The air in Sky City hummed, thick with the ambient roar of the distant, unseen waterfall – a constant, deep resonance that filled the void left by its evacuated populace. This pervasive sound paradoxically amplified the emptiness as the team trod the wide, eerily pristine avenue. Towering structures of chrome and obsidian clawed at the heavens on either side, their countless windows dark voids reflecting the ambient light, like eyes staring into nothingness. The city sounded alive, yet the utter lack of movement, the absence of even a single stray echo of life beyond the waterfall's thunder, created a profound and unsettling stillness.
Kin, ever the youngest, moved with a barely contained vibrancy, his head darting left and right, eyes wide, desperately trying to catalogue the impossible vistas. He lagged slightly, neck craned back to trace the elegant curve of a sky-bridge miles above, then spun to admire the intricate, waterless basin of a grand fountain sculpted from moonstone. The sheer scale, the silent grandeur juxtaposed with the omnipresent roar of water – it was a dizzying sensory overload.
Their path converged on the monumental base of one of the three titanic pillars that seemed to pin the sky in place. Set into its smooth, dark metallic surface was an unexpected relic: an old-world elevator crafted from rich, dark wood, its large panels fitted with thick, beveled glass. Polished brass fittings gleamed subtly. Flanking the wooden shaft, heavy counterweights slid within separate, reinforced glass housings, their cables disappearing into complex mechanisms above. With a low, mechanical whir that harmonized surprisingly well with the waterfall's drone, the wooden car began its elegant descent. It slid smoothly down the pillar's face, the polished wood catching the ambient light, eventually coming to rest before them with a soft thud and the gentle hiss of hydraulics.
Kin, who had been mesmerized by the swirling light patterns projected onto the avenue floor, startled slightly as the elevator arrived. Its antique charm, a stark deviation from the city's hyper-modern aesthetic, instantly snared his curiosity. He leaned forward, eyes tracing the grain of the wood and the shine of the brass as the polished wooden doors slid silently open.
Inside, the elevator car was luxuriously appointed, paneled in the same dark wood, the air smelling faintly of polish, machine oil, and the ever-present ozone tang of the city. Soft light emanated from subtly integrated panels in the ceiling, casting a warm glow. The Master, a figure of quiet authority within his concealing hood, gestured with a minimal nod. "Sye," his voice was calm, easily audible over the muted roar filtering in from outside, "if you would please."
Sye, moving with her usual quiet competence, stepped towards the control panel – a burnished brass plate set into the wood. Her fingers found the largest button, engraved with the city's triple-pillar insignia, and pressed it firmly. A low, resonant hum vibrated through the wooden floor beneath their boots as the elevator began its smooth, surprisingly rapid ascent.
Through the large glass panels, the first tier of Sky City fell away, a breathtaking panorama of illuminated structures, intricate skyways, and the distant, shimmering edge of the massive lake that fed the falls. Kin pressed close to the glass, his reflection ghosting over the incredible view, his earlier awe returning with renewed force. He turned from the window, his brow furrowed with a mixture of wonder and confusion, addressing the Master. "Master," he asked, his voice earnest, youthful, "Why is Sky City so... much more... than anything we have on the surface?"
The Master continued to gaze out at the unfolding spectacle, his tone level, almost academic. "This city serves as the primary hub for the most accomplished, the most powerful Raiders in the territories. Consequently, staggering levels of investment were channeled here – resources poured into creating an environment that would attract and sustain them." He paused, allowing the implication to sink in. "Those Raiders, in turn, are the ones equipped to brave the deepest, most hazardous levels of the Dungeon beneath us. They retrieve artifacts and materials of immense value," his gaze seemed to dip momentarily, towards the city's unseen foundations, "which then fuel our entire economic structure."
Kin's eyes widened slightly, his expression flickering from simple amazement to dawning understanding. He processed the words, connecting the opulent reality surrounding them to the dangerous necessity described.
