They turned down another narrow street, where an old metal sign creaked in the wind:

INVOKE INDUSTRIAL — DECOMMISSIONED PLANT #07.

Merlin froze. His eyes narrowed. "Invoke?"

Elara frowned. "You know them?"

"Yeah," he said after a pause. "They're… a weapons manufacturer. I've had some dealings with them."

He didn't elaborate, and Elara didn't ask. But she caught the way his tone shifted, just slightly. The name seemed to carry weight. History.

The factory's main gates were locked with thick iron chains, rusted but reinforced with faint enchantments. Merlin crouched, pressing his palm against the lock. Mana rippled beneath his skin, a mix of lightning and wind, and the metal vibrated faintly before the chains cracked apart with a soft clatter.

Elara raised an eyebrow. "Subtle."

He gave a small grin. "I can do subtle. Just not tonight."

They stepped inside.

The air changed instantly.

It was heavier, thick with the scent of old oil, rust, and something else. Mana residue. Unstable, sharp, metallic. The kind that crawled against the back of the tongue.

Rows of machinery filled the main hall, long since deactivated. Conveyor belts lay still, covered in dust. Crates stood stacked like forgotten tombstones, labeled with codes that had long faded from relevance.

Elara swept her hand through the air, a faint green glow forming around her fingers as she attuned to the earth's vibration. "There's mana underground."

"Basement?" Merlin guessed.

"Deeper," she said, lowering her hand. "A hidden chamber."

Merlin glanced toward the floor. His eyes flickered gold, and he reached out with his own mana, space rippling faintly as he mapped the area beyond. A faint distortion shimmered beneath them, no bigger than a small room, buried several meters down.

He exhaled slowly. "Got it."

Without another word, he flicked his wrist, and a gust of compressed wind tore through the floor, revealing a narrow metal staircase spiraling into the dark.

Elara gave him a sidelong look. "You really don't like doors, do you?"

"Not when they're in the way."

She smirked faintly but said nothing as they descended.

The deeper they went, the more the air stank of metal and mana.

The stairwell ended in a narrow hallway lined with cold white panels, far newer than anything above ground. Electric lights hummed faintly, powered by something unseen.

"This isn't abandoned," Elara whispered.

"No," Merlin said. "It's active."

They moved cautiously. The hallway bent twice before opening into a large chamber, part laboratory, part workshop.

Dozens of mana conduits glowed dimly across the walls, feeding into a massive crystal core at the center of the room. Its light was unstable, pulsing like a dying star, flickering between shades of blue and violet. Around it, half-finished constructs lay on tables: mechanical frames with humanoid silhouettes, runic carvings along their limbs.

Elara's breath caught. "Are those—"

"Prototypes," Merlin said grimly. "Mana-bound automata. The Veil used them during their early experiments, to replace soldiers. Obedient, tireless, and completely disposable."

Elara moved closer, her fingers brushing one of the cold metal surfaces. "But these are new. The craftsmanship—"

"Advanced," he finished. "Whoever made these isn't just copying the old tech. They're improving it."

A faint sound interrupted them, the hiss of a door sliding open behind the far wall.

Merlin's eyes sharpened. He motioned to Elara silently. They ducked behind a row of crates as footsteps echoed across the chamber.

Two figures entered.

Both wore long black coats marked with the same divided-triangle insignia Merlin had seen before. One carried a clipboard glowing with mana script; the other was typing commands into a console connected to the crystal core.

"…mana stability at seventy-two percent," one said. "If we increase the synthetic yield any further, the conduit might rupture."

The other grunted. "Then reroute the surplus through the host chamber. We'll need the next batch ready by tomorrow."

Host chamber.

Merlin's jaw tightened.

He glanced toward Elara. Her eyes widened slightly, she had heard it too.

Host chamber. That could only mean one thing: test subjects.

The men continued working, unaware of the intruders. Merlin scanned the area, the exit was behind them, the core in the center, and a secondary door to the right, half-hidden behind machinery.

He pointed to it silently. Elara nodded.

They waited until one of the men turned away, then slipped out from behind the crates, moving like shadows toward the side door. The hum of machinery masked their steps. Merlin pressed a hand to the panel, a soft surge of mana, and the lock clicked open with a whisper.

They slipped inside.

The air here was colder.

Rows of glass pods lined the walls, each filled with faint blue fluid. Figures floated inside, human, or close enough. Some looked half-formed, their bodies covered in runic scars that pulsed faintly with mana.

Elara's voice was barely a whisper. "Oh gods…"

Merlin didn't speak. His eyes moved from one pod to the next, then froze on the last one.

Inside floated a young man, pale and unconscious. His body was intact, but his veins glowed faintly with the same synthetic mana signature from before. A small tag at the base of the pod read:

SUBJECT 07 — Starpower Academy student.

Elara's breath hitched. "They're using students."

Merlin's hands curled into fists. "Not for long."

He reached for the console beside the pod. The interface was crude, a mana-coded terminal running security locks. It took him seconds to bypass. The pod hissed, releasing vapor as the fluid began draining.

Elara grabbed his arm. "Merlin, if you do that—"

"He'll die if I don't," he snapped. "The system's feeding off his mana core."

The hiss grew louder, echoing through the chamber. The fluid drained completely, leaving the young man slumped forward, coughing weakly as the glass door opened. Merlin caught him before he could fall, lowering him gently to the ground.

His eyes fluttered open, glazed, unfocused. "…Where… am I…?"

"You're safe," Merlin said softly. "Just breathe."

But before Elara could respond, alarms blared through the lab, red lights flashing across the walls.

"Unauthorized access detected," a mechanical voice intoned.

Merlin grimaced. "Of course."

Elara tightened her grip on her spear. "We've got company."

The main doors slid open again, and armed guards poured in, six of them, each wearing reinforced armor etched with the Veil's sigils. Their weapons crackled with mana energy, rifles designed for suppression.

Merlin stood, the rescued student behind him. Lightning sparked faintly at his fingertips.

"Guess we're skipping introductions," he muttered.

Elara smirked despite the tension. "You always bring me to the most charming places."

He shot her a look. "Remind me to take you somewhere with fewer death squads next time."

Then the guards opened fire.