The workshop stood at the edge of the industrial quarter, tucked between a shuttered apothecary and a rune-burned warehouse. A crooked copper pipe belched faint steam above the door, and the faint tingle of wards buzzed across Kaiden's skin as they approached.
"You sure this is the guy?" Rav muttered, adjusting the collar of his coat.
"Confirmed three times," Sylen replied. "Mage-engineer. Old war projects. Off guild record, but not forgotten."
Kess adjusted the strap on his side pouch, eyes gleaming. "He's got a stabilizer schematic that could cut down teleportation drift by half. If he's got the real thing, we can calculate a jump closer to demon territory. Maybe even skip the midrange relay."
Kaiden eyed the carved sigils on the doorframe. "No mistakes. We go in, buy what we need, and get out. If he starts sniffing too hard—"
"We burn the place and run," Rav said casually, already scanning the narrow street behind them.
"We disappear," Kaiden corrected.
They stepped inside.
The shop was dim, cluttered, and smelled like burnt sulfur and ink. Racks of cracked crystal lenses, glowing glyph-scrolls, and salvaged machine limbs lined the walls. A brass spider skittered across the ceiling.
Behind the counter stood an old man with wiry white hair and thick goggles magnifying his eyes threefold. He didn't look up as they entered.
"Shop's closed unless you're selling something interesting," he said, voice gravelly.
Kaiden stepped forward. "We're looking for displacement compensators. Short-range mana anchors."
The man glanced up. "Odd requests for a merchant caravan. You jump freight or you running from someone?"
"Neither," Kess said smoothly, stepping beside Kaiden. "We jump through trouble."
The man's goggled eyes narrowed. "Clever. You know what you're asking for isn't legal in most provinces, right?"
Kaiden leaned slightly on his cane—a worn brass rod with a cracked grip, gifted by a street urchin who mistook him for an injured veteran. The hum of his mechanical leg echoed faintly. "We're not most provinces."
The man gave a dry chuckle and turned. He walked to a set of drawers and rifled through them. "Had someone like you in here years back. Half-wrecked, leaking from a broken core. Made me replace his conduit with a mana-flow cage I swore never to use again."
His tone was light, but Kaiden stiffened. Kess tilted his head, curious.
"What happened to him?" Rav asked from near the door, his stance wide and hands casually near his cloak's edge.
"Don't know. Either melted or got recruited. Never saw him again. He had eyes like yours, though," the man added, aiming the comment at Kaiden. "Tired. Pretending not to be angry."
Sylen's hand hovered near her blade.
Kaiden kept his voice calm. "You talk too much."
The engineer snorted. "Talk is cheap. I sell insight. Now, this—" he pulled a box from the drawer and dropped it onto the counter. Inside, three etched bronze plates pulsed faintly with blue runes. "Will give you three seconds of stable ground before the leylines snap you like thread. Not military grade, but good enough."
Kess leaned in, inspecting them. "These are real. Dated but stable. We can rig a clamp interface. Might need an anchor delay."
The engineer chuckled. "If you're worried about a few years' worth of dust, you should be more concerned about your friend here. That frame of his is practically ancient engineering. I'm surprised he doesn't creak when he breathes."
Kess smirked and glanced at Kaiden. "He's rustproof... mostly."
Kaiden shot him a sharp look but said nothing. Then he looked to the plates. "We could use these."
Kaiden nodded. "What's the price?"
The engineer smiled. "Information."
Sylen stepped forward. "We don't trade in names."
"Didn't ask for one," he replied. "Just want to know where your tall friend got his chassis. That's old work. Pre-collapse alloys. Nobody makes those anymore."
Kaiden answered flatly. "Family inheritance."
The man let out a wheezing laugh. "Sure. Tell you what. Give me a full scan of your stabilizer nodes—purely technical, no core readings—and I'll throw in a pathfinding dial. It's experimental, but might shave a day off your route."
Kess exchanged a look with Kaiden, then stepped in. "A dial that reorients based on localized mana concentration? You have one of those working?"
The engineer grinned. "Well, it hums and doesn't explode anymore. That's close enough."
Kaiden frowned. "We don't share scans."
"Then maybe we barter with trust," the old man said with mock innocence. "You're patched together with design philosophy I haven't seen in thirty years. You're walking around with a relic, and you expect no one to notice?"
Kess, still studying a pile of arcane tools, murmured, "This coil here... this wasn't made for normal machines. This is coded to sync with limb conductors—Kaiden, it matches your ankle node pattern."
Kaiden turned sharply. "Enough. We're taking the plates."
The engineer held up both hands. "Fine. Just know—machines like yours... they remember. And they tend to attract things you can't kill with swords."
They made the trade and turned to leave.
"One more thing," the man called. "If you do make it back where you're going... stay there. Some things don't get to cross the line twice."
Outside, the streets felt quieter. Heavier. Rav fell into step behind Kaiden as they walked.
"He knew too much," Sylen muttered.
"He always does," Kaiden said. "People like that trade in ghosts."
Kess looked behind them one more time. "Still... that pathfinder dial could've helped."
Kaiden didn't answer. He just kept walking.
Behind a steam vent across the street, a cloaked figure turned away from the shop door and vanished into the crowd.