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Chapter 25: The Sea of Rust

Penulis: SleepyAsh
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2026-02-03 12:45:27

The ocean stopped looking like water three hundred miles north of the capital.

It turned into a slurry of gray sludge, thick with oil slicks and the detritus of a century of industrial excess. The waves didn't crash; they slapped against the hull of the trawler with a heavy, wet sound, like raw meat hitting a butcher’s block.

Tristan stood at the stern, watching the clean blue water recede behind them. He wore a heavy rubberized coat Vane had dug out of the hold, the collar turned up to shie
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  • The Dragon's Silent Shadow   Chapter 30: The Skyfall

    The spine of the world was snapping. It began as a vibration in the soles of Tristan’s boots—a low, discordant hum that bypassed his ears and rattled his teeth. The Sky-Spire, the obsidian needle that had pierced the heavens of Oakhaven for three centuries, was screaming. KR-THOOM. A support beam the size of a redwood trunk sheared off fifty feet above them, plummeting past Tristan and Saoirse into the dark abyss of the shaft. It struck the webs of cabling below with a sound like a bomb going off, showering them in sparks that burned cold against Tristan’s overcharged skin. "Move!" Tristan roared, his voice barely audible over the siren wailing from the walls. WARNING. CORE CONTAINMENT FAILURE IN T-MINUS 6 MINUTES. Saoirse was already moving. She didn't climb; she slid. She wrapped her coat around her arm and hooked it over a thick, rubberized Aether-cable that ran vertically down the shaft. It was a friction slide, dangerous and desperate. "Tristan, grab on!" Tristan didn't

  • The Dragon's Silent Shadow   Chapter 29: The Hollow King

    The voice that boomed from the God-Shell was not the metallic rasp of a synthesizer. It was smooth, cultured, and terrifyingly familiar. "You look surprised, little brother," the fifty-foot titan rumbled. The sound waves alone were enough to vibrate the glass floor of the Observation Deck, sending spiderweb fractures racing toward the edge of the Spire. "Did you really think Father would trust the fate of the Empire to a corpse?" Tristan stared up at the black iron giant. His new eyes—the icy blue irises fractured by specks of white light—weren't seeing metal. They were seeing a roaring ocean of Aether. The God-Shell wasn't just a machine. To Tristan’s void-sight, it was a blinding, red sun. The energy output was astronomical. Aether flowed through the rune-etched armor plates like blood through veins, pumped by a core that pulsed with the rhythm of the eclipse overhead. Capacity critical, a thought whispered in Tristan’s mind. Do not engage. Target saturation exceeds maximum abs

  • The Dragon's Silent Shadow   Chapter 28: The Shadow of the Sun

    The sun was dying.It wasn't a violent death, but a slow, suffocating strangulation. High above the churning gray waters of the Oakhaven harbor, the moon slid across the face of the sun like a coin placed over the eye of a corpse. The light shifted from the harsh, industrial white of morning to a bruised, unnatural twilight.On the bridge of the Sovereign, Tristan stood motionless.To the crew, he looked like a statue carved from ice and anxiety. To Saoirse, standing a breath away, he felt like a void in the world. The air conditioning on the bridge was running, but the temperature around Tristan dropped another ten degrees. His presence was a sinkhole, swallowing the heat, the sound, and the fear in the room."Eclipse at thirty percent," Helena reported from the sensor station. Her fingers flew across the holographic interface of the stolen cruiser, her face pale in the glow of the tactical map. "The ambient Aether levels are spiking. The celestial alignment is thinning the veil betw

  • The Dragon's Silent Shadow   Chapter 27: The Taste of Tomorrow

    The captured Imperial Cruiser, formerly the Iron Will, sat in the harbor of Scrimshaw like a wolf resting among a pack of stray dogs.Its sheer scale was terrifying. Compared to the cobbled-together schooners and retrofitted frigates of the Pirate Fleet, the Cruiser was a monolith of sleek, black steel and humming Aether-lines. It blocked out the sun, casting a long, jagged shadow over the floating city of shipwrecks.Tristan sat on the edge of the forward gun battery, his legs dangling over a fifty-foot drop to the deck below.Status Check.He ran a diagnostic on his own body, a habit he had picked up in the last forty-eight hours.Heart rate: 45 beats per minute. Too slow.Body temperature: 94 degrees. Too cold.Aether Capacity: 88%. Stable.He lifted his hand. The skin was pale, almost translucent in the harsh morning light. Beneath the surface, the white veins—his new nervous system—pulsed with a faint, bioluminescent rhythm. He flexed his fingers, and the air around them warped,

  • The Dragon's Silent Shadow   Chapter 26: The Eater of Storms

    The departure from Station Omega was not a fanfare; it was an amputation. Leaving the rusted sanctuary of the rig felt like cutting off a limb. For two weeks, the Dead Sector had been their cocoon, a toxic shield against the eyes of the Empire. Now, they were stepping back into the light, and the light was full of guns. Helena stood on the rusted landing platform, wrapped in a oversized coat Vane had scavenged. She looked small against the backdrop of the skeletal tower and the green lightning storms. "I’ll keep the frequency open," Helena said, her voice trembling but determined. She clutched the dataslate like a shield. "I can patch into the Imperial grid. If they move the fleet, I’ll tell you." "Stay hidden," Saoirse urged, hugging her cousin. "If the perimeter alarm trips, you go to the panic room in the core. Do not try to be a hero, Helena. You are the voice. We need the voice alive." "I’ll be the voice," Helena whispered. "You be the sword." Tristan stood by the r

  • The Dragon's Silent Shadow   Chapter 25: The Sea of Rust

    The ocean stopped looking like water three hundred miles north of the capital. It turned into a slurry of gray sludge, thick with oil slicks and the detritus of a century of industrial excess. The waves didn't crash; they slapped against the hull of the trawler with a heavy, wet sound, like raw meat hitting a butcher’s block. Tristan stood at the stern, watching the clean blue water recede behind them. He wore a heavy rubberized coat Vane had dug out of the hold, the collar turned up to shield his neck from the acidic mist. He wasn't cold. He hadn't been cold since he drained the kinetic field in the plaza. Inside him, the energy was a trapped storm. It hummed in his bones, a high-frequency vibration that made his teeth ache. The white veins on his hands were glowing brightly enough to be visible even in the daylight, pulsing with a rhythmic thrum that matched the beat of the trawler’s engine. "You're scorching the rail," a voice said. Tristan looked down. His hands were grippi

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