After we arrived, we saw Anise arrive with her parents, and I also saw Sallia’s parents waiting for us. I took a moment to inspect them.

Anise’s parents looked fit and healthy. They had a sort of dazed demeanor about them, despite the fact that they were preparing to flee the city. I got the impression that they weren’t really used to handling hardships or calamities. Anise’s father even had a very slight potbelly. He had crinkles around his eyes that made me think he smiled a lot, but they were very hard to notice, since he wasn’t smiling right now. His expression was vacant as he looked at the city where he had probably spent most of his life, and for a moment, I was worried he would have another change of heart and decide not to run with us. But when he looked at Anise, his eyes grew firmer and more determined.

Anise’s mother was somewhere in her late twenties or early thirties, about the same age as Anise’s father. She had a metal hand, unlike Anise’s father, who had no prosthetics. Her hand was extremely well crafted - it looked almost like a work of art, and I could tell that a lot of mechanical knowledge and care had been put into crafting it.

She was currently using her organic left hand to hold Anise, and her right hand was hanging loosely by her side. Something about the way her hand moved gave me the impression that getting punched with her right hand would hurt a lot. It almost looked like Anise’s mother had learned a bit of self-defense, too. Not enough to pose a threat to a soldier, or somebody really trained in combat - but enough to at least fend off the average street thug.

They had healthier bodies than the rest of us, courtesy of the fact that they had more regular meals. But despite their obvious healthiness, I had the feeling that I would need to pay close attention to them, to make sure that they didn’t buckle under the pressure of running. The unconcealed fear in their eyes as they looked at us like startled animals made me a little worried about them. They clearly weren’t people who were used to making snap decisions that might affect whether they lived or died - they were people who were used to living in wealth and comfort.

However, Anise’s father still had a firm and strong gaze when he looked at his daughter. I could see love and determination there, and he had come here the moment it seemed likely that the invading coalition army would pose a threat to Anise.

Even if he was mentally soft and weak compared to the people of the slums, he was still determined to protect his daughter. I could respect that. Bravery was about being afraid, but moving forward anyway, and I admired Anise’s father for making the decision to leave behind his decent job and stable life in order to keep Anise safe. I looked at Anise, and gave her a faint smile. It looked like she had lucked out with her parents this life.

Then, I felt a bit guilty at the thought. My mother was… not exactly helpful, or particularly loving, but she was still probably trying her best in her own way. Comparing her to my previous families, or Anise’s family, wasn’t fair to her.

I shook my head, and turned my attention to Sallia’s parents. I wanted to distract myself from thinking about my own mother, who I had needed to bring her while she was unconscious and blissed out.

Sallia’s parents were a lot thinner, and also looked a bit older than Anise’s parents. Which was interesting, since I knew Anise’s parents were actually older than Sallia’s. Living in the slums forced one to grow up quickly if they wanted to live, and so Sallia’s parents had the lean, wiry strength of people who had lived through situations others hadn’t.

Sallia’s father had an entire arm replaced with a rather mediocre prosthetic. It was several bits of scrap iron, welded together with a bit of rough construction. If it weren’t for his binding essence holding the thing together, I suspected his arm might fall apart at any time. It had nowhere near the exquisite craftsmanship put into it that Anise’s mother’s hand had. It probably cost several times more binding essence to move his arm, and I doubted he could do any precision work with it either.

I suspected they would have an easier time than Anise’s parents with the flight from the city, even though they were clearly less healthy.

The other families looked at my unconscious mother. I saw Sallia’s mother frown, before shaking her head and looking at Sallia, who was helping me carry my mother. Her expression grew slightly warmer when she looked at Sallia, but I could still see distinct distaste in her eyes. She sighed, and then looked at Old Mo.

Old Mo gave my mother a curious look, before raising an eyebrow at me. I sighed, and shook my head.

“I’ll be responsible for her,” I said. “I can’t just… leave her here to die.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Old Mo looked at my mother, and his eyes grew harsher for a few moments. And then he looked at me, and his eyes softened.

“Just… if she proves to be a burden, or it proves impossible to take care of her, I’m leaving her behind,” he said. “If she can keep up with the rest of the group… I guess you can bring her along.”

“Thank you, Old Mo!” I said, before springing forward and giving him a big hug.

