The ruins breathed, in a way the should not have.
The Titan they were inside was dead.
So not like a living thing—no rasp of lungs or pulse of blood—but in the way old stone sighs when it settles, or how rusted gears groan when forced to move again.
The air was less oxygen and more Blight, a oily haze that clung to Kael’s tongue and made every breath taste like licking a battery.
Lira tugged her Duskwyrm cloak tighter, the iridescent scales repelling the worst of the corruption. Without it, her skin would’ve blistered by now.
Kael didn’t bother with his. The Blight here felt... familiar. A static hum in his veins, not quite pain.
"Remind why we’re doing this again?" Lira muttered, picking her way through a corridor choked with crystalline fungi. The growths pulsed faintly, reacting to their presence.
"The Heart," Kael said.
"Right. Infinite power, untapped glory, blah blah. You ever think maybe so things should stay buried?" She kicked a loose stone, sending it clattering into the dark.
Sothing skittered in response.
Kael’s hand drifted, ready to summon his sword.
"Quiet."
"Or what, you’ll—oh."
The corridor opened into a vaulted chamber, its walls ribbed with corroded pipes and teeth-like protrusions of Etherite alloy. And there, in the center, stood the first automaton.
---
It wasn’t like any machine Kael had seen.
Twelve feet tall, its body a patchwork of Celestial bronze and Blight-corroded flesh, the automaton lurched on mismatched legs—one skeletal and jointed like a spider’s, the other a slab of muscle fused with grinding pistons.
Its "head" was a faceless orb split by a jagged seam, inside which a pulsing core glowed sickly green.
Lira let out a low whistle.
"Well. That’s not terrifying at all."
The automaton turned, its core flaring. A beam of Blight-tainted energy seared the ground where they’d stood seconds earlier. Kael yanked Lira behind a collapsed pillar, the stone sizzling where the beam grazed it.
"Disruptor," he said.
"Working on it!" She fumbled with the vial of glowing green liquid, hands steady despite the tremor in her voice.
"These things—they’re not tech, not really. The old one’s grew them, like... like at puppets wired to obey. Blight’s probably all that’s keeping it running."
Another beam carved through the pillar.
Chunks of stone rained down as Kael rolled clear, Aether’valis blazing to life. He lunged, the sword’s edge biting into the automaton’s leg—and screeching off the bone-tal beneath.
No damage.
"Told you!" Lira ducked a swinging arm, vial raised. "Brute force won’t—"
The automaton backhanded her into a wall.
Kael moved without thinking. He caught its next strike mid-swing, muscles straining as the machine’s force vibrated through his bones.
"Now, Lira!"
She lobbed the disruptor.
The vial shattered against the core, green liquid splashing across the Blight-energy. The automaton froze, shuddering, its core darkening to an ashen gray. With a final, grinding whine, it collapsed.
Lira slumped against the wall, clutching her ribs.
"You’re... welco."
---
They harvested the core—a knotted mass of veins and Etherite—and pressed deeper.
The ruins twisted around them, architecture defying logic. Staircases led nowhere. Hallways looped back on themselves. Once, they passed a mural etched with Celestial script, half-eaten by mold.
Lira traced the symbols.
"It’s a warning," she said. "’The Titan’s pulse guides the unworthy to ruin.’ Cheery."
Kael said nothing. The whispers here were different. Sharper.
Hungrier.
They’d just navigated a chamber of suspended gears (rusted silent, though Kael swore he felt them watching) when Lira froze.
"Down."
She dragged him into a crevice as Iron Pact scouts filed into the room—three n in blackened armor, their faces hidden behind rebreathers, stopping the Blight from entering their nostrils.
One knelt, scanning the floor.
"Tracks," he growled. "Recent."
Lira’s breath hitched. Her hand found Kael’s arm, grip tight. The scouts were close enough he could sll the stale Etherite on their gear.
*...kill them...feed the Null...*
He silenced the voice.
Minutes stretched. Finally, the scouts moved on. Lira exhaled.
---
They found a cramped alcove to rest, the walls oozing black sludge that slled like burnt hair. Lira rummaged through her pack, producing a dented flask. She took a swig, grimaced, and offered it to Kael.
"Rotgut Etherite. Tastes like despair, but it’ll keep you warm."
He declined.
"Suit yourself." She leaned back, boots propped on a cracked gear. "First heist I ever pulled? Was a vault belonging to so faction of an old world. Got in easy—tripped every alarm on the way out. Lost three teeth, a boot, and my dignity. My partner? Got turned into a plaster on the wall." She smirked. "Still got the boot, though. Sentintal value."
Kael stared at her.
"What? Never heard a joke before?"
"That’s not a joke."
"Sure it is, my partner set up for the loot. The punchline’s ’don’t trust a guy in shiny armor.’" She flicked a pebble at him. "Co on, corpse. Give a smile. I’ll fra it."
He didn’t. But sothing in his chest tightened.
---
The pressure plate clicked softly beneath Lira’s foot.
"Ah-fuck"
Stone groaned. The walls began to close, ancient chanisms screaming to life. Blight-sli rained from the ceiling as the corridor narrowed, inch by inch.
Lira dropped to her knees, probing the floor with her lockpick.
"Vent. Here!"
Kael ripped the grate free, revealing a tunnel streaked with glowing acid sludge. Lira gagged.
"You first."
They crawled. The sludge seared through Kael’s sleeves, but his skin healed faster than it burned. Lira wasn’t so lucky—her cloak smoked where the acid dripped through.
"Almost... there..." she gasped.
The vent opened into darkness. Kael dropped first, landing in a crouch. Lira tumbled after, colliding with him. They lay tangled, breathing hard.
Above, the walls slamd shut with a final, deafening crunch.
Lira wheezed.
"Absolutely disgustingly vile heist so far, eh?."
Kael stood, hauling her up. The chamber ahead glowed faintly—not with Blight, but with cold, clean Etherion.
The chamber swallowed sound.
Kael’s boots sank into moss that wept black fluid with every step, the air clean but heavy enough to choke on.
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