The Land Crawler Mk.I had been driving for an entire day. The original canyon highway had been demolished by the Storm Clan, severing the only land route back to Skyreach. Although the terrain looked suicidal, if we wanted to get this cargo back, we had to summit the Shattered Spine.
As we pushed deeper, the broken plains buckled and rose, transforming into treacherous mountain terrain. But the "mountains" here weren't seated firmly on a foundation; they were stacked atop one another like a cluster of drunken giants, swaying precariously.
Colossal boulders hovered in mid-air, tethered to the ground by thick iron chains or ancient, calcified vines. Fine gravel rained down from above, only to decelerate just before hitting the ground, some of it even drifting back toward the sky.
This was the threshold of the Shattered Spine.
“Alex...”
Lyn’s voice carried a tremor. She gripped the passenger-side handle white-knuckled, pointing out the window. “Are we really driving up that? That rock... It’s at a 45-degree angle!”
Ahead of the windshield, the road simply ended. In its place was a "Sky Ladder" composed of countless floating slabs of granite extending upward into the clouds.
“If we don’t take the ladder, we have to detour for three months through the Death Desert. We don’t have the coal or the water for that.” I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, my voice dropping an octave. “Buckle up. We’re forcing our way through.”
I pushed my glasses up, watching the gravity readings on the dashboard begin to flicker and dance.
“Gravity coefficient is dropping,” I noted, tracking the telemetry. “Good for the engine—less load. Bad for the treads—we’re going to lose friction. We might even... drift off.”
“Drift off?!” Zayla shrieked from the back seat.
As a feline, she possessed a near-pathological obsession with balance. This weightless, floating sensation was making her fur stand on end. I saw her in the rearview mirror, digging her claws deep into the wool carpeting as if trying to weld herself to the chassis.
“Relax, that’s why we installed this.” I reached out and flipped a red toggle on the console.
K-chack—Hiss!
On the roof of the Land Crawler Mk.I, the Pneumatic Harpoon Cannon—which had served mostly as decoration until now—spun into position.
“Brad! Man the turret!” I barked.
“Hell yeah! I’ve been waiting for this!” Brad unbuckled his seatbelt and scrambled into the gunner’s seat like a nimble gorilla, gripping the heavy control handles and pressing his eye to the optic.
“See that massive dark rock a hundred meters ahead? The Anchor Stone. Hit it!”
“Within range, truth is found!” Brad slammed the trigger.
BOOM—!
With a burst of high-pressure air, a wrist-thick steel harpoon trailed by a long braided cable shot out like a bolt of lightning.
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CLANG!
The harpoon buried itself deep into the floating granite.
“Winch engaged!” I pulled a lever. The heavy-duty winch at the front began to spin at high RPMs, the cable snapping taut. Assisted by this massive tensile pull, the Land Crawler’s slipping treads regained their bite. The steel beast began to crawl up the tilted sky-path like a mechanical beetle scaling a cliff.
“Wooo-hoo!” Brad yelled from the turret. “This beats any roller coaster!”
The excitement, however, quickly curdled into a threat. As we climbed into the cloud layer, the radar screen suddenly flared with a cluster of red dots.
“Something’s coming.” Zayla’s ears snapped toward the left. “The sound... It’s like the wind, but with a rhythmic beat of wings.”
Not griffins. Griffins were heavier. This sound was lighter, denser—like a thousand razors slicing through the air.
“Aether-Rays!” Lyn screamed in terror. “They live in the low-gravity zones! They eat metal! They’re attracted to the heat of the steam engine!”
A dozen flat, translucent blue silhouettes dived out of the mist. They looked like manta rays swimming through the ocean, but larger, with wingspans exceeding two meters. Arcs of electricity flickered along their edges, and their long tails lashed out like whips.
Zzzzt-CRACK!
An Aether-Ray dived, latching its body directly onto the Land Crawler’s scorching exhaust pipe. It began to frantically absorb thermal energy and metal ions like an addict feeding a habit.
“Hey! That’s my exhaust pipe!” If Salak were here, he’d be having a heart attack.
“Get it off! It’s corroding the armor!” I watched the armor durability warnings plummet.
