Swords of Gilded Crimson

Chapter 47 | A Solo Feat |

My heart was pounding hard against my chest, as I crept into that darned place again. The mechanical whirring only grew as I went further on; not quite helping my anxious state. Doing this alone, even if only for a task as simple as this, changed the entire game.

Thankfully, the workers from earlier had cleared away by the time I arrived at the transmission lines again. Despite it, each minute passing made the threat feel excruciatingly more real. With no one to glance at for assurance or doubt, it was almost akin to stumbling through the dark; working out what was to come was a feat in itself.

The only other openings were the were three, narrow passages leading outwards of the transmission chamber, including the one from which I'd arrived. The workers had come in from the one to my right. I supposed their carrying of various tools could possibly be a sign in the right direction, so I took the first tentative steps out of the passage I was in, and impended towards theirs.

First to encounter was only the metallic stench of the four walls. But as I went on, a new scent at last emerged to mix with it. Vaguely, it was like the earthly scent that surfaced when rain fell on dry soil. It was warm, and strong in the way that it entwined, and swarmed around the smell of metal- until it practically engulfed it. My first sign that I was advancing underground.

I kept wary of any indications of possible explosives, remembering the blueprints I'd found in Phillip Astor's quarters back in the Manor House. But I found consolation in the idea I then realised- the explosives would only be a risk until I reached the generator, which they wouldn't dare to keep any too close. Not if running the fast-moving metropolis above us, was any key objective.

After a half hour or so of furtive stepping, I could almost make out the other end of the passage. It was easy, when seeing how the chamber of what I assumed was the step-up generator, was lit with blazing white beams all around. And in it, came the obvious patrol of guards, as well as workers to be mindful of. How was I supposed to figure out the workings of the generator when fifty or more loitered there, judging by the sound of it?

As my mind raced, I found myself feeling for the hidden baldric I had strapped under my leather tunic. The guards may be trained, but it was a likely bet I could take them. Somewhere far in my mind, I almost felt Nikolai's irksome nagging on the morality of what I was about to do.

I gripped tighter one of the long daggers I'd unsheathed from the baldric, as I deliberated between the moral high and low grounds of the task at hand. It was pathetic what I landed on, but I reassured myself with the idea that it was necessary to cut my work short; the workers, after all, would know better the workings of the generator than I could hope to decipher- with the nuisance of the police officials still above.

Along the sidelines of the entrance, I covered my scent and waited until the pattern of the guards patrol allowed an opening. The dagger was still clutched firmly in my grasp, but I stalked up to the chamber with a different plan in mind. I had but only a few seconds to gauge who was the chief worker within the underground chamber, owed to the reckless decision of striding into its glaring limelight. It was too late to retract now, but evidently, it didn't take long to discern the one barking orders about various operations, and undertakings regarding a colossal structure machine that droned on in the centre of it all. It embodied innumerable cogs and gears, of which there were workers consistently adapting the windings.

To my luck, he was but a metre away from the entrance, and I was able to stalk up to him fairly easily. One guard attempted to jut in, but was quickly deterred from the slash my dagger made across his abdomen. Using the moment's hesitation it brought to his fellow guards on patrol, I soon had my dagger hovering close to the chief worker's neck, by having closed in on him from behind. Once done, a few daring guards, along with a couple workers inched for an immediate rescue, if only to nullify their inability to have stopped me from reaching him in the first place. But I only edged my blade closer to his frail, thin human skin, and they backed away soon enough.