The Guild Hall definitely looked worse in better lighting. Tess had found the environmental controls an hour ago, coaxing the ancient systems back to life. Now, pale illumination strips lined the ceiling, revealing decades of accumulated grime in merciless detail. Dust coated every surface. Some sort of sticky string draped between the stone pillars like abandoned decorations. The workbenches that had seemed so solid in emergency lighting were actually caked with rust and old grease.
She’d started with the nearest bench, scrubbing at the surface with a rag she’d found in the workshop above. The work was mindless and repetitive—exactly what she needed after the conversation with Sara.
BEE: You have been cleaning for forty-seven minutes.
“I’m thinking.”
BEE: You can think and rest simultaneously. I have observed humans doing this frequently.
“I think better when my hands are busy.” Tess attacked a stubborn stain. “Besides, someone has to deal with this. When was the last time anyone was down here?”
BEE: Sara Tertian stated at least forty years.
“Forty years of grime. And Sara just expected me to fix the elevator like it was nothing.”
BEE: I don’t think she expected it. And to be fair, you fixed the elevator like it was nothing. The splice took five minutes. You said so yourself.
Tess scrubbed harder. “That’s not the point.”
BEE: What is the point?
Before she could answer, the lift mechanism hummed to life above her. Tess looked up as the storage room descended, panels sliding apart to reveal Petra Tertian standing in the center of the platform.
Petra’s eyes went wide.
She stepped off the lift before it fully settled, turning in a slow circle to take in the Guild Hall—the stone pillars, the tree-and-cog symbols carved into every surface, the dungeon elevator waiting at the far end.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
“Welcome to our secret Guild headquarters,” Tess said. “Watch your step, the floors are dusty.”
Petra didn’t seem to hear her. She walked to the nearest pillar, running her fingers over the Techno-Arbor symbol etched into the stone. Her jaw worked as if she were chewing on words she couldn’t quite spit out.
“I asked her,” Petra said. “Yesterday. I asked my mother if there was any way into the dungeon that didn’t go through the Network checkpoints.”
Tess set down her rag. “What did she say?”
“She said there used to be, but it was lost.” Petra’s voice was flat. “Lost. That was the word she used. Like it had been misplaced somewhere and nobody could find it.”
“Technically accurate. Nobody could fix the lift until…”
“Until you showed up and did it in an afternoon.” Petra turned to face her. “Do you know how many times I’ve been in that workshop? How many times I’ve walked right past that storage room?”
“I found it by accident. I was just moving a fabricator.”
“That’s not the point.” Petra’s hands clenched at her sides. “The point is they could have told me. They could have said ‘there’s a broken lift in storage room three that leads to a secret Guild Hall and also a private entrance to the dungeon, maybe keep an eye out for anyone who could fix it.’ But no. More secrets. More things I’m not allowed to know.”
BEE: Lady Petra appears distressed. Should I attempt to provide comfort?
“Give her a minute,” Tess said.
Petra caught the exchange. “Is that Bee? On your communicator?”
“She can talk through the speakers if you’d prefer.”
“No, I…” Petra took a breath, visibly forcing herself to calm down. “No, this is fine. I’m fine. I just need to process.” She looked around the Hall again, taking in the workbenches, the empty tool racks, the weight of history pressing down from the carved stone ceiling. “This is a lot to process.”
“Tell me about it.”
Petra managed a weak laugh. “At least you didn’t grow up being lied to.”
“My dad let me think he wasn’t dying for last few years because he didn’t want to worry me. Everyone lies, Petra. The question is whether they had a good reason.”
“And you think my parents had a good reason?”
Tess picked up her rag again, wringing grimy water into a bucket she’d brought down from the workshop. “I think your grandfather disabled that lift forty years ago because the Network was getting too close. I think your mother grew up being told the dungeon access was lost because that was safer than telling a kid there was a secret door that couldn’t be opened. And I think when you asked about private entrances, she didn’t lie to you. She just didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
Petra was quiet for a moment. “You’re being very reasonable about this.”
“One of us has to be.”
“I’m starting to hate it when you’re reasonable.” But some of the tension had left Petra’s shoulders. She walked over to join Tess at the workbench, examining the partially cleaned surface. “So. My mother called me. Said we needed to have a planning session. Something about forming a party.”
“That’s the idea.”
“A party to do what, exactly?”
The lift hummed again. Both of them looked up as Sara Tertian descended into the Hall, her expression composed but her eyes still carrying traces of the emotion from earlier. She’d changed clothes since their conversation, trading the casual attire for something more practical. Work clothes.
“To give CORE-B a fighting chance,” Sara said, stepping off the platform. “And to do that, we need to deal with the Alpha.”
***
They gathered around one of the cleaner workbenches. Sara produced a datapad, Petra found a crate to sit on, and Tess kept cleaning while they talked. The repetitive motion helped her think.
