Chapter One Hundred Seventy-Eight: ‘To a place of prospect...’

It took a few more hours, but indeed, just as Garovel had said, one of the servants discovered Capaporo. Unfortunately, Hector was not that servant. It was Manuel Delaguna, which meant that Hector had to go all the way back to the reapers and then all the way to Manuel.

It gave him a lot of time to think, particularly about how much he hated running. Eventually, when his lungs began to feel like they were both exploding and collapsing with each new breath he took, Hector decided to stop running and start relying on his materialization to carry him.

Hector used the opportunity to practice something he’d tried previously back in Gray Rock. He made a seat for himself and pushed it onward. It wasn’t nearly as difficult as it had been before, though he didn’t attribute that to his most recent emergence. While the emergence might’ve certainly been helping, the biggest difference was that he wasn’t currently in the middle of a city full of innocent bystanders. The path here was straight, more or less, and he didn’t have to worry about running into anyone.

So he could really just let rip. He pushed his iron chair as fast as he could get it to go--which, he discovered, was actually quite fast indeed. It was easily faster than he’d ever gone on a motorcycle. Being able to just shoot the iron forward in a straight line without holding back--that really was the key difference.

But it still wasn’t nearly as fast as he’d managed to make his orbiting discs go. Granted, those went so fast that he completely lost control of them, but still. It seemed a strange difference. He felt like this should have been able to achieve speed like that, so why wasn’t it?

Was his own body weight a factor in it? Or perhaps it was simply a problem with his own perception? Was he limiting himself subconsciously, maybe? It was one thing to make something move that fast; it was another to try to make himself do it. Maybe it was some sort of natural, self-preservation instinct that he had to overcome.

He would be a little surprised if that was the case, though. He wasn’t sure how much of that instinct he actually possessed. There was a time when he would’ve thought he didn’t possess it at all, but he’d come to realize that he did have it at least a little. It was almost impossible to fight seriously without a sense of self-preservation, Hector figured.

So maybe that was the problem. Maybe he just had to let go of his brain’s very natural and rational fear of going way too fucking fast.

Easier said than done, though. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to go about that.

Even with all the time he had to test things out, he didn’t find a solution. And when he made it back to the reapers, Zeff was already there waiting, and Diego arrived not long after. The Lord Elroy didn’t hesitate to carry everyone with him. They all shot forth on a wave of ice, moving much closer to the speed that Hector had been trying to achieve.

It was so quick, actually, that Hector’s vision went briefly gray, then black, and he felt like he may have lost time and consciousness for a bit.

Which might’ve answered his earlier question, he figured. He couldn’t materialize iron that pushed himself at such a speed that he began to lose consciousness, because the second his focus began to fade, his materialization would no doubt begin to wane.

But Zeff was obviously doing it just fine, which was probably thanks to the man’s passive soul defense being so much greater than Hector’s.

He wondered if there might be some way to make up for the difference in soul power with only his materialization skill. And of course, there was still the matter of that drilling technique that Zeff had showed off, too. Hector definitely wanted to try that out, soon.

All in all, it gave Hector plenty to mull over as they rushed toward Capaporo, even if he had to battle to keep his own thoughts clear in his mind. Garovel, for the most part, seemed content to leave Hector to his half-conscious deliberations, apparently finding something to talk about with Axiolis and Yangéra.

Hector couldn’t tell how long it took to catch up to Manuel. It was all a bit of a blur by the time his head finally began to clear again, and he found himself already walking on his own two feet.

He concentrated on trying to regain his bearings. According to movement in the air, there was a lot of... empty space around him. Similar to the last cavern they’d been in, he supposed. The walls were too far away for him to sense them.

But the ground ahead was different, he noticed. There was a very steep drop off, like that of a cliff, almost. He searched for greater detail and sensed a narrow staircase far to his right.

‘--ector?’ came Garovel’s echoing voice.

He opened his eyes, not even sure when he’d closed them. The reaper was right there in front of him. ‘Yeah?’

‘You okay there, buddy?’

‘Y-yeah...’

Garovel’s bony face twisted a little. ‘Did you tune me out again?’

