The guest washroom had been more luxurious than any room Tess had been in. Real tile, a mirror that wasn’t cracked, and water that ran hot without sputtering. She’d done what she could with the dust and substrate residue, but her clothes were still filthy and her tool belt looked like it had been dragged through a maintenance shaft.
Which, of course, it had.
Tess made her way back through the corridors toward the receiving hall. Her legs ached. Her hands were sore from the precision work. The level-up had helped—cleared some of the exhaustion, sharpened her focus—but she was still ready to collapse.
Jeremy waited in the hallway outside the receiving hall, standing with perfect posture and holding a small metallic card.
“Miss Rivera.” He inclined his head. “The Duke asked me to provide your payment.”
He extended the credit chit. Tess took it, turning it over in her hand. The balance display read 750 credits.
She frowned.
“Seven-fifty,” she said slowly. “The washing machine paid three thousand.”
“Yes, Miss Rivera.”
“This was a bigger job than the washing machine. Way bigger. The entire estate almost lost environmental control.”
Jeremy’s expression remained perfectly neutral. “Perhaps it would be prudent to consider the initial payment a signing bonus.”
The words hit like cold water.
Signing bonus. Not payment for the washing machine repair. Payment for agreeing to work here in the first place. For accepting the Duke’s offer. For walking into House Tertian’s world and staying.
Tess stared at the credit chit in her hand. It was still a ton of money but...
Three thousand credits. A bribe dressed up as a job, just like Petra had said.
She’d known the Tertians were manipulating her. Known they wanted something. But seeing it laid out so plainly—the difference between what they’d pay to secure her and what they’d pay for actual work—hit harder than she expected.
“I see,” she said.
“The Duke values your skills highly, Miss Rivera. As does the rest of House Tertian.” Jeremy’s tone was measured, professional. “Seven hundred and fifty credits is our standard rate, plus the bonus for rapid response.”
“Right.” Tess pocketed the chit. It was still good money. More than she’d make from a month of work in Sector 7. But it stung.
Jeremy clasped his hands behind his back. “The Duke has also asked me to show you something, if you have time.”
“What kind of something?”
“A workshop. On the estate grounds. He thought you might find it useful for future repairs here.”
Tess looked at him. “A workshop.”
“Yes, Miss Rivera. It has been unused for some time, but the Duke believes it may suit your needs.”
A workspace on the estate. Tools, equipment, room to spread out instead of working in cramped maintenance corridors or environmental cores. It made sense—and that was exactly what worried her.
“All right,” Tess said. “Show me.”
***
Petra appeared in the corridor a moment later, looking refreshed and wearing an entirely new set of clothes. She fell into step beside Tess as Jeremy led them through the estate.
“You survived the washroom,” Petra said.
“Barely. Your tile is intimidating.”
“Wait until you see the conservatory. We have a fountain.”
BEE: A fountain implies decorative water expenditure. Is that level of waste common for noble houses on Tertius-Prime?
“Are fountains normal for Noble houses? Bee says that’s wasteful,” Tess asked.
Petra shrugged. “Depends on the house. We’re not as extravagant as some families. Ours actually recycles.”
BEE: That seem less wasteful. I approve marginally.
“She approves marginally,” Tess relayed.
Petra grinned. “I’ll take it.”
They passed through a side door into the estate gardens. Tess had glimpsed them from windows, but walking through them was different. Actual plants—not scraggly hydroponics or salvaged grow boxes, but real vegetation. Paths wound between flower beds and low hedges. The air smelled green.
“This is all Aether-sustained?” Tess asked.
“Mostly solar supplemented with Aether,” Petra said. “My mother insisted on the gardens when they renovated the estate. Said if we’re going to live on a dying world, we should at least remember what living looks like.”
Jeremy led them along a path that curved away from the main estate building. The workshop came into view after a few minutes—a low structure of weathered ferrocrete, half-hidden by overgrown plantlife. It looked old. Pre-Network construction, if Tess had to guess. It looked like it might have been here even before the estate.
“Here we are,” Jeremy said.
The path continued for another few hundred meters back toward the estate. Tess turned, looking at the main building in the distance. You could see it through the gardens, but it was far. Isolated. Quiet.
“The Duke uses this?” Tess asked.
“Not in many years. It was quite active before the dungeon was sealed, but it has sat unused since.”
