The White Raven cruised high above the cloud layer, leaving the jagged white teeth of the Northern Ice Shelf behind. The ship was battered, its hull scorched by plasma and dented by ice, but the engines hummed with a defiant rhythm.
In the ship's cramped medical bay, which had been converted into a makeshift workshop, the mood was somber.
On the metal operating table lay the Void Walker Mask.
It looked innocuous—a simple, smooth faceplate of polished silver porcelain. But to Julian, it felt like a bomb. Even sitting there, inert, it seemed to suck the sound out of the room. The hum of the ventilation fans sounded quieter near it. The drip of a faucet sounded muffled.
"It's not just a radio," Skid said, adjusting a magnifying lens over her good eye. Her broken arm was in a sling, but her fingers were flying over a sensor pad. "It's a quantum dampener. The material... I think it's compressed ash from the Aether refinement process. It absorbs vibration."
"It eats noise," Julian corrected. "And Resonance is noise. That's why they use it against me."
"So why keep it?" Isolde leaned against the doorframe, cleaning her harpoon gun. "We should toss it out the airlock. It's a tracker."
"Skid jammed the output signal," Julian said. "They know where it is, roughly, but not exactly. And right now, the Empire thinks I'm buried under the prison rubble or dead in the ice."
He reached out his crystal hand, hovering it over the mask.
"I need to know what they're doing next. The Titan woke up. The Empire is going to panic. Panic makes them dangerous."
"You want to wear it?" Lyra asked, her voice sharp with worry. "Julian, that thing connects to the Void. It drives people insane. That's how they make the assassins."
"I won't wear it," Julian said. "I'm going to hack it."
The Interface
Julian pulled up a metal stool and sat in front of the mask. He placed both hands on the table on either side of it.
"Clear the room," Julian ordered.
"No," Lyra crossed her arms. "If you start drooling or bleeding from the eyes, I'm pulling the plug."
"Fine. But stay quiet. Absolute silence."
Julian closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, centering himself. He twisted the Black-Iron ring, opening the floodgate of his power just a crack.
He didn't push energy at the mask. That would just be absorbed. Instead, he tried to match its frequency.
He visualized Zero.
He imagined a room with no walls, no floor, no air. He imagined a sound so low it ceased to be a vibration and became a vacuum.
Sync.
His mind slipped.
The medical bay vanished. The smell of antiseptic vanished.
Julian was floating in the Void.
It was a dark, featureless ocean. But it wasn't empty. It was filled with whispers. Millions of them.
...Sector 4 secure... Target eliminated... Silence Protocol active...
It was the hive mind of the Silence. Every active agent, every listening post, every mask was connected here. It was a terrifying web of surveillance.
Julian navigated the darkness. He felt like a lit match trying to hide in a room full of moths. If he flared up, they would find him. He had to be cold. He had to be quiet.
He searched for the loudest whisper. The command frequency.
He found it. A voice of pure, cold authority.
General Elias Thorne.
"...Report status on the Glacial Sovereign."
A second voice answered—synthetic, distorted.
"Titan 05 is active. A Level 10 Shield has been established. We cannot penetrate the barrier with current firepower."
"Abandon the North," Elias commanded. "It is a lost cause. The Conductor has played his hand. He will seek the next Lock."
Julian held his breath in the void. Where? Where do you think I'm going?
"Projected trajectory suggests the Southern Continent," the synthetic voice continued. "The Jungle Belt. Titan 06."
"The Verdant Walker," Elias mused. "If he wakes that one, the overgrowth will consume the agricultural sectors. We will starve."
"Orders, General?"
"Initiate Protocol: Scorched Earth. Mobilize the Incinerator Corps. Deploy Project: Chimera. Burn the jungle to the ground. If we cannot hold the Titan, we will destroy the ecosystem it protects. Find the Conductor. And this time... bring me his head."
The connection spiked.
"Alert. Foreign signal detected. Sector: Unknown. Identity: Dissonant."
The Void turned red. The whispers turned into screams.
FOUND YOU.
A psychic backlash slammed into Julian. It felt like a sonic boom going off inside his skull.
The White Raven
"Julian!"
Julian gasped, jerking back from the table. The mask flew off the surface, hitting the wall with a dull thud.
Blood trickled from Julian's nose. He grabbed the edge of the table, heaving for air.
"I got it," he wheezed. "I got the order."
"You were screaming," Lyra said, wiping the blood from his face with a cloth. "For a full minute. You weren't breathing."
"They're going South," Julian said, his eyes wide. "To the Jungle. They aren't going to try to secure the prison this time. They're going to burn the whole forest down before we get there."
"The Incinerator Corps," Isolde cursed. "Those maniacs use liquid napalm. They'll turn the Emerald Expanse into charcoal."
"And something else," Julian added. "Project Chimera. I don't know what it is, but Elias sounded... confident."
Skid picked up the mask with a pair of tongs and dropped it into a lead-lined box.
"So, we're racing a bunch of arsonists to a jungle," Skid summarized. "Standard Tuesday."
"We can't take the Raven," Isolde said, walking to the map on the wall. "She's an ice-breaker. Her hull is reinforced for crushing, but her cooling systems are built for sub-zero. In the jungle humidity? The engines will overheat in an hour."
"We need a new ship?" Lyra asked.
"No," Julian stood up, wiping the blood from his lip. "We need a refit. And we need a shortcut."
He pointed to the map. Between the Northern Ice Shelf and the Southern Jungle lay a massive, sprawling continent of industrial ruin.
The Rust-Sea.
"We have to cross the Rust-Sea," Julian said. "It's the heart of the Scavenger lands. There's a settlement there—Iron-Port. It's a neutral zone. We can trade the gold we stole from the courier for parts. New cooling systems. Jungle camo."
"Iron-Port is a wretched hive of scum and villainy," Isolde grinned. "I have some friends there. And by friends, I mean people who haven't tried to kill me in at least a year."
"Then set a course," Julian said. "We have to beat Elias to the trees."
The Captain's Quarters (Isolde's Cabin)
Later that night, Julian couldn't sleep. The hum of the Void was still echoing in his ears.
He went to the observation deck. The White Raven was flying over the transition zone—the snow was giving way to grey, dead earth.
Lyra found him there. She didn't say anything, just handed him a mug of synth-coffee.
"You're pushing too hard," Lyra said softly. "The ring, the Titan, the mask. Your hand..."
She looked at his crystal hand. The blue geometric patterns had spread past his wrist, creeping up his forearm. The veins were glowing.
"It's growing," Julian admitted. "Every time I use Resonance, the corruption spreads. Brother Cadence said I'm a bridge. Bridges get walked on."
"We'll find a way to stop it," Lyra said fiercely. "After we win."
"If we win."
Julian looked out at the dark horizon.
"Elias called me 'The Conductor'. He thinks I'm leading this orchestra. But I'm just reacting to the noise, Lyra. I need to start writing the music."
He clenched his fist. The crystal hummed.
"In Iron-Port... I'm going to build something."
"Build what?"
"A weapon," Julian said. "I can't always rely on waking up giants. I need something that amplifies me."
He looked at Lyra.
"Because if Project Chimera is what I think it is... a giant wrench isn't going to cut it."