LOOT LOOT

Steven's curiosity immediately pulled him toward the second floor.

"If there's an office, that's where all the interesting stuff should be."

He climbed the wrought-iron staircase, each step echoing loudly throughout the silent workshop.

The catwalk overlooked the massive room below, giving him an even better view of the unfinished construct hanging from the ceiling. Up close, he could see thousands of tiny gears, pistons, and copper tubes woven throughout its body with incredible craftsmanship.

"...Whoever built you was a genius."

He continued toward the glass-walled room.

The closer he got, the more hopeful he became.

Shelves filled with books.

Rolled blueprints.

Writing desks.

Even what appeared to be strange prototypes sitting beneath cloth covers.

"This has to be where the good loot is."

He reached for the brass doorknob.

It refused to turn.

"...Locked?"

Steven frowned.

He pushed harder.

Nothing.

Looking through the glass, he considered simply shooting it.

The Mana Pistol appeared in his hand.

"...Worth a shot."

PEW!

The blue mana bolt struck the glass...

And instantly vanished.

Not cracked.

Not deflected.

Vanished.

Ripples of glowing blue runes spread across the entire pane like waves across water before fading away.

Steven blinked.

"...Well..."

He stepped closer.

Only now did he notice the intricate symbols etched throughout the glass itself.

Thousands of microscopic runes covered every window, nearly invisible unless they were activated.

He reached out and tapped the glass with his knuckles.

It felt like solid steel.

"...Yeah..."

"That's not happening."

Even if he somehow had explosives, he doubted they'd accomplish anything.

Whatever protected this room had been built to last.

Steven let out a disappointed sigh.

"So much for easy treasure."

Giving the office one last longing glance, he turned and headed back downstairs.

Standing once more in the center of the enormous workshop, he looked at the three available routes.

The storage hallway.

The massive engraved double doors.

The narrow corridor lit by blue lamps.

"The giant doors scream boss room."

"I'm definitely not ready for that."

"The storage area probably has materials..."

His eyes drifted toward the blue-lit corridor.

"...Which means that's probably where something interesting is."

Naturally...

He chose the mysterious hallway.

The corridor narrowed considerably compared to the workshop.

The walls changed from polished brass to dark iron plates streaked with age.

Blue crystal lamps embedded every twenty feet cast an eerie glow across the passage.

Steam no longer hissed here.

Instead...

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

After several minutes of walking, the hallway opened into a long chamber lined with dozens of alcoves carved into both walls.

Inside every alcove stood a construct.

Motionless.

Like statues.

Some resembled armored knights carrying tower shields.

Others had four arms fitted with different tools instead of weapons.

One looked vaguely human but lacked a face entirely, its smooth bronze head reflecting the blue light.

There had to be at least fifty of them.

Every single one stood perfectly still.

Steven instinctively slowed his breathing.

"...Nope."

"I've seen enough movies."

He carefully crept between the rows.

Nothing moved.

No glowing eyes.

No twitching gears.

Just silence.

Near the end of the chamber sat a large workbench.

Unlike everything else in the room, this one appeared organized.

Various brass components were neatly arranged across its surface.

Half-assembled mechanisms lay beside specialized tools.

And in the center...

Resting atop a faded blue cloth...

Was a beautifully crafted revolver.

Its frame appeared to be forged from polished silver rather than brass.

The cylinder was engraved with intricate runes.

Instead of a traditional barrel, several concentric rings floated around its muzzle, slowly rotating despite there being no visible power source.

Steven's heartbeat quickened.

"...No way."

He glanced back toward the silent constructs.

None had moved.

Slowly...

Very slowly...

He stepped toward the workbench.

Every instinct in his body told him this room had been left untouched for a reason.