Before he could respond, Tiren shifted his weight, his heavy boots thudding softly on the wooden floor. He drew himself up, squaring his broad shoulders and tapping his armoured chest with his knuckles – a dull, metallic thump. A grin, fierce and brimming with self-assurance, spread across his face. "And we're the ones risking our lives down there," he declared, his voice resonating with conviction in the enclosed space. "thats why we get the best the surface could provide." He radiated a palpable sense of earned status.
With a soft whir and a barely perceptible slowing, the elevator slid to a halt. The polished wooden doors opened onto the summit level promenade, revealing an expanse of gleaming obsidian flooring that reflected the soft, diffused light filtering from far above. The roar of the waterfall was noticeably softer here, mingling with the quiet hum of sophisticated environmental systems. The grandeur felt even more refined, yet the profound silence of absent life remained, creating a strangely sterile beauty.
The team stepped out onto the cool, polished surface.They began to walk along the platform's edge, the drop revealing the first layer of the silent city below, fading into the atmospheric haze that veiled the distant world. Far across the breathtaking panorama, near a cluster of modern buildings, a persistent, rhythmic pulse of intense orange light flared – sharp, unnatural, starkly contrasting with the city's cool palette. Yet, absorbed in the majesty before them, their focus guided by the Master's purposeful stride, the distant warning signal flashed unseen, its significance lost in the spectacle.
After traversing a short distance along the promenade, the Master slowed his pace, his steps becoming deliberate. He came to a smooth halt before the darkened, reinforced glass façade of a high-end weapons emporium. Its sign, sculpted from gleaming chrome and subtly backlit, cast a faint, cool glow on the polished floor before it.
The heavy glass door of the weapons emporium swung inward with a silent, counter-balanced grace, revealing an interior that seemed spun from gold and legend. A hushed reverence permeated the space, smelling richly of cured leather, exotic wood polish, and the faint, metallic tang of exceptional steel. Sumptuous carpets, the colour of clotted cream and feeling impossibly soft even through their boots, muffled their steps. Warm, honeyed light bathed the room, emanating from hidden fixtures that made the polished wooden walls and display cabinets gleam like treasure chests.
Within these cabinets, resting on velvet or suspended by unseen wires, lay an arsenal that defied belief. Swords with hilts sculpted like mythical beasts, their blades shimmering with latent power; axes etched with runes that seemed to writhe in the ambient light; daggers sharp enough to sever moonlight. Gauntlets of articulated plate, chased with electrum and inlaid with gemstones, lay beside sleek vambraces of obsidian alloy. Dominating the centre of the room, atop a sturdy oak table and encased within a crystal-clear protective box, rested a longbow. Its limbs were crafted from a pearlescent, layered material, intricately textured and humming with contained energy. It looked less like a weapon and more like a piece of captured starlight.
The Master paused just inside, his hooded gaze sweeping the opulent, empty chamber. Senen, standing near Kin, offered a subtle nod, a flicker of anticipation in his usually placid eyes – he knew what this place offered, what the Master intended.
"Your weapons," the Master commanded quietly, his gloved hand outstretched.
Sye, ever efficient, presented her bow and slender sword without a word. Kin, still absorbing the sheer extravagance of the deserted shop, fumbled momentarily with his sword's harness before handing it over. Tiren relinquished his spear with a grunt, his expression a mixture of trust and curiosity. Senen watched his companions, a faint, knowing curve to his lips as the Master collected the armaments.
Holding the collection carefully, the Master moved towards a doorway at the rear of the shop, disappearing into the shadowed back room, presumably a workshop or private armoury. The door clicked softly shut behind him. Almost immediately, faint, intermittent pulses of deep violet light began to leak from beneath the door and through the keyhole, painting fleeting, eerie patterns on the polished floor of the main room.
Kin edged closer to the backroom door, his gaze fixed on the rhythmic violet flashes, fascination clear on his face. Sye remained poised and watchful. Tiren leaned against a display case, arms crossed, radiating impatient readiness. Senen stood quietly, his expression unreadable but hinting at his awareness of the process unfolding behind the closed door.
