[@Thinslayer]

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The man eyed the damp cellar of the castle with reticence, his worn boots descending the small tortuous steps to the chambers beneath. He inhaled deeply, manifesting his tiredness to the world, even if few people could hear. He was an average, toned man, in the garb of those who roamed around. Hunters. Often scavengers. And often those scavengers, covered in leathers and hoods, were the ones with the keys of knowledge ages past.

The heart of the city was ancient, and the mists of time had eroded the knowledge about its structure and function to all but a few who were lucky enough to seize the tiny fragments of those that had Come from the Stars. Such was Sykes, the man who now stopped, his nose frowning upon seeing a rat the size of a small house animal scurry past his feet. Truly, the power plant, one of the greatest assets of Midhaven, needed every single maintainance it could get, judging by the signs of disrepair that were more evident as he descended into the small cubicle full of mirrors which in the ancient tongue of the starmen was inscribed as "Control Room." The scavenger eyed his companion. A mage of no small talent, a confident of the Archmage, and ultimately the King. He was to be their eyes, for one could not leave such an asset unguarded. Sykes coughed, and extended his hand in a bump in the cold metal door. Clearing his throat, he chanted.

"Oh, ancestors, grant me passage." He said, while straining his visage, as if he was performing some kind of magic feat. And the ancient machines answered, springing to life in a slow, lamenting noise. Doors of metalwork without match in this era slid open, revealing the damp, ghastly interior. Sykes didn't hesitate, as he step inside the unknow.

And just like that, the door sealed shut. Apparently the machines had only found Sykes worthy of passage.

At least that was the official version, Sykes thought. He was no scavenger, no specialist in ancient technology. He himself was a piece of living past, but in a world of reality warping features known as magic, mutants and in general backwater societies, it would be wise to keep his true past to all but himself. Long gone were the days where he gazed at the virgin skies, from the spaceship... and wondering how the colonization would happen. Forgotten by the world at large, and cast in a retrograde future, he lived to get by, wishing to repair what had gone wrong.

Damp, and in disrepair, the control room felt more nostalgic and homely than a hundred inns to the ancient engineer. "I am sorry master Vanarys, the machines of the ancients are fickle. They do seem to want me and me only. I am safe, but for the time being we might be incommunicated for a bit." He lied. Truth to be told he know the command to override the door safety and allow it open, but he would not tell. He only hoped the mage on the other side was sensible and did not wrench the door open with the powers of his mind.

His eyes traced in the barely lit dark the keys of a metallic keyboard. After a few strokes, and dusting a few cobwebs, the device was up and running.

The mirror-like screen flickered to life as he brushed his hand slightly. The mere proximity of the mark on his left hand served as identification for a lot of systems, he did not need to use handwaving and voice commands, but it was better to keep the performance in public, as he had done so earlier.

[code]
>Antaeus Inc Reactor 3TF-669B 
>Last login, XXX of the XXX.
>HELLO SYKES, WELCOME BACK.
[/code]

The ancient machine displayed, an automated message he himself had configured centuries ago whenever he identified himself. Sykes wasted no time in typing, stroking the keyboard with a swiftness unseen in ages, the room half in shade and in the dark.

[code]
>Power output 48%
>Maintenance required on sectors 4B, 4C, Main, AUX, and SCONTROL.
[/code]

He sighed, as he eyed the data. Several parts were clogged or corroded. However, some of them could resist some more wear, and the trick of flushing some more coolant in some of the lines seemed to do the trick for some issues. He wished he still had the tools he had landed with. He could probably bring the reactor to its optimal treshold. But that would have to do for a little more.

[code]
>Power output 57%
>Lines on 4C Restored.
>Proximity alert triggered.
[/code]

"Hm?" Sykes eyed the screen, as a low key alarm began to ring. "Uh, that is odd." He said loud, hoping to quell the mage on the other side of the door. "Apparently the machine sensed something outside." Sykes added. Well, it was true enough. He pondered. Maybe he could...

[code]
>SkyEye Uplink connected
>Panel in SCONTROL Deploying
>Obstruction found. Overriding...
[/code]

Sykes gasped, as ancient system went online, connecting the old satellite network positioning system to the video feed of the plant systems. He had eyes now...

But not only him. Somewhere, in the Superior Control Room, which happened to be located in the same place of the Throne room, a panel shuddered to life, tearing through tapestries and displaying alien, shifting images of the aerial view of Midhaven...albeit from a mind-boggling height. Rings of light and strange words appeared in several dots that surrounded the castle.

Well, he probably would have something to explain after that, Sykes thought bitterly...