Evan looked through the darkness. He saw the green lights of the bikes. He saw the white armor of the Scorpions. There were thousands of them. They had formed a perfect circle around the obsidian pedestal."How do we get through that?" Silas asked."We don't go through them," Evan said.He looked at the ceiling of the cavern. He saw the cooling pipes. He saw the giant glass tubes carrying the liquid life-force."We use the 'Main Vein'," Evan said."The glass tube?" Marco gasped. "Evan, that thing is full of high-pressure time-essence! If you break it, we’ll be aged a thousand years in a second!""I won't break it," Evan said. "I'll ride it."Evan stood up on the sled. He felt the purple fire in his blood answering the call of the Vault."Marco, give me the 'Siren'," Evan commanded.Marco handed him the brass skull. It was vibrating so hard it was almost white."Silas, get ready to move the sled to the South Gate. When the explosion happens, the Vipers will run for the Spire. That’s wh

A man in a green velvet suit was walking toward them. It was Jax, the floor manager. He had a gold tooth and a smile that looked like it had been painted on."I am Jax," the man said, bowing to Marco. "I run the floor for the Syndicate. We heard a High-Tier was in the house. How can I make your evening... eternal?"Marco looked at Jax as if he were a bug on his shoe. "I’m bored, Jax. The slots are for children. The dice are for rats. I want to see the 'Main Vein'. I want to bet on the total harvest of the night."Jax’s smile flickered. He looked at Silas, then at the hooded Evan. "The Main Vein? That is a... restricted area, my Lord. It is where the Bank’s primary data-stream is processed. Only the Directors and the Archive Wardens are allowed inside."Marco stepped closer to Jax. He leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Do you know who my father is, Jax?"Jax swallowed hard. "I... I do not, my Lord.""My father is the man who decides which casinos get their gravity-p

The air inside The Brass Leviathan was like a thick, hot soup. It was full of the smell of cheap protein bars, unwashed bodies, and the sharp, stinging scent of electricity. Thousands of people moved around the giant room. They were like ghosts. Their eyes were wide and red. They stared at the spinning wheels and the falling dice. They were all looking for one thing: more time.Evan Kennedy stood in the shadows near a giant pillar made of rusted iron. He felt the black suit against his skin. It was heavy. It was lined with lead. It was supposed to hide the purple glow of his blood, but the Void inside him was getting stronger. His chest felt like it was full of cold needles.[VOID CORRUPTION: 56%][WARNING: BIOLOGICAL CONTAINER IS CRACKING]"Sunshine, do you see him?"Marco’s voice was a tiny buzz in Evan’s ear. Marco was hiding behind a row of tall slot machines. He was dressed like a high-tier servant, but his hand was tight on his concealed rifle."I see him," Evan whispered.He

The garden at the top of the Spire was too quiet. It was a fake quiet. The trees were silver, and their leaves did not rustle in the wind because there was no wind. The blue water in the stream did not splash; it flowed like liquid glass. In the center of this beautiful, terrible place, Evan Kennedy stood facing the man who looked like his father. Arthur Kennedy. The Architect.Arthur looked young. He looked strong. He looked like the version of a father a child would draw in a picture book. He held the blue bicycle with one hand, his fingers resting on the rubber grip. His eyes were not human anymore. They were two violet suns, burning with the power of the Bank."Sixty seconds, Evan," Arthur said. His voice was like a song played on a harp made of bone. "Sixty seconds until the world hits zero. Sixty seconds until I delete the mistakes, the debts, and the dirt. We will start again. You, me, and your mother. A perfect circle."Evan felt the white light of the Infinite Spark roaring

The maintenance alcove was a dark, narrow rib in the side of the great beast known as The Brass Leviathan. It was a space never meant for a human to stay in. It was a space for pipes. It was a space for wires. It was a space for the hot, oily breath of the machines that kept the rich people breathing and the poor people gambling.Marco sat in the shadows. He pulled his knees up to his chest. He was a small man in a large suit of armor, but right now, he felt like a mouse hiding from a cat. The air in the alcove was thick. It smelled like burnt hair and expensive soap. It was the smell of the High Spire. His robotic arm gave a tiny, sharp click.Marco winced. He reached over with his real hand and gripped the metal elbow. “Quiet, you piece of junk,” he whispered. He hated the arm. He hated that he had to have it. It was a reminder of the day he tried to be a hero for the first time and lost a piece of himself. But it was also a tool. A tool built by the Bank, now being used to brea