After several minutes, the violet light abruptly ceased. The backroom door opened, and the Master emerged. He carried their weapons, which now seemed subtly transformed. He approached Kin first.
"This is yours now, Kin," he stated, presenting the sword. It pulsed with a faint internal light. "It is now an A-class weapon. However," the Master's voice remained steady, "it will only perform at the level of a B-class until your own capabilities mature."
Kin reached out, mesmerized by the blade's newfound aura, his fingers tracing the almost invisible energy crackling along its edge. The Master's qualifying words finally registered, pulling him from his trance. He looked up, bewildered. "Wait... what? Why would it do that?"
The Master regarded him patiently. "This is uncommon and often overlooked, as most Raiders never bridge such a significant gap in equipment potential versus personal level. Weapon classification signifies potential, not inherent output. To wield an item at its designated class, the user must possess a minimum base level. Until that point, its performance scales down to align with the handler's present skill."
Kin's gaze glanced between the Master and the sword, comprehension slowly dawning. "So... what class will it really be for me... right now?"
"Your current level is in the thirties," the Master replied factually. "Therefore, in your hands, it will function as a C + rank weapon."
The impact was visible. Kin's shoulders slumped, the initial awe evaporating. The sword suddenly felt less like a legendary artifact and more like a demanding challenge, its point dipping towards the luxurious carpet as he held it loosely in both hands. "Aww, man," he mumbled, crestfallen. "It's only one rank higher."
Ignoring Kin's lament, the Master turned to Tiren. "Your spear," he declared, offering the weapon. "I have advanced its classification from B + to A +."
Tiren accepted it with a grunt of appreciation, his large hands instantly finding their familiar grip. He gave it an experimental rotation, feeling the improved weighting and the thrum of power now residing within the shaft. A grin of genuine satisfaction spread across his face. "My thanks, Master."
Finally, the Master approached Sye. He seemed to pause fractionally before presenting her bow and blade. "Yours were already formidable A-rank items," he said, his voice carrying a touch more gravity. "They are now S-rank."
Sye's composure momentarily slipped. Her eyes widened, reflecting the golden light with sudden intensity, a genuine sparkle animating her features as she carefully retook possession of her familiar weapons, now radiating an almost blinding aura. Behind her, the reactions were stark. Kin let out an involuntary gasp. Tiren staggered back half a step, his jaw dropping, pure shock washing over his face.
"S-rank?" Tiren stammered, his voice strained with disbelief. "I... I've never heard of any weaponsmith capable of upgrades beyond A-plus! Master... How did you manage...?" His question died in his throat as the Master answered calmly.
"Only Senen," the Master acknowledged his teammate with a slight turn of his head. "and our fallen comrades were aware of this. I discovered this unique skill during a deep exploration mission, down near the 40th floor of the Dungeon. I possess the capability to elevate equipment to S-class." He held up a hand preemptively. "And before you ask, the process is draining. I can only achieve this twice per week, and it requires access to specific catalysts and focusing apparatus – resources I was able to utilize in the back room here."
Tiren stared, his shock slowly melting into profound respect, awe replacing disbelief. He straightened, his gaze fixed on the Master. "Ah," he finally managed, shaking his head slightly. "Knowing you... having an ability like that doesn't surprise me."
The Master accepted the sentiment with a brief nod, then addressed them all, his tone shifting back to decisive command. "Listen closely. We face battles ahead in the levels below. Rest is crucial." His gaze swept over them, taking in their expressions, their newly enhanced arsenal. "We will stay in one the nearby residential towers for the night. Conserve your strength. Tomorrow, we enter deeper into the Dungeon."
Leaving the weapons emporium behind, the team walked at a more relaxed pace through the illuminated, empty avenues towards the residential towers, the constant rush of the waterfall a backdrop to their quiet procession. As they rounded a corner, approaching a designated public terminal near a block of potential inns, a persistent pulse of orange light caught their attention. It wasn't erratic, but a steady, rhythmic illumination from the terminal screen. Drawing nearer, the light resolved into sharp text against the dark display: "MESSAGE FOR: SENEN".
