The Steam Core roared with the mechanical indignation of a dying god. High-pressure vents saturated the air with scalding vapor, turning the narrow brass walkways into a labyrinth of translucent silver curtains. Condensation trickled down the rusted cooling towers to mix with the fine mercury dust coating every surface. This was a place of industrial noise and thermal chaos, a world where the laws of the surface were muffled by the rhythmic throb of ancient pumps.
Captain Kaelen stood at the threshold of the primary junction. His violet eyes glowed with an intensity that pierced the steam. Through his Analytical Sight, the world was not a barrier of fog but a complex web of mana-vectors, thermal gradients, and skeletal stress points. He observed the flickering Event Horizon twenty yards ahead. The sphere of darkness trembled as if it were on the verge of total collapse.
