"Its core component is the Flux Inductor Array—that spiral-etched copper layer you see. It concentrates and regulates the energy pulse emitted from the crystal before it's channeled through the underfloor cables to the generator station."
Zephyr glanced down at the floor, where thick metal pathways forked like roots sinking into stone. "That?" he asked.
Lhira nodded. "That's the Conduit Rail. Inside: wave-pipes transporting ionized pulses directly to the Vazhryl Generator Tower, south building. Distance: two hundred meters. Travel time?" She snapped her fingers. "Less than a fraction of a second."
She began tuning a nearby console—a cluster of phosphor-glass keys that glowed soft green beneath her fingertips.
"This panel is the NeuroRelay Interface. It's the machine's brain—its control system based on synthetic optic nerves."
Zephyr frowned. "Optic nerves?"
"Not your eyes," she replied with a crooked smile, "but the way the system reads 'light intensity impulses' from the crystal. We call it 'Neuro-optic Threading.' In short: the Stabilitor reads the crystal's living pulse, and modulates its rune structure in real time."
She pulled a brass lever with a mechanical CLANK.
Above them, a transparent chamber lit up, and from a rail system overhead, a crimson-red crystal slid into place like a loaded bullet.
"This is the Intaglio Chamber—where crystals are socketed. Its interior is lined with a Runic Resonance Lattice—basically, a pattern matrix that forces the crystal into sync with the factory's energy architecture. If the sync fails… boom." Her smirk widened. "One hell of an explosion."
Zephyr stepped closer, a chill creeping across his skin. The heat wasn't what unnerved him—it was the realization that these machines weren't just machines.
They were alive.
Lhira moved again, this time brushing her fingers across translucent cables pulsing with blue light.
"These… are Pulse Veins. Where stabilized energy flows. They branch into three main channels: heating, lighting, and the city's security grid."
She stood tall, lifting her head to meet Zephyr's gaze. Her dark goggles now dangled at her collar, but her eyes still burned with that same flint-hard certainty.
"Your work here isn't just slotting crystals. It's ensuring the city's lifeblood keeps flowing. And if you're one of the gifted few…" she tapped her temple, "these machines will speak to you."
Zephyr stared at the Stabilitor. Its rhythmic pulsing no longer sounded like machinery.
It sounded like a heartbeat.
Lhira leaned closer to Zephyr, a stripe of yellow lamp light reflecting off the lenses of her steam goggles. Her face was beautiful, even though it was smeared with oil and shadowed with fatigue. Her hazel eyes radiated firmness.
"See that line?" She pointed at the copper-clad conduit running across the floor and turning out through the wall. "That connects the Stabilitor with the crystal reaction chamber on the east side. Raw energy from there can't be sent straight to the city—too wild, too hot."
Zephyr nodded, following the conduit with his eyes.
"Our job is to smooth it out. To stabilize the flux before it enters the distribution towers of Akar Vazhryl. That's why there's more than one Stabilitor—six main units, two backups. Think of them as the machine's lungs: filtering, balancing, channeling with a steady rhythm."
"And your role?" Zephyr asked, eyes narrowing.
Lhira gave a thin smile. She tapped the metal plate on the side of her helmet, where a pair of circular lenses glowed faintly. "I'm the optic nerve manager. Technical term for the vision system supervisor—cameras, spectral sensors, and resonance monitors. I see what others can't—fluctuations, imbalances, the chance of explosions. And if I fail… we all become glowing dust."
Zephyr swallowed. "No pressure, huh."
"Just enough to make your heart learn to beat in sync with the machine," Lhira shot back, turning away, her coat flaring like a banner in a desert storm.
Boot steps struck the metal floor like carefully arranged clock ticks. Thin mist leaked from pipe seams above, filling the air with a mixture of hot oil, ozone, and scorched copper. Dim arc bulbs flickered, casting shadows of the giant steam fans slowly spinning beneath the domed ceiling. At the center of the main hall, the largest Stabilitor stood, surrounded by steel rails and brass-layered safety barriers, as if worshipped by the surrounding structures.
Zephyr moved closer, his heart racing between hissing steam and mechanical rumble. There stood Lhira Dennias, her tousled golden-brown hair tucked under a double-lens optic headband, her goggles still glowing blue despite the bright light. Her gaze was sharp, not angry—focused.
"This Stabilitor," she said, her voice competing with the hiss of pressure valves, "is a Mk-IV variant, used for high-class crystal flux stabilization."
She pointed to a kind of cylindrical tower two stories tall, with magnetic rings hovering around its middle. "The main component here is the Flux Inductor Array—what you see as the spiral-engraved copper layers. Its job is to focus and regulate the energy emissions from the crystal before sending it through underground cables to the power station."
Zephyr looked down at the floor, where thick metal pathways branched into the ground. "That?" he asked.
Lhira nodded. "That's the Conduit Rail. Inside are wave pipes that carry energy in ionic pulses—straight to the Vazhryl Power Tower in the southern building. The distance? Two hundred meters from here. But the energy arrives in less than a fraction of a second."
