Cover source
Warning: Scenes of violence and mayhem are included in this story. Reader Discretion is advised!
Previous Episodes
Clockwork City
The City outside of time. The City of brass and steam, of steel and glass. Most of the inhabitants of the city toiled their whole lives, ignorant of the secrets only the scholars theorized and only the scribes recorded in the vast and dark Citadel.
The events that now began to unfold throughout the city would shape it for all the eons to come.
Steam Brutes Part 4
It was dark in the Under City. There were only street lamps at the entrances of buildings and at crossroads. These lamps were also not the best, the gas pipes in this area were often broken or clogged, and the igniters were less frequently replaced.
Thus mankind reverted to the more basic source of illumination – fire. The torches used in the poorer parts of town clashed with the runways of steel and brass piping that made up a part of the vaulted ceiling in the Undercity.
The wealthy and affluent of the City just called the part that saw the sky “The City”, but the denizens down here would call that the Upper City. So little did the wealthy know of the toil of the Guilds beneath the surface of the world.
Long ago, buildings that were connected together via bridges turned into roadways that were large enough that carts, carriages, and automobiles travelled from structure to structure. Eventually, an entire stratum of the city was built over, never to see the sky again.
Artificial lighting illuminated an artificial domed sky. At some stage, there had been an attempt to make it look like the sky but that was generations ago. Soot and acidic dirt covered the peeling bits of paint that had decorated the domes.
The domes were so high in most places that three and four-story buildings were built beneath them and the people who stood on the structures would be unable to reach the ceiling. In other places, new pipes were installed that made the ceiling a lot lower.
Along this dark road, two imposing figures strutted. They did not speak to each other, a palpable tension was evident between them. Once someone came across them in the street. Before the person got too close they had sensed the danger between the implacable figures and they had scurried off somewhere.
We have a job to do.
Maxwell wanted nothing better than to hammer Yavin with everything that he had. However, their Guild Master had given them these orders and the Guild Master's word was absolute.
If there was something Max hated more than Yavin, it was the Wrayburn Guild.
Finally, they came close to the street and area where the intruders were at. Max could hear the crash of glass and harsh laughter ahead of him. He felt his pulse quicken in his human arm.
It was when he heard a woman scream that his body seemed to move out of its own. Yavin kept walking along with no real hurry. Max left the brute behind.
Rounding the corner and entering Vernier Street he came to a halt. In the dim light of the nearby torches and a singular gas lamp, he could see several people laying in the street. Some were still and lifeless while others writhed in weak agony.
Further ahead there was a trio of men smashing windows with bats, attempting to break into a house or storefront. The woman was screaming and yelling from inside.
"Hey!" Max called.
The men turned around. "Looks like we finally managed to rustle one up, boys." One of the men said. He was a muscular man with long dark hair. Max thought he looked somewhat familiar.
All three now began approaching Max while the leader kept speaking. "Finally one of the champions of Featherstone has come to the rescue. Boy, you guys are idiots." The man slapped the bat into the palm of his hand. "Get him."
The other two men rushed at Max. Without ceremony, they attacked at the same time. They had no spine and no honor. Max despised them all.
One man swung high and the other low. Max lifted his right arm and it hissed steam. Catching the blow from the bat on his forearm, the wood shattered on the impact. The other strike had been aiming at Max's midriff and it bounced off the plate in his torso.
Steam hissed as his right arm snapped out and struck one man in the face, showering the area with blood and broken teeth. It was a piston-quick motion powered by pressurized steam.
The other man tried to backpedal and Max strode forward, letting his right arm build steam again. He kicked the man in the midriff and the Wrayburn scum dropped onto his knees. A follow-up kick to the face with an iron-capped workboot incapacitated the man.
The leader of the group was now without followers and seemed a lot less sure of himself. "What the hell? What have you got on your arm boy?"
"Can't you tell Amos?" Max grinned, raising his metal arm. "You gave me this arm."
"Who? How do you know my name?" Amos stuttered and began backing away.
"A little boy, years ago. You didn't just break his arm, you tore it off."
"Oh by the Great Cog" Amos swore and drew a pistol from his belt. "You just needed to fucking die!" It was an ugly piece of work, the pistol looked like a piece of water tubing that had been modified into a projectile weapon. Max instantly calculated its efficacy.
The trigger was pulled, the shot was deafening in the quiet street, but the shot ricocheted from Max's steel arm.
"Not today." Max replied. Steam hissed all along his arm as he drew back. All power was being poured along the piston capillaries to force a straight punch. The blow would have all the power and speed of a cannonball, the only way to survive it would be to dodge.
Like many others had tried before, Amos raised both his arms before him to block the blow.
The Thunderfist fired off with a bang of compressed steam. His fist connected with Amos' forearms where they intersected and sheared straight through muscle, bone, and sinew. The punch had been aimed behind however and he had been well in range, the punch sailed straight through and connected with the man's lower jaw, shattering the entire jawbone.
Amos flew through the air and landed in a heap. The man was still.
"You could have saved one of them for me." Yavin drawled. He walked along with his hands in his pockets. It annoyed Max instantly that the man had not seemed to be in much of a hurry.
"Took you long enough to get here." Max grumbled.
"Well, I knew that you'd be able to take on any small fry." Yavin said, waving idly at the men on the ground. "If there were any real enemies I would come in last second... Urgh!" The man grunted as something stuck his bare chest.
The steel that had struck Yavin so suddenly forced him backward, blood spraying from his mouth. He clutched the object. There was a long shaft that had impaled the massive man's chest.
Max tried looked back up the street, but saw nothing.
A whistle was all he heard and Max dodged to the side. Another two steel spears found flesh. Yavin fell backward onto the road. Another projectile had speared his chest now and a third had sunk into his shoulder.
"Aww hell." A voice said with a mean chuckle. "Did I get you with that?"
Out of the darkness atop a three-storey building another projectile sunk into the wall behind Max. It had been aimed high above his head, so he did not bother to dodge it.
Something else came through the dark and he raised his right arm just in time. A bladed boot struck sparks off his mechanical arms as a large figure slid down the grappling wire that was attached to the projectile in the wall.
Landing softly behind Max, the man stood up straight. He was even taller than Yavin and wore a long fur trimmed coat. As he turned, a javelin-tipped firearm levelled itself on Max
The Dustoff
And we end off right there! We will have to see what happens with the Hunter and Thunderfist in part 5!
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