Dellen’s goal was clear, to stop the spin of the city. Understanding the complex network of controls before him seemed almost as challenging as the climbing and forging to reach the room.

He studied the control panel before him, eyes scanning the unfamiliar script etched beside each lever and dial. His gaze narrowed as he tried to make sense of the arcane symbols, but they resisted understanding, remaining stubbornly obscure.

The Nightingale pulled close to the door. “How did you do that?” Thaddeus yelled over to him.

Dellen jumped, he hadn’t looked for the Nightingale while he forged and climbed, in the back of his mind, he’d already assumed that he had experienced a similar jump to the last time he’d forged with Chronometric Aether, leaving Thaddeus, Thatch, and Gilgamesh to see him vanish.

Gilgamesh hovered over the Nightingale’s deck, “I don’t think I can make it to you.”

“Talent,” Dellen yelled back, not wanting Thaddeus to attempt a jump into the room, "I can’t read the script in here. Do you know anything about it?”

“No,” Thaddeus yelled back, echoed a second later by Gilgamesh.

Dellen nodded to himself, unlike anyone else, he had the luxury of getting it wrong. If every lever that was positioned ‘Up’ was in the ‘On’ position, then switching them would surely bring about change. It was a crude approach, but it was the only plan he had.

Taking a deep breath, Dellen reached out, his hand hovering over the controls.

The first lever felt heavy, not stiff, not corroded, heavy. Dellen had to pull against it, bracing his boots on the bottom of the control panel for the leverage to move it.

It moved, clunking into place. Perhaps it was his imagination, but Dellen felt as though the hum of machinery quieted ever so slightly.

He moved the levers. One by one, he flipped them, their metallic clank echoing in the silence of the control room. Each flip felt like a step in the dark, but each flip gave him that phantom feeling that the power flowing through the room was lessened.

His movements became more determined, a growing confidence fueling his actions. Sweat beaded on his forehead as the room's temperature seemed to rise in response to his efforts. He could almost feel the city responding, its pulse slowing, the relentless grind of machinery easing.

Halfway through, he paused, panting slightly. He leaned against the control panel, his hand shaking slightly from exertion and tension. His gaze swept across the room, taking in the levers still standing in the ‘On' position and the progress he had already made.

The readings on the dials dropped lower and lower. He wondered whether information was displayed for every major and minor cog in the city.

Swallowing his anxiety, he continued, his determination unwavering. As he flicked the final lever, the room fell into a silence that was deafening in its intensity. The once whirring machinery now hummed at a lower frequency, and the room's oppressive heat began to subside.

His heart pounded in his ears, the silence amplifying the sound. He stood still, almost afraid to breathe, waiting for confirmation that his plan had worked. Now, all that was left was to wait and see if Copperopolis would respond.

“Can you see any changes out there?” He yelled to Thaddeus.

The control room was made up of more than just levers, there were smaller switches and buttons, but he thought it best to see what fallout there was from his already reckless actions.

“Not yet.”

Dellen knew he needed to reign in his impatience, Copperopolis was a machine large almost beyond belief, changes would have to be slow, even if what he’d done was sufficient, the city might take hours or days to grind to a halt, gradually bleeding momentum.

He leaned against the wall and settled in to wait.

“What are you doing?” Thaddeus yelled to him.

“Waiting!” Dellen yelled, “The city is huge; half of the gauges in here are all reading at or near zero now, the other half look like they’re ebbing. I have to believe that the city will reflect that, somehow.”

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“We’ll come back for you!” Thaddeus yelled.

Dellen watched the Nightingale ascend, the frustration and worry welling up in him. He felt a bitter sting as the tiny ship receded into the shadowy abyss above. He didn’t think Thaddeus would abandon him under the city indefinitely. Despite his actions, Thaddeus didn’t seem to want to cross moral lines without reason. Still, it was uncomfortable being left alone under the city, again, with no certain prospect of escape.

His face tightened in annoyance as he watched the last trace of the airship vanish into the darkness. "Right," he muttered, the word echoing in the cavernous control room. "Just perfect."

He slumped against the control panel, the cold metal levers a stark contrast to his heated frustration. He was alone, isolated in a vast, mechanical heart of a city that could grind him into nothing.

He could feel his tiredness catching up to him, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away, leaving a dull, throbbing pain in its wake. He gritted his teeth against it, attempting to stay alert, straining his ears for any noise that might indicate the effects of his actions on the city.

