"The central markets are already entering a state of total panic due to the metal blockade, Richter, and I need you to meet me at the botanical gardens right now to help me secure the supreme magistrate banking lines before the council steps in."
The voice message echoed one last time through Richter's private receiver before he purged the data log entirely. The transition from the smoke choked industrial foundries to the pristine, white iron structures of the Aethelgard Botanical Gardens was a testament to the absolute divide separating the social strata of the city. Here, high above the soot and the screaming steam whistles of the lower districts, the air was heavily filtered and artificially sweetened with the scent of imported jasmine and bio engineered orchids. Massive glass domes
