The Garrison Heist

2817 Words
________________________________________ "Is love not foolishness? That I would stand before you with my heart unguarded That I would wish and hope That my tears will perhaps make you realize the wounds you're inflicting. Is love not foolishness? That I would do all that for you, who wouldn't take one step closer to me" ~Excerpt from the Records of the Sealed Annals~ __________________________________________________ Do you know how it feels to be seen? Heard? Held? Comforted? I do not. I never have. I mean it, quite literally. Life has been cruel to a girl that lost her world at thirteen, that lost the opportunity to live like the child that she was because the last flicker of childhood she had was snatched in a single night. A girl that lost her chance to continue being, "Just a girl." Grief was a luxury I couldn't afford, the will to survive was all that remained... And you know what they say, survival never waits for grieft. Hunger had set in quickly after that night. I still wonder on some days when I allow my mind to wander into the reality of the pain, how my frail body managed to drag Padre's lifeless body out the door, how I could survive the way my soul screamed of exhaustion and stain my fingers with sand that covered memories, digging a grave deep enough to contain his remains and be his home forever. Be strong. Be strong. Be strong. You're stronger than this. The whisperings in my head had continued to lament the same mantra. So not a single tear was shed after the last rock had covered the mound. The weight of that rock, still presses heavily against my chest. I'd been screwed over by my innocence and naivete more times than I could count. Fingers slapped for trying to reach for the substance that would fill my starving belly, hair pulled for looking different, body beaten for being weak. Alone in a sick, gruesome world. I decided to do what I knew how to do best so that I could live. Open locks. The first one I picked outside my home was to steal bread... the second, to escape a beating. By the third, I wasn’t just surviving... I was taking control. I understood that locks weren’t barriers. They were invitations, puzzles with consequences. So here we are... Tick. Click. Tick. Click. Tick. Click. The constant clicking and ticking of my wristwatch... my father's wristwatch... was really starting to get to me. The beads of perspiration rolling down my neck, my face, and trickling down my back weren’t helping things either. It was as though the walls themselves were sweating along with me. The heat in here was unbearable, suffocating. Whose brilliant idea was it to turn the passageway to one of the most secure vaults in history into a goddamn furnace? I hope they would suffer in hell for it. I had precisely an hour before the sun went down, and I could not be here when it did. Not unless I wanted this already shitty situation to blow up in my face. I was running late. An hour behind schedule. It had been quite an hassle getting into The Garrison. The most formidable military base in the continent, and most likely the entire realm. Breaking into a vault of the rarest treasures ever collected wasn’t going to be easy, but then again, if it were, it wouldn’t be worth it. There is no room in the world you can not get into with the right mindset... or the right skills. That's what Padre always always told me. This? This was the craziest heist I had ever attempted. You wanna know how I feel about it? Thrilled. Absolutely ecstatic. Can’t you tell? If you didn’t get the joke, I don’t know what to say to your lame ass. An astrarium lock. Only five of its kind ever created. And only one man with the legal authority to access all of them. The most feared man on the planet. The Emperor. Imperial Grand Monarch, High Chancellor, and Supreme Commander of the imperial army. A man so powerful that even whispers of his name were enough to make grown men piss their pants. Trust me, I've witnessed those disgusting situations a number a times. Three years of study, research, and bribery had brought me here. I wasn’t about to let all that hard work go to waste. I was crouched before the massive vault door, its surface a swirling pattern of glowing emerald celestial engravings, etched constellations faded with time, their meanings buried in lost languages and heavy with the weight of ages. The door wasn't just a mechanism, it was a monument. The core mechanism was an intricate dance of interlocking rings, planetary markers, and shifting symbols and every symbol was a threat, every click, a warning... Waiting for the right touch, the right pattern, the right thief. The astrarium lock was said to be unbreakable. Said to be. But I had learned long ago that no lock was ever truly unbreakable... just undiscovered. It stood before me like an unyielding titan, its smooth black metal shimmering faintly under the oppressive heat of the passageway. An artifact of impossible craftsmanship. I exhaled sharply, rolling my tense shoulders. I felt a single bead of sweat trace down my temple, the room’s infernal temperature pressing against my skin like a second layer. I barely had time to really focus before his voice buzzed in my ear. "Alright, tell me you've got this. Tell me you're looking at that masterpiece