Novels2Search
EndWalkers
Chapter 19: Sanctuary From the Smokes

Chapter 19: Sanctuary From the Smokes

[NPC Log Start!]

[Log Holder: Lucky Paine]

[Level: 1, Sub-Level: 3]

Outside of the factories that made up her domain, and away from the all-encompassing smog that plagued the rest of the world, there was the Gunnersons Sanctuary.

It was a huge, sprawling town, made up of swooping arches and high spirals and the most artistic architecture Lucky had seen in a very long time. Trapped in a dome to keep all the pollutants out, everything was painted in light blues and greens to give it an airy feel. The only colors that differed from this color scheme were the golds and silvers and bronzes that made up all the buildings. Gear patterns lined the fences of grassless parks, and streetlamps were shaped curiously like clock hands. There were no living horses, but all the cabs were drawn by automaton renditions of them, hissing and spitting with steam as they trod through the flat marble streets.

For all its grandeur, the Gunnersons Sanctuary was also startlingly empty.

It wasn’t completely so. There were people, wandering about, partaking in the few pastries and enjoyments that Genevieve had managed to preserve. But there were not nearly enough people that the Sanctuary was built for. It always bothered them, every time she made the journey up. Of course, she was living in a place of comfort and privilege and had no business complaining, but… it still chafed.

In the middle of the Sanctuary, there was a spire. It served the double purpose of acting both as an elevator for the people coming up from down below, and also as an office for Genevieve and the rest of the Gunnersons’ inner circle. At least it meant that Lucky didn’t have to walk the length of this bright blue monstrosity, looking at the nests that had been overstuffed with glowing trinkets while the Tumblethorn kids outside choked to death.

Ever since the sorcerer named Michael had dropped into her life, she’d kept a much closer eye on the goings on around her. Before, they had been content to sit and simply follow the directives of their job. Not anymore. They had come to terms with the amount of pull she had inadvertently been given by Genevieve. The things she could do if they simply put her mind to it.

The first thing they had immediately caught onto was the fact that the Sanctuary… was a fairly sizable polluter.

There was no other way to go about it. One look at the numbers and the resources and the sheer services being provided, and it was apparent that the fuel needed for this was a lot, and the waste coming from it must match it in strength.

But that was nothing compared to actually seeing it. Lucky had travelled to the outside of the Sanctuary, as one of their preliminary tests with flight, and had almost been knocked out of the air when she had seen the giant plume of smoke gushing out from one of the exhausts. Dark black and thicker than a century old tree trunk, the noxious fumes went up in the air, blistering the inside of her throat, even as it went up and up and up.

In every direction they looked, there were more massive columns, reaching up into the heavens, clogging up their eyes and nose and lungs. Must have been at least ten, relentlessly pumping away into the air.

They felt sick just by thinking about it.

Most people would go full kamikaze at that point, blowing things up, taking hostages, demanding a stop to all of this. Lucky Paine was not most people.

She went back down, and her flying gear wanked out on her, so that was one avenue closed to her, and they slipped on their best blazer and hat. Genevieve always appreciated a well-groomed appearance. Regardless of how she pretended, Lucky was not actually unaware of how the woman cringed whenever she interrupted Lucky in the middle of work. If it bothered her that much, maybe she shouldn’t interrupt them at that time? Rich people were weird.

And now, she had sought out an audience with the Board of Directors responsible for the Gunnersons. IT was short notice, but people tended to want to hear her out, given that they were the head engineer of this entire operation.

The elevator continued its ascent, up and up and up, until even the intimidating Sanctuary buildings became pinpricks. That was when the door behind her slid open, revealing a fully carpeted corridor, lined with floor to ceiling windows.

She wasn’t entirely sure why there was a corridor at all, given that it was only ten feet long, and it only had one set of executive doors on the other side, helpfully labelled “Head Honchos”. The absolute pricks.

Not one to be irked by the little signs of obnoxiousness the people in charge were prone to, she simply straightened out her clothes, wiped off a spot of oil from her handlebars, and tried to slip the legs of her chair into a more compact position. Go for meek and harmless, even if you didn’t pull either f those off very well.

One of her long, mechanical legs pushed open the door, and she expertly maneuvered themself inside. The board of directors hadn’t changed much since they had joined the project, and neither had their room. The same wrinkly, pale faces around the same horseshoe shaped table in the same red and black room with the oddest lighting imaginable.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Lucky fought the urge to squint, despite how the light was jabbing into her eyes.

“Good evening.” She announced, trying not to sound too commanding. It was always a tightrope with these people.

They all nodded seriously, not even deigning to give her a response. It was Genevieve, sitting in the middle of the bend, who beamed brightly at her, hands clasped together, “You had some concerns, Lucky?” She prompted.

“I worry.” They started, throat drying up at all the attention being turned towards her. Public speaking was never her specialty, even as a child. Solid things like metal and glass and circuitry were easy. But the human mind was fickle and everchanging. Not a good material to be sculpting things out of.

