Kaelen’s polished exterior cracked, showing a flicker of genuine fear. "Because up there, we’re all gilded cages and scripted smiles. My father wants to glass the Lower Rings to build a 'scenic park.' You’re the only one with the tech to stop the launch."
"No? We’re both sitting in a basement, hiding from the same police, trying to keep a world from ending. If we're both flying toward the same sun, does it matter whose wings are real and whose are scrap metal?" [S1E2] Birds of a Feather
The neon hum of the "Aether & Ore" tavern was the only thing louder than Jax’s nerves. In the dive bars of the Lower Rings, people didn't just hang out; they coalesced like oil on water. Kaelen’s polished exterior cracked, showing a flicker of
"You have the drive?" Kaelen whispered, leaning in. His eyes darted toward the door, where a pair of Enforcers were hassling a street vendor. We’re both sitting in a basement, hiding from
"Birds of a feather," Jax muttered, echoing an old proverb his grandfather used. "We aren't the same, Jax," Kaelen countered.
Together, the mechanic and the aristocrat leaped through the back window, hurtling into the smog-filled abyss of the city. Two vastly different birds, finally forced to flock together.
Jax, a scrawny mechanic with grease permanently etched into his cuticles, sat across from Kaelen. Kaelen was a High-Flyer, a literal citizen of the floating Upper Spire. He wore silks that cost more than Jax’s entire workshop, yet here he was, nursing a glass of fermented sludge in the slums.