The city hummed with the low, rhythmic grind of machinery. Gears turned unseen, pistons hissed as steam curled through vents, and the metallic scent of oil hung in the air. This was Solace City, a place where humanity had traded its mortality for mechanical bodies and endless time a shimmering utopia on the surface, but Kael Veyron knew better.
He wiped his hands on a grimy cloth, smearing oil streaks across his already stained overalls. The small repair shop was silent save for the quiet whir of servos from the Clockwork lying on the workbench before him. Its human features were nearly flawless: synthetic skin stretched over a metal frame, dark lashes framing closed eyes. A mockery of life.
Kael twisted a screwdriver, tightening the last bolt. "You're good to go, Mrs. Dorne. Should run smooth for another hundred cycles."
The Clockwork on the table opened her eyes perfectly human, except for the faint glow in her irises. She smiled with mechanical precision. "Thank you, Kael. My husband always said you were the best."
Kael forced a grin and handed her the activation key, a small hexagonal chip. "No problem. Just don't let the joints lock up again. These older models don't handle stress well."
As Mrs. Dorne left, her joints clicked softly with each step, a reminder that beneath the synthetic skin and the facade of life lay nothing but gears and circuits. Kael's gaze lingered on the empty doorway long after she had gone.
Kael leaned back against the counter, letting out a breath. It had been years since the transition to Clockwork bodies had become mandatory. They called it "Ascension" a way to escape the frailties of flesh, to preserve the mind indefinitely. For most, it was a gift. For Kael, it was a curse.
He reached for a small photo frame sitting on a cluttered shelf. The image was faded, edges worn from years of handling. A younger Kael stood beside a girl with dark, unruly curls, both grinning at the camera Alina.
The memory hit him like a wrench to the chest. Alina had ascended five years ago. It was supposed to be a seamless transition a way to preserve her mind after a rare illness had ravaged her body. But something had gone wrong. Her Clockwork body had malfunctioned, and Alina's consciousness had been lost forever.
"Ascension," Kael muttered, setting the frame down with a hollow thud. "Nothing but a damned lie."
The shop door creaked open, interrupting his thoughts. A wiry teenager stumbled in, clutching a dented Clockwork arm under his jacket. "Kael! You gotta help me!"
Kael frowned. "Keep your voice down, Ren. What is it now?"
Ren pulled out the arm, its joints sparking erratically. "This is from one of the Echelon units patrolling the docks. I… uh… borrowed it."
"Borrowed," Kael echoed dryly, snatching the arm from the boy's hands. The Echelon's enforcers were ruthless, and tampering with their units was a surefire way to disappear.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?" Kael hissed, turning the arm over. It was heavier than standard models, reinforced with plating he hadn't seen before. He flipped open a panel, revealing a cluster of wires and circuits glowing an unnatural blue.
"What the hell is this?"
Ren shrugged. "I thought you'd know. Look, I can take it back if...."
"No." Kael's voice was firm. "This isn't just some arm. This tech… it's not from the standard line. It's experimental." He set it on the workbench, the gears in his mind already turning. "Where exactly did you find this?"
Ren hesitated. "It was in a crate marked for the Upper Spires."
Kael's gut tightened. The Upper Spires were reserved for the elite, far above the grime and chaos of the lower levels. If this arm was destined for them, it meant one thing this wasn't just an upgrade. It was something far worse.
Kael worked late into the night, dismantling the arm piece by piece. Each layer revealed more secrets hidden microprocessors, encrypted data clusters, and a faint energy signature that pulsed like a heartbeat.
Finally, he reached the core. A small, crystalline sphere sat nestled within the machinery, glowing softly. As Kael stared at it, a strange sensation washed over him. For a brief moment, he thought he heard a voice not audible, but in his mind. A whisper, faint and fleeting.
Help me.
Kael jerked back, his heart pounding. He glanced around the empty shop, but no one was there. Just the arm, disassembled on his workbench, and that crystalline core, now dark and lifeless.
He rubbed his temples, trying to shake the feeling. It had to be his imagination. Too many late nights, too much stress.
But deep down, Kael knew better. Something about that arm, that core it wasn't just machinery. And whatever it was, it was only the beginning.