Kael and Lira scrambled to their feet, disoriented but unscathed. Lira, still catching her breath, looked down at Kael with a grin, a mixture of disbelief and triumph on her face. “I can’t believe we actually did that,” she said.

  Kael nodded. “Yeah, and I’m so happy you’re safe,” he said.

  His eyes flickered to Lira’s ears, which were still bleeding from the spell in the grand room. She reached up instinctively, touching the blood, the pain evident on her face..

  Lira raised a hand to gesture that she couldn’t hear him, pointing at her ears. She shook her head, a rueful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Kael smiled back, despite the heavy weight pressing on his chest. He had hoped for freedom, the very purpose of this war. He had hoped to explore the outside with Lira by his side, though that dream was crushed.

  They lost the war.

  Kael turned his gaze back to the battlefield, the relentless fae crushing the golems. Kael watched as bursts of fire and lightning lit up the sky, flashes of power as they unleashed their fury on the remaining machines.

  They sat in the Skull-Spider, as its spindly mechanical legs creaked, speedily crept back to Avaris’s square. The spider limbs scraped against the ground as the machine settled where the Factory tower had once stood, the imposing structure lost in the aftermath of the battle.

  Avaris, his granite visage impassive, came down the stairs, with Lorran and Borota at his side. They stood silent, their eyes down to the floor. Kael stood nearby as they turned round the stairs, his slimes gathered back to form a shifting cape that settled comfortably on his shoulders.

  “Down,” Avaris said.

  The words hung in the air. The tension between Avaris and Kael had not dissipated. There was no trust between them, no respect or brotherhood.

  They followed the path down, an elevator shaft descending through the bowels of the Factory. The gears whirred as they moved, the sound of grinding metal filling the space. As they descended further, Kael felt the temperature rise. The air grew thicker with the heat of forges and furnaces that burned beneath the Factory’s core. The machinery around them hummed with life, and the faint glow of molten metal poured from the forges, shaping new golems to replace the ones that had fallen in battle.

  "This is merely a small speed bump," Avaris said. "My golem army will be reforged. They will rise again, and we will strike again. The fae have shown their strength, but they lack the tenacity to outlast us."

  Kael couldn’t help but feel the weight of Avaris’s words. There was a certain cold logic to them. The golem army had been shattered, but not destroyed. Avaris’s relentless drive to rebuild, to reforge his forces, was what made him dangerous. For the fae and for other Masters.

  They reached the lower levels of the Factory, the air growing heavier as they moved further into the heart of Avaris’s domain. Kael glanced around, noticing that they had passed forges, gears and cogs. They were deep within a cavern.

  Kael couldn’t help but ask, “Where are we going?”

  Avaris didn’t look back as he continued forward, his eye focused ahead. "To the heart of my square. I need to stop the Wallbreaking Ritual. It allows us to escape the square but it allows the fae to invade without a need for keys. I cannot allow that."

  The group finally reached a giant door with Titanus Prime standing guard. The heavy, mechanical footsteps of Titanus Prime echoed in the hallway as it moved from the door, its massive form filling the space. With a grinding of gears and a soft hiss of steam, Titanus Prime opened the door to the chamber within.

  Kael walked in, followed closely by Lira. They were not expecting what they had seen.

  At the center of the room stood a massive crystal, pulsing with an eerie, unnatural light. Its glow was sickly, casting long shadows across the chamber. In front of it, Rova stood with a few other Masters, their eyes vacant, their mana being drained away by the crystal.

  "Stop!" Kael shouted.

  Avaris stepped forward,and with a single raised hand, he muttered a quiet incantation, barely audible. The glow from the crystal flared for a brief moment, then ceased. The drained Masters, including Rova, collapsed to the floor in exhaustion. Rova’s face was ashen, his body trembling, barely alive.

  “Rova!” Kael gasped, rushing towards his fallen friend.

  Rova opened his eyes slowly, his face filled with fatigue. His voice was barely a whisper. “It... it was too much.”

