In a vast clearing of the ruins, a towering steampunk fantasy recycling center looms over neat rows of scrap piles — iron, copper, crystal, and even chaotic heaps of magical debris. Cylindrical vents pierce the cavern ceiling, belching steam and smoke, while gears and arches make the facade feel like both cathedral and machine. Scrap is hauled through a massive arched gate by tireless warforged and automatons, then refined materials leave through a loading dock in small carts pulled by automaton horses. The air hums with heat, sparks, and clanging metal, the work grim but precise, as if the ruins themselves feed the endless forges. See more