The transition from the industrial plains to the Weeping Iron-Groves was marked by a sound that did not belong in nature. It was a rhythmic, metallic chiming. Thousands of serrated iron leaves knocked against one another in the biting wind. As Vane stepped past the first line of rusted, petrified trunks, the temperature dropped ten degrees. The air here did not just smell like soot anymore. It carried the heavy, sweet, and dangerous scent of liquid mercury.

Vane adjusted the weight on his shoulder. Mara was stirring. Her breath hitched as the sedative effect of the pressure-point strike began to fade. Beside him, Valerica walked with her hand hovering near the hilt of her weapon. She had not spoken since they reached the treeline. Her eyes scanned the dark, tangled canopy with a mixture of professional focus and lingering resentment.

"You can put her down now," Valerica said. Her voice was quiet, but it cut through the metallic chime of the trees like a blade. "She's awake. You don't need to carry her like a sack of coal anymore."

Vane did not argue. He knelt on a patch of ground covered in grey, needle-like grass and gently lowered Mara to the earth. The girl's eyes snapped open. A flash of amber terror reflected the bruised purple light of the groves. She scrambled back immediately. Her heels dug into the metallic soil until her back hit the base of a weeping iron tree.

"Stay away!" Mara hissed. Her hands flew to her chest. Her fingers were trembling. "I remember you. You're the one from the workshop. You hit me."

"I stopped you from making a noise that would've ended your life," Vane said. He did not move toward her. He sat on his haunches, maintaining a distance that was non-threatening but made it clear he was in control of the space. "My name is Vane. The girl with the violet hair is Valerica. We're currently three miles inside a Grade 4 lethal zone. If you run, the trees will shred your skin before the beasts even find you."

Mara looked at the trees. Her eyes widened as she noticed the way the silver sap, thick, liquid mercury, dripped from the branches. It pooled in the hollows of the roots, shimmering with an invitation that she seemed to realize was toxic.

"Why?" Mara whispered. Her voice was cracking. "Why did you take me? I'm just a glass-smith. I don't have anything you want."

"You have a power that the Empire views as a defect," Vane replied. He pulled a canteen from his pack and tossed it onto the ground between them. "And right now, a Knight-Lieutenant named Gareth is leading a squad of nine mages to find that defect. We're the only reason you aren't in a cage."

Mara did not reach for the water. She hugged her knees to her chest. Her amber eyes darted between the two of them. "You're mages too. I can feel it. You're just like them."

"Not quite," Vane said. He stood up. His gaze was already shifting toward the deeper part of the grove. "They follow orders. We follow an objective. There's a difference."

Vane turned away from them. He left Valerica to handle the girl's fear. He walked toward a particularly large iron tree. Its trunk was twisted into a spiral of rusted metal. He pulled a small, star-metal hammer from his belt and tapped the trunk.

The sound was a sharp, vibrating cling.

He listened to the vibration with his head tilted to the side. Then he moved to a nearby pool of mercury. He knelt to dip the tip of a glass rod into the liquid. He watched the way the mercury clung to the glass, noting its viscosity before glancing at the sky.

"What are you doing?" Valerica asked. She watched him with a growing sense of confusion. "We need to keep moving. The tracking sweep is going to hit this sector soon."

"I'm checking the resonance," Vane said. He did not look back. He moved to another tree. This one stood near a narrow ridge that overlooked a deeper valley. He took a handful of mana-coal dust from a pouch and scattered it into the mercury pool. He watched the way the black grains floated on the silver surface.

"Resonance?" Valerica repeated. She walked over to him. "Vane, this isn't the time for a science experiment. If the Captains catch us in the open, we're done. We need to get to the dungeon entrance."

"We'll get there," Vane said. He stood up and looked at her. His eyes were cold and clinical. "But the dungeon is a cage if you don't know how to open the door. I need you to do something for me, Val. Use your plasma. I want you to burn the metallic brush in a three-meter radius around this specific tree. Don't melt the trunk. Just sear the leaves until they're brittle."

Valerica frowned. Her hand tightened on her spear. "Why? That's just going to create a smoke signal for their scouts."

"Trust me," Vane said. "And Mara? I need you to look at that mercury pool. Can you crystallize just the top layer? Not the whole thing. Just a thin, hexagonal sheet of glass across the surface."

Mara looked at the shimmering silver pool. Her hands were still shaking. "I... I told you, I can't control it. It just happens when I'm scared."

Vane walked over to her. He did not offer a hand. He just looked down at her with an intensity that made the girl flinch. "Then be scared, Mara. Because if you don't do it, the man who burned my home is going to find us. And he isn't going to stop at a carotid pinch."

Mara bit her lip. Her amber eyes filled with tears. She looked at the pool. Her breath came in short, ragged gasps. She reached out a trembling hand. Her S-Rank Authority reacted to the raw terror Vane was intentionally stoking.

The air around the pool hummed. Slowly, a lattice of perfect, transparent crystal began to spread across the mercury. It sealed the toxic liquid beneath a layer of beautiful, geometric glass. It was a perfect hexagonal seal, just as Vane had asked.

"Good," Vane said. His voice was devoid of praise. He looked at the sky again. The bruised purple clouds were beginning to churn. "Val, the brush. Now."

Valerica sighed. Her golden plasma flared around her fingertips as she began to sear the iron leaves. She did not understand the plan. To her, Vane was acting like a madman. He was performing erratic tasks while an Imperial squad closed in. But she saw the way he was looking at the environment. He wasn't seeing a forest. He was seeing a series of variables that he was beginning to adjust.

In the distance, a massive, guttural roar echoed through the groves. It was a sound of pure, territorial hunger. It came from something with more than one head.

Vane's lips curled into a tiny, dangerous smile.

"The host is awake," Vane whispered. "Let's go find our guests."

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