  Kael looked at him with anger and disbelief. His gaze turned to Avaris, standing at the far end of the room, watching with an almost detached interest. Kael could feel the weight of the question pressing on him.

  “Why?” Kael asked. “Why would you do this?”

  “Why? You are asking me why? You, who have spent your days locked away in a square, away from the rest of the world. You really thought you could escape all of this without power? Without sacrifice?”

  Avaris let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “I gave my golems, my machines, my creations. Rova here… He gave his mana.”

  “Gave his mana?” Kael said. “If the war lasted longer, if we didn’t return to stop the ritual earlier, Rova could have died.”

  “You still don’t understand, do you?” Avaris replied. “You don’t understand sacrifice. You don’t understand the need for sacrifice.”

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  Before Kael could respond, Rova, pale and weary, managed to croak out a word, his voice barely audible, but clear enough to stop the conversation.

  “I agreed...” the Master said. “I agreed to give my mana... It was my choice. I knew the risk. I knew the price.”

  “There you have it,” Avaris said, turning toward Kael with a smile that was more chilling than reassuring. “I got everyone to agree. Everyone knows their part in this grand design. Now... let’s plan our next attack.”

  Kael held his breath, stunned by Rova’s confession. He had expected Avaris to deceive his conclave, lie, or bribe them, but for Rova to willingly agree left Kael shaken to his core. He raised his gaze to Avaris, now convinced that the Gearsmith would be his doom—if Kael did nothing.

  Deep down, Kael knew he couldn’t engage in a debate of ethics with the granite Master and expect a satisfactory outcome. So he aimed where it would hurt the most. At his ego. Kael would question Avaris’s strategies for the war and its failures, placing Avaris’s leadership in question.

  Lorran, the Master with the many flexible arms, however, had spoken up first, drawing Kael's attention. Lorran, the one who had always been quick with his arms but slow with speech, was uncharacteristically honest.

  “The moving siege weapon is cool and all,” Lorran began, his voice still carrying the weight of his usual hesitations, “but aside from throwing golems at the fae, today didn’t really have a plan.”

  "Instead, with Kael’s plan, we almost managed to w—”

  Before Lorran could finish, the room erupted into violence.

  Borota, his enormous cleaver raised high, brought it crashing down with unbridled fury. The strike was so fast, so unexpected, that Lorran barely had time to react. He dodged the blow with a swift, graceful motion, but his arm wasn’t fast enough.

  One of his many arms was caught by the sheer force of the blow, severed clean from his body. The scream that tore from Lorran’s throat echoed through the chamber, filled with pain and disbelief. Blood poured from the wound, staining the ground beneath him.

  Kael’s blood ran cold as he saw Borota step forward, his hulking half-mechanical figure looming over the fallen Lorran. There was no hesitation in the steps. He advanced, ready to finish what he had started.

  Kael’s instincts kicked in. He didn’t think. He just acted.

  He moved forward, his body placing himself between Lorran and Borota, his Ice Sickle raised high. His grip was firm as he stood his ground. The cavern felt cold, in contrast to the heat of the forges, but Kael felt clarity, a certain confidence that he was doing the right thing.

  Borota’s gaze shifted to him, unflinching, his cleaver in his hand. But Kael wasn’t afraid. He would stop Borota. He had to.

  Avaris’s voice rang out, cold and mocking, from his position on the throne. “It would be such a pity if Kael dies to Borota today.” The words were casual, almost dismissive, as if Kael’s life were no more than an afterthought in Avaris’s mind.

  And then, Avaris’s cold command sliced through the air. “Lira,” he called, his voice smooth as silk. “Help Borota.”

  Help him.

  Kael’s gaze snapped to Lira, his heart pounding in his chest. He had expected her to side with him. After all, she had been his ally, his companion through the toughest moments of their journey. But now, as she stood there, her expression unreadable, Kael wasn’t so sure. He could see the conflict in her eyes. He could see the struggle between loyalty to her master and the connection they had.

