I had seen it before. Everyone in Zetun had seen it, those hilariously pompous towers catching the light at dawn and dusk, those gardens spilling green and gold from terraces that floated hundreds of feet above the canyon floor. But seeing it from the Sump and standing at its gates were experiences so different I might as well have been a different person looking at a different building.
The air here tasted different. Down in the Sump, the atmosphere was heavy with the copper tang of the refineries and the damp rot of the canal. Here, the wind smelled of jasmine, ozone, and something sharp that pricked the back of my throat - raw, filtered mana. It was the smell of power that had nothing to do with survival and everything to do with dominance.
The architecture defied everything I understood about how buildings were supposed to work. Bridges of white stone connected towers with no visible supports, hanging in the air as though gravity had simply decided to mind its own business. Brass automatons stood at intervals along the main pathway, their glass eyes tracking visitors with mechanical patience, their joints clicking softly in the desert wind.
And the gold. Gods, so much gold. It was everywhere; on the doorframes, in the mortar, woven through tapestries that probably cost more than the entirety of the Sump with all its people in it combined. The First Emperor really wanted the world to know exactly how much power he commanded, and three hundred years later his palace still screamed that message at you from a mile away.
Nyssara's expired Inquisition badge got us through the outer gates. She walked like she owned every stone beneath her feet, and the guards barely glanced at us before waving us through.
"Act bored."
"What?"
"Inspectors are always bored. Look like you've seen it all before."
"I've never seen a floating garden before," I muttered, keeping my head down as a squad of Palace Guards marched past. Their armor was pristine, untouched by the grit of the lower city. Benipe steel, Nyssara would call it. Cold iron.
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"Then look at the cracks in the pavement," she hissed. "Look at the rust on the hinges. Find the flaws. Inspectors look for flaws. Tourists look for spectacle. If you look like a tourist, we're dead."
I kept my sleeves pulled down to cover the black veins and carried a clipboard I'd pickpocketed from a real inspector outside the walls. We looked pretty official. Remarkably forgettable. Two more bureaucrats in a palace full of them, only with an extra slice of routine and boredom written on our eyeballs.
The interior was organized chaos given physical form. Servants rushed through corridors carrying armfuls of flowers and bolts of fabric and enough food to feed the Sump for a month. The coronation was tomorrow and everyone was feeling the pressure.
A heavy hand landed on my shoulder. I froze. A guard, helmet tucked under his arm, loomed over me.
"Zone C is closed for the prep work," he rumbled. "Where's your clearance?" Nyssara didn't even break stride. She just glanced back, her eyes flat and unimpressed.
"Sanitation Audit, code 7-Alpha. Unless you want to explain to the High Priestess why the ceremonial drain is backed up with sewage during her ascendance, I suggest you let us pass." The guard blinked. The sheer specificity of the lie, as well as the threat of sewage short-circuited his suspicion. He stepped back. "Right, Madame. Carry on."
"Security briefing at noon," Nyssara murmured once we were clear. "Main hall, east wing."
"We're attending?"
"We're hiding nearby and listening."
"Routine check up but make it stealthy..."
We found a servants' passage behind the throne room's eastern wall; narrow and dark, the kind of forgotten space that existed in every old building if you knew where to look. Dust lay thick on the floor. A grated vent near the ceiling let sound and light filter through from the grand chamber beyond.
Performance Rating: ??? (3/5) Malgrin's Note: "I hate this place. It smells like perfume and lies. But I must admit, walking past a royal guard with nothing but a clipboard and a bad attitude? That is a special kind of arrogance. You fit right in."
ENVIRONMENT SCANNED:
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Location: The Imperial Palace (Zone: The Ribcage of the Kas).
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Threat Density: Low (Currently).
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Stealth Check: Passed. (Method: Bureaucratic Boredom).
INVENTORY UPDATE:
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[Stolen Clipboard]: Equipped. (+10 to Deception).
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[Nyssara’s Badge]: Expired, but functional.
CORRUPTION: █████????? (16%) - Stable. No magic used. Just sweating.