The next morning, Scrapveil smelled like rain and burnt metal.
Smoke still curled from the crater where the corrupted Warden had fallen. Rustfang stood silent beside it, like a titan resting after centuries of war.
Rayan sat on a rock, wrapped in a torn blanket, staring at his trembling hands. The adrenaline was gone, but the pulse was still there — faint, echoing in his chest.
Lyra was crouched beside Rustfang's leg, scanning the mech with her wrist device.
"Half your neural circuits were fried," she said, "and your energy readings are unstable. You shouldn't even be awake right now."
Rayan forced a laugh. "I've been told that about myself, too."
"Pilot functions within acceptable limits," Rustfang rumbled. "Minor biological fatigue detected."
Lyra sighed. "Minor? He passed out for three hours straight."
"Recovery achieved. Mission parameters fulfilled."
Rayan smiled weakly. "See? I'm a natural."
They spent the rest of the day dismantling what was left of the Warden.
The mech's body was half-melted, but Lyra found something embedded deep inside its chest — a black crystal sphere, cracked and pulsing faintly.
"This shouldn't exist," she murmured. "These are Pulse Cores, but… corrupted. It's like the energy's been twisted."
Rustfang's eye flickered.
"Residual code detected. Origin: The Abyssal Forge."
Lyra frowned. "The Forge? That's just a myth."
"It was real," Rustfang said. "The place where mechs like me were born — and where the corruption began."
Rayan looked at the sphere in her hands. "So whoever made that thing… they're still out there?"
Lyra nodded grimly. "If the Forge survived the Collapse, then yes. And if it's active again… the world's in trouble."
That night, while Lyra examined the core fragment, a low hum filled the workshop.
The crystal floated from the table, projecting faint holographic light.
A voice — distorted and ancient — echoed through the room.
"To those who yet breathe… the Pulse has fractured. The world engine stirs. Seek the City of Veins… or all will turn to rust."
The image flickered out. The sphere shattered into dust.
Rayan blinked. "Well. That's not ominous at all."
Lyra's eyes were wide. "The City of Veins... That's a myth older than Ardentia itself. It's said to lie beneath the mountains — a place where all energy in the world converges."
"Destination confirmed," Rustfang said. "Coordinates partially recovered."
Rayan sighed. "So, let me guess. We're going on a field trip?"
Lyra smiled faintly. "Looks like it. Pack your nerves — and maybe some actual food this time."
At dawn, the sky blushed gold over the scrap hills.
The people of Scrapveil gathered silently as Rustfang powered up again, engines humming like thunder. For the first time in years, they looked not at junk — but at hope.
Rayan climbed into the cockpit and looked down at the town he'd once called a prison.
Now it looked small. Fragile.
Lyra hopped onto Rustfang's shoulder, gear pack slung across her back. "You ready, pilot?"
He smirked. "I was born ready. Just… not for this specifically."
"Navigation set," Rustfang said. "Next destination: the mountains of Elderspire."
As the mech began to walk, the wind carried whispers across the valley — rumors of the relic's awakening spreading like wildfire.
Far above, in the clouds, a small aerial drone hovered silently. Its single lens glowed crimson as it recorded Rustfang's movement.
Inside a distant fortress, the same figure from before watched the feed.
His armor was black steel etched with red runes, and his face hidden behind a mask shaped like a fractured cog.
"So… the Pulse has chosen another pilot," he murmured.
"How poetic. The age of Relics begins again."
He turned to his subordinates — five armored silhouettes kneeling in the darkness.
"Send the Wraith Units. I want the boy alive — and the Core Pulse intact."
The shadows rose as one, vanishing into the mist.
Rustfang strode across the plains, every step shaking the earth.
Rayan felt the rhythm of the Pulse again, stronger now — not just energy, but something alive, calling to him.
He looked at Lyra through the cockpit glass. "You ever wonder what the world used to be like?"
She smiled softly. "Sometimes. But maybe we'll see it again."
He looked ahead, toward the mountains glowing in the distance.
"Then let's find the City of Veins… before someone else does."
Rustfang's engines roared, echoing like a heartbeat across the world.
The journey of steel and soul had begun.