“We’re under Lord Wyatt’s command.” The tall robot stepped back and pointed at the other two. “This one is Dorian, from the DorianKen Armory.”
Dorian raised his short pincer hand and gave a small wave.
“And this one is Minks, from St. Nite City.”
Minks lifted a hand in greeting.
“And I’m Eisen, from Konis City. We’re here on Lord Wyatt’s orders, with what you urgently need. Also—your ID code: NCB49E9W14L66…”
Eisen finished and waited in silence.
A few minutes passed…
“So we just stand here?” Minks whispered.
“Yes. She’ll come out,” Eisen said.
But after ten full minutes, nothing moved. Eisen frowned. Wyatt had been clear: once they stated who they were and gave the code, Janiel would come meet them.
“Maybe she isn’t at the monitor,” Dorian said.
“Or she doesn’t believe us,” Minks added.
Eisen thought for a moment, stepped closer to the camera probe, and repeated the message—this time more candid, almost deferential.
Then the three of them waited again.
A few more minutes ticked by. Janiel still hadn’t appeared… but a “mouse” suddenly scurried out from nowhere.
“Look! Pinecone’s back!” Minks shouted.
Pinecone sprang onto Minks’s shoulder, chattering and gesturing wildly.
“He found Janiel,” Minks translated. “But she’s got a little problem…”
All three scrambled up a dirt berm and looked ahead.
A wide swath of sand-and-stone—an entirely different color from the surrounding ground—stretched all the way to the base of a distant mountain. Huge broken slabs lay scattered across it, each one weighing hundreds of tons. Their edges were razor-sharp, freshly snapped.
“See that soil?” Minks said instantly. “It’s newly dumped.”
“And those rocks too,” Dorian added, pointing at the mountain. “They rolled down just now.”
“I get it.” Eisen’s optics widened. “That explosion did this. God… it reached this far?”
“Do you think Lord Wyatt’s okay?” Dorian asked.
“He should be,” Eisen said, but his tone wasn’t solid.
“He’ll be fine. He can fly.” Minks twisted off his forearm, pulled a shovel-like limb from his back, snapped it into place, and started down the slope. “Come on, boys. We’ve got work. Let’s dig our dear Miss Janiel a way out. I don’t want Wyatt showing up and finding the three of us staring at sand.”
“Agreed!” Dorian hurried after him.
“That doesn’t worry me,” Eisen muttered. “We’ve got a professional digger.” He headed back to the ground-effect bike to grab more tools.
…
They dug for a full twenty hours. When night fell again, they finally cleared the sand off the ship.
On the top hull they opened a crack—barely wide enough for one person. Through it was only black, an empty space that gave no clue what compartment it led into. Minks leaned in and listened.
“It’s quiet as a tomb,” he whispered.
“You really never quit,” Eisen snapped. Then he raised his voice toward the opening. “Captain Janiel! Can you hear me? We’ve opened a passage!”
He called several times. Only his own echo answered.
“Where’s Pinecone?” Eisen asked. “Ask him where he saw her.”
“Pinecone went back inside ages ago,” Minks said. “Still hasn’t come out.”
They waited again. Still nothing.
“Why don’t we just go down and look?” Dorian asked.
“Breaking in uninvited…” Eisen hesitated. “That isn’t polite.”
“Oh, put your gentleman act away,” Minks shot back. “It’s the apocalypse.” He slid down the sandy slope—
BANG.
A gunshot cracked, followed by the ring of metal.
“Ah—damn it! I got hit!” Minks yelled.
More shots. More pings.
Eisen jumped down and threw himself in front of Minks. Whoever was firing wasn’t a great shot—several rounds missed—but one still struck Eisen.
It was a Nether chassis. Ordinary bullets couldn’t do much. Following the direction of the rounds, Eisen caught a flicker of white behind cover.
“Don’t shoot!” Eisen shouted, raising both hands high. “Captain Janiel—we’re friendly!”
“Yeah! We’re here on Lord Wyatt’s orders!” Minks called.
“We brought you power!” Dorian added.
“Oh my god, I’m leaking oil…”
The gunfire stopped. A moment later, a woman’s voice came from the darkness.
“As far as I know, Wyatt came alone.”
