Moonlight never tasted so good.

We emerge from the cavern, placing foot to sand and turning our faces up to the night sky. I breathe deeply, savouring the sensation of fresh air coating my lungs and for the first time in many months, I am full.

Luca looks to the left and I to the right. Without exchanging a word we take flight, releasing the horrors of Babel and her tunnels to the breeze.

Hugging the cliffside as we run, we round the base of the great, stone mountain and leap over the occasional boulder as we prepare to find the dome waiting around the other side. When the ground begins to drop sharply we stick to the high road, eventually finding ourselves running along the side of a gorge. Rounding a corner we slow and finally stop, resting for the first time since departing Simon's flat and slumping into seated positions overlooking the cliff edge.

My heart is hammering madly, exacerbated by the run and the adrenaline coursing steadily through my veins. I consider the view granted by our vantage point, marvelling at the way the dome's mirrored exterior winks the moon back up at us. A shadow drifts across the image and I frown, switching my view to the sky. The spectacle is so rare that I think for a moment that the stress of our escape has brought on another hallucination, before Luca comments.

"Those clouds are moving quickly," He turns to look behind us. "And building." The rarity of clouds in the desert isn't lost on either of us and I can tell Luca is as unsettled by their sudden appearance as I am.

"Good." I say with more confidence than I feel. "It will be dark. We could use the extra coverage."

Luca nods and together we study the dome, scanning the surrounding terrain and plotting how best to approach. He makes to climb down when I put out a hand to stop him. He stiffens at my touch and I immediately draw back, tucking my hand behind my back.

"You don't have to do this with me." I tell him. "You've come far enough."

He merely raises his brows in response, shaking his head a little and climbing over the ledge.

Cheeks burning, I follow him as we pick our way along the side of the cliff, moving silently under increasing darkness while the dome looms larger and larger ahead. When we run out of cliff we are faced with a terrifying plateau; the open ground that surrounds Babel could be home to any number of Brute or beast. I prepare to jump, pausing when I notice that Luca hasn't moved.

"Wait." He says, indicating the clouds gathering above us.

I do, and within moments the moonlight fades away. Simultaneously, we jump. With no idea of what is ahead or beyond, we sprint across the Wastelands. Fear feeds the blood coursing through my veins and some immeasurable amount of time later I am leaping upwards, grappling to hold onto the first crevasse my fingers manage to find.

Only blind perseverance keeps me glued to the wall. The mirrored panels that make up Babel's skin are cut into triangles, the edges sharp enough to slice through my leather-wrapped hands. I keep moving in order to minimize the sting, grunting as I struggle to place my feet within the narrow gaps. Luca and I inch our way up the wall, trading looks only when we can spare them. At one point my foot slips and I slam against the dome, pain lacing through both hands as I heave myself upwards. My laboured breathing fogs the mirrored pane beneath my cheek as I stare down at the distant earth. When a passing cloud obscures my view I look back up to find Luca's concerned expression, his eyes closer to mine than I expected and a question written across his face.

"I'm fine." I say before a rogue gust of wind loosens my hair from it's tie.

At once we double our efforts, our energy rapidly dwindling as we battle the ever-worsening weather. The breeze carries a strange sound, a creaking that jarrs my senses and rattles my bones. When the steep pitch begins to level out we are forced to crawl, intent on the barely-visible hatch that marks the entrance to Babel's airship hangar.

The clouds clear and I falter, slipping once more on the dome's smooth surface. Looking up, I am arrested by a sight that sends a chill running down my spine.

My first thought is that I'm looking at another communication tower; those desert structures used to transmit the Madam's radio signals across the wilds. Unlike a radio tower, the metal beams that make up this structure are without adornment. The four corners meet high over our heads where the brief bout of moonlight is pierced by the silver point at the tower's head.

We creep closer, remaining weary of the structure swaying and groaning above us. The details of the tower's makeup come into focus and I am able to make out the narrow brackets crisscrossing one another before disappearing into the gloom of the hatch. When we finally reach hangar's entrance I peer inside, blinking my dry eyes.

The low flickering of electric light does a poor job of showing us what lies below. While it is easy enough to spot the gargantuan airships, Brutes and Enforcers are less distinctive. Glancing to my side, I watch Luca while straining to hear anything beyond the tower's incessant creaking. He is staring intently at the tower and I know without asking that he is trying to work out how it can be used to get inside the hangar.

I point to a beam a little ways below us, indicating that we will have to jump down, not across. He nods his understanding and I push myself to my hands and knees, forgoing the rope we brought with us to climb down into the hatch. Immediately buffeted by angry gusts of wind, I risk only a moment to gain my footing before propelling myself forward, placing a foot on the lip of the hangar's roof and plunging back into Babel.

