Why Won't You Kneel?

The cast-iron turntable spun at a steady pace, producing a rhythmic clanking sound. Frey had heard that sound before in the Steam Engines of trains and airships.

He had once admired machines with that kind of industrial beauty, but now, he could not put his feelings into words.

Whips danced through the air, drawing blood from the believers. Beside them, a priest recited the tenets of Candlelight, while people nearby kept their heads lowered, too afraid to look. Taken together, that was Frey's first impression of Rhine.

Rhine, the jewel in the Empire's crown, the birthplace of industry, the City of Miracles.

Frey pulled his hood farther over his face.

He had seen crueller scenes before. When had nobles ever been merciful? Yet what lay before him still filled him with an indescribable disgust.

Machines seemed as though they ought to be something more sacred. Everything before him felt like... blasphemy.

Of course, he was only a commoner, not even a believer of the Candlelight Society. He had no right to accuse a priest of blasphemy.

But—

Frey discreetly surveyed the others in the queue, and his expression gradually turned strange.

These people were clearly believers of the Candlelight Society, yet upon witnessing the priest's conduct, every one of them lowered their heads in silence.

Frey had initially assumed they were afraid, but on closer inspection, something felt wrong.

Frey had spent his life among the lowest ranks of the city and had seen plenty of poor people like them. They ought to have been fearful, angry, perhaps even numb—but they should not have been so... fanatical.

Yes. What Frey saw on the other believers' faces was fanaticism.

From time to time, the believers secretly glanced at the machine that whipped people. Their expressions were devout and intoxicated, as though