of mechanical hell, working things out and you're not just standing there being all dramatic." I sighed, adjusting the tiny earpiece. That was Wren. A loud, foolish orphan that had become obsessed with me from the moment I dropped stolen food at his doorstep. I didn't respond, I never do. He has never seen my face or heard my voice, not once in three years of working together. Only the satisfying click or groan of a job well done. That was my language. He was one of the firsts to spread the word about a virtous thief that only steals under the sun, the daylight robber. He was the first one to call me 'Ignareth'. In the ancient language of our people, it means "a flame that protects." A fire that burns the wicked but protects the weak and poor. He's only foolish because I think him to be so. In truth, he's actually a genius. A resourceful techsavant who handles all the traps, alarms, and surveillance the rich use to guard their treasures. He gives me the tools, the intel, and makes sure I escape unscathed. The life of a thief has never been easier. You can call him my henchman, though I doubt he'd admit what he is. The tale of our partnership and the long battle we've fought to get here will be told another day. I bit my lip, eyes scanning the lock’s surface. I could see the mechanism’s internal movements through a sliver of exposed gears. My mind raced, recalling the blueprints I had burned into my memory over years of research. "Now, tell me, how does it look?" Wren’s voice was smooth, laced with unbothered amusement. "You know, most people talk. It’s a thing we do. Builds trust, helps with morale, maybe saves lives." I don't understand why he hasn't resigned from his constant tries to make me speak. Must be really lonely for him. I ran my fingers over the edges of the lock, tracing the minute grooves that hinted at its shifting components. Five astral rings, all interlocked, constantly moving. If I don’t align them in the right sequence… well, let’s just say I’ll be making the evening broadcasts for all the wrong reasons. I pressed my fingers to the first ring, aware of its resistance, counting the ticks of each rotation. Ten symbols. Five alignments. Only one sequence that wouldn’t trigger the lockdown. I have to move fast and keep my eyes sharp. Rumor has it that the only thing the Emperor has to do to open this vault is wave his right palm over it. But like I said no lock is unbreakable, only undiscovered. And I discovered a way after much homework. Manual alignment. This meant engaging with the rings directly... a near impossible feat unless you could read the movement of stars like an ancient astronomer. Once the sequence had been initiated, all five alignments must be completed within two-hundred seconds or the lock would reset and trigger a lockdown of this passageway and a grand warning throughout The Garrison. I slipped two fingers into the first ring, feeling the vibration of its motion. It was a puzzle, a cosmic dance of balance and order. One misstep, and the entire thing would spiral out of my control. I watched the celestial etchings pulse as the gears began to shift beneath them, endlessly rotating. "Wren to silent fireball. How’s my favorite mythical thief doing?" No response. "Fireball. You have about one hundred and sixty seconds before this thing resets and sends out a lovely little distress signal to the guards upstairs and everything comes crumbling down. Do you copy?" Silence. Only I could hear the ticking and clicking of my wristwatch. The first ring clicked into place. "Ha! I heard that. Or, well, I heard nothing, which is your way of celebrating. Moving on." The i***t had began to converse with himself as usual. Second ring is trickier. Rotates in reverse. I needed to wait for the comet crest to match the mirrored arc. And there was no missing the mark. The second ring needed to be moved counterclockwise first. My fingers deftly navigated the intricate layers, twisting and adjusting. I was already halfway through, timing the movement by instinct and memory. The comet approached, and with the flick of my wrist, I locked the second ring. A soft whir. Smooth. And... Click. Good. I adjusted my grip, sweat dripping from my brow onto my sleeve. "You've got one hundred and twenty seconds. No pressure." His voice buzzed in my ear like a persistent fly. Third ring can only be described as cruel. The Internal core is magnetized and shifts based on body heat. If I touch it too long, it reconfigures the alignment and will most likely roast me alive. I won't be touching it. I had designed twin ghost picks specifically for this moment, a tool particularly intended to bypass traps that react to touch. Slim and precise, non-conductive, non-magnetic and heat resistant lock pins made of zirconia ceramic and carbon fiber. I watched the tip shimmer faintly as I pulled it out my side pouch, then slid it into the third ring’s center. The heat mapped to the motion, triggering a soft internal shift. I moved gently, guiding it like a sun through a sky I couldn’t see. "Sometimes, I wonder if this is all a dream, a game my mind is playing on me and you're not actually real, and we're not doing this right now." More silence. Except the subtle scrape of my tools meeting the lock. Another click. Almost there. Wren