Senen stopped short, a ripple of surprise momentarily disturbing his calm features before he smoothed them over. He stepped up to the console, his usual composure firmly in place. "A message... for me?" he murmured, mostly to himself, his finger hovering over the 'OPEN' icon on the touch-sensitive screen. With a soft beep, he selected it, the team waiting patiently a few steps behind him.
The text scrolled onto the screen. Senen read. And then, he simply… stopped. He became utterly still, rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on the words displayed before him. His shoulders, usually relaxed, tensed almost imperceptibly.
The Master, ever observant, was the first to register the profound shift. "Senen?" he asked, his voice quiet, taking a step closer. He reached out, placing a hand gently on his friend's upper back – a rare gesture of physical contact. His own eyes scanned the message over Senen's shoulder. A shadow seemed to cross the Master's unseen face beneath the hood; his posture stiffened slightly, and when he spoke again, his voice was low, heavy with sudden sadness. "Oh..."
Later, they occupied the vacant lounge of a chosen inn. Deep brown leather couches offered comfort they couldn't quite feel. Overhead, a large, multi-faceted crystal chandelier cast warm, yellow light across the room, reflecting softly off the polished wooden floor visible between intricately patterned, symmetrical carpets. The air was still, carrying only the distant sound of falling water.
Senen sat slumped on one couch, his head bowed low, his hands clasped loosely between his knees, staring sightlessly at the floor. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable.
Sye leaned slightly towards Kin on the adjacent couch, nudging his arm gently with her shoulder. Her voice was barely a whisper, pitched low so only he could hear. "Senen hasn't said anything since… since he read that message. What's going on?"
Kin shifted slightly, his own voice hushed in return. "No idea. But whatever it was… it hit him hard."
The quiet pressed in on them again, lasting for what felt like an age. Finally, it was broken by a deep, shuddering inhalation from Senen. He lifted his head slowly, his expression etched with a profound weariness. I received a message from the gatekeeper..." he began, his voice strained but controlled. "My son... he died from heart failure..."
The Words fractured everything even the dust forgot to dance. Mouths hung open like doors in a storm, but no sound dared step out.What could possibly be said to comfort a man confronting such raw, immediate loss?
Senen continued, his voice wavering for just a second before he mastered it again. "I…" He swallowed hard. "I need some time. I will still join you … for our mission." His resolve was clear, even through the pain. "But for now… I have to send word back. To his wife… my grandchildren…" He paused, the reality seeming to settle over him like a physical weight. "…and I need to… accept this is real."
An almost suffocating atmosphere descended upon the lounge. Even the air seemed afraid to move. Senen's grief filled the space, shared silently among them. Eventually, the unspoken need for solitude prompted them to rise. They began to quietly disperse, heading towards their assigned rooms for the night.
Later, a soft knock came at Kin's door.
"Come on in," Kin called out, sitting on the edge of his bed.
The door opened slowly, and Sye stood there, hesitating in the doorway. She looked uncertain, searching for simple words that felt suddenly difficult. "Can we… talk?" she asked softly.
Kin nodded silently, patting the space beside him on the bed. Sye entered, closing the door quietly behind her, and sat down, leaving a small distance between them.
"What happened… with Senen's son…" Sye began, her voice thick with emotion."…it's so awful."
Kin looked down at his hands, then back at her."…Yeah." The single word carried a wealth of shared sorrow.
"Do you think… he'll be okay?" Sye asked, her own worry evident.
Kin considered this for a moment, thinking of the quiet strength Senen usually radiated. "Senen is strong," he said eventually, his voice low but certain. "I haven't known him for very long, but… I know that much."
As he spoke, Sye's composure crumbled. Tears welled in her eyes and began to trace silent paths down her cheeks. Seeing a drop fall to her cheek, Kin reacted instinctively, shifting closer and gently putting an arm around her shoulders, pulling her slightly towards him. Sye leaned resting her head against his shoulder, her soft crying muffled against him. Kin held her steady, offering what little comfort he could, his own voice became soft.
"… He'll be okay."