Old Mo seemed surprised for a moment, and I saw his right arm twitch as his fingers reached towards something. But a moment later, he caught himself, and gently ruffled my hair before pushing me back to my feet.

“This should be everyone, then,” he said, scanning the four of us and our families. “Do you have any self-defense weapons?”

I grinned, and Felix and I both pulled out guns from my backpack. Old Mo’s eyes widened when he saw our guns.

“Two rifles. Are they good?”

I nodded. “They fire just fine.”

Old Mo looked at my backpack again, and frowned. “The fact that you managed to fit those things into your backpack without them protruding out is… interesting. You’ll have to show me how you did that later. It’s a neat trick.” Then, he shrugged. “Well, two more guns will definitely make this easier.

“All right, let’s get moving. I have a friend who has already gotten us a route out of the city. The edges of the city are on lockdown right now, but a few people have passes to move about - mostly officials, soldiers, and a few other important jobs such as messengers. I used a few connections to get a pass for us to use, so we can just walk through,” he said. Then, he reached into his pocket and handed Anise’s father and Sallia’s father two pistols.

“They’re unloaded, but if someone makes trouble, feel free to wave them around. They should scare off the average hooligan, at least. And all you really need to do is buy time for me to fix the problem,” Old Mo grinned.

Anise’s father seemed a little shocked when he saw Old Mo’s grin and heard his words, but he hurriedly nodded and grabbed the empty gun. Sallia’s father simply took the gun, fiddled with it for a few moments, and then nodded, before stuffing it into his coat.

“Any chance we can get some of the ammunition too?” asked Sallia’s father.

“Maybe once we know each other a little better,” said Old Mo.

Sallia’s father didn’t seem terribly disappointed by Old Mo’s response. With that, the group started heading towards the edge of the city.

As we moved further and further away from the slums, I couldn’t help but notice that the spires of steel and brass, as well as the massive clocktower in the center of town, were getting further and further away from me. I had spent this life in the shadow of that giant clocktower and the bulky flying machines that docked in the center of the city each day - and now, for the first time, I was leaving them behind. If things went well, and we moved to another country, I might never see them again.

Part of me felt a bit sad. The city of brass and steel had been a truly fascinating sight to behold, and I did kind of enjoy the view of the giant clocktower in the distance as I went about each day.

But a bigger part of me felt relieved.

I was tired of living in the slums. I felt exhausted from how hard it had been just to scrape by every day. Feeding Felix and myself was far harder than it should have been, because the city just didn’t provide opportunities for slum kids. I wanted something more from this life.

There was almost nothing that I cared about in this city, and almost no material possessions that I valued. Our home was ratty and moldy. We had almost no money. Food was scarce. The people were silent and wary.

I wanted out. I felt like I had been trapped for years in the mindset and circumstances I had been born into, and now, I felt like a pressure I had never been aware of was lifting away from my mind.

I smiled as we approached the edge of the city. I was eager to be leaving.

It took almost another hour of walking before we reached the edge of the city, where we found a large line. Controlling the line was a small barricade, with a group of soldiers with exceptionally distinctive, massive black hats manning it and wielding rifles. I was a bit worried when I saw the line, since a soldier catching on to us might spell trouble. Even if it was spectacularly unlikely that somebody would link our group to the rescue of Felix all those years ago, I had been very nervous around hats for the last few years. Our group quickly shuffled towards the front of the line, as one person after another was either told to get lost or allowed out of the city.

“Halt!” said a soldier. My muscles tensed as he gave our group a dubious look, and I subconsciously reached for my alteration essence and absorption essence. Just in case he noticed something.

But I did my best to look like an ordinary child as well. I gave the soldier a confident gaze that I didn’t actually feel at all, and gave him my best ‘normal six year old’ smile.

The soldier looked at me even more dubiously for a moment, before he shrugged.

Old Mo handed the soldier a pass, and a few pieces of paper. The soldier quickly looked over both documents, spending a few nerve-wracking minutes reading over one particular section of Old Mo’s papers. Then, he narrows his eyes at us for a moment longer, before he waved us through..

“Your papers look good,” he said. “Go on.” And then, he waved us through.

Old Mo nodded, and our group walked through the barricade and out of the city.

We were free.