My feet slam into the unforgiving steel as I catch myself against a crossbar, moving quickly to the side to make room for Luca. He lands harder than I did, releasing a grunt of pain as he hits the beam and stumbles, falling backwards. Without a thought I fall as well, wrapping my legs around the beam below me and reaching out for him. My outstretched hands find nothing and for a single, heart-stopping moment I believe that I am too late.

Then, his fingers close around my wrist.

Grabbing hold of Luca with both hands, I use his momentum to swing him across the divide and release him at the last instant. This time he lands without incident, clutching the narrow beam and swaying only a little. Gingerly, I untangle my sore legs before picking my way down to the ground, avoiding Luca's eye when I pass him. Finally placing one foot upon the ground, I keep one hand on our only means of escape while casting a careful look around our surroundings.

The airship hangar is illuminated, but only barely. Without any sunlight to stream through the narrow gaps in the dome's ceiling just a few intrepid lightbulbs are left to highlight the hangar's contents. The hovering airships are already an afterthought as I turn my attention back to the strange tower.

Luca steps down beside me at the sound of a door shuddering open. Grabbing hold of him I take off for the nearest airship, ducking around behind it just as a group of chattering people enter the room. Luca boosts me up onto the ship's ladder and I pull him up in turn. Remaining low, we edge towards the front of the ship and peer over the top of the instrument panel. A shuffling pack of Brutes trail the new arrivals, remaining in the shadows while the others gather in front of the tower. White coats betray the visitor's profession and I know without a doubt that we are in the presence of the Madam's secret new project.

The conversation is difficult to hear above the worsening weather. I strain to listen, watching the Techs as they move about, checking over a complicated-looking machine at the base of the tower and consulting their clipboards. Someone flicks on a light and I am granted a better view of the machine. Standing just over the head of the tallest Tech, the instrument panel is covered in a series of switches and dials. Needles housed inside little glass domes jump back and forth in tune with the howling wind.

"We're nearly ready." A man wearing a coat as starched as his expression speaks over the excited scientists. He withdraws a radio from his pocket and mumbles something unintelligible to the person on the other side before turning back to the Techs. "To your stations, people."

There is a mad scattering and the Techs hurry to make their adjustments. The remainder line up facing the door, fiddling with their coats and tucking their clipboards professionally against their sides. When I realize who it is they're waiting for it is as though I have been punched squarely in the stomach, the air exiting my lungs and a mad rush filling my ears. My fingers close around the hilt of my dagger just as the hangar door flies open and she strides into the room.

She's here.

The Madam.

Luca's grip is like a vice on my shoulder, securing me in place as the cloud roars forward. My vision narrows to a pinpoint, obscuring everything but this one chance, this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to undo a lifetime of evilness. The object of my madness strides forward unawares, swathed in a dark robe with her silver hair cut into an efficient bob. I can feel myself positively vibrating as the whispers fight against some ghostly reminder.

This is it. This is your chance.

Take it.

"Well?" Her voice is even more grating without a speaker between us. "Is everything in place?"

"Yes, Madam." The starched man's head bobs up and down eagerly. "As per your direction, we've left the Vane running at two percent capacity for twenty-four hours. As you can see, the results are promising."

"Indeed." She moves toward the switchboard and examines the needles jumping around in their glass chambers. "Most promising."

What are you waiting for?

Kill her.

A burning in my chest suggests that I have yet to draw breath but I remain frozen, terrified that if I were to so much as inhale all Burn will break loose.

"Increase capacity to five percent." The Madam forgoes the switchboard and in one surprisingly swift moment ducks beneath one of the tower's beams and stands in the center of it. She turns in place, staring past the steel beams up at the raging sky. "We're close."

"Yes, Madam."

The technicians spring back into action and I recall that someone is holding me. Slowly, I tear my eyes away from the Madam and locate Luca's hand, concentrating on the blue-black markings circling his wrist and fighting to remember.

Kill her.

No. I struggle to see my way through, not understanding but knowing somehow that I shouldn't listen to the whispers. I must remain; there is another purpose here, something that I'm meant to do. Luca's tattoos come into sharper focus and I take a tentative breath, focusing on what is real. Distantly, I can hear the Madam barking orders but I stay the course, the lessons drilled into me during those long desert runs finally rising to the surface. I fight the whispers and bit by bit the cloud is banished, sent back to fester in the dark corners of my mind. Unfurling my stiff fingers from around my dagger I blink myself back into being, finding myself caught by Luca's stare.

A brief flash of light and a low rumble reverberates through the hangar. Instinctively we duck lower, both of us pretending not to notice that the near-miss has left me shaking.

"Barometric pressure dropping." Someone reports. "The storm has drifted North, North East."

