The industrial district of Arkwright loomed before Elias, a labyrinth of soot-stained buildings and towering smokestacks. The rhythmic clang of metal and the hiss of steam filled the air, blending with the acrid scent of oil and coal.
Elias adjusted his coat and hat, blending in with the workers bustling around him. His brass monocle was safely tucked away; he wouldn't use it unless absolutely necessary. As he approached the factory Callum had described, the whispers returned, faint but persistent.
"Closer… Find the truth…"
Elias clenched his jaw and shook off the unease. This wasn't the time to lose focus.
The factory was a sprawling, weathered structure surrounded by fences of rusted iron. A faded sign above the entrance read "Harrison Ironworks." Workers shuffled in and out, their faces smudged with grime and weariness. Elias slipped inside unnoticed, blending with a group of laborers heading for their shifts.
The interior was dimly lit, with gas lamps casting flickering light over the cavernous space. Massive machines churned and groaned, their gears grinding out a deafening rhythm. Elias moved carefully, avoiding eye contact and sticking to the shadows.
He spotted a foreman barking orders from a raised platform and made his way toward a stack of crates nearby, using them as cover.
From his vantage point, Elias observed the workers closely. Most were focused on their tasks, but a few moved oddly, their motions mechanical and jerky. Their eyes were vacant, staring ahead as if seeing something far away.
"Hollow," the whispers murmured in his mind.
Elias's heart quickened. Callum's words echoed in his memory: "They're hollow. Like they've lost something inside."
He needed to get a closer look.
As the foreman turned his back, Elias slipped deeper into the factory. He avoided the main work floor, sticking to the edges where the shadows were thickest. Eventually, he found a door marked "Restricted Access."
The lock was old and rusted—no match for the small set of picks Elias always carried. Within moments, the door clicked open, and he slipped inside.
The room beyond was dark and silent, a stark contrast to the clamor of the factory floor. Elias lit a small lantern and held it high, revealing rows of shelves filled with old tools and ledgers. At first glance, it seemed unremarkable, but the whispers grew louder, guiding him toward the back wall.
There, half-hidden behind a stack of crates, Elias found a trapdoor. The edges were worn, as if it had been used frequently, but the latch was secured with a heavy padlock.
"Interesting," Elias muttered.
He worked quickly, the lock snapping open with a soft click. The whispers surged as he lifted the trapdoor, revealing a narrow staircase descending into darkness.
"Of course," he sighed, descending carefully.
The air grew colder as Elias moved deeper underground, the walls of the staircase damp and rough. The faint hum of Veil energy prickled at his senses, growing stronger with each step.
At the bottom, he found himself in a long, narrow tunnel lined with stone and iron supports. The lantern's light flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced along the walls.
The whispers were louder now, more insistent.
"Closer… Truth lies ahead…"
Elias gripped his revolver tightly, his other hand steadying the lantern.
The tunnel opened into a large chamber, and Elias stopped in his tracks.
Symbols and sigils were carved into the stone walls, glowing faintly with violet light. In the center of the room stood an altar made of dark, polished stone, its surface etched with more runes. Surrounding the altar were tools and artifacts: knives, jars filled with strange liquids, and scraps of parchment covered in the same symbols.
The air was heavy with Veil energy, and the hum in Elias's chest grew stronger.
"What the hell is this?" he muttered.
As Elias moved closer to the altar, he noticed a faint trail of dried blood leading from it to another doorway on the far side of the chamber. The whispers rose to a crescendo, urging him forward.
He hesitated. Something about this place felt wrong—more wrong than anything he'd encountered so far.
The shadows along the edges of the room seemed to move, shifting in the corner of his vision. He glanced around, but nothing was there.
"Keep it together," he told himself, stepping cautiously toward the doorway.
The next room was smaller but no less unnerving. It contained a series of cages, their bars warped and blackened as if exposed to intense heat. Inside one of the cages lay a pile of rags—and bones.
Elias swallowed hard, his stomach turning.
The whispers grew clearer.
"Sacrifice… Power… Open the Veil…"
He stepped back, his breath quickening. Whatever was happening here, it was tied to the Syndicate. And it wasn't over.
As Elias turned to leave, he heard footsteps echoing down the tunnel behind him. He quickly extinguished his lantern and pressed himself against the wall, revolver drawn.
Two figures entered the chamber, their faces obscured by hooded cloaks. They moved toward the altar, speaking in low tones.
"Another shipment arrives tonight," one of them said. "The ritual must be ready."
"And the Lanterns?" the other asked.
"Distracted," the first replied. "The Syndicate will keep them occupied."
Elias gritted his teeth, his mind racing. These were Syndicate operatives, and they were planning something big.
He considered his options. He could confront them now, but he was outnumbered, and the Veil energy in this place was already affecting him. The better choice was to gather more information and report back to Adrienne.
As the figures began preparing the altar, Elias slipped back into the shadows and retraced his steps through the tunnel.
When he emerged into the factory, the clamor of machinery felt oddly comforting after the oppressive silence of the chamber below. He made his way out without incident, blending with the workers as they ended their shifts.
Outside, the whispers finally began to fade, though the chill in his chest remained.
Elias glanced back at the factory, his jaw set. The Syndicate's plans were bigger than he'd realized, and the Covenant needed to know.