The rain fell in sheets against the glass.

It was a thick, industrial rain. It smelled of oil and wet iron.

I stood at the window of the holding cell.

The bars were cold.

My hands were bound.

I watched the water run down the pane. It made strange shapes. They looked like faces. They looked like my brother.

My name is Arthur Vane.

I was a captain.

I wore the uniform of the night watch.

We kept the peace in the lower wards.

The factory hummed below us.

It was a living thing.

It breathed steam.

It exhaled heat.

I had served for ten years.

I knew the rhythms.

I knew the fears.

The men in the ward were quiet.

They did not speak of the past.

They did not speak of the home.

They only looked at the floor.

There was a new man.

His name was Elias.

He was my brother.

I did not know this at first.

He was small.

He was pale.

He sat in the corner.

He rocked back and forth.

His eyes were wide.

They were full of terror.

I watched him.

I tried to remember his face.

It was blurred.

Time had eaten it.

The ward was dark.

The gas lamps flickered.

The shadows danced.

I felt a pull.

It was in my chest.

It was a hook.

It pulled me toward him.

I turned to my superior.

His name was Major Thorne.

He stood by the door.

He held a ledger.

He wrote in it.

The pen scratched.

It was a sharp sound.

It cut the air.

Thorne looked at me.

His eyes were hard.

They were like stones.

"You are distracted, Captain."

His voice was low.

It was dry.

"I am observing the prisoners."

"Observe them better."

"I will."

He turned away.

He walked to the window.

He watched the rain.

I looked at Elias.

He stopped rocking.

He looked at me.

His face was a mirror.

I saw my own reflection.

I saw my own fear.

I saw my own shame.

We had been apart for years.

We had fought.

We had broken.

I had left.

I had taken the job.

I had become the eye of the machine.

I had become the hand that held the whip.

Elias was the one who stayed.

Elias was the one who suffered.

I felt a surge of anger.

It was hot.

It was red.

I wanted to break the bars.

I wanted to run to him.

I wanted to embrace him.

I wanted to burn the place.

But I could not move.

The chains were heavy.

The silence was heavy.

Thorne came back.

He stood in front of me.

He held a small object.

It was a key.

It was gold.

It shone in the dim light.

"You will take this to the sub-basement," he said.

"I will not."

"You will."

His voice was calm.

It was terrifying.

"Why?"

"Because it is your duty."

"I am a captain. I do not carry keys for ghosts."

Thorne smiled.

It was a thin smile.

It did not reach his eyes.

"You think you are the captain. You are the tool. The tool does not question. The tool obeys."

He placed the key in my hand.

My fingers closed around it.

It was warm.

It was alive.

I felt a vibration.

It traveled up my arm.

It entered my heart.

I heard a sound.

It was a whisper.

It was Elias’s voice.

"Run."

I looked at Thorne.

He was gone.

The cell was empty.

The bars were gone.

The walls were gone.

I was standing in the hallway.

The hallway was long.

It was dark.

The gas lamps were out.

Only the moonlight came in.

It was silver.

It was cold.

I ran.

I ran down the stairs.

The stairs were narrow.

They were steep.

I slipped.

I fell.

I hit the ground.

My shoulder cracked.

I felt the pain.

It was white.

It was sharp.

I stood up.

I kept running.

The sub-basement was at the bottom.

The door was iron.

It was massive.

It was locked.

I held the key.

I inserted it.

It turned.

It clicked.

The door opened.

A gust of wind blew out.

It was not wind.

It was breath.

It was the breath of the earth.

I stepped inside.

The room was circular.

The walls were stone.

The floor was stone.

In the center was a chair.

The chair was empty.

But I saw him.

Elias was there.

He was sitting.

He was bound.

His eyes were closed.

His face was peaceful.

I walked to him.

I knelt.

I touched his face.

It was cold.

It was stone.

I woke up.

I was in the cell.

The rain was still falling.

Thorne was standing there.

He held the ledger.

He was writing.

"You have failed," he said.

"I did not fail. I saw the truth."

"The truth is a lie. The lie is the truth. The cycle continues."

I looked at my hands.

They were clean.

They were empty.

I looked at the window.

The glass was cracked.

A spider web hung in the corner.

It was thick.

It was strong.

I felt the weight of the years.

I felt the weight of the blood.

I had killed for the system.

I had beaten for the system.

I had lied for the system.

I had broken my brother.

I had broken myself.

There was no escape.

There was no end.

The rain fell.

The factory hummed.

The night was long.

I closed my eyes.

I waited.

I waited for the dawn.

The dawn did not come.

The darkness deepened.

I was part of it.

I was the stone.

I was the iron.

I was the silence.

Elias was in my mind.

He was in my bones.

He was in my breath.

We were one.

We were the ghost in the machine.

We were the error in the code.

But the code did not care.

The code only ran.

It ran and ran.

It ran and ran.

I opened my eyes.

Thorne was gone.

The cell was empty.

The bars were gone.

I was free.

I walked out.

The rain had stopped.

The streets were wet.

They shone.

I walked into the city.

The city was sleeping.

The streetlights were on.

They were orange.

They were warm.

I walked to the river.

The river was black.

It was deep.

I looked into the water.

I saw my face.

It was old.

It was tired.

It was dead.

I saw Elias.

He was beside me.

He was young.

He was alive.

He was smiling.

I reached for him.

My hand passed through him.

He was a memory.

He was a dream.

He was a ghost.

I stood on the bridge.

The bridge was old.

It was made of iron.

It creaked.

It groaned.

I looked down.

The water was close.

It was inviting.

It was cold.

I stepped forward.

I stepped off.

The air rushed past me.

I fell.

The water hit me.

It was cold.

It was dark.

It was silent.

I sank.

I sank.

I sank.

I opened my eyes.

I was in the cell.

The rain was falling.

Thorne was writing.

I was bound.

I was alive.

I was trapped.

The cycle began again.

The rain fell.

The factory hummed.

The night was long.

I closed my eyes.

I waited.