“Let’s start with what we know,” Sara said. “Tess, you’ve been in communication with Bee. What’s the current state of the dungeon?”
“I can speak for myself, if Lady Sara prefers.”
Sara’s composure flickered. Even after their earlier conversation, hearing Bee’s voice still hit her somewhere deep. “Please. I’d appreciate that.”
Bee continued. “Floor 1 is largely functional. The Floor Control Node that Tess repaired during her first delve has restored most of my sensor coverage and camera access. I can see approximately 76% of the floor, track spawn movements, and coordinate environmental systems.”
“And the Network?”
“Blind. The FCN now operates independently of their monitoring infrastructure. They see the main entrance, the elevator traffic, the delvers coming and going. But once someone is on Floor 1 itself, I control what information leaves the dungeon.”
Petra leaned forward. “So we could delve Floor 1 without the Network knowing?”
“If you enter through the private elevator, yes. The Network monitors the public entrance. They have no visibility into this facility or its connection to my infrastructure.”
“That’s the good news,” Tess said, scrubbing at a rust spot. “The bad news is that other delvers use Floor 1. People talk. If anyone sees me down there doing things a normal technician shouldn’t be able to do…”
“Questions get asked,” Sara finished. “The Network may not have direct visibility, but they have informants. Gossip. Anyone who notices something strange might report it for a reward.”
“So we stay out of sight.” Petra shrugged. “Use the maintenance tunnels. Tess is good at that.”
“Maintenance tunnels work for repairs. But they don’t help us with the real problem.” Tess set down her rag. “Floor 2.”
The name hung in the air. Even Petra, who’d nearly died there, didn’t flinch.
“Floor 2’s FCN is offline.” Bee said. “I have no sensor coverage, no camera access, no ability to track spawns or coordinate environmental systems. From my perspective, that floor is a black hole.”
“Which means the Network will be watching,” Sara said.
“Correct. Without the FCN online, any surveillance infrastructure the Network has installed would remain functional. We would be visible the moment you descended.”
“Then we fix the FCN first.” Petra made it sound simple. “Tess goes down, does her thing, we’re back to being invisible.”
“One problem.” Tess pulled her datapad from her belt and called up the dungeon map she’d downloaded weeks ago. “I actually have to be on Floor 2. Which means hoping they don’t see me when I go down. Assuming we can even get past the Alpha.”
Sara’s expression tightened. “The Alpha that nearly killed Petra.”
“That Alpha,” Petra said.
“And you want to go back.”
“Of course I want to go back.” Petra’s voice was steady. “That thing is blocking the only path to Floor 2. Every delving party that’s tried to advance has hit the same wall. If we can take it down—or better yet, shut down whatever’s spawning it—the dungeon opens up. Actual progress becomes possible.”
Sara studied her daughter for a long moment. Whatever she saw there seemed to satisfy her.
“You’ll need help.”
“Obviously.” Petra gestured at Tess. “That’s why we’re forming a party. Tess handles the technical side, I handle the stabbing. But we need someone who can take hits while we work.”
“A Knight,” Tess said.
“Carys could do it. She even has a personal shield,” Petra’s tone was casual, but she was watching her mother. “She’s got the skills. She knows about Tess, mostly. And she definitely owes us after the facility.”
Sara shook her head. “Carys Venn is a Corps commander. Asking her to join an unauthorized dungeon operation would be like asking a general to babysit. Even if she agreed, her absence would be noticed. Her involvement would be noticed. Everything about her draws attention.”
“She’d probably say yes anyway,” Petra muttered.
“Which is exactly why we can’t ask. We need someone discreet. Someone who can disappear for a few hours without triggering an investigation.”
Tess thought about the question that had been nagging at her since the facility. Who knew what she could do? Who had seen her access restricted areas, use abilities that didn’t match her supposed class?
“Mikhail Soto,” she said.
Petra looked at her. “The rookie from my party? The one who was there when you saved me.”
“He saw me come out of the maintenance hatches. He saw me open doors that should have been locked. He followed orders and didn’t ask questions.” Tess met Petra’s eyes. “He’s kept quiet for weeks. Either he doesn’t care, or he’s waiting to see what happens next.”
Sara was already pulling up something on her datapad. “Mikhail Soto. Knight class, Level 6 now. Assigned to House Tertian security forces, currently on mandatory days off.” She scrolled through the file. “Good performance reviews. Reliable. Described as ‘stoic but perceptive’ by his commanding officer.”
“He wants a promotion,” Petra added. “Bad. He’s been stuck at his current rank for two years because there’s no room to advance. Too many people ahead of him, not enough positions opening up.”
“Would he take a risk for the chance to move up?”
Petra considered. “Maybe. He’s not reckless, but he’s not timid either. If we framed it right…”
“I have a question.”
They all looked at Tess’s communicator.
“If Mikhail knew about what Tess could do, why not report it to House Tertian? Why not the Network? If he wants a promotion as much as you say, why not leverage his knowledge of Tess?”
