City Of Brass Novel Novels & Stories

It was a city bathed in neon lights and steam coming off various buildings… There were towers made of brass that were also filled with glowing signs, gears turning on rooftops, and alleyways with bright crimson light as the train entered the city… It looked like something out of a fever dream. It was beautiful, seductive, and it felt as if something was wrong. Farrah leaned closer to the window as she couldn’t believe it. It was like a Steampunk City that could only be seen in the movies or read in the books. Then, with a soft hiss, the train doors slid open. A gust of warm, perfumed air swept inside… It was sweet and metallic, like roses and rust mixed together…

Nyxara didn’t waste her time stalking Brielle through alleys or shadows. That would’ve been artless—predictable, almost insulting. Instead, she let the city do what cities did best: spin stories from scraps, let secrets slip between teeth painted red, let the rumor mill grind down even the hardest truths until all that was left was gossip—fast, careless, and everywhere. By the time the sun burned the last mist off the rooftops, Nyxara already knew where Brielle would be: at some exclusive charity gala, the kind thrown by people who wore remorse like perfume, hoping money could bleach their sins.

“But he knows the docks.” Bella looked outside again. The deeper they drove into the city, the rougher it became. Bright estate lights disappeared behind them, replaced by narrow streets, rusted buildings and smoke drifting from distant chimneys. The docks sat near the edge of the water where most of the city’s illegal trade moved before dawn. Nothing good ever came from there…Even Bella knew that. The cart eventually slowed beside an abandoned warehouse near the harbor. Rain hammered loudly against the roof as the driver killed the engine.

A cold breeze crawled beneath my skin, making me shiver in the open. I moved forward while they all followed behind. The narrow road led us to the city we once left. Beautiful, glamorous, and a busy city. At least that was the picture I had of it, only if I knew the city had died the moment Morgana stepped into the city again. The once glamorous, beautiful tall glass buildings had now collapsed, with different parts of the glass all scattered on the road. Fire rose from buildings afar, with the smell of burnt ashes filling the whole air instead of the normal fresh smell of nature.

Every detail spoke of a place designed for secrecy and power. The car slowed. A high-rise loomed ahead, taller and sharper than anything Sofia had seen. Glass reflected the city lights like mirrors, perfectly smooth and unyielding. The building radiated authority. She felt it in her bones, cold and unrelenting. She had no idea what awaited her inside.

--- Eventually, the staircase ended. And the sight before them stole their breath away. An underground city stretched endlessly into the darkness. Magnificent silver towers rose toward a ceiling filled with glowing crystals that resembled stars. Crystal rivers flowed through ancient streets. Moonlight-colored bridges connected enormous structures. The city looked untouched by time. Perfectly preserved. As though its people had only just left. For several moments, no one spoke. Even Lucien appeared stunned. And Lucien was rarely stunned by anything. --- "This city..." Maeve whispered.

The city was a living machine when Bram went out. Its gears turned in the rumble of traffic, the hiss of buses, the distant wail of sirens; its pistons pumped in the steady flow of bodies down sidewalks. For Bram, surveillance wasn’t work so much as rhythm. He blended with the current, eyes always tracking, posture loose but watchful.

Involuntarily, Sumico, who started to feel comfortable inside her Elder Brother’s precious hug, began to lay down her head on her Elder Brother’s chest which seemed to be giving her a kind of protection, comfort and warmth senses. “You can see many high buildings and skyscrapers there, can’t you? All of them are shiny because they’re made of gold, diamonds, and the other kinds of precious gems.” “Then, you must be extremely rich, Elder Brother…” “In order to cure your curiosity, you have to go to the city center by yourself. Not any single word I say can describe perfectly what you’ll see in the city center later on.” “On the other day, Elder Brother. I promise you…” Involuntarily again, Sum

“Do you imagine that the Bratva is so easy to collapse that taking me down will end it all? Do you think the corrupt cops who’ve gotten fat off Bratva money will simply allow their livelihoods to be threatened? Do you think the brigadiers who’ve been champing at the bit for their chance to taste power will just abandon that opportunity if you remove me? Do you imagine that all you have to do is kick in the door, and the whole rotten structure will come crashing down?” “You don’t believe in this city, do you?” He levels me with a haughty glare. “You’ve never believed in it.” “I’ve seen this city in ways you never could.” I shake my head in disgust. “I’ve seen it for what it is: a dirty, twist

BOOK SIX: THE IRON CROWN (Jace’s Perspective) There is a specific kind of silence that falls over a city right before it realizes it is at war. It is the sound of ignorance—the hum of the flex-rail trains, the distant clatter of the foundries, the laughter of children in the cobblestone squares. It is a terrifying, fragile peace.