The hangars rose from the dock like iron cathedrals.
Ryn slowed despite himself, eyes lifting as they approached. Brass-framed arches stretched overhead, each fitted with reinforced steel and runes that pulsed faintly as airships passed beneath them.
Chains thicker than tree trunks rattled overhead as crews hauled cargo into open bellies of each team's airships.
So other teams had the same idea.
The Gremory airship waited three hangars in. Its hull was layered wood and steel, reinforced with heavy iron plates. Above it, a massive gas envelope strained against its bindings.
Even if he'd seen it in the 'future' before, the sight of such engineering always surprised him.
Fritz let out a quiet breath.
"…That's ours?"
Taylor nodded, confirming the question.
Amelia's gaze was sharper, she was already scanning the perimeter—guards, dock officials, church observers standing a little too far back to be incidental.
Ryn barely noticed any of that.
Something was wrong.