The silence was oppressive, suffocating. He forced himself to move, pacing the room restlessly, his footsteps echoing around him. It wasn't just the physical pain and exhaustion he had to fight, but also the mental strain of not knowing whether his reckless gamble had paid off.

"Should have brought a book," he mumbled, trying to inject some levity into the situation. He had no way of knowing how long he might be stuck in the control room. As the seconds stretched into minutes, then hours, the prospect of being trapped in this metallic womb became a torment all of its own.

With every passing moment, the room’s silence seemed to grow louder, becoming a physical presence around him. The only evidence of his living presence in the deserted control room were the tracks he left behind in the dust, the occasional echoing footfalls, and the heavy sound of his breathing.

After what seemed like an eternity, the oppressive silence of the control room was interrupted by the hum of an approaching airship. Dellen strained his ears, barely daring to believe he was hearing the familiar thrum of the Nightingale’s engines. The sound grew louder, Dellen dashed to the door.

Hanging in the abyss before him was the Nightingale, an astonishingly welcome sight for a ship where he’d experienced so much pain.

"Northcote! By the Makers, you've done it!" Thaddeus shouted, his voice echoing through the cavernous control room. His laughter was infectious, and even in his weakened state, Dellen couldn’t help but crack a weary smile.

The stoic man had been transformed by the success of their mission. The usual stern mask had been replaced by an expression of sheer disbelief and unadulterated joy. It was clear he hadn't expected Dellen to succeed.

"I can't believe it!" Thaddeus yelled from the ship. "We monitored the city's speed. It's decreasing, Northcote! Copperopolis is slowing!"

Dellen felt a profound wave of relief rush over him. “Get closer so I can board,” he yelled to Thaddeus.

Thatch brought the ship closer, Dellen considered his options, then, with a running start, leapt out of the control room. He channeled Electrical Aether to his hands and feet, magnetically pulling himself to the Nightingale.

Dellen’s palms slammed into the ship’s deck; the impact shuddered up his arms, hurting his shoulders and elbows.

“Decent technique,” Thaddeus said, “Works better if you release before landing; once you’re on the right path, sometimes it makes more sense to let go of the magnetic field.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Dellen said.

“You only forged yourself a few hours ago, frankly, I’m astonished you can do that at all.”

“I’ve read a lot of theory,” Dellen said.

“Read a lot of theory,” Gilgamesh laughed, “Still not telling the truth I see.”

“No matter,” Thaddeus said, “The city is slowing!” As he spoke, he gestured with wide, sweeping movements, the light in his eyes brighter than Dellen had ever seen. There was a newfound respect in his gaze, a look Dellen had never expected to receive from the Aetheric Cultivator.

Dellen smiled, feeling tired despite his hours of inactivity. “How long do you think it will take for the Aether around the city to replenish?”

“We’ll have to test it,” Thaddeus didn’t seem concerned, “But that doesn’t matter, we have time aplenty now. Come, come, we need to show you the city. It’s slowing! And it looks magnificent.”

“What about my payment?” Thatch said, with Nessa and Lira looking on with interest.

“You’ll get your payment,” Thaddeus said waving his hand, looking unconcerned, “This is a better outcome, a better outcome by far.”

The Nightingale’s engines hummed with renewed vigor as Thaddeus led Dellen towards the foredeck.

A feeling of anticipation electrified the air around them as the ship ascended, rising through the gargantuan infrastructure of the city's underbelly. Every rivet, beam, and strut passed in a blur as they broke away from the shadowy depths and neared the brighter regions closer to the city's upper limits. Dellen could sense the ascending motion, feel the pull of gravity tugging at him, as the ship moved towards the surface.

Finally, they breached the top layer of the city, emerging into the vast, open expanse of the sky. For a moment, Dellen blinked at the bright of the late afternoon sun after spending so long in the gloomy undercity. But as his eyes adjusted, the sight that met him was breathtaking.

The constant, relentless motion of the city was slowing. The city was still a marvel, its’ metallic structures sparkled as they caught the sunlight, painting a striking image against the backdrop of the blue sky. Buildings, once passing by in a blur, now moved at a languid pace. Dellen could see the disruption was apparent to all, people clustered in crowds and pointed or milled about without purpose. Bridges that should have swung from cog to cog were slower, free of citizens waiting for them to land.

"It's... it's stopping,” Dellen said in awe, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yes," Thaddeus affirmed, standing beside Dellen, his eyes reflecting the city's glory. Tears streaming down his face, expression jubilant.

They watched in silence from the air as the city came to a halt.