The night was ink?black,
and the fog of steam and coal smoke
reduced visibility in the Lower District to almost nothing.
Which made it the perfect cover.
Sunri, Ye Lingyun, and Amy
moved like shadows
through the tangled maze of pipes and abandoned structures.
Amy knew this area intimately—
she had grown up here.
She led the two men around the lit patrol routes,
past steam?valve stations still operating through the night,
until they reached Valve Station No. 7.
It was an old brick building long abandoned,
its front gate chained shut,
its windows shattered.
But Amy circled to the back,
and behind a pile of rusted scrap and debris,
she found a hidden door
almost indistinguishable from the wall.
The hinges had clearly been maintained once—
it opened with only the faintest scrape.
Inside was a dust?choked control room,
its consoles buried under grime.
Amy walked straight to an old iron cabinet in the corner
and shoved it aside—
revealing a circular opening in the wall,
about a meter wide,
descending into darkness.
“This is it,” she whispered,
lighting a portable steam lantern.
Its weak yellow glow illuminated the inner surface of the tunnel.
Not rough stone—
but something smooth,
metallic,
etched with impossibly fine, regular patterns.
“This isn’t a steam pipe,”
Sunri murmured, touching the wall.
It was cold and unyielding.
“I’ve never seen material like this.”
“My brother said it’s part of the ‘old thing,’”
Amy replied.
“Older than the city.”
Ye Lingyun ducked inside first,
Azure Cloud Sword drawn,
its tip angled forward.
Sunri followed,
carrying not only his pistol
but also a weapon acquired in this world—
a steam?driven long gun.
The weapon was about a meter long,
its body forged from sturdy metal,
a small steam canister attached at the rear
and connected to the chamber by narrow tubing.
Pulling the trigger
released compressed steam
that propelled a specialized piercing round—
far more powerful than ordinary firearms,
though it required re?pressurizing after several shots.
They had retrieved it earlier
from a hidden cache near the ruins of Kyle Roan’s workshop.
The tunnel was wider than expected,
just enough for a person to walk while hunched.
The air barely circulated,
thick with the stale tang of old metal—
but at least there was no deadly steam leakage.
They descended steadily,
the slope shifting from gentle to steep.
The tunnel was unnervingly clean—
no debris, no stagnant water—
as if some unseen maintenance system
still operated in silence.
After half an hour,
a faint glow appeared ahead.
Not the lantern’s light—
but a steady, pale blue radiance.
They had reached the exit.
The three of them peered out cautiously—
and their breath caught.
A vast underground expanse
stretched beyond sight.
Their tunnel opened high on a curved wall,
like a small hollow in a cliff face.
Below lay the foundation of the city—
but not rock,
not soil.
A colossal structure,
half?embedded in the earth,
so massive it defied comprehension.
Its form blended organic curves
with geometric precision,
its smooth silver?white surface
still shimmering faintly
despite untold ages.
Countless glowing lines
branched across it like veins or circuitry,
all converging toward a central region
pulsing with intense blue light.
From that core,
dozens of enormous “light conduits”
extended upward,
piercing the rock above
and reaching toward the city overhead.
Some conduits flickered erratically,
their glow dim or broken,
with arcs of unstable energy
snapping at the ruptured ends.
But what shocked them even more
was the forest of steel structures
built atop and around the ancient construct—
boilers, gear assemblies, pistons, drive shafts,
thick steam pipes.
The entirety of steam civilization’s machinery
had been grafted onto this ancient body
like parasitic vines.
Many pipes drilled directly
into the glowing patterns,
as if forcibly extracting something.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Two distinct sounds filled the cavern:
the heavy clanging and hissing
of steam machinery above,
and beneath it,
a deep, rhythmic hum
from the ancient structure—
like the heartbeat of a sleeping giant.
“What… what is this?”
Ye Lingyun’s voice was dry.
The sight shattered everything he knew
about mechanisms and engineering.
“This is what lies beneath the power core,”
Amy whispered, stunned.
“My brother said the ‘old thing’ was down here,
but I never imagined…”
Sunri stared at the glowing conduits and patterns.
