Tides of Ironhaven Harbor

Prologue

Ironhaven Harbor groans. The sound is unmistakable to anyone who has lived long enough in the floating city—a deep, metallic shriek as another anchor-chain snaps under the weight of corroded steel and unknown pressure. Eleven chains remain. The perpetual fog that shrouds the harbor seems to press closer with each failure, and the city's engineers have begun to whisper numbers: not days, but hours until the next chain gives way. Two years ago, the Leviathan—a colossal airship-carrier and symbol of Ironhaven's industrial might—sank into the Shrouded Deeps under circumstances officially deemed "catastrophic accident." Since then, the deep ocean has been off-limits, its waters choked with bioluminescent fog and electromagnetic anomalies that render most vessels useless. But now the city has no choice. Replacement anchor-chains lie within the Leviathan's wreck, and the Council of Engineers is offering substantial contracts to any salvager willing to descend into that nightmare. Competing factions circle like vultures: the Harbor Authority with their bureaucratic caution, the Rust Syndicate with their ruthless efficiency, and countless independent prospectors willing to kill for a salvage claim. But beneath the surface, a darker truth stirs. The chain failures are no accident. Someone has engineered this crisis—someone with access, power, and motive. And in the depths of the Shrouded Deeps, where the wreck rests in crushing darkness, something older than Ironhaven itself is beginning to wake. Time is running out. The city drifts closer to oblivion with each passing hour.