Chapter 26: Descent into Steam and Secrets

These stairs are unnecessarily dramatic...
Nagomi stepped lightly down the spiraling staircase, each metallic footfall ringing like a chime in a cathedral of steam. Brass walls shimmered with arcane glyphs pulsing gently, and warm vapor hissed from vents etched with sigils. He adjusted his collar, brushing steam off his shoulder.
Seriously, who designs these places? Does no one believe in regular elevators?

The path opened into a vast chamber bathed in soft amber light. Crystal lanterns floated midair. Pipes and gears lined the domed ceiling like the ribs of a sleeping beast. A grand stage stood at the center of a circular platform, surrounded by dozens of velvet-covered seats. Dozens of elegantly dressed attendees chatted quietly, sipping glittering beverages and casting admiring glances at the stage.

Nagomi blinked.

This looks less like a magic dungeon and more like a theater... Did I walk into the wrong place?

A sharply dressed usher approached, handing him a black envelope. “Your seat, sir. Row C, seat 4.”

“Thanks… I think,” Nagomi muttered, slipping into his seat with an awkward shuffle.
Why do I feel underdressed?

He scanned the audience. Mostly nobles. A few adventurers like himself. An older man in the front row whispered excitedly to his companion. “They say it can speak. And think!”

Nagomi raised an eyebrow. What can?

The lights dimmed.

A hush swept the audience.

From the shadows, a woman in a sleek metallic gown floated toward the stage, carried by a disk of magic.

“Welcome, honored ticket-holders,” she began, her voice amplified without a visible spell. “To the Exhibition of Wonders. Tonight, we unveil the ‘Awakened Construct No. 7’—a marvel of alchemy, spirit engineering, and arcane machinery.”

The crowd murmured, enraptured.

Nagomi leaned forward, eyes narrowed.
Awakened Construct? Sounds like a golem with Wi-Fi.

He immediately shook the thought from his head.
No internet here, Nagomi. Just glowing rocks and spell-powered screwdrivers.

Two apprentices wheeled in a large tarp-covered object. Steam hissed from vents beneath its base. With a dramatic flick, the sheet came off.

Beneath it stood a tall humanoid figure—half metal, half crystal—veins of blue mana flowing through its body. Its chest glowed with a pulsing rune, and its eyes were shut like a statue in slumber.

“Construct No. 7 was born from the union of ancient soul fragments and newly-forged bronze,” the presenter declared. “With aetheric cognition and memory-retention, it does not merely mimic thought—it experiences it.”

Nagomi folded his arms. Alright… now you’re just showing off.

The presenter extended a hand to the construct. “Awaken.”

The rune on its chest blazed. The construct’s fingers twitched. Its head tilted upward slowly, eyes flickering to life—golden and glassy.

A beat of silence passed.

Then, the construct spoke. Its voice was… human.

“...Where… am I?”

Gasps.

Even Nagomi sat up straighter. Wait, was that emotion in its tone?

The presenter smiled triumphantly. “You are among friends. Do you remember your name?”

The construct hesitated.

“I… I was…”

Its words faltered.

Then came a high-pitched screech—like metal tearing inside metal. The lights flickered. The runes across its body pulsed red for a moment. The presenter turned sharply. “What is—?”

The construct twitched violently.

“I… was… alive…”

A blast of arcane energy erupted from its chest, sending the presenter flying offstage, her body slamming into the far wall.

Gasps turned to screams.

The construct’s eyes burst into flames. Magic surged from its core in chaotic bursts, searing nearby observers into ash. The noble beside Nagomi barely had time to scream before a shard of crystallized mana pierced his skull.

“What the hell?!” Nagomi shouted, flipping backward over his seat.

Panic consumed the room. Flames licked the curtains. Pipes overhead exploded with pressurized steam. An enchanted chandelier crashed into the audience.

The construct let out a wail—not a roar, but something tormented, almost human—before charging into the crowd, arms swinging like blades.

Blood sprayed across polished tiles.

“Out of the way!” someone screamed.

Nagomi ducked as a fireball struck a pillar, shattering it into razor-sharp debris. He rolled behind a row of overturned chairs, his mind racing.

This was supposed to be a demo! Just a fancy puppet show! What the hell kind of horror movie did I just walk into?!

A child cried for her mother. A man staggered out of the smoke with his face half-burned. Another tried casting a spell only for his wand to explode in his hand.

It wasn’t just the construct. The arcane systems were going haywire. The spells fueling this facility—run by enchantments and magical arrays—were unraveling like thread.

And there was no “off switch.” No servers to shut down. No tech support.

Just raw, unstable magic.

Nagomi clenched his fists.
I need to get out. Now.

He spotted a maintenance corridor, half-obscured by flame and falling debris. Heart pounding, he ran, dodging screams and shattered glass.

Behind him, the construct roared once more—its voice warped, pleading, as if it no longer knew what it was.

Nagomi didn’t look back.

He bolted into the shadows.

He burst out into an upper-level hallway, choking on steam. From a shattered balcony, he looked down at the chamber.

Smoke. Blood. Screams. Bodies.

Everything was on fire.

And then… silence.

Nagomi gripped the railing, his breath shaky.

This world… it’s not a game.

His legs trembled, but he didn’t collapse. He couldn’t.

Instead, he whispered to himself—quietly, bitterly.

“...So this is what a real nightmare looks like.”