Ironvale wasn't built for humans.
It was built for machines.
The air here never really moved. It hung thick and metallic, heavy with the taste of rust. Towers of smoke rose from the horizon, black against a blood-red sunrise. You could hear the forges before you even saw them — that constant heartbeat of hammer on steel, echoing through the valley like a warning.
Cass tugged his scarf higher over his nose. "Smells like someone cooked the air."
Lynx's tails flicked, her nose wrinkling. "That's molten mana. They're smelting it right into the ore."
"Can they even do that?" Cass asked.
"They can," Rowan said, "but they shouldn't."
He stood at the cliff's edge, coat flapping in the wind. Below, Ironvale sprawled — a labyrinth of factories, cranes, and rusted tracks. Every building bled steam. Railcars creaked down slopes, carrying carts of glowing blue ore that pulsed like veins under the earth.
Mira joined him, squinting through the haze. "Looks more like a graveyard than a city."
"It is," Rowan said quietly. "They're mining what's left of the world's mana veins. When they're gone, so's the frontier."
Cass whistled low. "So this Veyr guy's not just rich. He's killing the planet and getting paid for it."
"Pretty much," Mira muttered. "Typical noble."
---
They reached the outskirts by dusk — a narrow trade road cutting through the hills. A patrol rolled by: five guards in iron masks, hauling a cart full of half-conscious miners. Each miner had a collar glowing faintly blue.
Cass's jaw tightened. "Slaves."
Rowan's expression didn't change, but his hand brushed against the revolver at his hip. "No sudden moves. We need information first."
When the patrol passed, Lynx crept forward, sniffing the tracks. "Those collars… they're mana regulators. Draining them slowly."
Mira looked sick. "They're using people as conduits."
Rowan nodded grimly. "Veyr's found a way to keep the mines running even after the mana veins dried. He's using living mana channels."
Cass rubbed his temples. "So that's why the air feels like death."
---
They made camp on the ridge that night. No fire — the smoke would give them away. The stars above were faint, almost hidden behind the haze.
Cass sat sharpening his knife. "So what's the plan? Sneak in, break some collars, blow up the foundry, make Veyr cry?"
Rowan gave him a side glance. "Close."
"Which part?"
"The part where we make him cry."
Cass snorted. "Knew it."
Mira spread a rough map on the ground. "There's an old rail line that cuts through the lower quarter. It's probably abandoned, but if we follow it, it should take us close to Veyr's main forge."
Rowan studied it, tracing the route with his gloved hand. "And if we get spotted?"
Mira's lips curved. "Then Cass gets to test his explosives."
Cass grinned. "Finally, some respect around here."
---
As they descended into Ironvale the next day, the true horror of the place came into view.
Children worked in the lower shafts, their hands blistered, eyes dull. Iron overseers watched from catwalks, holding whips crackling with static. The sound of the forges was deafening — each strike of the hammer echoing like thunder through bone.
Mira clenched her fists. "How can people live like this?"
"They don't," Rowan said softly. "They just keep breathing."
A horn blared somewhere in the distance. The shift changed. One of the miners stumbled, collapsing in the dust — and the collar around his neck flared bright blue. In an instant, his body went still, drained of color, of life.
Cass cursed under his breath. "He just— they just—"
Rowan's eyes burned cold. "Veyr's system kills the weak to fuel the strong."
He turned away, voice steady but hollow. "Tonight, we break it."
---
They moved at midnight.
Ironvale slept lightly — guards patrolling the rails, spotlights sweeping across smokestacks. The team slipped through the tunnels, guided by Lynx's keen senses and Mira's sharp memory.
When they reached the central forge, the heat was unbearable. Lava-bright mana flowed through pipes like veins, pulsing to the rhythm of the machines. And there — at the heart of it — stood the core: a massive crystal suspended over molten metal.
"Holy hell," Cass whispered. "That's not a forge. That's a heart."
Rowan's pulse synced with it — the Loki crystal inside his chest flickered in response. He staggered, gripping the railing.
"Rowan!" Mira caught his arm.
He gasped, the glow beneath his skin flaring. "It's reacting. The divine energy here… it's alive."
From the shadows, a voice rumbled.
"Of course it is."
They turned — and there stood Lord Veyr, massive, half-armored, his left arm mechanical from shoulder to claw. His eyes gleamed like molten gold.
"I've been expecting you," he said, smiling too wide. "The heretic with godfire in his veins."
Cass muttered, "Oh, great. He's one of those villains."
Veyr ignored him. He stepped closer, each footstep like a hammer on stone. "Selara's fall cost me dearly. But your gift, outlaw — your power could rebuild everything she lost."
Rowan straightened, steady despite the tremor in his hands. "Not interested."
Veyr chuckled. "You think you have a choice?"
He raised his clawed hand — and the forge roared to life. Chains of molten metal snapped from the walls, twisting toward Rowan like serpents.
Mira's blade flashed, cutting one apart. Cass hurled a grenade that exploded in a burst of blue flame. Lynx leapt, tails glowing as she slammed Veyr back with a wave of energy.
The ground shook. Cracks spread through the floor, and mana spilled like liquid fire.
Veyr bellowed, catching Rowan by the throat with his claw. "You carry divinity, boy! You should be worshiped, not wasted!"
Rowan's eyes blazed white-blue. "Then kneel."
He unleashed it — pure divine surge, searing through the forge. The crystal above them shattered, raining shards of light.
Veyr screamed as his mechanical arm melted into slag. The machines howled, tearing themselves apart.
When it was over, the entire forge was collapsing.
Mira grabbed Rowan, hauling him toward the exit. "Come on!"
They stumbled into the night, the factory burning behind them. The sky glowed red, and the wind carried the smell of scorched iron and freedom.
Cass looked back, panting. "Guess we just put Ironvale out of business."
Rowan stared into the flames. "No," he said quietly. "We just started a war."