“We’re his subordinates!”
“We joined him on the way!”
“It’s true—”
“Shut up,” the voice snapped. “Drop your weapons!”
Clang. Clang.
Shovels and tools hit the ground.
After a long beat, a woman stepped out from behind cover. She wore a white captain’s uniform, but her hair was a mess and grime streaked her face. She glanced at the tools on the floor, then at their straight-up hands. Some of the hostility drained from her posture.
“Where’s Wyatt?” she asked.
“He’ll be here soon,” Dorian said.
“Yes,” Eisen added. “He detoured to handle something extremely difficult—extremely important. But he should return any moment.”
“Still trying to lie to me.” The woman’s gaze snapped to the markings on their plating. “You’re all branded Plando.”
Then her eyes locked on Eisen. Even with his smaller frame, the silhouette was too familiar. Something deep in her expression tightened. She raised her gun again, and her grip trembled.
“I know you,” she said, voice shaking. “You butcher. Phantom Forge’s lapdog.”
“Please—don’t shoot. We’re not lying.”
“It’s a long story. Let us explain.”
“We’ve suffered under Phantom Forge too.”
The three spoke over each other in a frantic blur.
“How many of you’re there?” she barked.
“Three—no, four.”
“Where’s the other one? Bring it out!”
“I don’t know where it went,” Eisen said. “But you saw it last night.”
“This thing?”
The woman hauled a metal cage up from behind her cover. Inside, Pinecone gripped the bars and looked around, panicked.
“You mean this thing?!”
“Yes,” Eisen said carefully.
“That’s Pinecone,” Minks blurted. “We’re all good things—no, good people.”
“Talk.” The woman’s voice sharpened. “What are you plotting? Because if you don’t—”
She pulled out a blue-glowing cylinder and held it up for all of them to see.
“Recognize this? It’s made for robots like you.” She raised an EMP grenade and mimed pulling the pin. “One blast, and all of you drop.”
All three panicked at once.
“No—don’t—”
“Wait!” Minks shouted. “I’ll talk.” He steadied her hand with words, then couldn’t stop himself from adding, “Captain Janiel, I’ve seen plenty of Phantom Forge’s tricks. If it ever found you, sized you up, and confirmed you were here… it wouldn’t need a conspiracy. And it definitely wouldn’t send three scrap-metal idiots like us.”
The woman froze. The logic landed. Hiding was her only advantage—without it, she really was helpless. Phantom Forge wouldn’t need “plots.”
After a brief silence, she nodded and lowered the grenade.
“You’re really Wyatt’s people?”
“Of course!”
“Absolutely!”
“Without question!”
“Then where is Wyatt?”
Eisen quickly explained what had happened—what Wyatt had run into, and why he’d changed course.
The woman went still.
“You’re saying… Phantom Forge’s ‘main body’ was a trap? Lord Julian was fooled?”
Eisen nodded.
Starling’s mind spun. She could barely accept how fast everything had shifted.
“Yes,” Eisen said. “Phantom Forge has Julian by the throat. That’s why Lord Wyatt had to alter his route and take an insane risk to deal with it. Otherwise… the consequences would be unthinkable.”
“But he succeeded,” Dorian said, almost vibrating with excitement. “Last night.”
“Last night?” Starling blurted. “There was an earthquake. It nearly tore the whole ship apart. Are you saying…”
“I’m sorry,” Eisen said. “None of us expected the impact to be that big.”
“What did he do?”
“Would you… come see for yourself?”
…
Night had just fallen, but it wasn’t the usual black. The world was washed in a dim violet haze, turning the silent, empty mountains uncanny.
Starling followed them up the highest nearby ridge and looked east.
Beyond the rolling peaks, the horizon glowed like dawn—like sunrise had arrived early—except the light was a sick, purple-red.
Dorian handed her binoculars. She raised them.
Fire.
A wall of it at the edge of the world, huge enough to blot out the sky. A day and a night had passed, and it still showed no sign of weakening.
Starling lowered the binoculars and just stared.
“That’s his work,” Minks said.
Eisen watched the burning horizon with something close to reverence. “Yes. Lord Wyatt… pulled Phantom Forge’s teeth.”