‘N-no.’

‘Yes, you did.’

‘...Yes, I did. Sorry. Didn’t mean to.’

‘How does that even--?’ The reaper’s private words were cut off, however, when Diego Redwater’s voice interrupted.

“What’s the best way to go about this?” he said, seemingly to everyone, though he was standing next to Zeff near the edge of the cliff.

Hector decided to join them and discovered a view that was not what he was expecting.

‘Cautiously,’ advised Axiolis. ‘I know that may not be our forte, at the moment, but if our kin are truly being held prisoner like Hector said, then jumping in without thinking is a good way of getting ourselves captured, too.’

As he listened, Hector couldn’t help marveling a little at the sight of what must have been the entirety of Capaporo. He hadn’t sensed the city at all before seeing it, and now he had an idea of why that was.

It sat in a giant hole. And at the moment, Hector was standing above it, right on the edge. The countless lights of civilization shone like stars in an otherwise pitch black night, not so much illuminating the hole as simply revealing its shape. A massive cylinder, going straight down.

At the bottom of the hole, Hector noticed discernible shapes in the darkness. Buildings, he supposed them to be. They must have been enormous for him to be able to make them out at this distance. Perhaps that was Capaporo’s metropolitan area--a “downtown,” in multiple senses of the word.

“First things first,” said Zeff. “Can any of you tell where our people are?”

‘Not me,’ said Garovel. ‘I’m searching, but there are a lot of souls down there in very close proximity to one another. It’s tough to tell them apart.’

‘I am struggling as well,’ said Yangéra. ‘We need to get closer. I don’t think they should be very difficult to sense. Assuming they didn’t get separated, they’ll all be in one big group. We just have to locate a recognizable cluster of souls.’

“How do we even get down there to start looking?” said Diego. “I have a feeling we’d make a bit of a scene if we just jump and splat our way down.”

Hector supposed that was his cue. He moved toward the staircase that he’d sensed earlier. “Over here.”

When the others drew close enough to illuminate the stairs with their lamplights, Diego blinked a couple times and then turned his light on Hector in order to assess the young lord from Atreya.

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“How did you spot this?” the man said.

‘Don’t tell him,’ said Garovel privately.

Hector didn’t need reminding, but he also didn’t know what to say instead. ‘You want me to lie to him?’

‘If you can make it sound both convincing and benign, then yes.’

That was a tall order. Too tall, Hector immediately decided. “I can’t tell you,” he said plainly. “It’s a... trade secret, I guess. Sorry.”

Diego regarded him with a raised eyebrow but said nothing.

‘Taking a page out of Asad and Qorvass’ book?’ said Garovel, again privately.

It was true. That was basically what Qorvass had said to him and Garovel with regard to the functionality of the Shards as powerful catalysts. That felt like quite a while ago now, though. Hector had to wonder if Qorvass might be a little more forthcoming with that information, if they asked him again.

Something to worry about later, he supposed.

The group made their way down the staircase with Zeff leading the way. Thankfully, it had a guardrail, so the drop off wasn’t quite so terrifying as it could have been, but Hector certainly couldn’t say he was enjoying the feeling. It was barely wide enough for them to descend in single file.

They soon arrived on an open street, which wasn’t all that much wider, really. The architecture here made Hector gawk, partly out of simple curiosity and partly out of genuine bafflement. On this street, the houses--assuming that was what they were--were not actually on the street. At least, not in the traditional sense. Instead, the houses were suspended above the street, attached to the wall of the great hole.

After a while, though, he supposed the placement of these buildings made sense. The street was narrow enough already, and perhaps it was easier to simply suspend the houses in midair like this than to widen the road--or worse, suspend the houses over the side of the cliff. That seemed like it would be insanely dangerous, especially with how deep this hole went.

The party continued downward, which proved to be a more difficult task than it seemed. After one more instance of struggling to find another staircase leading down, Zeff decided to let Hector take the lead, and even then, it was slow going. On top of not wanting to rush into a bad situation and make it worse, the reapers were also scanning the area constantly, deliberately taking their time with trying not to miss anything.