The sun?mark on his palm
throbbed with a warm, steady pulse,
resonating faintly
with the hum of the structure below.
Lunelle’s gentle, resolute face
flashed through his mind.
“We’re going down,” he said.
A series of steel maintenance platforms and ladders
connected the tunnel mouth
to the surface of the ancient construct—
clearly built by later generations.
They descended carefully.
The closer they came,
the heavier the pressure of the immense energy felt.
Tiny motes of light drifted in the air,
tingling faintly against their skin.
Reaching a larger platform,
they found several smooth silver?white panels
embedded in the metal wall—
completely out of place
amid the steam?era machinery.
Symbols and flowing patterns
shifted across their surfaces,
resembling the projections
from the gemstone in the necklace.
Sunri approached one panel.
When his fingers brushed it by accident,
the panel flared to life—
symbols racing, rearranging—
and then transforming
into text and images they could understand.
Fragmented records appeared:
[Luminar Pulse Civilization — Final Log Fragment]
“…Energy matrix overload irreversible.
To prevent pulse?core detonation
and extinction of all life forms,
execute Final Protocol:
descend into deep crust,
enter dormant stabilization mode.
May future intelligent beings
learn from our failures
instead of repeating them.”
[Data Fragment: Pulse Core — Planetary Geothermal & Aether Converter]
Description:
This device is a multi?generational energy and ecological regulator,
not a weapon.
Excessive extraction of high?purity aether
will cause spatial fractures,
biological distortion,
and destabilization of reality anchors…
[Warning Log]
Unauthorized external linkage detected…
Energy siphoning in progress…
Primary interface damaged…
Stability falling to 67%… 58%…
[Dark Age — Observational Notes (Speculative)]
Civilization collapse.
New species discover pulse core,
unable to comprehend its nature.
Reverence and fear coexist.
Attempts made to imitate or seal it
using primitive machinery (gears, levers)…
[Mechanical Revival Era — First Contact Report (City Archives, Sealed)]
“…Confirmed subterranean luminous megastructure
as an infinite energy source.
Initial steam?pipe linkage successful.
Output exceeded projections by 3000%.
Recommendation:
establish strict secrecy and control.
Energy properties unknown—extreme risk.
Public explanation:
‘High?efficiency steam power core.’”
[Imperial Year 47 — Incident Report A?7 (Top Secret)]
Lower District pipe explosion.
Actual cause:
pulse?core instability leading to localized aether leakage.
47 dead.
Survivors exhibited hallucinations,
physical mutations.
Response:
seal area,
purge memories (physical),
public explanation:
‘Boiler pressure?valve failure.’
[Current Governor’s Directive (Highest Clearance)]
All research into the true origin of energy
or historical truth
is treason.
Any means may be used to eliminate leaks—
including framing, disappearance, “accidents.”
Maintain the narrative
of the “Great Steam Invention”—
foundation of imperial rule.
The text ended abruptly.
The truth lay bare—
and brutal.
This steam?roaring gear empire
was not powered by coal or ingenuity,
but by a slumbering, dangerous relic
from an ancient civilization.
Every explosion blamed on “pipe aging”
or “operator error”
was a pulse?core instability leak.
Every increase in power
came at the cost
of further damaging the ancient device.
The rulers knew everything.
They wove their throne from lies,
guarded their secret with violence,
and crushed anyone who sought the truth—
like Kyle Roan,
like Amy’s brother—
beneath the gears.
“So… there was never a great steam revolution,”
Sunri whispered, voice hoarse.
“Only a century?long theft—
and a lie.”
Ye Lingyun’s grip tightened on his sword,
veins bulging.
“To hide the truth,
frame the loyal,
kidnap innocents…
Such acts are beneath even demons!”
Amy was already crying,
for her missing brother,
for every silent death
in the Lower District explosions.
At that moment,
heavy footsteps and the hiss of pressurized steam
echoed from the far side of the platform.
“I must admit—your investigative skills are impressive.”
Jackson, the Guardian,
stepped out of the shadows,
fully armored,
eight elite guards behind him,
weapons trained on the trio.
“But this is where it ends.
Some truths are buried
because they should never be known.”

