Hundreds of the soulless, darkened eyes of the Iron Lungs stared from every corner that the three outsiders passed. Tenner asked the guide about the crowds several times. The man remained silent.

Ames stepped ahead and cleared her throat, then tried to get more information. “Do you know of the quickest way to Realm 676 once your Chiefs let us through?”

The guide’s fondness for silence didn’t dare disturb it with an answer.

“Any places to stay the night? Or bounty scum that our own personal Tenshot could easily evaporate?”

Nothing.

Among the crowd of the Iron Lungs, a peculiar individual caught Tenner’s attention. Ames and Gi saw him as well as their expressions soured. Instead of a battery, the onlooker in the shadow held a glass ball of crimson with machinery pumping it to veins all around his body. There was a red cross on his chest. A laserpistol hung off his belt. This Blood Lung--if one could call him that--looked the three newcomers in the eyes for a solid minute, then retreated into the shadows of the zeppelin hanging over Wirehaven.

Their gaze meeting Tenner’s, the Blood Lung turned away.

This place has bad signs all around, Tenner thought. Ames’ eyes reflected the same thought. She’d been in gangs. She knew traps all too well and seemed uncomfortable in her own skin.

The guide led them to an ancient fortress. Hundreds of tiny windows lined the brick walls. Metalguns--what Tenner had found out non-laser-firing weapons were called--stuck out of each window. A blanket of darkness inside the fortress hid the shooters.

Facing the barrel of a gun and getting shot at didn’t worry Tenner. Something else, something terrible, was happening here.

Faint visions of terrible happenings flashed before his eyes, too blurry for him to know what misdeeds waited ahead.

A vault door was the fortress’ entrance. Rusty and impenetrable to any weapon Tenner knew of. In front of it, protesters loitered, disappointment and exhaustion seeping from their eyes. They barely moved when they saw the three newcomers. They’d stood there a while, waving chips that emitted holographic signs protesting “the blue secret” and “the zeppelin’s tyranny”.

Ames stopped in front of the group, brows furrowed. One of the dissidents introduced herself, a middle-aged woman with a cargo green jacket and vines, and flowers sprawling off of her sleeves.

“I’m Lydia,” she said, then continued without pause, “Have you seen it?”

An even more confused look took on Ames’ face.

“The technodream? Eyes open, eyes closed, it doesn’t matter -- do you want to join the dreamers?” Lydia said.

“And fight for what?”

“Never having to fight. Never having to give in to our animalistic tendencies. Technology is perfection and, used right, it could stop all bloodshed forever--”

“Don’t drag!” the guide snapped. “Frankly, it’s disrespectful to pay such attention to these lazy layabouts!”

Ames turned away and followed the guide into the fortress’ entrance. Her face turned expressionless. Passing the vault door, she kept looking over her shoulder, at the protester.

Come on, Ames, Tenner thought. Anyone who's lived in the streets knows that the technodream is impossible.

At the end of a long corridor, the entrance to the fortress’ main hall, the guide stopped. His fingers slipped inside his mask and it opened, revealing a droopy-eyed, red-nosed old man. He gestured for Tenner, Ames and Gi to do the same.

“Welcome, welcome, to the Circle of Chiefs,” the guide said. “Before you commence, yes, you must hand me all of your weapons over.”

Ames’ head shook. “No we mustn’t,” she said, whispering a perk activation after the words. An overwhelming disagreement with the idea of giving up his weapons took over Tenner. Then, a sense of intimidation, doubtless coming from Gi.

The guide wavered.

“I agree with you. I one hundred percent agree with you. Commence.”

He led them to Wirehaven’s fortress’ hall, a round chamber, whose walls were covered in Iron Lungs and a mural, going up to the ceiling. A half-ring table stood around the middle of the room, seating four chiefs.

The Chiefs were all women, none younger than a hundred years, by the looks of it. Some held cups of steaming drink, some wore knitted sweaters and some -- thick glasses. The one in the middle--the elder--had to be a hundred and fifty. But she was of a massive build, rivaling Gi in size. She wore wire-covered armor and had vibrant red hair that faintly glowed in the dark fortress.

By the time the three stopped and faced the chiefs, the guide had vanished.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Ames took a breath, eyes dancing across CHEK screens, preparing perks. Another deep breath. She was on her way, approaching the elder.

“We are--”

“Denied!” the elder roared.

The chief beside her waved dismissively. “Don’t mind Nanina. She’s old. She’s stubborn. First, child, you should greet us. I am, for example, Sarah-to.”

“Good afternoon, great chiefs of the circle of Wirehaven,” Ames said, following the chiefs’ expressions. “Me and my family-- fellow travelers, I mean, we never intended to intrude upon your perfectly normal town, but we need to pass to Realm 676. If you have a toll, we will pay it, if you have rules -- we will obey them. We want no troubles, just passage.”

“Sarah-to thinks she speaks for me, but she is weak and too young to give up her naivete. I am the elder. I speak for Wirehaven: Wirehaven will not move out of your way and you will not pass through it.” The elder’s gaze slithered towards Gi, Tenner. “Boys, greet your elders!”

“Good afternoon, great Chiefs of the Circle of Wirehaven.” Gi and Tenner said in unison.

