The wreckage of the Jade Sky-Skiff rained down on the Smog District like flaming meteors.
Rylan stood on the warehouse roof, watching the fires burn in the distance. The air smelled of ozone and victory, but his stomach was tight. He hadn't just swatted a fly; he had kicked a hornet's nest.
"They are coming," Sylara said, her voice devoid of emotion. She was still gripping the brass railing, her eyes scanning the streets below. "Not the Jade Empire. The locals."
Rylan nodded. "Vargas."
"You fired a siege weapon inside a neutral city," Lyra said, climbing up the ladder, her face pale. "You violated the primary law of Iron-Tooth: Do not threaten the profits. You just declared that we have more firepower than the City Guard."
"We do," Rylan said.
He keyed his receiver.
"Mei, status?"
"Reloading," Mei's voice came back, shaky but efficient. "The capacitors are hot. I need five minutes to cool the Geode before we can fire again."
"You have three," Rylan said.
The ground began to shake.
It wasn't an earthquake. It was the rhythmic, synchronized marching of heavy weight.
From the main avenue leading to the Spire, a column of troops emerged. They weren't street thugs like the Gear-Grinders. These men wore full plate armor made of black iron, polished to a mirror sheen. They carried heavy tower shields and repeating crossbows.
And leading them were two massive, steam-powered Iron Golems, each standing twenty feet tall, their exhaust pipes belching black smoke.
The Iron-Blood Syndicate's personal army.
They didn't attack. They surrounded the warehouse block, setting up a perimeter with practiced efficiency. The Golems stopped directly in front of the main doors, their hydraulic cannons spooling up.
A single figure walked out from between the Golems.
Vargas.
He wasn't holding a fan this time. He was holding a white flag of parley. But his face was a mask of cold fury.
"Mr. Sterling!" Vargas shouted, his voice amplified by magic. "Come out. We need to discuss the unauthorized anti-air battery on your roof."
Rylan looked at Sylara. "Stay here. If the Golems move, aim for the joints."
He descended to the street level.
Toran opened the main door just enough for Rylan to slip out. Rylan walked into the street, alone, facing an army. His Imperial Aura was tight around his skin, a layer of invisible armor.
He stopped ten paces from Vargas.
"You brought friends," Rylan noted, nodding at the Golems.
"You shot down a Jade Empire vessel," Vargas hissed, stepping closer. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The Empire will demand reparations. They will demand blood."
"They sent a scout to detonate a bomb in your city," Rylan countered calmly. "I intercepted it. You should be thanking me."
"You possess a Class-A Siege Weapon!" Vargas roared, losing his composure. "That is a threat to the Spire. Lord Vane does not tolerate threats."
He gestured to the army.
"Surrender the weapon, Sterling. Surrender the Artificer. Surrender the Geode. And maybe—maybe—we let you live as a consultant."
Rylan smiled. It was the smile of a man holding a royal flush.
"No."
Vargas blinked. "Excuse me?"
"I said no."
Rylan pulled a small radio crystal from his pocket.
"Mei," Rylan said clearly. "Rotation 180. Elevation 15."
Inside the warehouse, gears ground loudly. On the roof, the massive barrel of the Thunder-Arc Ballista spun around. It lowered, pointing away from the sky.
It pointed directly at the white stone needle rising in the distance.
The Spire.
Vargas went pale.
"You wouldn't," Vargas whispered.
"That Geode is unstable," Rylan said, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly reasonable tone. "If I fire a solid iron bolt charged with that much lightning into the base of the Spire... the structural integrity fails. The whole tower comes down. The nobles. The auction house. Lord Vane. All of it."
"You would die too!" Vargas shouted. "The fallout would flatten this district!"
"I'm a refugee from the south, Vargas," Rylan lied. "I've lost everything once. I don't mind losing it again if I take you with me."
He stepped closer to the Auditor, until they were nose to nose.
"Mutually Assured Destruction. It's a powerful negotiating tool."
Vargas stared at him. He looked at the glowing purple barrel of the ballista aimed at his home. He looked at the madman standing in front of him.
He saw no bluff. He saw only the "King of Ashes."
Vargas swallowed hard. He raised his hand, signaling the Golems to stand down.
"What do you want?" Vargas asked, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.
"Immunity," Rylan listed. "I keep the weapon. I keep my people. And the Syndicate officially recognizes me as the 'Guardian of the Eastern Sector.'"
"Guardian?" Vargas scoffed. "You're a terrorist."
"The Jade Empire is coming," Rylan said, pointing to the burning wreckage in the distance. "That scout was just the beginning. When their war fleet arrives, your Golems won't be enough. You need surface-to-air defense. You need me."
Vargas paused. He hated it, but the logic was sound. The Jade Empire was a threat to everyone. Rylan was a dangerous dog, but he was currently biting the right leg.
"Fine," Vargas spat. "We grant you provisional status. But you fire that weapon only with Syndicate authorization. If that barrel turns toward the Spire again, we will drown you in bodies."
"Deal," Rylan said.
He keyed his radio. "Mei. Stand down. Cooling cycle."
The barrel hissed as steam vented, lowering slightly.
Vargas adjusted his robes, regaining his composure.
"You play a dangerous game, Sterling. Lord Vane will want to meet you eventually. And he is not as... pragmatic... as I am."
"I look forward to it," Rylan said.
Vargas turned and marched back to his lines. The Iron Golems turned around, their heavy steps shaking the pavement as the army retreated.
Rylan watched them go until they disappeared into the smog.
Only then did his legs give out.
He stumbled, catching himself on Toran's shoulder as the big man rushed out to support him.
"You threatened the Spire," Toran whispered, awestruck. "You held a gun to the head of God."
"It was a bluff," Rylan wheezed. "Mei told me the Geode was at 15% charge. We couldn't have cracked a window, let alone the foundation."
Toran stared at him. "You lied?"
"I negotiated," Rylan corrected.
He looked up at the roof, where Sylara was watching him. She gave a slow, respectful nod.
[Ding! Reputation Update.] [Title: "Guardian of the East" (Unofficial).] [Influence: Iron-Tooth City (Feared).] [Global Tension: War is imminent.]
Rylan straightened his robes.
"Close the doors," Rylan ordered. "We have a war to prepare for."
End of Chapter 54