The world around him blurred into a thrilling mosaic of brass, iron, and glass. His senses were heightened, and every detail of the scenery below became vivid, yet he remained surprisingly composed.
The sprawling city now rushed up to meet him, its clockwork spires and steam-belching chimneys growing larger by the second. Brass bridges crisscrossed like veins, and the hustle and bustle of the streets took on an ant-like quality. The acrid scent of coal and the rhythmic symphony of machinery filled the air.
Steam-driven airships passed close, their propellers creating a gust of wind that ruffled his coat. Gleaming domes and colossal orreries rotated beneath him, casting intricate shadows on the streets below. The city's metallic brilliance glinted in the sunlight, reflecting a mesmerizing mix of colors and shapes.
The people below, moving about their daily routines, were like intricate clockwork figures themselves, all part of the grand design that was the steampunk metropolis. From his perspective, their lives and stories unfolded as if in a living tapestry.
As Silas continued his controlled descent, the chaotic beauty of the city extended all around him. The symphony of steam and the intricate tapestry of the metropolis played out below, each gear, contraption, and structure a testament to human ingenuity. Every second was a heartbeat in the city's vast mechanism, a canvas of invention and creativity where dreams and machinery coexisted.
The cityscape, once steady and familiar, underwent a surreal transformation. It tilted, twisted, and morphed around Silas as if it were an intricate puzzle determined to change its own shape. The towering buildings, the labyrinthine streets, and the steampunk aesthetics that had defined the city now defied gravity.
With a surreal and disorienting sensation, Silas found himself at the center of a city in upheaval. Buildings rotated like colossal clock hands, their ornate spires and gears creaking and grinding as they adjusted their positions. Streets twisted and curved, reshaping themselves with an almost sentient purpose. The city's intricate mechanisms and architectures shifted, an unpredictable kaleidoscope of metal and steam.
Silas descended gracefully, landing on the bronzed streets of Paradoxia with a surreal elegance that defied the chaos of his fall. It was as though the city had orchestrated his landing, a graceful dance that only he was meant to partake in. His feet made contact with the solid bronze beneath him, and it was a soft, almost ethereal touch.
But what struck him as profoundly unusual was the realization that it was only him who had turned. As he stood on the bronze streets, he looked around and saw that the city had returned to its normal, unchanging state. The buildings were once again steadfast, the streets were straight, and the steampunk aesthetics were static. It was as though he had experienced a surreal, solitary alteration in reality, a brief moment of grace amid a city that remained unchanged.
"Huff… huff… holy shit… that actually worked." Silas wiped the sweat from his brow before standing up amidst a cleared-out crowd. They had watched his fall and upon seeing just how softly he had landed, they rolled their eyes and continued about their day.
He soon became an unassuming part of the urban energy, effortlessly blending in with the people's daily routines. Silas found himself carried along by the throng, curling through the city's winding streets and soaking in the mesmerizing mix of steampunk fashion.
"Ugh… finally…" Silas heaved as he shoved his back against a wall and finally caught his breath. "I hope I lost them."
Click
Silas found himself trapped in a dimly lit alleyway, the bustling streets acting like an impenetrable wall of pedestrians. Just as the chaotic cityscape seemed to close in around him, a policeman slipped through the crowd and into the alley's shadows.
In one fluid motion, he drew his steampunk revolver, the gleaming metal reflecting the flickering gaslights, and aimed it squarely at Silas. The tension in the alley was palpable as the officer's stern gaze met Silas's, and the distant sounds of the bustling city became a mere backdrop to this sudden confrontation.
"I don't want to hurt you, kid, but your price says everything I need to know. I gotta take you in." His finger stayed firm on the trigger, ready to pull. Even though he badly didn't want to shoot a child, if he had to, he would do so, without a second of hesitation. "There's nowhere to run. Don't do anything stupid… please."
'This guy is serious… and this body still isn't ready for stunts like dodging a bullet. I need him to lower his guard somehow and then I can-' Silas's train of thought broke as another idea infiltrated his mind. 'At least I know it works…'
Silas raised his hands slowly, lifting them up into the air. He gestured a surrender, causing the man to lower his revolver and quickly dash behind the kid.
From a steampunk implant revealed through the upper sleeve of his jacket, a bronze wire whipped out, wrapping around Silas in an instant. His wrists had immediately been tied together and in an almost graceful way, Silas was bent slightly forward, allowing the wire to drag his two arms behind his back.
"O' Eternal Sky…" The cop ignored the boy's chant, but what a stupid mistake that was. He had essentially sewn his own death. "... Grant me the particles of your excellence."
In the midst of this tense stand-off, tiny sparks of arcane energy began to flicker in the space between Silas's bound hands. The startled cop took a step back, his steely resolve momentarily shaken. Panic washed over his face, but it was too late.
BAM
In the blink of an eye, he drew his gun and, just as his finger tightened on the trigger, the sparks ignited into a brilliant flash of blinding light. The explosion that followed was instantaneous, a radiant burst of scorching energy. The bullet disintegrated into nothingness, and the cop, caught in the searing blaze of the arcane detonation, let out a harrowing scream as his clothes smoldered and his skin blistered.
He stumbled back, writhing in agony, as the remnants of his steampunk revolver clattered to the cobblestone alley floor. Silas, his hands now free from their metallic restraints, stood there with an air of calm authority. The power of the arcane sparks had not only saved him but had rendered his assailant powerless and defeated.
[You have obtained the Sentinel Skill: [Lesser Explosion - Steelon Pathway]
[Your Body Modification reacts in accordance to your Sentinel Pathway]
"Hard to believe there are kind people in this city. But unfortunately, I can't have witnesses to what I just did," Silas reached towards the man's face as he froze on the ground from shock.
A bead of reluctant sweat rolled down Silas' cheek and with heavily grit teeth…
BAM
"Huff… huff… huff… huff…"
[50 XP]
[You have killed a being of a similar kind]
[This will affect your future pathways]
'You must be unaffected by death. Even if you bring it, or you harbor it, you must remain calm. It happens to everybody. Do not pity. Do not fear,' A voice echoed within the boy's mind, sending a shiver down his spine.
"O' Eternal Sky, let his soul rest in ease."