Escape - Chapter 44.1

Schedule: Wed and Sat

Chapter 44.1

Before her vision could fully return, her hearing kicked in. A low, persistent hum vibrated through her, reaching from her ears to her skull. The whirring of conveyor belts, the grinding of interlocking gears, and the general cacophony of factory machinery assaulted her senses. Finally, her sight flickered back online.

“A furniture factory.”

The world revealed itself in shades of gray, as if all the vibrant colors had been leached out and given to the world outside. The ceiling soared impossibly high, easily tall enough to stack dozens of grown men. Tiered conveyor belts moved relentlessly, and perched on them, working like cogs in the machine, were rows of fairies.

Some hammered nails into tables, others sanded wood, and still others oiled the machinery. The scene of industrious labor felt strangely at odds with the fairytale world outside.

“Uh, can I help you? It’s not order pickup day. Is there something you need?”

A man in gray overalls and a matching cap approached, his expression puzzled. He clearly mistook them for employees from Leon. Adeline studied him for a moment before replying.

“Actually, there’s a problem with our last order. See that over there?”

She casually pointed beyond him, and as the man turned to follow her gesture, Adeline swiftly struck the back of his neck with the edge of her hand. The thud was swallowed by the factory noise as the man crumpled like a marionette with its strings cut.

“D-did you just…? That’s the foreman!”

Rune’s voice was laced with undisguised panic. He stared, aghast, at the unconscious man. A few nearby fairies glanced up, momentarily distracted, but their hands continued their tireless work.

“I know. He looks exactly like a foreman should. But if they’re going to track us here, he’s no use to us.”

“I didn’t know heroes lied.”

“Heroes are allowed to lie. You’re a prince, so you’re not.”

Damian chuckled at her brazen response. Adeline unzipped the foreman’s overalls and was about to pull his arm free when a strong grip clamped around her wrist. It was Damian.

“What are you doing?”

He asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips, but his half-lidded eyes glinted with a cool intensity. Adeline tilted her head, glancing from the unconscious man to Damian.

“What does it look like? I’m undressing him.”

His expression grew colder.

“Why?”

“I need these clothes.”

The grip on her wrist loosened, not in understanding, but in resignation. He released her and began removing the foreman’s clothes himself.

“Oh, thanks for the help,” Adeline blinked, accepting the offered overalls.

A burst of laughter echoed through the factory. Adeline turned to see Rune, his single wing fluttering as he clutched his stomach.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re a good fighter, but you have no tact.”

“Me?”

She was incredulous. Instead of praise for her quick thinking, she was being accused of lacking tact? She arched an eyebrow, ready to retort, but Rune continued.

“Anyway, there’s nowhere to hide here. We need to get to the forge. I have friends there who can help.”

His face brightened at the thought of seeing his friends again. Adeline nodded, her gaze falling on the foreman, now clad only in his white undershirt and boxers.

“Let’s hide him first.”

She scanned the area but saw no sign of other workers. Perhaps one foreman was all this massive factory needed, a testament to how little the humans actually contributed. Moving the foreman proved easy, thanks to Damian’s, albeit begrudging, assistance. He hoisted the man over his shoulder and carried him to a storage room deep within the factory, where they gagged and bound him securely.

Adeline donned the foreman’s overalls and cap over her uniform. She’d initially considered disguising Damian, but the foreman’s broad shoulders made it impossible.

“That bad?”

“It doesn’t suit you.”

Damian replied, his brow furrowed. He seemed to be growing more expressive, his preferences more defined. His speech, too, had become more natural with time. It was like watching a newborn rapidly acclimate to society, or perhaps someone rediscovering a long-dormant skill.

‘Natural’ wasn’t quite the right word. ‘Human’ was closer, but ‘like Damian’ was the most accurate. Now she understood the difference between the Damian she’d first met and the one she knew now. He must have interacted with many humans in the interim, learning about the players and this world.