“I worry for the ramifications of our flagrant energy usage.” They finally settled on saying.

“Oh?” One of the others raised an eyebrow.

Lucky nodded emphatically, “I have seen the full scale of how much energy we are consuming, simply in the Sanctuary. Not to mention the amounts being used by the train system. It is unsustainable and may be pushing our world over the precipice it is already on.”

This statement garnered no reaction whatsoever, so she instead went down a different route, “Also, we will soon be running out of fuel without a way to source more.”

Predictably, a roar of outrage went up. Only Genevieve remained calm, “What do you expect of us, then?” She asked. A thrown gauntlet.

“Ration out the fuel we have right now.” Lucky replied, her thoughts running away from them as she began to share the ideas buzzing in their head, “That way we can stretch it out further and longer, until we can find out alternative uses of energy.”

“That is not what our customers are paying us for, though.” She rebuffed. And why were all these people here if they weren’t going to be talking?

“All the money in the multiverse will not create coal out of nothing.” She shot back, patience quickly dwindling.

“It will last us long enough.” Genevieve insisted. And maybe it was something in her words, or some other change in the air pressure, but suddenly, it seemed to make a lot of sense. She just had so much conviction that Lucky wanted to close their eyes and agree blindly. But she wouldn’t. They’d felt this before. Michael had warned her about their devil influences. It wouldn’t work this time, because she had cold, hard logic on her side.

“Long enough for what?”

“For you to perfect the chlorophyll electricity extractor you have been so set on.” Genevieve reminded her. That was odd, they didn’t remember telling her about the specifics of that project. But it was reasonable that she knew. It wasn’t exactly a secret or anything. Besides, it felt… good that someone was putting their faith in Lucky like this.

So, they nodded, trying not to let the dopey smile stretch across her face too much, and moved her hand over to the controls so that she could skitter out of the room.

“One second, Lucky.” Genevieve interrupted, raising her hand to make them come to a stop, “I am glad you brought this to my attention. It shows your dedication to what we’re trying to accomplish. Here, help yourself to a food ticket. The croissants up on Main Street are fantastic.”

Lucky nodded, reaching forward without a thought to grab the piece of parchment from the woman, with a stamped allowance for a fifteen-point food item. Just a small snack on the Sanctuary.

“Thank you.” They muttered, legs moving out of the room at double time, even though she didn’t feel at all panicked. If she wasn’t discomfited, why was she gripping the controls so hard?

She went down to the Sanctuary, her chair immediately grabbing attention from the few bystanders walking around, but what else was new?

Main Street was filled with food stalls. All artificially made flour and butter and flavorings, but it was the best that people could have at that point.

She found the croissant place Genevieve mentioned though, and tried to buy a chocolate croissant. Those were twenty points, though, so she settled for a plain one and mooched some jam from behind the counter, where it was in easy grabbing distance for her sneakier legs.

It was soft, and sweet, and filled with flaky, buttery layers that she hadn’t had the pleasure to indulge in, even when before she ran away into the tumblethorn areas. Unbearably good. Genevieve had been right when she had sent Lucky here, just as she was right about Lucky solving the electricity problem. They just needed to buckle down and figure it out.

“They’re playing you, you know.” A voice, raspy but high pitched, spoke up from beside her. Even in the deserted restaurant, somehow they had missed the girl who had sat down beside her. How had that happened?

It wasn’t like she was a normal patron, either, because she looked nothing like the rest of the Sanctuary’s inhabitants, dressed in ragged clothes and definitely carrying weapons. There was a sharpness to her eyes that could only belong to a tumblethorn kid, and yet the poise and elegance with which she sat on the chair… something told them that that wasn’t it.

“Who’re you?” They asked, guarded.

“Batman.” The girl replied, deadpan.

“A real name.”

She snorted, just a little crack in the façade, “Verity Monroe.”

The name clicked something in her, “You’re one of these ‘Players’.” She realized, “More of a Jared or a Michael?”

“Neither, and I don’t care what feud you have between those two.” Verity denied, “I’m here to help you with your little Compulsion problem and create a form of low-waste energy source so that I can go home. Nothing more, nothing less.”

At least she was honest about it. Lucky could respect that.

“How’d you get in here?” She asked instead, “Did the Warp Point put you in here, or…?”

“Found it by myself.” Verity shook off, “Really just a simple matter of sneaking in once my Tracking did the rest of the work.”

And here she’d been prepared to have to hunt down the little buggers one by one. At least this greatly simplified things.

“Why help me with whatever person you think is Compelling me?” She asked, “Doesn’t seem like a requirement for you to go home.”

“It’s not.” Verity confirmed, “I just… I don’t like people doing things against their will. Even if they’re being blackmailed or something, at least they know what they’re getting into, you know? Leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

Lucky was painfully familiar with the feeling.

“You’re definitely a Michael.” They confirmed. Verity stole the last bit of their croissant in revenge.

[NPC Log End!]