"Adjusting direction." There is the sound of a rusty wheel being cranked.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I peek back out across the airship's dashboard. The Madam has moved out from under the tower and is now standing amidst all the action, surrounded by scrambling technicians and blinking equipment. The eerie stillness in her stance is multiplied by the Brutes lining the walls. Another flash of light reveals that there are at least thirty Brutes within to add to the untold number patrolling the levels below. Instinctively, my gaze darts to the only way out.

I find the tower alive.

A storm has gathered around it's peak, the silver point having somehow called to it. The occasional burst of lightening shows me an angry sky fraught with blue-black clouds.

Luca mutters some disbelieving oath to his gods and I nod mutely, not knowing how else to reckon with what we are seeing.

"Increase capacity." The Madam orders brusquely, her eyes never leaving the storm.

"We will lose power to the city."

Her head snaps towards the Tech, the suddenness of the action causing him to drop his clipboard. He fumbles attempting to pick it up, losing his spectacles in the process.

"I know perfectly well what the Vane is capable of." Her poisonous words are amplified by the rumble of thunder. "I built it and this dome from the bare dirt. Do you hear me? The bare. Dirt." Even I jump from her shouting and I imagine the poor Tech has been reduced to a puddle. "Your job is not to tell me the repercussions of my decisions. Your job is to do as I bloody well say."

"I'm so sorry, Madam. I-"

"Why are you still talking to me? Move."

The unfortunate Tech scrambles off to do her bidding, stumbling on his way over to the far wall. Finding a board full of hand-sized switches, he reaches for the largest one and yanks it down.

The lights overhead flicker, plunging us into blackness while the tower emits a frenzied whirring. A shudder caused by either the switch or the storm rocks the hangar and our airship sways on it's tether, tossing Luca and I onto the deck. The lights come back on as we right ourselves and I find the Techs casting fearful glances between the storm and the needles going haywire atop the machine.

Only the Madam and her Brutes remain still. The howling wind lifts the hair from her face and the lightening casts pointed shadows across her features, twisting them wickedly. Another gust of wind brings a strange, metallic taste on it's back and precedes a phenomenon so rare, that I would have never believed it if I weren't seeing it with my own eyes.

It begins to rain.

At first there are just a few drops, falling from the dome's openings and ricocheting between the slats in the ground. Then, the skies burst open.

The Techs' celebratory shouts intermingle with the sound of raindrops striking metal. Shielded by the airship's balloon Luca and I can only watch in amazement as the rain turns what was light to dark as it soaks the hangar and Babel below.

Through it all, the Madam gives no reaction. Her face is upturned and her eyes are shut, her expression impassive as the rain drips over her. As I watch, she slowly stretches her arms out to the sky, rivulets of water flowing down the sleeves of her robe and onto the floor. It is when she raises her palms to catch the rain that I notice a particular oddity.

The Madam has only one hand.

Unlike Gordy, the Madam has had her appendage replaced by some kind of implement, the likes of which I can't quite see. I am about to point out the amputation to Luca when another gust of wind rockets through the cavernous space and sends the ships careening into one another. Losing my footing on the unstable surface I crash into the ship's dashboard, slamming against a lever.

The airship awakens immediately, humming to life and alighting like a godsforsaken beacon.

"What in the—" Someone near the tower raises the alarm as I curse every deity known to man, exchanging a dreaded look with Luca.

"You there, Brute. Go and see to it." The Madam's command precedes the heavy tread of booted feet making their way toward us.

Luca withdraws his dagger and I do the same, our movements slow and soundless as I search fruitlessly for a way out. The ship rocks again as the Brute climbs aboard, finding us with our weapons in our fists and a decision in our eyes.

The Brute charges and Luca strikes, sweeping down low and knocking the soldier's feet out from under him. The Brute falls like a sack of bricks, pierced by my dagger before he hits the floorboards. I straighten, looking past the body slowly leaking black poison before me. Rain falls heavily in the space between us but the Madam's gaze finds mine immediately.

In the instant before all chaos breaks loose a thousand words are said. Her eyes narrow into slits and I manage to raise my chin the tracest amount before spinning in place to deflect the blow of the next Brute.

Shouts and thunder explode around us as the Madam is hustled from the hangar and the Brutes both inside and out are roused from their statue-like state. I hear them circling, heavy bootsteps rivalling the storm as they charge towards us. Two more Brutes fall and I look to Luca. He shakes his head, wordlessly dismissing my apology and turning to stand so that we are shoulder to shoulder. As the Brutes crest the airship the scarlet cloud pulses back to life, reminding me of one more piece of arsenal we have at our disposal.

Weapons raised, we prepare to welcome our guests.