Moments later an explosion ripped through the air, causing their flight no small amount of turbulence. A loud sucking sound drew them both higher into the air before a secondary explosion tore through the world around them in a blinding light.

Looking behind him, Marcelus saw as chunks of what used to be the facility fell flaming to the under-city below. People cried out in terror as they tried to avoid the falling debris. The facility seemed to collapse in on itself but some chunks were sent flying wildly. Liquid aether poured out from the glowing husk of the crumpling building. Most of it evaporated but the larger globs splashed over buildings and bystanders alike, bathing them in what was essentially magic given form. Marcellus did not envy their fate in the slightest.

“Marcellus. The gap!” Ava called out above the rush of wind that whistled between their back turned ears.

One of the few gaps in the walls that separated each zone of Urbium was up ahead. This one was narrow but not so narrow as to make maneuvering difficult. With a slight adjustment of their arms their wings brought them through gap. All light was snuffed out for about three seconds as they flew into what amounted to a short tunnel. The sound of crackling wires and liquid filled pipes filled their ears. The world came back into view a moment later.

Below them sat the under-city of Zone 9. The ground was littered with ramshackle huts, homes made from old vehicles, factories of various shapes and sizes, and endless scrap yards. This is where those who could not afford the upper levels of Urbium came to live, toil, and eventually die. Foul air and smog was detectable even from their place in the air. Small shades of people like ants could be seen scurrying about, most of whom seemed to be rushing to the gates of Zone 10 only to find them on lockdown. Many others just looked on from where they stood and went back to whatever semblance of a routine any of them had.

All these people dreamed of one day being able to work their way up to the upper levels of Urbium. Little did they know that it cost much more than money to live on high. Influence was the true currency of the realm here. Those that knew that fact did well for themselves. Those that did not lived each day on the lie that if they could simply worked hard enough they could live the high life. Maybe once it was this way but no longer. Smart people knew better and moved on and away from Urbium while the hopes-and-dreamers stayed behind in the vain attempt of climbing Jacob’s Ladder.

I wonder how many of them would bother to think twice if they knew what really went on and what it took to run their gilded heaven above, Marcellus thought cynically but not unfairly. One way of gaining such influence in Urbium was joining the military as Marcellus did – or some other civil service. He learned fast that it was not nearly as glamorous as he was sold on it being. Despite that, he did well, rising through the ranks quickly - perhaps too well. Perhaps that’s why I am where I am. And for that same reason why they are where they are in this hole of a city, wondering why their city’s buildings are burning, instead of moving on to more hospitable locale.

Many came here seeking a form of paradise. Paradise was the one thing he still cared about and sought after. This place was certainly not it. And if there was any pleasure in this job to be taken – perverse or otherwise – reminding these people of that was certainly one of them.