Being Charlese, I was strolling through an aisle of workbenches cluttered with metal and rubber parts spread out across their surfaces.
Iron cogs of all sizes, were being pushed into metal pin-boards by elderly workmen in tanned allover suits that covered their bodies from neck to ankle like one big rice sack. Their heads were kept ambiguous with their uniformed flat caps branded with the Illuminate's crescent moon motif.
"Is the quota on target?" The question came out of my mouth to an elderly workman with a grey beard, hammering in a set of cogs to a pin-board. His wrinkly hands that was filthy with dirt and grime.
"Aye, Milady," he timidly answered, bowing his head lower to hide his face.
"Do not disappoint if you want to see your family again." I harshly reminded the man before carrying on down the aisle and eventually entering into the steel works of the manufacturing line.
The constant banging on steel jarred my eardrums. I readjusted my tie to ease the discomfort I felt from the rush of heat coming out of steaming cauldron and kettledrums with loud hisses. My nose tickled from the stench of iron mixed with sweat and grim.
The group used woman to mould the metal parts as their hands were more suited for detailed work. Their children were quick to move cooled parts to the elderly men of the assembly line. I stared at the woman and children, taking note of their tanned overalls and long-sleeved shirts. Their identities were also obscured under their branded flat caps. No one made small talk or moved unnecessarily; they worked silently like machines.
It was satisfying to see. This meant that High King Sirius's quota was going to meet the projected target as per plan. A minor hiccup occurred before me when one of the manufacturing boys tripped at my feet. He dropped a tray carrying valuable cogs all about the dirty concrete floor. I hoped that some of them weren't nicked out of shape. Today had been going so well too.
The boy bowed low with apology and scurried about to regather the parts back to the tray. He managed to retrieve all the parts, but he was still in my way.
I gestured for him to place the tray on the bench without dropping it. He compiled and made a noise when I pulled out my gun.
"Turn around," I ordered the boy.
He slowly turned. I shot him in the back with a shrill bullet, making him implode into glitter before all the workers of the manufacturing line.
"Let this serve as a warning. Do not miss your quotas. Definitely, do not make any error in front of me again!" I threatened them, screwing up my nose at the glitter scattered near my gleaming black boots. "Someone, clean up this mess."
The workers continued with their tasks, acknowledging my orders with obedient nods.
I sighed and left the area, making my way up a set of grilled metal stairs and a viewing platform.
The view from the top showed the outlay of an enormous open warehouse that was split down the middle; onside was the manufacturing process lines, a massive telescope supported on an oversized dolly cart took up the remaining space.
The telescope was a glorious creation of gold, iron and bronze with silver-glass dermaleech material trimming edges and forming a pattern of the Sol constellation on the front lens. Its cylinder body was enormous enough to punch a clean hole through the warehouse's wall. In place of the lens viewing area was a miniature planetarium machine balanced on shimmering winged platforms, which flanked either side of the body near the declination setting circle. The back end viewing area was a triangular prism, propped up by two mirrored flaps to resemble a large portspell.
YOU ARE READING
"I'll find a way to save my brother. Do whatever the hell you want. I'm stealing your guns." Famine is a man determined to save his three brothers after they were tragically separated when a magical fire destroyed their monastery home. He finds him...