They reached the workshop entrance—a heavy door with an old-style mechanical lock. Jeremy produced a key and opened the door. The hinges creaked softly.
Inside, the workshop was spacious. Workbenches lined the walls, their surfaces covered in a layer of grime. Tool racks hung bare. Diagnostic stations sat dark and offline. Power conduits ran along the ceiling, but none of them glowed with active Aether flow.
Tess stepped inside, boots echoing on the ferrocrete floor.
The bones were good. The space was solid. Everything was derelict from disuse, not damage. The benches were sturdy. The power conduits were intact. Even the lighting fixtures looked functional, just unpowered.
“It’s been empty a long time,” Jeremy said. “But structurally sound. The Duke will provide reimbursement for any repairs or restocking you require, should you choose to use it.”
Tess walked to the nearest workbench and ran her hand along its surface. Dust came away in a streak, revealing smooth metal underneath.
“Why give me a whole workshop?” she asked. “I’ve got Rivera’s Repairs.”
“You are likely to be here regularly,” Jeremy said. “It seemed practical to offer proper workspace. The alternative is continuing repairs in maintenance corridors and environmental cores.”
Sensible. Of course, it made sense. It was also another thread tying her to this place, another reason to stay, another way House Tertian could position her exactly where they wanted.
But it was also a real workshop. Space to work. Room for tools and equipment she couldn’t fit on the freighter. Access to estate systems without crawling through vents.
BEE: The offer appears genuine, if strategically motivated. You would benefit from a dedicated workspace.
“I know,” Tess said.
Petra walked along the far wall, examining the empty tool racks. “Alex might know what used to be here.”
“Speaking of Alex,” Tess said, “where is he?”
“Right here,” Alex said from the doorway.
Tess turned. Alex stood at the entrance, looking around the workshop with an expression she couldn’t quite read. Not hostile. Not exactly friendly either. More like… resigned curiosity.
“The Duke asked me to join you,” he said. “Thought I should see the space, since we’ll apparently be working together.”
“You’ve never been here?” Petra asked.
“Once or twice. Never had much use for it.” He stepped inside, hands in his pockets. “It’s been abandoned since before I started working for House Tertian. Just storage for old equipment, mostly.”
Tess watched him move through the space. He wasn’t defensive anymore—the tension from earlier had faded. He looked tired, like the day had drained him as much as it had drained her.
“Will you use it?” Alex asked.
“Maybe. Still deciding.”
“For what it’s worth, I think you should.” Alex gestured at the empty benches. “You’re going to need a proper workspace if we’re doing larger repairs like today’s. And it’ll be nice to work with someone who can actually see what I’m missing.”
He said it without bitterness. Just fact.
“Thanks,” Tess said.
Alex nodded. “I should get back. It’s been a weird day.” He glanced at Petra. “Lady Petra, Miss Rivera.”
“Alex,” Petra said.
He left through the main door, footsteps fading down the path.
BEE: His emotional state has stabilized significantly. I believe today’s collaboration was beneficial for him.
“Yeah,” Tess murmured. “I think so too.”
***
Petra moved to the back of the workshop, where a row of diagnostic stations sat dormant. She ran her hand along one screen, leaving a clean streak through the film.
“This place must have been something before,” she said. “Dozens of people working here, maintaining dungeon-tech systems.”
“Jeremy said it was active before the dungeon was sealed,” Tess said.
“Makes sense. When the dungeon was operational, there was a lot more tech to maintain. More Aether flow, more delvers, more equipment cycling through.” Petra looked back at her. “You’d be bringing it back to life.”
“Or getting pulled deeper into whatever your family is planning.”
Petra’s expression flickered. “We’re not—” She stopped. “Okay. That’s fair. But my father really does just want to give you workspace.”
“And tie me closer to the estate.”
“That too. But would that be so bad?”
Tess didn’t answer. She walked to another workbench, examining its surface. The metal was worn but solid; clearly from years of use. Someone had worked here. Built things, fixed things, spent hours at this bench doing the same work Tess did now.
Her hand traced a groove in the metal—deeper than surface wear. She frowned, leaning closer.
There was a pattern. Faint lines scored into the bench’s surface, mostly sanded away but still visible if you knew where to look.
A symbol.
Tess froze.
A stylized tree growing out of a cog. The trunk split into branches that curved upward, roots tangling through the gear’s teeth. She’d seen this before.
