Sparks, a loud crashing noise, fire. After that, nothing but darkness. Memories kept climbing out of the dark well of Ikaros’ mind. Vile and painful visions from the past that he’d rather keep there.

His oath to the Bridge, an eternal vow to seek knowledge whatever the cost, to create without restraints, to search for worlds once lost.

Harvesting souls of other mages, found in the Provinces and locked up under the Royal palace. The sound of screams, the smell of fear and piss, the clammy feeling of Dust around him.

Hearing the Builders speak of Aetheron, of a future without limits, of warfare and destruction.

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Someone slapped him awake. Ikaros didn’t mind the pain: everything was better than his memories. In front of him stood a young girl. She looked at him as if she’d expected something from him. ‘What? Who are you?’ The girl quickly glanced outside, and then she spoke. ‘My name is Shield. I came to save you from those fleshtraders but I noticed you didn’t really need my help. Well, except for what happened next.’ Ikaros frowned. ‘What happened next?’ She laughed. ‘I was pursued by a pack of angry thugs with you on my back. You kept on whispering something about the Bridge. What was that about?’ Suddenly, everything came back to him. How those Dusthunters had betrayed their mission and left him with that fleshtrader. How he built that bomb from scrap and Dust and how, well, how he blew everything up. ‘Thank you, miss, for saving my life!’ She shrugged. ‘Don’t thank me yet. My job is to deliver you to a friend of mine. Seems there is someone who needs you.’ He stood up. ‘No, no! You have to let me go! I’m.. I can.. They will.. Just let me go, please?’ The young woman shook her head. ‘Already agreed on a drop-off point. Sorry, nothing personal.’

Ikaros sat back down and cursed. He stroked Pounce and closed his eyes. The Bridge will find me. They know I’m here. Shit.