Chapter 9 · Skyfall Barrage

"Hold the damn rail, Vance!" Lyra screamed, her voice barely cutting through the screech of metal on metal.

I didn't answer. I couldn't. I was slammed against the roof of the mag-train, the wind ripping at my clothes, while the world blurred into a smear of gray smog and industrial rust. Above us, the Dreadnought didn't just hover—it hunted. The massive gunship cast a shadow like a dying god, its underbelly glowing with a sickly violet light that signaled another salvo of aether-bolts.

"Get up!" Lyra lunged forward, her fingers digging into the leather of my jacket. She hauled me up with a grunt, her breath hot against my neck. Her eyes were bloodshot, a thin trail of crimson leaking from the corner of her mouth. "If you're waiting for a thank-you note, you're about to be a very dead, very ungrateful mechanic."

"I'm working on it!" I yelled back, my mechanical arm sparking. The forbidden reactor in my shoulder was screaming, pushing my nervous system to the breaking point. "The sync is unstable! If I push the output, I might blow the whole carriage!"

"Then blow it!" she snapped, shoving me toward the edge of the roof.