  Lira looked at Kael, then at Borota, then Avaris, then back at Kael again. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty, but she made her decision in that instant.

  Without another word, Lira stepped forward, standing protectively over Lorran’s prone form, mace raised. Her eyes locked onto Kael’s, and though her gaze was heavy with the weight of her choice, she didn’t hesitate.

  Kael’s heart skipped a beat. Lira had made her choice. She had chosen to stand by him. She had chosen him.

  “I’m not your puppet, Avaris,” Lira said.

  "Thank you," Kael whispered, the words barely escaping his lips.

  Avaris stood at the far end, his single eye narrowed with cold fury. “This is a mutiny,” Avaris said.

  “You would stand against me, Kael? You would turn on the conclave, take Lira by your side and become the Conclave Master?”

  Kael stared into his single eye, unshaken. “I don’t want to lead the conclave. I don’t want to work with subordinates. And I don’t take advantage of my friends.”

  “You’re naive, Kael. A fool,” Avaris said, his eye twitching. “But there’s a way to make this right. Bow. Apologize for your transgression, and you may be forgiven.”

  Kael, in that instant, reached for his arm. His fingers grazed the gear brand that marked him as part of the conclave. A reminder of him joining, the initial camaraderie, the feeling of belonging. A lie.

  His orb appeared beside him and Kael lifted it with both his arms.

  “I want to leave this conclave.”

  A portal began to materialize behind him, glowing with a shimmering light of magic. As the portal gained shape, the brand on his arm disappeared.

  He turned away from Avaris, heading towards the portal. And as he took the first step towards the shimmering light, another figure appeared behind him.

  Three Arms, followed by Gerry. They stepped forward as if they had always been a part of this moment, their presence unannounced yet perfectly timed.

  Three Arms, with his high pitched voice, said “Bye!”.

  Gerry, ever the jester, gave a nonchalant shrug. “Sorry, Avaris. Urm… Lord Avaris,” he said, his tone light and almost casual, “but it looks like we’ll be following Kael now.”

  Avaris’s eye widened in disbelief at the betrayal of his golems, his constructs. He turned to face Lira, his last supporter. Her mechanical wings twitched, and for a moment, Kael saw the conflict in her eyes. She had been loyal to Avaris, given everything for him—but now, the loyalty had shifted.

  Lira took a step forward, her fingers brushing the brand on her arm before she brushed the edges of her harness. The mechanical wings on her back trembled, their glow dimming as she unstrapped the harness, letting it fall to the floor with a metallic thud. She released her massive mace, landing on the floor with a thud, and then, one by one, she discarded the gifts of her past: the jewelry, the bracelets of giant strength. Each piece fell away, as if shedding the weight of her servitude.

  “I want to leave this conclave.”

  She held up her orb and just like that, the mark disappeared.

  A portal emerged behind Lira, the same shimmering light of Kael’s portal. Kael met her gaze for a moment before turning away. They didn’t need to speak. The decision had been made.

  Lira turned and walked into her portal.

  Kael stepped into his portal, followed closely by Three Arms and Gerry. The portal closed behind them and the Clockwork Assembly was left behind.

  Kael reemerged from the portal, the familiar sight of his square greeting him. The gray, oppressive barrier that had surrounded the square when he was away had melted into the calm, familiar blue.

  “Skrindle, where are you?”

  “Well, well, look at you, back in the square like a proper Master. How can I help?” the imp said, his usual mischievous grin on full display.

  “I need to form a conclave.”

  ******

  Square: Unknown

  Master: Kael

  Difficulty: Introductory

  Conclave: None

  Treasure: 1020 Gold

  Residents: 4 Ice Slimes Lvl 1

  8 Green Slimes Lvl 1

  1 Green Slime Lvl 2

  24 Will-o-wisp Lvl 1

  1 Steel Golem (Strength Specialization) Lvl 3

  1 Steel Golem (Complexity Specialization) Lvl 3

  Kills: 10 (Ready For Ascension)