Tenner’s voice was quiet and frail. Words didn’t leave his tongue like they used to. By keeping his mouth shut, he kept the dark side of Tenshot chained up.

A few of the chiefs hissed in disapproval at the elder’s words. They whispered in between themselves. One announced that they “had to ask God the last question.” Their heads snapped towards the ceiling. They waved their hands and screamed in tongues, going from deep growling to high-pitched screeching. Lastly, they went mute and prayed.

Ames shared a dumbfounded look with Gi and Tenner.

“We can offer you fifty credits for passage,” she offered, “if money is what you want.”

“Don’t disrespect us like that, child.” Now, even Sarah-to’s tone turned bitter.

“Wirehaven will never need money as long as we remain pure to the cause!” Another Chief spoke up.

The ground trembled. The echo of footsteps bounced from the castle walls. Tenner instinctively activated [Predator] and [The Smellings of Blood], the nausea of the perks’ overuse rocking him. Hundreds of heartbeats, he sensed, moving in from the shadows and the fortress’ endless halls. He focused harder. Heartbeats, encumbered by armor and weapons.

“Guards,” he uttered.

Ames’ hand curled up into a shaking fist. Gi aimed a laserrifle at the darkness.

“You will learn the unmovability of Wirehaven, when you cannot move within a steel and stone cell,” the elder said.

Guards started emerging from the darkness. Among their heartbeats, Tenner sensed two powerful pulses by his sides. Even though his friends were far higher level than even the chiefs, they worried.

Tenner stayed calm as a rock, even with doom closing in. Reluctantly, his fingers gripped his laserpistol. Sometimes, the only way out is the screech of a laserpistol.

Gi dropped his weapon and lunged towards the Circle of Chiefs, every guard after him. Distraction? Suicide attack? Tenner guessed as Gi leaned on the half-ring table and bent down towards the elder’s face.

“Great chiefs, is there a workshop in your town?”

The elder raised a brow.

“Workshop? Wirehaven is home to the greatest workshop there is!”

The guards skid to a stop a meter away from Gi. A hundred rifle barrels pointed down his face.

“I’m a craftsman, one of the best of Realm 224. You can get my services for free if my friends pass.”

“One person sacrificed to Wirehaven -- one person that can pass through--”

Ames cut in. “Then I’ll stay at the gate--”

“Do not interrupt,” the elder snapped. “Get used to the wonders of silence and a shut mouth. You are a special case. Your Tenshot, especially. I wouldn’t be an elder if I couldn’t gaze into the depths of his mind and the sins which granted him his immense power. Tenshot requires two sacrifices for passage.” She raised a pair of frail fingers. “Don’t worry, mastermind Ames, you will not be bending wires in a workshop, but ascending to the zeppelin.”

“Alright, we have ourselves a deal,” Ames said. It was as good as they were going to get. They’d risk too much trying to get more.

And Tenner trusted Ames, trusted that her mastermind perks showed her more than he could ever see.

The elder nodded with satisfaction.

All the chiefs looked up at the mural-covered ceiling, raised their skinny fists and yelled. From somewhere, the guide appeared, waving after himself.

The three followed him to the exit of the fortress.

“Who has earned the right to pass?” the guide asked.

Tenner stepped up.

“Good.” The guide pointed at Ames, then at Gi. “To the brothel and you, my good man, to the zeppelin!”

“It’s the other way around,” Gi grunted.

The guide’s eyes widened. Intentionally or not, he misunderstood Gi as much as a person could.

“He means I’m going to the zeppelin,” Ames said, “and he will become an apprentice at a workshop.”

“Ah, thank the big machine in the sky he isn’t going to the brothel! The Circle of Chiefs would...” The guide began opening the heavy door and its countless sealing mechanisms. “Nevertheless, good man, you have chosen a fate worse, many times worse, than of the zeppelin. Masks on!”

Tenner equipped his mask and stepped into the streets of Wirehaven once more. Strange energy lingered in the air. He chalked it up to the nausea of overusing his perks.

The feeling got worse with every step. He fell to his knees and howled.

Visions of death, Blackglove and a deceitful sky flashed past his eyes.

Tenner returned to reality. Everyone looked at him, Ames and Gi concerned. He stood up and continued after the guide, grimacing. Don’t worry. Just a vision of the future. I’ve no clue what it means, but soon… I’ll know.

Maybe not for the best, but I'll know.

The three stood at the end of Wirehaven. The gates to the road of Realm 676 creaked open. The Realm was like a titan buried on the horizon. Tenner awed at it again.

“It’s coming together well. Really. Just think about it,” Gi said. “We’ll be scattered so Blackglove won’t get us at the same time. I’ll be crafting weapons and Extensions that even I’ll be scared of. And Ames… Well, I have no clue what you’ll be up to in that zeppelin, but I hope it’ll bring about Blackglove’s death.”

“Certainly, Gi, but if I’m afraid of one thing,” Tenner said. “Without you by my side, I could unleash a monster that I buried for a good reason.”

The gate was wide open, now. With his eyes, the guide urged them to hurry. Already, wasteland hypnosis set in, blurring the view in the distance.

“Don’t worry. Listen to yourself, except for the part which tells you to murder everyone in your way,” Ames said. “There’s a lot of power that should remain untapped, alright? Now, go. We don’t have time. Well, at this point, I don’t think we’ll ever have enough time again.”