In the darkest, pre-dawn hour, when the roosters are having their last dreams before yelling as if their balls were being cut off alive, a bent naked guy crawled along the fence, hiding in the shadows.

Cyril got used to the cold and stopped shivering. He focused on wanting to die, but to do that, he had to revive another person.

How ironic. He chuckled in the shadows. And what a joy that I can fix everything.

The last time he was here, two days ago, the mechanic died in Cyril's arms. Cyril didn't know the man, and he wasn't sure if the mechanic could make a suitable gun. Cyril didn't know if the steam cannon, enhanced by the elemental's power, could finish him off. Even the idea of using an elemental as a power source had occurred to him after the mechanic's death.

I didn't even have time to ask his name. Curyl thought as he reached the ramshackle shed.

He cast a furtive glance to make sure that the agents of Fate had disappeared into the hangar, then pulled open the old door.

God!

A heavy smell hit his nose, and Cyril involuntarily leaned back. He breathed well, took a deep breath, and went back to the shed. A body lay on the wooden floor in front of him.

The mechanic was left lying just as Cyril had left him when Clara picked up Alice.

The mechanic couldn't be reached by crows here, and the rats had made good use of the corpses outside, so the mechanic looked a little better than the rest of the dead. But there was no place for the smell to escape, so the stench was unbearable.

The heat of the day had made sure that the flesh began to decompose, and many worms and insect larvae had already taken over the once-smiling guy. A flock of flies circled above him in a dance of death, discussing the festive table.

Holding his breath, Cyril grabbed the mechanic's leg and pulled him out of the shed. Only when he had gone a few steps did he allow himself to take a breath.

Cyril moved slowly, trying not to make any noise and hiding as close to the fence as possible and as far away from any light source as possible. So far, all the lights he could see were lanterns along the road and in the hands of agents.

The main thing is to get out of here before sunrise. Cyril thought, dragging the body. I don't care about the street lights, people here are still sleeping.

Ahead, he saw the alchemist. Kalim peered into the shadows.

"Cyril" He called in a whisper. "Is that you?"

"Hush." Cyril said, coming closer. "Grab his hands."

"I can't see anything in the dark." Kalim complained. Panting with excitement, he hovered around Cyril and stared stubbornly at the outlines of the bodies. "Is this a hand?"

"Yes. Mine." Cyril snapped.

Kalim took a step back and stumbled over a ledge in the ground. Whether it was a rock or a fragment of a Hissing Chariot, a corpse or a piece of roof, remained a mystery. But there was a clear cry of indignation.

"Oh, it hurts!"

Kalim hit his backside on a hard ledge that might have been a rock.

As if echoing a tearful cry, thick clouds parted in the sky and a half moon appeared.

"Quiet." Cyril hissed. "Come on, get up."

Without waiting for the alchemist, Cyril tugged at the corpse's leg, hoping the agents hadn't heard the scream. He was wrong. Two lanterns jumped out of the barn and hurried in the direction from which they heard a suspicious cry.

"Who's there? In the name of Fate, stop!" The Bloodhound captain's voice was menacing.

"Oh, fuck." Cyril hissed, and gave the alchemist a scornful look.

Cyril glanced back at the hangar and quickened his pace. Kalim, rubbing his bruised backside, caught up with him and grimaced at the awful stench. The moon was bright enough for Kalim to see the dead body. Stumbling, he managed to grab the man's arms and lift him off the ground.

"Stand down!" The captain growled from behind, but Kalim trusted the naked lunatic and boldly followed.

The alchemist knew that if they stopped, he could go to prison forever, or at worst to the scaffold.

It was at the worst, because if he died in the shadows, he would remain just a victim of his love of science, but others could continue to study the components of life. However, if Kalim was executed as a rogue who defied the king, other people would fear alchemy much more, and no one would risk doing science.

After defeating other races, king Phalos saw the superiority of magic over science. All human knowledge of physics, mathematics, mechanics, or alchemy could not protect them when the demons' army invaded the border cities. People were saved by mages from the Clean Heel clan.

The king offered the clan to become the main military force of the state, but the clan refused. From time immemorial, the Clean Heel clan spent time meditating and exploring the world, discovering water sources and building cities. The clan had supported the king in the last war only for fear of losing their lands, but they did not like to fight.

Offended by the rejection, king Phalos restricted the rights of the Clean Heel clan, brought the clan of Fate closer by appointing it the main intelligence force, and forced it to monitor the Clean Heel clan. Studying the way of life of the Clean Heel clan, the king was able to understand the principles of magic and set huge fees for teaching magic to young people.

Several members of the Clean Heel clan agreed to teach the youngsters, and magic became a respectable profession in the Kingdom. And any science that failed to save the Kingdom during the war was considered harmful to the state and was outlawed.

"I've always wanted to be an alchemist and prove that this science is underrated." Kalim puffed, trying to hold the heavy dead body.

"Save your breath, it's a long run." Cyril said. He really didn't want to kill the Bloodhounds.