‘There’s definitely someone strong in this city,’ said Garovel after a while.

‘Yes,’ said Axiolis. ‘Someone near the Salesman’s level of strength, unless I am mistaken.’

‘Sounds about right,’ said Yangéra.

It was a bit early to tell, of course, but Hector supposed that person would be the “lost sheep” whom Rasalased had mentioned.

He had no idea what they were going to do about that. He really didn’t want to deal with another person of that caliber, but he probably wasn’t going to have much choice, he figured.

As they started reaching the middle tiers of the great hole, the streets began growing wider, and Hector noticed small tunnels and caverns in the wall where more buildings were hiding--even entire side streets. He started seeing many, many more people as well--all of whom were Hun’Kui.

Unlike the Hun’Kui in Babbadelo, however, these ones were not usually wearing goggles, and even less frequently did they appear to be armed. Most of them looked like they were too busy with one thing or another to even give a bunch of surface-dwellers a moment’s glance. The way they carried themselves seemed somehow fundamentally different, Hector thought. A kind of a weary resolve, perhaps, like someone who was on their way to do something that they didn’t really want to do but knew that they had to.

Hector had seen the like before in high school. Hell, he’d felt the like before in high school.

When they finally began to reach the lower tiers, however, the sights changed even more significantly. Tall, metal tubes ran lengthwise along the roads, and at first, Hector wasn’t even sure what they were, until he saw a train pass through them. It wasn’t nearly as large or as loud as the ones he’d ridden previously, but it was especially noteworthy to him because he thought he spotted a few regular humans through its windows as it passed.

And indeed, the other areas of the lower only served to confirm that notion for him. The streets became more complexly interconnected, digging into the wall and diverting off into enclosed spaces. Hector and the others even encountered one street which was entirely enclosed and significantly cooled.

Hector was able to comfortably remake his armor into a non-cooling variant. He drew a few looks from the apparent residents, as they were not even wearing climate suits, despite looking like normal human beings.

The cooled street branched off into several others just like it, Hector saw. He noticed enormous sliding doors at each intersection, and even though they currently stood open, Hector had a hunch as to their purpose. They were probably supposed to seal shut in the event of an emergency. If something went wrong on one street, then the rest of them wouldn’t be compromised, too.

An interesting concept, Hector thought. The people here probably used it to help deal with heat leaks or whatever, but he could imagine it being used militarily as well, like to defend against or perhaps even trick a force of invaders.

Hmm.

At length, though, he had to ask Garovel the obvious question. ‘How did all these people from the surface get down here?’

‘They probably aren’t actually from the surface,’ the reaper told him privately.

‘What?’

‘These people were probably born here.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yep. While Hun’Kui are the most common to see out in the open, the Undercrust has always had a rather sizable population of people who aren’t at all resilient to the extreme temperatures. And as technology has improved, I imagine that population has only grown.’

‘Huh...’ Hector recalled Garovel mentioning something to that effect before, but he was still having a rather difficult time believing it, quite frankly. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how to articulate that disbelief into a comprehensive line of questioning.

‘What a place to grow up in, huh? Gives a new meaning to the idea of an “indoor kid” when going outside means being roasted alive.’

Hector could hardly imagine it. Granted, he and the others had passed two checkpoints when they entered this area, but those checkpoints hadn’t looked very well guarded. One of them was empty, and the other had a guy who seemed more interested in the book he was reading than in what they were doing.

‘Didn’t we hear that there was some kind of civil war going on around here?’ said Yangéra.

‘Some kind, yes,’ said Axiolis.

‘So why do all these people seem so relaxed, then?’ she said.

‘It must not have affected Capaporo very much yet,’ said Axiolis.

‘And perhaps it never will,’ said Garovel. ‘Historically, cities in the Undercrust have been notoriously isolated from one another, even after its comparatively early invention of locomotives.’

‘That is true,’ said Axiolis.

‘Still,’ said Yangéra, ‘this does strike me as rather odd, especially considering the level of strength that we are all sensing, right now.’

‘Hold on a second,’ said Garovel, and he stopped, which made everyone else stop, too. ‘I think I sense our friend Roman.’