The Sentinel

The scholar's shack trembled as the Aetherium reactor beneath us pulsed like a heartbeat. My bracelet burned against my wrist, its golden gears spinning wildly as the scholar's tools whirred and sparked.

"Hold still," he muttered, his goggles reflecting the reactor's violet glow. "This isn't exactly… *standard* tinkering."

Lira hovered by the door, her pistol drawn and her mechanical eye scanning the shadows. "If you fry his bracelet, old man, I'll feed you to the Inquisitors myself."

The scholar chuckled, a sound like grinding gears. "You think I'd risk angering the girl with the Aetherium pistol? Please. I've survived two wars and three Church purges. I know when to tread lightly."

I winced as he pried open a hidden compartment in the bracelet. Inside, a lattice of glowing filaments pulsed in time with the reactor.

"Your parents didn't just *find* this," he said, his voice softening. "They *built* it. A conduit for Aetherium energy. But it's incomplete. Like a lock missing its key."

"What key?" I asked, my voice tight.

He didn't answer. Instead, he pressed a vial of shimmering black powder—raw Aetherium—into the bracelet's core. The filaments flared, and my vision blurred.

Suddenly, I wasn't in the shack.

I stood in a cavernous chamber, its walls lined with towering machines. A figure in a tattered coat knelt before a glowing core, their hands trembling as they etched symbols into the metal.

*Elias Veyren.* My ancestor.

"The Aetherium is alive," he whispered, his voice echoing in my mind. "It dreams. It hungers. And it will consume us all if we let it."

The vision shattered, and I stumbled back, gasping.

"What did you see?" Lira demanded, her grip tightening on her pistol.

"The vault," I said, my voice hoarse. "And the core. It's… *aware*."

The scholar nodded, his expression grim. "The Church didn't bury the Aetherium to protect us. They buried it to protect *themselves*. But now, thanks to your little stunt, they know you're coming."

---

**Chapter 5b: The Iron Cathedral**

The cathedral loomed ahead, its spires clawing at the smog-choked sky. Lira and I crouched in the shadow of a crumbling clock tower, the scholar's modifications to my bracelet humming faintly.

"The vault's entrance is beneath the altar," Lira whispered, her breath fogging in the cold night air. "Guarded by automatons and traps. But with your bracelet, we can bypass them."

"And if we can't?" I asked, my stomach churning.

She smirked. "Then we improvise."

We slipped through the cathedral's side door, the air thick with incense and the faint hum of machinery. The altar was a massive slab of black stone, its surface etched with spiraling symbols that matched those on my bracelet.

"Here," Lira said, pressing a hand to the stone. "Your turn."

I hesitated, the scholar's warning echoing in my mind. *The Aetherium is alive. It dreams. It hungers.*

But there was no turning back.

I pressed my bracelet to the altar. The symbols flared, and the stone groaned as it slid aside, revealing a staircase descending into darkness.

The air grew colder as we descended, the walls lined with pipes that hissed and rattled. At the bottom, a massive steel door loomed, its surface covered in gears and glowing runes.

"This is it," Lira breathed. "The vault."

I reached for the door, but a voice stopped me.

"Step away from the door, heretics."

We turned to see a figure step from the shadows—a priest in black robes, his face obscured by a respirator. Behind him, a dozen Inquisitors leveled flamethrowers, their fuel tanks glowing Aetherium-blue.

"You think you're the first to try this?" the priest sneered. "The vault is a *cage*. And you're about to meet what's inside."

---

**Chapter 5c: The Sentinel**

The Inquisitors advanced, their flamethrowers hissing. Lira fired her pistol, the Aetherium round vaporizing one of the flamethrowers in a burst of violet light.

"Jace, the door!" she shouted.

I slammed my bracelet against the vault door. The runes flared, and the gears began to turn.

"Stop him!" the priest roared.

A flamethrower roared, and I dove aside as a jet of blue fire scorched the wall. The heat seared my skin, but I scrambled to my feet and pressed the bracelet to the door again.

The gears ground to a halt.

"No," I whispered. "No, no, no—"

The priest laughed. "The vault only opens for *worthy* blood. And yours… isn't enough."

But then the door shuddered. The gears reversed, and the runes burned brighter.

"What's happening?" Lira demanded, her voice tinged with panic.

The bracelet pulsed, and I felt a pull—a *presence*—from beyond the door.

"It's not me," I said, my voice trembling. "It's *her*."

The door exploded inward, and a wave of cold air rushed out. Standing in the doorway was a figure—a woman made of shimmering black metal, her eyes glowing Aetherium-violet.

"Jace Veyren," she said, her voice echoing like a chorus. "I've been waiting for you."