“Good question,” Sara said. “Petra, you know him better than we do. What’s your read?”
Petra thought it through. “Mikhail doesn’t talk much. But when he does, he’s usually right. During the delve, when everything went wrong, he didn’t panic. He assessed, adapted, and even looked for help.” She paused. “And when Tess showed up and started doing impossible things, he didn’t question it. He just… followed orders, and accepted the help.”
“That could mean he’s pragmatic,” Tess said. “He wants to move up, but he wants to earn it?”
“Or it could mean he’s waiting,” Sara countered. “Gathering information. Deciding what to do with it.”
“Only one way to find out.” Petra stood up, brushing dust off her pants. “We ask him.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed. “We can’t have House Tertian visibly recruiting random Knights for secret dungeon operations. If anyone connects those dots…”
“Then it won’t be House Tertian asking.” Petra looked at Tess. “It’ll be two friends visiting a mutual acquaintance. Nothing official. Nothing traceable.”
“He’s on leave,” Sara said, checking her datapad again. “Mandatory time off. All security staff are required to take it after extended deployments. He wasn’t happy about it, according to his file. Wanted to keep working.”
Tess smiled despite herself. “Then he’ll probably be glad to hear he has something to do.”
Sara studied them both for a long moment. The weight of what they were proposing settled over the Hall, mixing with the dust and the history and the faint hum of ancient systems coming back to life.
“I don’t like this,” she said finally. “You’re asking me to send my daughter into danger. Again.”
“That didn’t stop you with the facility job.” Petra’s voice was firm. “At least this time I’m choosing to go. That matters to me.”
“Does it?”
“Yes.” Petra moved to stand beside Tess, shoulder to shoulder. “You spent my whole life trying to protect me from your secrets. How’s that working out?”
Sara didn’t answer.
“I almost died in that dungeon because I didn’t know what I was walking into. I almost died at the facility because nobody told me what we were really involved in.” Petra’s jaw set. “I’m done being protected. I want to know what’s happening. I want to help fix it. And if that means going back down there with Tess and whoever else we can trust, then that’s what I’m going to do.”
The silence stretched. Tess kept her mouth shut, recognizing this was something between mother and daughter that she had no business interrupting.
Finally, Sara sighed.
“You sound like me. When I was your age.” She looked at Tess. “Take care of her.”
“That’s not…” Petra started.
“I know. She’s not your responsibility. None of this is your responsibility.” Sara’s voice softened. “But you’ll do it anyway. Because that’s who you are.”
Tess didn’t know how to respond to that. She picked up her rag instead, attacking the rust spot with renewed intensity.
“So,” she said. “We have something resembling a plan. Find Mikhail, convince him to join us, then figure out the Alpha.”
“Assuming he says yes.”
“He’ll say yes.” Petra seemed certain. “Trust me.”
This time, Bee spoke. “I have calculated the probability of success for this operation based on available data. Would you like to hear it?”
“No,” all three of them said simultaneously.
“Understood. Saving calculations for future inquiry. They were not encouraging regardless.”
Despite everything, Tess laughed. The sound echoed in the ancient Hall, bouncing off stone pillars and carved symbols and forty years of accumulated dust.
“One more thing,” she said, setting down the rag. “Where does Mikhail live?”
Sara checked her datapad. “Sector 5. Residential block seven, unit four-twelve.” She raised an eyebrow. “Planning to visit him tonight?”
“Tomorrow.” Tess looked around at the Guild Hall, at the work still left to do. “Tonight, I’m going to keep cleaning. This place is a mess.”
Petra groaned. “You’re serious.”
“Dead serious. If we’re going to use this as a base of operations, it needs to be functional. That means getting rid of years of dirt.” Tess picked up her rag and threw a clean one at Petra. “Help or don’t. But I’m not stopping until I can see the actual surface of at least one workbench.”
Petra caught the rag, looked at it, looked at the grime-covered Hall around them.
“Fine,” she said. “But that means you’re staying for dinner.”
Sara watched them for a moment, something unreadable in her expression. Then she took off her jacket, rolled up her sleeves, and reached for a bucket.
“I haven’t done manual labor in years,” she said. “This should be refreshing.”
“I wish I could assist with the cleaning,” Bee said. “Unfortunately, I lack physical manipulators.”
“You can provide moral support,” Tess said.
“I am uncertain what that entails, but I will attempt it. You are doing a good job, Tess. Your scrubbing technique is likely adequate.”
“Thanks, Bee.”
“That was moral support. Did it help?”
Tess smiled. “Yeah. It helped.”
They worked in companionable silence as the evening deepened, three women and one disembodied voice cleaning away decades of neglect. Tomorrow would bring Sector 5, and Mikhail Soto, and the beginning of something that might change everything.
But tonight, there was just the work—simple, grounding, and real.
Tess had learned to appreciate those moments. They were getting harder to find.