Chapter 1: The Mechanic’s Shift
Ardyn was tinkering with a Galegear—one of the aerial rigs powered by wind-infused Aerolith stones—coaxing a jammed stabilizer ring back into place. Then a sound like thunder rising from the depths cracked the air—and the world tilted.
"Airquake!" he shouted.
The mechanic shop shook beneath his feet as wind roared through the cracks, rattling the rafters and flinging tools across the floor. Shelves broke loose from their brackets.
Then came a deep groan, low and wrong, rising beneath his boots.
The floor split—followed by a shriek of tearing metal.
Ardyn stumbled back just in time as part of the front platform sheared away, dragged into open sky. Only a few thick suspension wires kept the torn section from falling entirely—the planks hung tilted in the air, swaying, creaking.
And on them—the Cirran—the owner of the Galegear Ardyn had been fixing.
The Cirran sprawled near the edge, clutching the rim of a cracked beam with one arm. His other hung limp at his side, twisted at an unnatural angle. The wind pulled at him, trying to drag him off.
The Galegear boot vibrated in Ardyn's hand. He looked down—the Aerolith was pulsing.
Ardyn blinked.
That wasn't possible.
He was standing at the edge of the collapsed dock. The Cirran—twelve, maybe fifteen feet below—still clung to the broken support beam. Yet the Aerolith, the core embedded in the boot, was glowing. It was only supposed to react when its wearer was within a few inches. Not twelve feet. Not like this.
The quake subsided with one last rumble—the howling wind dropped into a low moan, like a giant exhaling. But the damage was already done. The cargo wire holding the platform creaked, threads snapping one by one.
His gaze flicked to the Cirran, then back down at the glowing Galegear in his hand.
The man's face twisted in panic. "Kid! Don't—don't even think about it! Just call for help!"
The cargo wires groaned, creaking like stretched steel on the brink of snapping. There wasn't enough time to call for help—the wires would give way any second now, or the Cirran's grip would fail.
Ardyn dropped quickly to one knee, fumbling to fasten the Galegear to his right boot. The internal brace hissed to life, bolts snapping into place around his ankle like iron fingers clenching tight.
"Kid, no!" the Cirran shouted again as Ardyn stood at the edge.
And he jumped.
Ardyn screamed, plummeting downward—right foot stretched out first, left foot bent beneath him, both arms spread wide like wings desperate to catch the wind.
Then a sudden jolt shot through his leg as the Aerolith flared bright. With a sharp hiss of compressed air and a powerful kick, the Galegear boot fired—not just slowing his fall, but halting it entirely.
His breath came in sharp gasps, heart pounding like it was trying to tear through his chest. For a moment, all he could do was hang there—suspended midair—eyes wide, lungs straining, the rush of near-death still roaring in his ears.
Then his senses returned.
He glanced around—below him, an endless sea of clouds rolled like a frozen ocean, glowing softly in the fractured light. All around, at eye level and beyond, hovered the sky isles—some small as drifting stones, others sprawling with jagged cliffs, windmills, and silver-leaved trees. They floated at different distances, scattered across the horizon.
"Look up here, kid!" the Cirran shouted.
Ardyn glanced up—and only then realized he'd fallen just a few feet past the man, hovering slightly below the shattered platform.
"You're doing great," the Cirran called down, voice tight but steady. "Don't look below. Focus on your breathing. Feel the Aerolith—sync with it."
Ardyn tried to steady himself, but the moment he shifted his weight, the boot jolted—his body tilted hard to the side. He spun halfway, swaying awkwardly as the sky and clouds blurred in his vision. His arms flailed, reaching for balance as the Galegear hissed beneath him, struggling to respond.
Ardyn forced a breath through his clenched teeth, willing his racing heart to slow. Steady. Steady.
And then—he felt it.
A soft vibration thrummed from the Aerolith, subtle at first, then stronger—matching the rhythm of his heartbeat. Like it was listening. Like it was syncing.
He shifted again, more controlled this time. Arms stretched wider for balance. Instead of letting his left foot dangle, he placed it lightly against the right, like stepping onto invisible ground.
The Galegear responded.
With a low hiss and a push of air, he began to rise—gradually, smoothly. The tension in his shoulders eased, just a little, replaced with awe and focus.
He floated up, climbing past broken beams and frayed cables, the ruined edge of the dock drawing closer. The Cirran was watching, clinging tight, his expression a mix of pain and surprise.
When Ardyn reached just below his level, the Cirran gritted his teeth. "Kid, listen—my other arm's busted. So here's what we're gonna do."
He nodded toward Ardyn's still-extended arm. "You hold that out. I'm gonna let go with this one and fall toward you—don't grab, just brace. I'll swing my good hand to your shoulder to balance us out. Got it?"
Ardyn gave a short nod, his throat too tight for words. He adjusted his posture, centering his weight as best he could, arm stretched out and ready.
The Cirran drew a sharp breath. "Okay. Here it comes. One..."
Ardyn's muscles tensed.
"Two..."
A breath caught in his chest.
"Three!"
The Cirran released his grip.
He fell fast—faster than Ardyn expected. Wind rushed between them, and for a heartbeat, Ardyn thought he'd miss. But then—
Impact.
The Cirran's weight hit his outstretched arm like a swung hammer. Ardyn's body dipped from the force, the Galegear boot hissing to compensate. He braced, muscles locking, heart hammering again. The Cirran's good arm snapped out, gripping Ardyn's shoulder.
They swayed. Just slightly.
For a few long, breathless seconds, they hung there—suspended, steady, not falling.
"You got me, kid," the Cirran said, his voice low with disbelief.
Ardyn didn't answer. He was too busy breathing.
"Now," the Cirran said between breaths, "do exactly what you did before. Breathe. Feel the Aerolith. Let it match you."
Ardyn nodded faintly, focused inward. His heart still raced, but he steadied it—just enough. The vibration answered. The Galegear pulsed beneath him like a living thing.
He exhaled slowly. The boot gave a soft hiss.
They began to rise.
It was slower this time—weighted, uneven. The Galegear strained, the internal brace emitting a low whine. Ardyn clenched his jaw. His leg trembled under the strain, but still they climbed—inch by inch, air rushing around them, the ruined dock growing larger above.
"You're doing fine," the Cirran said. "Almost there."
The edge of the platform came into reach. Jagged planks. Frayed rope. Splintered beams.
"Alright," the Cirran said, voice firm now. "We're gonna drift forward. Lean slightly in the direction of the platform—subtle. Too much and the boot will overcompensate. Ready?"
Together, they shifted. A faint hiss. The Galegear responded, pushing them forward in a shallow glide. Wind pressed against them. The weight tugged at Ardyn's balance, but he adjusted, breath by breath, micro-movements in sync with the Aerolith's pulse.
Closer. Closer.
Their feet hit the edge awkwardly—Ardyn's first, then the Cirran's. It was too much.
They tumbled.
Ardyn crashed shoulder-first into the platform, the Cirran rolling off him in a heap. Dust and splinters flew. Tools clattered somewhere behind them.
Silence.
Then a sharp laugh from the Cirran as he lay flat on his back. "That… wasn't half bad."
Ardyn groaned, staring up at the fractured sky above. "I'm alive. Somehow."
"Yeah, kid. We both are."