sighed, muttering mostly to himself now. Fourth ring. The core of this ring had been retrofitted with a defense sequence, which was not part of the original design. An anti-tampering protocol. If I shift this ring without triggering the fail release first, I have no idea what will happen and I don't plan to find out. But I know I have to look for a false constellation, somewhere near the southern arc. One of the sigils has no celestial counterpart. Tap it twice, then rotate the fourth ring backwards. That’s my kill-switch. My eyes scanned the carvings. Ten symbols, each one ancient, sacred. Then I see it, an etched sun with too many rays. False. I tap it once, twice, and shift the fourth ring with trembling precision. I inhaled deeply. A soft click locking in a delicate, precise rhythm. And then, the final ring. One more to go. "You’ve got this," Wren whispered, the humor gone. "Just one more ring." I reached for it, but something felt off. My instincts screamed at me. My fingers hesitated over the final piece. It couldn't be this easy. It had been too easy, too simple... too fast. But I couldn't place my thumbs on what was wrong and I couldn't hesitate much longer, I had fifty seconds left so there could be no holding back. No chance for that. Throwing caution to the heat of the moment, I let my fingers glide over the last ring... The central sun disk. It was a test. I had read about it in an old archive, buried in forgotten documents. The last mechanism was a failsafe. The lock could be completed in two ways... One path opened the door, the other triggered an alarm that would re-seal the entire vault and leave me to a deadly fate. Two symbols. Nearly identical. But one led to freedom, the other to a slow, painful death. No one has ever attempted to break this lock so no one knows the answer to this puzzle... If I'm lucky enough, I would live with the knowledge. I swallowed hard, my heartbeat a war drum in my ears. I had exactly forty seconds before the lock reset itself, meaning I’d have to start from scratch under mounting pressure... If I even survive to get that chance. The first symbol looked right. Everything in me screamed to press it. But something was off. A small discrepancy in the pattern. Barely noticeable. A trick for the overconfident. Thirty seconds. I forced my breathing steady. If I was wrong, this entire job was over. My life was over. Twenty nine seconds. I took a gamble. My fingers twisted, pressing the second symbol instead. A tense pause. The longest moment of my life followed by a shrill beep. The lock's inner mechanisms ground to a halt. Twenty two seconds My blood runs cold as I yank my hands back, the final ring beginning to glow, a deep crimson light seeping into its emerald engravings. A fail-safe trigger. Like the vault had been expecting something like this even though no one in their right headspace would dare what I have. Twenty one seconds What just happened? What is happening? What is going to happen? Twenty seconds My thoughts begin to rhetorically question me and well on cue Wren’s voice begins to hammer in my ears... "Did something happen? It's not over? Are we done for? Talk to me goddammit!" His voice was sharp now, panic creeping in. I should not have done this. What was I thinking? This will be the end of my life. ten seconds. nine seconds. eight seconds. All the blood rushing to my head finally makes it fall into place. It seems the final ring was rigged. The moment I touched it, it activated a secondary security measure. I need to disengage it, and soon. seven seconds. My mind raced. Think. Think. Think. The security measure wasn’t part of the original design, it must have been an upgrade. That meant a hidden release mechanism. But where? four seconds. I scanned the surface of the vault, searching until... There. A tiny imperfection, nearly invisible, just beneath the lowest ring. A failsafe trigger disguised as a decorative inlay. three seconds. I hurriedly pulled a pin from my belt and jammed it into the crevice. two seconds. Silence. The red glow flared, then faded, then vanished. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. The final ring clicked. A deep, mechanical hum resonated through the chamber as the astrarium lock disengaged, gears rolling back, celestial rings shifting into place. The vault door shuddered, then hissed, air decompressing as the massive door cracked open, hot air rushing out to greet me like a bellowed promise. I let out a slow breath, my fingers still trembling. I'm in. Padre was right. There was no room I couldn’t get into. "Oh damn, damn, damn it. You almost gave me a heart attack..." Wren continues to ramble but I was too busy not listening to him, walking in to get the cargo that would change my life for good, but then... I couldn’t believe what I had just walked into to lay my eyes on. "Okay, please turn on your camera or just freaking tell me what you see, I'm dying of the claws of curiosity here." I never give him a response but even if I could, shock had taken a hold of my breath and tongue... "Come on! Just show me... Do I have to beg for this now? Alright, please, please, please." But what could I possibly show him, I was staring at nothing too because the vault was... empty.
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