DarkLight

Part 43: The Spire

The Maintenance Spire loomed before him, a huge rusting narrow needle stretching from the ground on which he stood and piercing the Plateau high above. It was narrow, tall and rusting, lurching out of the darkness around it unnaturally. The spire ran right through the middle of the Heart Of Utopia, straight up to Rammachandra's office and feeding the building with power, water and information. The spire was usually humming with power, machinery and water maintenance, but it now stood quiet, rusting and dead-a forgotten relic of a skeletal city. Was this a different time? Was he in a different universe? A different world? Who was 'The Armored King'? What had happened to him when the Cannon had fired upon him?

The answers to these questions were high above, stored within the mainframe of the Central Control Network-the library of the Utopian Nation. A police-state was at least good for gathering information. 

The pressurized hatch lay on the ground next to the now exposed doorway which separated the inside of the Spire from the rest of the Shadow District-another symbol of the neglect suffered by this structure. Entering the Spire, there was just enough room for a single ladder between the various power lines, terminals and pipes which used to carry various liquids, gasses and substances from the City level to the Plateau. There was only enough room for a one person to stand within the tiny space. The ladder was aged and rusted like the rest of the dead city. A strong breeze blew up the shaft, air from far below trying to find a way up to the plateau from the Shadow District. Somewhere further up the maintenance shaft was a still functioning emergency Clandestine Generator, its green control screen flickering on and off as the last remaining traces of power drained from it-casting an eerie green flashing light in the shaft far above. 

The climb was unbelievable-it was at least a hundred stories up to the first levels of the Plateau. This was going to take all of the strength and determination that Soran had within him. He'd been travelling in the darkness for at least fourteen hours and, for the time being, needed to rest. He pulled the door back into the air-tight frame and wedged it into place, forming a small hiding place within the crucible of the Spire-he didn't want a repeat meeting with one of those creatures again. He sat in the small space and leaned against the ladder, his sword in his lap. It was far from comfortable, but within minutes he was asleep and the world drifted away from him. 

***

Eresmai was bustling around him, it was a Sunday and he was walking through one of the many street markets on the lower levels that drew people from their homes to do trade. He continued walking towards the center of the city - the colossal trunk that supported the plate above him. He entered a strange metal door and entered the structure. Suddenly he found himself below where he entered - quite some way below. There was not much light here, but he felt safe enough - there was no danger here like there was in the shadow district. He entered a few more doors marked 'DANGER - KEEP OUT', but he kept going. This was a dream, after all. The last hatch opened with a hiss, its large bolts retracting to let Soran in. He was in a large circular room, and in the middle of it was a pulsating orb of purple energy. He didn't know what it was but it was dangerously powerful. Signs all around him were half hidden in darkness, all he could make out was 'Displ...'. There were flashing red lights and warnings of 'collapse'. Suddenly the pulsating purple Orb exploded in a wave of energy.

***

Soran awoke sometime later to the sound of rain hitting metal, the reverberations were spreading all the way down the shaft of the Spire and echoing loudly. The sky far above was grey and overcast, the dreary day passed on without a second thought for Soran's situation. 

He readied himself, placing the DarkLight back in its sheath. 

"This is going to hurt" he told himself. 

***

The Armoured King was sitting on his throne, looking down upon his people. He was rarely out of his black platemail armor these days-too many renegades trying to kill him-for all the good that would do, he could still feel pain. He looked out into the rainy day and at the shanty town below, pondering at how the technological might of Utopia City could tumble to this-wooden houses around a communal fire with livestock grazing in paddocks  whilst the townspeople made weapons of wood and metal. 

In his youth ships had sailed in the skies and an automatous city had ruled the entire planet. Arcane powers had had been abundant and its influence touched every person on the planet. But that was then, and this was now. The planet's name had even been forgotten-Saxosis' name was now just a thing of legend has much as the Armored King himself was. His decelerated ageing meant that he looked around forty, but he was actually thousands of years old. He had seen it all and done it all-with her. He pondered his life as he looked out into the rain, his trusted weapon at his side and simple silver crown upon his head. He wished it could all end. 

***

The sharp, rusted metal was digging into his fingers. They had been bleeding for the last hour, but he still carried on. The pressure differences in the air had given him a headache and he couldn't even remember the last time that he had eaten-but he carried on. The DarkLight was weighing him down and he had been climbing for an eternity-but he carried on.

He was almost there now, the bright midday sun was breaking through the clouds above, and the abyss below him still threatened to swallow him whole if he fell. He could see the top ledge, the cool wind carried the scent of the forest and the sound of distant voices-the first voices he had heard after his solitary journey through the darkness. He could smell a burning fire and the dung of livestock-smells which would of surprised him if he wasn't anywhere but the strange world in which he was residing in. 

His hands gripped the ledge and with the last of his strength he heaved himself over, collapsing on the tiled floor, panting and struggling for breaths. He looked up-he was in a room with a frosted glass door, toolboxes and racks of wire all around him. It was the Maintenance Room on the ground floor of the Corporation HQ Building-just off of the main reception. The voices he could hear were far off, strong accented and simple sounding. There was no movement from the other side of the glass door. Soran opened it slowly, emerging like a hidden lion from the grass. His fingers left bloody smears over the dusty glass. A cool atmosphere struck him at once and what he saw came as somewhat of a surprise.