“On it!” Brad tried to swing the turret, but the ray was stuck to the vehicle's side. Using the harpoon would be suicide.
“Zayla! We need a combo!” Brad yelled. “I’ll open the hatch, you kick it off!”
“Are you insane? We’re hundreds of meters up!” Zayla snapped.
“The car has magnetic treads! You won’t fall! Go! Before the exhaust pipe explodes!”
Zayla gnashed her teeth. “I... hate this trip!”
She kicked the side door open. WHOOSH! The high-altitude winds roared in. In this 0.5g environment, Zayla felt light as a feather. But she was a cat. And a cat is the master of agility in any gravity.
Just as the Aether-Ray was about to bite through the pipe, a grey blur flashed. Zayla gripped the door handle with one hand, her body swinging out in a perfect arc. Her tactical boots, carrying the momentum of her drop and the explosive power of the feline race, slammed into the glowing monster.
“GET OFF!”
THUMP!
The kick was surgical. The Aether-Ray let out a piercing screech and was sent flying off the hull. But it wasn't over.
“Brad!” Zayla screamed into the wind.
“Copy that!”
The moment the ray was airborne, Brad—having already predicted the trajectory—slammed the trigger. POW! Another harpoon shot out, skewering the Aether-Ray mid-air and pinning it to a nearby floating rock.
“Beautiful!” Brad laughed.
“Don’t celebrate! There’s a swarm!” I roared. “Hold on! I’m boosting through the anomaly!”
I floored the accelerator. The boiler emitted a groan that bordered on its mechanical limit, and the pressure gauge slammed into the red zone. The Land Crawler Mk.I was no longer climbing—it was leaping. Like a berserk bull, it dragged its snapped cables, smashed through the mist, and crushed floating debris, charging through the swarm toward the summit plateau.
RUMBLE—!
As the treads slammed onto solid rock, the nauseating feeling of weightlessness vanished. Normal gravity returned. I slammed the brakes, and the chassis skidded for a dozen meters before finally coming to a halt on a wide terrace.
Everyone slumped in their seats, gasping for air.
“We... we made it?” Lyn clutched her scattered ledgers, her face pale.
“Not yet.” I unbuckled, pushed the door open, and stepped out.
The air here was thin, cold, and heavy with the scent of ozone. I stood at the edge of the cliff and looked down. The mist was behind us. But ahead, the main peak of the Shattered Spine finally revealed its true face.
It wasn't a mountain. It was a gargantuan, hollowed-out Floating Mine.
Massive chunks of Floatstone were crudely chained together to form an aerial archipelago. Upon those islands, a forest of scaffolding, smoking furnaces, and thousands of figures laboring under the lash created a portrait of industrial hell. And at the highest point of the mine, a massive banner snapped in the wind.
On the banner was a golden eagle clutching a lightning bolt. The Storm Clan Outpost.
“Seems Old Gob’s intel was a bit outdated.” I pushed my glasses up, the lenses reflecting the distant fire of the furnaces. “This isn't just an outpost. These bird-men have hollowed out the entire mountain and built it right across our only path home.”
I pointed to the single tunnel passing through the heart of the mine—the only way down the other side. It was blocked by heavy gates and a small army of guards.
“That’s not a mine. That’s the most expensive toll booth in the world. Want to go home? It looks like we’ll have to kick this obstacle out of the way first.”
Question of the Day: How should Alex handle the Storm Clan "Toll Booth"?
(Click to choose)
?? A) Stealth Operations: Infiltrate as "Supply Merchants."
Result: Sneaky, sneaky. Use the soap and peppermint oil to bribe the lower guards and plant "surprises" in the boiler rooms.
?? B) The Big Boom: Sabotage the Gravity Anchors.
Result: Chaos Theory. If the chains break, the whole fortress floats away into the stratosphere. Problem solved (with a lot of screaming bird-men).
?? C) Full Throttle: Ram the Gates.
Result: The Engineer's Choice. Attach the harpoon to the gates, put the engine in reverse, and let 500 horsepower do the talking.
Follow and Rate for more industrial madness!