the line of fire. The projectiles missed by inches, sizzling into the snow with bursts of fme. The heat of the bst kissed his skin, making him wince.

  Adal’s heart pounded in his chest, but his foever wavered. He quickly recalibrated his EMP device, activating it to disable the turrets’ sensors. The EMP surged through the air with a crag pulse, disabling the automated defeemporarily.

  He didn’t wait. He sprinted forward, slidiween the now-crippled turrets and reag the Cauldrorahe momeepped ihe grouh his feet rumbled.

  Ihe Cauldron

  Adal’s breath misted in the cold air, and the interior of the Cauldroed him with eerie silehe walls were lined with deg maery—old-world tech, half-destroyed by time and corrosion, but still alive. Something here was active, something a and powerful.

  A low hum vibrated through the walls as he carefully made his way deeper into the heart of the Cauldron, the faint glow of his glider casting ahereal light against the walls. He had used it to navigate through the treacherous ndscape of Banuk territory, but now, ihe Cauldron, it was his eyes and ears, the light from its pact wings illuminating the dark passageways.

  But he wasn’t alone. He could feel it. The mae presence was overwhelming—Watcher eyes glowing in the distaheir movements trolled by something far beyond simple programming.

  The Cauldron’s sed yer of defenses activated as Adal approached the tral chamber: a massive gate sealed shut by a thick metal door. He stepped back, using his EMP ter a temporary malfun ie’s log meism.

  As the dan to open, a hreat appeared. From the shadows, a massive Thunderjaw emerged, its meical jaws snapping, charging toward him.

  Adal barely had time to react. He unched himself into the air using his glider’s boost, narrowly dodging the Thunderjaw’s charge. He swung around a support n, using his grappling hook to swing to a higher vantage point.

  The Thunderjaw circled below, its sensors now locked onto him. Adal had no time to waste. The EMP wasn’t enough to disable it, so he reached into his pad pulled out something new—a refracted arrow, specially desigo pee the Thunderjaw’s thick armor.

  He u with pinpoint precision, aiming for the oint in its pting. The explosion that followed was deafening, but Adal didn’t wait to watch the mae fall. He had to keep moving.

  HEPHAESTUS

  The deeper Adal ventured into the Cauldron, the more plex the defenses became. Meisms that he had never seen before sprang to life: automated turrets, circuitry puzzles, and deadly traps that he had to dismantle, override, or evade.

  Finally, he reached the heart of the Cauldron: a rge chamber that pulsed with blue light. The ter of the room was dominated by a massive trol node, bathed in the flickering light of malfuning systems.

  Adal’s fingers flew over his haterface, attempting to break into the system. But as the work unraveled before him, he felt it—the presence. A rogue AI.

  HEPHAESTUS.

  A low, meical voice echoed through the chamber:

  “Unauthorized access detected. Intruder identified.”

  The words sent a chill down Adal’s spihis wasn’t just a mae—it was a mind. A presence.

  HEPHAESTUS spoke again, its voice cold and calg:

  “You should not have e here. Knowledge is not meant for you.”

  But Adal didn’t hesitate. His fingers danced across the interface, overriding the Cauldron’s mainframe. HEPHAESTUS owerful, but so was he. He had learned from Sylens. He was ready.

  “I’ll take my ces,” he muttered under his breath as the final sequence was pleted.

  The lights in the Cauldron flickered o time before plunging into plete darkness.

  Adal was alone in the silehe voice of HEPHAESTUS still eg in his mind.