“Ferdy...” Max shook his head desperately and continued in a darker whisper. “You're killing me. Everyone is listening. Sophie's already seen you. Couldn't you have been...inconspicuous?” The room seemed so silent when Max wasn't speaking, all except for the hanging pipes above them, chains creaking under the heavy weight of their bodies.
“You're suicidal, Ferdy!”
The two looked at each other solemnly until Max relented. Together they walked further into the chasm where all Malloy could see was shadow. This was a different type of shadow—the other knights were dimming his vision. Peck took his arm and steered him across an iron grate that echoed as if it were several floors from the ground. Everything smelled slick and bitter like axle grease.
When his vision recovered, they were standing in a space illuminated by halogen lights. It looked like it was originally a lunch room for the factory workers with tables drawn up under the orange glow. Yet, it's walls were ambiguous; salmon colored pipes and machinery were arching left and right, forming several paths leading to and from the area. Either the lights or something else unseen was making an electric humming noise that grated his teeth. It sounded so odd, as if it was coming from very far away, but it also had the sensation of coming from inside of his own skull.
Sitting at the far side was a large dirty tarp instead of who he thought it would be. Ferdinand looked at Max and he only shrugged.
“I guess Master Willt's going to be late today.” Max answered. “You're lucky. Actually, I'm lucky. I'm going to get out of here before he starts tearing you apart all disgusting.”
“Max. Is that it? The Destroyer?” Ferdinand asked, pointing to the large tarped contraption under the lights.
“Is it a hunch, Malloy?” Max asked sardonically.
“I can just go up there and touch it?”
“That's deranged, Ferdy. It's the ultimate weapon of every current universe. The thing Merlin thankfully didn't have hundreds of years ago.”
“Do you think its the Sword In the Stone?” Ferdinand stroked his chin with a grin.
“Ferdy.” Max muttered. “You are not pure in heart.”
“Then neither is Willt.” Ferdinand said, walking slowly towards the tarp. He crossed by the tables, gingerly stepping forward while Max stayed behind.
Emyr Willt loved traps, and there was bound to be something awful lurking in this room for curious fingers. Max was right, this was the most stupid thing that Doctor Malloy could have ever done, but here he was doing it, and he felt overwhelmed by a strange calm as he did.
Malloy stopped right before a line chalked on the floor. Now, only three feet from the monster, he waved a hand and commanded by his magic, the tarp flew off.
“Ferdinand Malloy!” Max yelled, “What is wrong with you?” Max ran up to the front of the room and stopped at the Doctor's shoulder. What stood before them was a machine unlike any they had ever seen.
Rivets and skinny pipes were arching through the left half of it, several wheels and cranks pushing through the tangled branches of electric wire. It was connected to a battery almost bigger than the machine itself; a pink liquid flowing through a glass tank that could fit an animal. There had to be a hundred eyes watching Malloy, but they were in as much shock as he.
“How are we still alive?” Peck asked quietly, mostly to himself.
The low humming noise seemed to slow, almost like it had a heartbeat.
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