While Livius spoke with the Silver Queen, Cian was busy in the "Communication Hub" of the mine, a room filled with hissing steam-valves and flickering crystals. He had spent the last four hours drafting a document that would change the course of history.
"Raven, get this to the Nexus agents in the Federation Capital," Cian said, handing over a scroll sealed with the "Ghost's Eye" in black wax. "I don't want it delivered to the Chancellor. I want it delivered to the 'Guild of Engineers.'"
Raven tilted her head. "The engineers? Why? They are the ones who build the Dreadnoughts."
"Exactly," Cian said, a sharp, dangerous glint in his eyes. "They are also the ones who have been told that their machines are powered by 'Clean Aether-Dust.' If they find out they've been using the processed souls of children to keep their houses warm, the internal revolt will be louder than any cannon. I'm not attacking the Federation's walls, Raven. I'm attacking their conscience."
Cian looked at the "Ledger of the Future" on his desk. He saw the path ahead. It was a narrow, terrifying bridge between a total world war and a divine reckoning. He knew that Livius was the "Sword," but he had to be the "Scale."
"His Majesty is going to the Shattered Zenith," Cian murmured. "He's going to face a God. And while he's doing that, I'm going to make sure there's still a world left for him to come back to."
He turned back to the crystals, his fingers flying across the keys. He was no longer just a clerk. He was the "Ghost's Shadow," and he was about to prove that a pen could be just as lethal as a Dragon's roar.
In the medical tent, Livius looked at Aethelgard. "The Shattered Zenith... where is it?"
"It is in the center of the world," she replied. "Beneath the Golden Throne. But to enter it, you must first 'Unmake' the King. You must go back to being a Ghost, Livius. One final time."
Livius looked at Cian through the tent flap, then at Raven. He felt the weight of his eighteenth year. He had gained a kingdom, found his people, and survived a massacre. But the real trial was only just beginning.
"Pack the records, Cian," Livius called out, his voice steady once more. "We're going back to the capital. We're going to the basement of the world."