polaris_wrld

In a fractured, steam-choked world haunted by a forgotten war, orphaned tinkerer Jace wields a mysterious bracelet that reveals hidden flaws in machinery—a gift from parents executed for heresy. When Lira, a cunning noble from a rival kingdom, recruits him to steal 'Aetherium', a volatile energy source the Church buried centuries ago, they uncover chilling truths: the Aetherium is alive, Jace’s bloodline is key to controlling it, and the Church plans to reignite a cataclysmic war. Torn between destroying the power that could save his world or wielding it at a terrible cost, Jace must outwit zealous Inquisitors, navigate Lira’s dangerous ambitions, and confront a legacy that binds him to a sentient vault hungering for freedom.  

*Steampunk intrigue meets dark fantasy* in a tale of forbidden power, fragile alliances, and the ghosts of progress.

The  Godless Gear

The jungle doesn't trust Kaelis.

I can tell by the way the vines curl away from their golden-lit footsteps, how the bioluminescent fungi dim as they pass. Even the humidity seems to thicken around them, like the air itself is holding its breath. But Lira? She trusts them even less.

"This is a mistake," she mutters, her dagger still clutched tight as we follow Kaelis through the undergrowth. The mechanical insect—*a "scout-drone,"* they called it—hovers at my shoulder, its wings humming like a wasp's. "We should've left you to rot in that river."

I don't argue. My arm still throbs where the Aetherium gauntlet fused to my skin, its violet veins pulsing in time with my heartbeat. It's quieter now, though. Almost… *curious*.

Kaelis stops abruptly, pressing a glowing hand to the trunk of a massive ironwood tree. Symbols ignite under their touch—ancient, angular runes that match the ones on my gauntlet. The ground shudders, and a doorway grinds open in the tree's base, revealing a staircase spiraling into darkness.

"Welcome," Kaelis says, their voice echoing, "to the Sanctum of the Veiled Hand."

The air inside is cool and smells of ozone. Glowing golden orbs float lazily along the walls, revealing a cavernous chamber carved into the earth. War-era machines line the room—tall, humanoid automatons with hollow eyes, their metal skeletons overgrown with roots. In the center, a massive Aetherium core pulses faintly, its light filtered through a lattice of vines.

"Home," Kaelis says, sweeping off their bark-weave cloak. Beneath it, their body is a patchwork of flesh and gold-lit machinery, their left arm entirely mechanical. "Or what's left of it."

Lira lingers by the entrance, her mechanical eye scanning for threats. "You're one of them. The Veiled Hand. The Church wiped you out a century ago."

"Wiped out?" Kaelis laughs, a sound like rusted gears. "No. We *hid*. As you will now." Their golden gaze lands on me. "The gauntlet has chosen you, Jace Veyren. But choice is not control. You will learn the difference."

They gesture to the core. "Touch it."

I hesitate. The gauntlet thrums, its claws twitching.

"Do it," Lira snaps, though I can't tell if she's urging me or threatening Kaelis.

I press the gauntlet to the core.

*Fire. Screams. A city of glass and steel crumbling under a sky choked with Aetherium storms. A figure stands atop a spire, their arm raised—a gauntlet like mine, but crackling with golden light. They roar, and the storm obeys.*

*Whispers. Hundreds of voices, overlapping:*

I jerk back, gasping. The core's light fades, and the gauntlet goes dormant, its veins dim.

Kaelis watches me, unreadable. "What did you see?"

"Destruction," I say, my voice raw. "And someone… someone like you. With a gauntlet."

For the first time, Kaelis's calm cracks. Their mechanical fingers twitch. "My predecessor. The last Catalyst." They turn away. "Rest. Tomorrow, your training begins."

Lira waits until Kaelis disappears into a side tunnel before grabbing my arm. "They're using you. Whatever that thing showed you—it's a lie."

But the gauntlet warms at her touch, and I wonder if she's wrong.

The Whispering Gauntlet