The fifteenth floor of the Chronos Spire was a sprawling, industrialized nightmare of floating metallic platforms, glowing neon light-bridges, and the constant, deafening grind of heavy machinery. The air tasted permanently of ozone and engine grease. Below the narrow walkways, a seemingly bottomless abyss of churning cogs and sparking exhaust vents stretched into the dark. It was a zone designed to test a party's footing and spatial awareness, completely devoid of the natural elements found in the lower levels.
Vahn Ryker walked across the central promenade with his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his cheap, brown academy jacket. He didn't look like a man who had just suffocated one of the most powerful Guild Leaders on the server with a localized physics rewrite. He looked like he was out for a leisurely evening stroll.
