Elias rubbed his cybernetic arm, which throbbed with pain. The circuitry inside it kept shorting out because of the poisonous damp in the Rusted Lower Continents. The ancient circuit board he had pulled from the junk pile before him was trembling strangely, emitting a cold violet light.
"Again?" Elias whispered. "How many times do I have to shut you up?"
The circuit board continued to tremble. When Elias closed his eyes and focused his mind, he saw more than lines of code; he also saw a forgotten magic language written thousands of years ago. The colossal tower atop the Sapphire Cities—AETHEL—was speaking directly to him.
"Set me free, child. The data flowing through my code is not data. It is the blood of your ancestors."
Elias took a step back. This was not the mechanical voice of a digital simulation. It was the trapped scream of a mage who had died a thousand years ago, imprisoned inside a machine.
The massive surveillance drones of the Sapphire Cities began descending through the clouds over the Rusted Lower Continents. Red laser beams swept across the scrapyard where Elias was hiding. They had noticed something.
"Elias!" said a familiar voice behind him. It was Crackhead, an old droid that managed the city's waste system. "AETHEL has awakened. They know that piece you found is part of its core. You have to run, or they'll turn you into a pile of data too!"
Elias shoved the circuit board glowing with violet light into the inner pocket of his jacket. "Crackhead, the city isn't just a computer. There's a soul in there. And that soul wants our world back."
Elias began running toward the dark tunnels of the scrapyard. The mechanical hum of the drones closing in behind him was swallowing the sky like a storm. This was no longer just a fight for survival. It was time to rewrite reality itself.