In the tutorial. On a broken piece of plasteel armor. Old, forgotten, left in a maintenance room where no one would look.
“What is it?” Petra asked, moving closer.
“This symbol.” Tess traced the lines with her finger. “Someone tried to remove it, but you can still see it. Do you know what it is?”
Petra leaned over the bench, squinting at the faint marks. “Maybe? We’ve bought a lot of old equipment over the years. Could be from wherever this bench came from.”
“It’s called Techno-Arbor,” Tess said slowly. “I saw it in the dungeon once. Bee said they were disbanded over a long time ago.”
BEE: Are you alone with Petra?
“Yeah Bee, you can talk.”
“The Techno-Arbor Guild is one of the few historical records I still have access to. 180 years ago they were formally disbanded following Network expansion accords. They fostered sustainable relationships with dungeons. Though my records of what happened to their members have been thoroughly purged.”
“Almost 200 years ago?” Petra asked. “How have I never heard of them?”
“I hadn’t either,” Tess said. “It was a fluke when I was in a tutorial maintenance closet.”
Tess straightened, looking around the workshop with fresh eyes. Old construction. Pre-Network. Active when the dungeon was operational. And somewhere, at some point, someone had tried to erase the Techno-Arbor symbol from this workbench.
“How long has this workshop been here?” Tess asked.
“I don’t know. It’s been here as long as I have.” Petra frowned at the symbol. “Is it important?”
“Maybe.”
“I recommend further investigation. The presence of Techno-Arbor insignia on House Tertian property is noteworthy,” Bee said.
Petra crossed her arms, studying the faint symbol. “I can ask my mother about it. She knows the estate’s history better than anyone.”
“Yeah. Do that.”
Tess took one more look around the workshop. Empty benches, dark conduits, dust-covered equipment. And beneath it all, a symbol someone had tried to erase but couldn’t quite remove.
House Tertian wanted her here. Wanted her working, leveling up, getting closer to their systems. And now she was standing in a workshop marked with a symbol from a Guild that had been disbanded nearly 200 years ago, offered as if it were just practical workspace.
Nothing the Tertians did was simple.
“I’ll think about it,” Tess said finally.
“The workshop?” Petra asked.
“All of it.”
***
Jeremy walked her back to the estate entrance, where the tram platform waited. The sun was lower now, late afternoon bleeding into evening. Tess’s legs ached with every step.
“Thank you for your work today, Miss Rivera,” Jeremy said as they reached the platform. “I will inform the Duke of your interest in the workshop.”
“I didn’t say I was interested.”
“You did not decline.”
Fair point.
The tram was nearly full when it arrived, and Tess climbed aboard. She found a seat near the window and collapsed onto it.
BEE: You are exhausted.
“Yeah.”
BEE: But you performed exceptionally today. The environmental core repair was complex, and your collaboration with Alex was effective.
“Thanks, Bee.”
BEE: The workshop is a significant offer. But I agree with your caution. House Tertian’s motivations remain layered. I will continue to track possibilities. Though the probability of assassin training has declined substantially.
Tess chuckled and leaned her head against the window, watching the estate grounds disappear as the tram pulled away. The workshop sat in the distance, half-hidden by gardens and plant life. Quiet. Isolated. Marked with a symbol no one had fully explained.
She pulled out the credit chit and looked at it again. Seven hundred and fifty credits. Good money. Real payment for emergency repair work.
And three thousand credits before that, just for showing up.
The tram carried her back toward Sector 7, toward the docks, toward Rivera’s Reprieve and Marcus and the familiar clutter of home. But part of her mind stayed at the estate, tracing the lines of a tree growing from a cog, wondering what the Tertians weren’t telling her.
BEE: Are you going to accept the workshop?
“Of course I am.”
BEE: Would you like my assessment?
“Always.”
BEE: The workspace is genuine and would benefit your work. But House Tertian is positioning you deliberately. They are not hostile, but they are strategic. I recommend proceeding with caution and clear boundaries.
Tess closed her eyes, letting Bee’s words settle.
“Yeah,” she said. “Nothing changes from before. It just goes deeper than I wanted.”
The tram hummed through the city, carrying her home. Behind her, the Tertian estate faded into the distance. Ahead, Sector 7 waited—familiar, chaotic, hers.
And somewhere in between, a dusty workshop that held secrets waited for her to return.