Levan did not say goodbye to anyone.
Not to Romo, not to any of those standing by.
He left the plaza with quiet frustration.
The path from the Clock Square to the side corridor felt longer than it should have. Every step he took echoed back at him, as if the world itself hesitated to let him go.
At the corner, two men stood waiting, wearing plain gray cloaks without insignias.
One of them stepped forward and said coldly: "You're the one we're here for. The Sixth Order is waiting." There were no questions, no explanations. Levan simply walked behind them.
The corridor that led them out of Clock Square was unfamiliar.
Its walls were covered with dark metal sheets, scarred by repetitive circular marks as if something had clawed at them.
Halfway down, there was a small iron door, bearing a carved number: B-12.
The other man said:
"Your journey begins here." He opened the door.
Beyond it was another passage longer, narrower, colder.
Faint lamps hung from the ceiling, flickering weakly.
At the end, a metal gate slid open by itself before they even reached it.
Outside the gate, a black armored vehicle waited no horses, just a closed machine, resembling military transports from the world before the catastrophe. They climbed in.
Levan sat in the rear bench, designed for transporting soldiers, while one of the men sat next to him a tall, broad-shouldered man with a stern face and distant, unreadable eyes.
As soon as the metal door closed, the vehicle moved. There was no loud engine roar, no harsh rattling just a smooth, silent ride. Finally, the man broke the silence and said:
"The Sixth Order is far away. It'll take a full day to reach it." Levan didn't reply but gave a slight nod. Minutes passed in silence. The world outside the narrow window shifted slowly: barren lands, old craters, scattered ruins of once-proud buildings. The man gestured toward the right where collapsed structures loomed:
"See those remnants?"
"They used to be tall homes skyscrapers. Now no one dares live there." Levan widened his eyes, trying to distinguish the massive stone skeletons. He couldn't grasp the idea of homes reaching for the skies. The man continued, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret:
"One of the scholars said… before the First Catastrophe, the world wasn't like this.
There were planes flying in the skies, submarines swimming in the oceans, and cities that reached the clouds."
Levan froze.
The words struck him like a wave of impossibility.
He lifted his head and whispered: "Planes...? Submarines...?"
He had never heard these words before.
His entire world was dirt paths, wooden huts, and dusty air. After a pause, he asked instinctively: "What's... a submarine?"
The man glanced at him — the first spark of interest in his foggy eyes.
He replied slowly: "A submarine... was a massive iron ship that dived beneath the seas, moving through the deep like a giant fish."
Levan's eyes widened further.
It sounded like a fantasy.
He muttered to himself:
"Iron... floating underwater... without sinking?" The man finally smiled a small, barely-there smile: "Yes. They built miracles." "Until the day those miracles broke their own laws... and turned into disasters." He fell silent again, his gaze returning to the barren horizon.
Meanwhile, Levan kept staring through the window, trying to imagine cities touching the clouds and iron fish swimming in the depths…
A world too distant, too lost to ever be real.
After twenty hours of travel, the companion finally spoke in a low voice:
"We're close. What you see ahead... is the Sixth Order's Wall."
Levan raised his head, peering through the small window.
Before them stretched a towering wall, nearly twenty meters high.
It was built from a black metal that absorbed light, radiating a sense of indestructible strength.
The vehicle stopped in front of a massive gate at the center of the wall, bearing the insignia of the Sixth Order: a black circle with a white dot in the center, surrounded by three thin, slowly revolving rings.
The gate opened slowly.
They entered.
As soon as they passed through, a new world unfolded before Levan's eyes — unlike anything he had seen back in his village.
The ground was paved with polished gray stone, thin channels running quietly with clear water, perhaps for purification or cooling.
Buildings inside the wall were moderate in height, ranging between three and five floors.
The walls were gray-blue, some covered with dark wooden panels, others bearing clear signs of old repairs.
Windows were small and square; doors were thick, made of reinforced wood or metal.
Movement was quiet.
People walked across the stone-paved pathways, wearing gray jackets and practical trousers, their motions calm, efficient.
No noisy carts, no cluttered streets.
Only wide walkways and the occasional small, hand-pulled carts for transporting equipment.
In one nearby corner, four children sat on a low stone platform, studying old wooden boards engraved with tiny symbols.
One of them was examining a small metallic piece with focused eyes.
The lighting came from crystal lamps fixed atop stone pillars, emitting a faint greenish-white glow a subtle, strange energy that Levan couldn't understand.
He stared quietly.
He didn't speak but he felt the difference deeply. The place was orderly.
Clean. Disciplined. Nothing like the chaotic, open life he had known in his village. The man noticed Levan's expression and gave a faint smile: "First time seeing a place like this?" Levan nodded slightly without speaking. The man continued, waving his hand around:
"Inside the Orders' domains, life is different."
"Here, we try to rebuild the knowledge lost after the First Catastrophe."
"The Sixth Order specializes in research and technology not just combat."
He paused, then said in an even quieter tone:
"The Commander of the Sixth Order... he's a rare man."
"One of the first to understand the nature of the Abyss, and how the world itself changed."
"They say he knows things about the Second Catastrophe... things he never told anyone."
Levan kept looking through the window,
his mind overflowing with questions he didn't dare ask yet:
What was truly lost in the old world?
Why does life seem better here?
Who exactly was this, Commander?
He felt, unmistakably, that the doors opening before him were far larger and darker than he had ever imagined. The companion continued, as they approached a massive building: "The Sixth Order doesn't fix the world... It remembers what it once was."
At the end of the road, the main building appeared. It wasn't a palace it was a massive fortress-like structure, surrounded by another inner wall. The base was square, but it rose into a slanted, cylindrical tower, resembling an ancient observation tower.
At the top, the insignia of the Sixth Order glowed faintly: a black circle containing a white dot, surrounded by three thin rings rotating slowly. At the gate, the companion stopped and said: "From here... everything begins." The door opened silently, and Levan was ushered inside alone.