ELARION : The Echo Breaker

CHAPTER 7: Undercurrent

"This isn't a path," Niko complained, his voice echoing hollowly in the narrow metal corridor. "It’s an intestine. We’re walking inside the gut of a feverish dragon."

Niko was right. The Lower Sector ventilation shafts were no place for humans. The air was thick, wet, and smelled of a mix of burnt oil and sulfur. The temperature here was at least forty degrees Celsius, hot enough to make sweat evaporate before it could even drip.

Ahead, Elara crawled forward with the agility of a lab rat that had memorized its maze. Her leather apron dragged in the dust, and the tools at her waist went clink-clank with every move.

Occasionally she stopped, aiming a small oil flashlight at pipe joints, muttering obscure numbers.

"...thermal expansion valve... level four corrosion... damn it, they haven't changed this seal since the era of King Cassian..."

Ganda brought up the rear. He closed the line. For Ganda, heat wasn't the main enemy. The enemy was Sound.

In this narrow tunnel, engine echoes from the entire Sun's Throat were trapped and reflected repeatedly.

THOOM... THOOM... THOOM...

The sound of giant pistons in the distance sounded like the heartbeat of a monster sleeping right behind the wall.

Hiss...

Steam escaping micro-cracks.

Creak...

Metal expanding from heat.

Ganda closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his temples. His Resonance screamed. His head felt like it was being hit by a sledgehammer every second. He was grateful his right hand was numb; otherwise, the vibration of the metal walls he was touching might have snapped the nerves in his hand.

"Why did I come along?" Niko ranted again, his face beet-red like a boiled shrimp. He wiped the sweat flooding his eyes. "I'm a merchant, by the God of Coin! I have a cart up there. I could be waiting there eating dry bread."

"And get your throat slit in five minutes," Ganda replied flatly from behind. His voice was hoarse, throat dry. "That thug gang is definitely combing the warehouse area by now. You're safer in this oven than out there, Niko."

"Safe my ass!" Niko kicked a dried-up dead rat. "Look at this rat! It died cooked!"

"Quiet," Elara cut in without turning. She was busy scraping rust off a panel with her screwdriver tip. "You're wasting oxygen uselessly. At this depth, air ventilation isn't optimal. The more you complain, the faster you pass out."

Elara stopped at a pipe intersection. There were two dark tunnels ahead. Left and right. Both dark, both hot.

The girl unrolled her crumpled blueprint on the oily floor. She adjusted her thick glasses that kept sliding down due to sweat.

"According to my original design," Elara said, finger tracing a white line on the blue paper, "The right path is the Main Intake Pipe. It's the fastest route to the Core Room's outer wall. Wide diameter, stable pressure."

She pointed her flashlight down the right tunnel. It looked clean. "This way."

Elara was just about to step to the right when Ganda’s left hand gripped her apron shoulder, pulling her back roughly.

"Hey!" Elara protested, almost dropping her flashlight. "Don't touch! I'm calculating—"

"Don't go there," Ganda interrupted.

"Why? The map says it's safe. That's just a cold air channel for turbine cooling!" Elara pointed at her paper stubbornly. "Structurally, it's the most logical path!"

Ganda shook his head slowly. Eyes closed, focused on listening to the darkness in the right tunnel.

"There's liquid inside," Ganda said. "Not water. The sound is... heavy. Viscous."

He tilted his head slightly.

"And when it drips... the iron hisses. Sssss... Sssss... Like meat frying in a pan."

Elara's face went pale. She immediately understood the technical translation of that sound description. "Hissing?" she whispered. "Coolant Acid. If that pipe is leaking, the vapor alone could melt your lungs in seconds."

Ganda pointed to the left tunnel. "Go left. It's narrow, lots of loose bolts, but the pipe is 'dead'. No flow."

Without waiting for a debate, Ganda stepped into the left tunnel first. He lowered his body, knees bent in an alert stance so his footsteps wouldn't echo. His movement was efficient, energy-saving, and silent.

Niko hurriedly followed, dragging his large backpack so it wouldn't touch the oil-slicked walls. "Wait for me! Don't leave me with this mad scientist!"

Elara stood frozen for a moment. She stared at the right tunnel, the path she designed herself. The path that was "perfect" on paper.

Then she stared at Ganda's back moving away into the darkness.

Elara snatched up her blueprint, crumbled it slightly, then jogged to catch up with Ganda while pulling out her small notebook.

"Hey! Subject!" Elara called enthusiastically, forgetting the danger just now. Her copper eyes shone with curiosity behind her lenses. "That hissing frequency... how many Hertz? You can distinguish fluid viscosity from sound reflection?"

Ganda didn't turn. He kept moving forward, cutting through the dark. "The smell has already reached here," Ganda answered flatly. "Shut your mouth or you'll be vomiting blood."

Not long after, they reached the end of the underworld.

The ventilation shaft ended at a thick iron grate facing downward. Below them lay a view that stopped the breath.

They were in the ceiling of a massive room, an industrial cathedral. Hundreds of meters below, thousands of ant-sized workers moved among steam engines towering like skyscrapers. And in the center, sat the thing.

The Iron Cannon.

It wasn't just a cannon. It was a metallurgical nightmare. Its barrel was as long as a toppled watchtower, pitch black, absorbing light. Thick cables wrapped around it like veins, injecting steam power and chemical fluids from giant tanks surrounding it.

The vibration here wasn't just sound anymore. It was a constant earthquake.

THOOM... THOOM... THOOM...

Ganda gripped the iron grate with his left hand. His ears rang with pain.

"We're here," whispered Elara, her voice drowned out by the factory roar.

She pressed her face to the grate, eyes sparkling at the terrifying creation. "That's it. The God-Killer. And we are right above its heart."

Ganda looked down. His dead eyes saw only the target.

"Open the grate," Ganda ordered Elara.

"Wait," Niko held his breath, looking down in horror. "We're going down there? Into the middle of thousands of soldiers?"

"Not to the bottom," Ganda said. He pointed to a maintenance deck hanging on the side of the cannon barrel, hidden in steam shadows. "There. To its veins."

Ganda felt his left wrist for a moment, ensuring the object, the Cracked Bell, was still there under the bandages. Then he lowered his hand.

"Prepare your tools, Architect," Ganda said to Elara. "We're going to give this monster a heart attack."