She fiddled with a small console on the side of the machine. Its phosphor glass keys glowed softly under her fingertips. "This panel is the NeuroRelay Interface. This is the machine's brain—a control system based on synthetic optic nerves."
Zephyr frowned. "Optic nerves?"
"Not your eyes," Lhira replied with a thin smile. "But the way the system reads 'light intensity impulses' from the crystal. We call it 'Neuro-optic Threading.' In short, the Stabilitor reads the 'living pulse' of the crystal and adjusts its rune modulation in real-time."
She pulled a brass lever that triggered a loud click. Above, a transparent chamber lit up from within—and from the rail above, a deep red crystal slid down, gleaming.
"This is the Chamber Intaglio—where the crystal is installed. Its walls are lined with the Runic Resonance Lattice, rune patterns that force the crystal to sync with the plant's energy structure. If sync fails... boom," she gave a small grin, "and it's not a pretty explosion."
Zephyr stepped closer. Cold sweat dripped from his temple, not from heat, but from the realization that this wasn't just a machine—this was the city's living body.
Lhira continued, her hand brushing the transparent cables pulsing with blue light. "And this... the Pulse Vein. This is where the stabilized energy flows out. It branches into three main routes: heating, lighting, and the city's security system."
She stood up, looking at Zephyr through the dark goggles hanging at her neck. "Your job here isn't just to install crystals. It's to make sure the city's lifeline never stops. And if you're one of the 'gifted'... this machine will answer you."
Zephyr stared at the Stabilitor. Its rhythmic thumping now felt more like a heartbeat.
Arin chuckled. "Give him a chance, Lhira. He's strong, and I think his intuition will be very useful."
Lhira snorted. "Intuition won't keep this machine spinning steady if the crystal is installed wrong, Arin. Or if the runes are misaligned. This machine isn't a toy." She refocused on the Stabilitor's panel. "Listen, Zephyr. Your job is to install crystals. Sounds simple, but it's not. Each crystal has its own energy frequency. You have to make sure the right crystal goes in the right slot."
"And don't even think about messing up the runes," she added, pointing at the rune plate Arin had shown Zephyr before. "That rune is the key. Even a small mistake, and not only will this machine explode, but half this district could lose power. Or worse, it could disrupt the entire city's energy chain."
Zephyr swallowed hard. This was far more complicated than he had imagined.
"The crystals come from the storage, pre-processed," Lhira said. "Each crystal is coded. Make sure you match the code with the slot on the Stabilitor panel. And when you install it, you have to feel its flow. If there's even the slightest rejection, pull it out and try again. Never force it."
She handed him a crystal the size of a fist. "Now, try this. Panel number seven. Slot Alpha-3."
Zephyr took the crystal. Cold and smooth in his hand. He approached panel number seven, found the slot Lhira indicated. He inserted the crystal. Instantly, pain stabbed at his chest, a sharp pulse. The dark energy in his arm churned. The crystal flickered briefly, then dimmed.
"What are you doing?!" Lhira snapped, her voice cutting through the air. She glared at the crystal, then at Zephyr's face with fury. "I told you—feel it! That's rejection! You think this is a toy? What do you know about aligning energy?!"
Zephyr flinched back. He had never been scolded like this, especially not by a woman with such authority. "I... I don't know. I just..."
"Not knowing won't pay this city's power bill if you break the Stabilitor!" Lhira cut him off sharply. She snatched the crystal, flipped it, and reinserted it into the same slot, but with a different motion. The black orbs around Zephyr spun faster, reacting to the energy surge. Lhira closed her eyes for a moment, focusing. The crystal now glowed steadily.
Lhira's face gleamed under the soot-stained sodium lamp. Her dual goggles rested on her forehead, framing sharp eyes the color of morning dew—soft yet precise like clockwork. Her brown hair, tied high, framed her cheeks, streaked with soot and scratches from fieldwork. Her skin was naturally tanned from crystal vapor, contrasting with the gleaming metal of her right arm—a prosthetic full of ports, wires, and an auto-igniter. She looked like a living painting of war and purity.
Zephyr watched her from behind the safety valve. Lhira adjusted a rune panel alive with a faint blue pulse. Behind her, the main Stabilitor rumbled softly like a sleeping beast.
"So..." Lhira said without turning. Her voice was flat yet heavy, like someone who had explained this too many times to someone who never quite grasped it. "You want to know why this connection matters?"
Zephyr nodded. "I want to know why you call it 'optic nerve.'"
Lhira turned, one eyebrow raised. "Because that's exactly what it is."
She pointed to a clear tube as thick as a wrist, pulsing gently with bluish-purple crystal light. The tube stretched from the Stabilitor's floor base to the main rail on the ceiling, then snaked underground for two hundred meters toward the main power chamber.
"We call it the Optic Nerve because it's not just a connector cable. It transmits data, pressure, and ether resonance all at once—like how the human eye sends information to the brain. But instead of images, it's a stabilization pattern."
Zephyr stepped closer, studying the pulse.
"The core generator produces more than just power—it radiates resonance fluctuations from the active crystals. Without this optic nerve, the system here is completely blind. We can't adjust stabilization in real time."