The Kinetic Emperor: Reborn in a World of Iron

Chapter 9

Ren grunted. He turned the wheel. Clank. Clank. Clank.

The sound was incredibly loud in the empty hallway. Silas kept his eyes on the corners, listening for security drones. His body was still weak, but his mind was sharp. He knew that the moment the door opened, they would be committed. There was no turning back.

The door hissed. A cloud of foul-smelling air puffed out. It smelled of rot, old blood, and bitter soap. It was the smell of a world that had been forgotten.

Behind the door was a dark hole. It tilted downward at a sharp angle. The walls of the hole were slick with grey slime. It looked like the throat of a monster.

"Wait for it," Ren said. He gripped the edge of the door frame.

Suddenly, a massive sound filled the hallway. WHOOOOOOOOM.

It was a roar of air. It was so loud that Silas had to cover his ears. The wind coming out of the hole was hot and violent. It blew Ren’s hoodie back. It felt like a giant was exhaling. The pressure was so high that Silas felt his ears pop.

The roar lasted for ten seconds. Then, it stopped. The silence that followed was even scarier than the noise.

"Now!" Ren shouted. "Go! Go! Go!"

Ren didn't hesitate. He sat on the edge of the slick, metal slide and pushed off. He vanished into the darkness with a short, muffled cry.

Silas followed.

He sat on the edge. The metal was freezing cold against his thin pants. He looked into the void. This was the "Freefall of the Forgotten." Up above, the Lords and Nobles ate steak and drank wine. Down here, the trash fell in the dark.

Silas pushed off.

The world vanished.

The first thing he felt was the speed. The slide was much steeper than it looked. He wasn't just sliding; he was falling. The grey slime on the walls acted like grease. He moved faster and faster.

The air rushed past his ears. It whistled. It screamed.

He couldn't see anything. It was total, absolute darkness. He felt a piece of something hit his shoulder—a chunk of frozen food or a piece of plastic. It stung, but he didn't move. He kept his body straight. He kept his feet together.

He was a General. He had jumped from high-altitude dropships into burning warzones. He had fallen through the clouds with a sword in his hand and fire in his eyes.

But this was different.

In his old life, he was a god. In this life, he was a boy in a chute.

The slide curved. Silas was slammed against the side of the tunnel. The metal groaned. He felt a sharp pain in his ribs—the fractures from the fight with Jace were complaining. He gritted his teeth.

"Focus," he told himself. "Count the seconds."

One. Two. Three.

He estimated the distance. If the Academy was five miles up, and the slide was at a forty-five-degree angle, they would be traveling at nearly sixty miles per hour.

The darkness started to change. It wasn't pitch black anymore. There was a faint, sickly green glow coming from below.

Splash.

Silas hit a pool of shallow liquid. It sprayed up into his face. It tasted like salt and chemicals. It burned his eyes. He wiped his face with one hand, trying to stay balanced.

He heard a voice echoing from ahead. "Kian! The gates! Look for the red light!"

It was Ren. He sounded far away.

Silas squinted. Ahead of him, the tunnel opened up into a massive cavern. The walls were covered in glowing fungus and dripping pipes. In the middle of the cavern, the slide ended.

Below the end of the slide was a giant pit filled with shadows. Across the pit was a series of massive metal grates—the filtration gates. They were covered in heaps of trash.

And on the side of the tunnel, just before the drop, was a single, flickering red light.

It marked a small maintenance platform.

Silas saw Ren. The smaller boy was clinging to a metal ladder, having barely made the jump. He was waving his arm frantically.

"Jump! You have to jump now!"

Silas was moving too fast. The end of the slide was coming. If he missed the platform, he would fall into the pit. The pit was filled with "The Mash"—a grinding machine that broke down solid waste into pulp.

Silas prepared his body. He ignored the pain in his leg. He ignored the fatigue in his arms.

He reached the end of the slide.

He launched himself into the air.

For a moment, he was flying. The cavern was huge. He could see the distant, flickering lights of the Undercity far below. It looked like a sea of embers. He could smell the heavy, wet air of the Sump.

He reached for the ladder.

His fingers hit the cold, rusted iron. They slipped.

The slime on his hands was like oil. He began to fall backward.

"No!" Ren screamed.

Silas didn't panic. Panic was for the dead.

He used his momentum. As he fell, he kicked his legs out, hooking them around the bottom rung of the ladder. He swung upside down like a bat. His head was inches away from the dark, grinding teeth of the Mash below.

He felt the vibration of the machines. He felt the heat rising from the pits.

With a grunt of pure will, Silas curled his body upward. He grabbed the rung with his hands. He hauled himself up, his muscles burning, his lungs gasping for the thick, foul air.

He rolled onto the metal platform. He lay there, staring at the distant, dark ceiling of the cavern.

Ren scrambled over to him. He was shaking. He looked like he wanted to cry. "You... you almost... I thought you were gone."