The Sector 5 tram was running late today. Yuki Tanaka sat across from Tess with her rifle case across her knees and her boots tapping the floor in a rhythm only she could hear.
She hadn't stopped talking since they boarded.
"...and the eastern turret's tracking arc was the real surprise. I've watched military installations with worse response times. How'd you get the predictive modeling to coordinate without a dedicated processing hub?"
"Shared data pools," Tess said. "Each unit feeds into a common threat model. The prediction's emergent."
"Emergent." Yuki grinned. "Nice word for 'I made it figure itself out.' Yuri's going to lose sleep over the fact that his turrets are smarter than his guards now."
Marcus sat beside Tess, datapad balanced on his knee. He'd been reading since they boarded, or pretending to. He caught Tess's eye over the screen and gave her a look she'd been reading her whole life. Part told you so, part amusement, part something she couldn't name.
Yuki's energy was a physical thing. Constant and directionless, like current running through a wire with nowhere to ground. Two years of standing still had built up pressure, and now that the valve was open, everything came out at once. She talked about Yuri's security upgrades, about turret calibration, about a restaurant in Sector 8 that did proper dumplings over actual fire. She talked about the weather, which was the same recycled atmospheric mix it had been for decades.
She was nervous under all of it. Underneath the chatter and that smile, Yuki Tanaka was walking toward something she'd wanted for years and couldn't quite believe was real.
The tram slowed. The estate's platform was tiled, well lit, and staffed by an attendant who actually looked like he'd been hired instead of conscripted. They stepped off into the crisp morning air that Tess now recognized smelled like plant life.
"Expensive neighborhood," Yuki said, scanning the street with reflexes she probably didn't know she was using. Exits, sightlines, foot traffic. "Very noble."
"You've been to Sector 5 before?" Tess asked.
"Yuri has business everywhere. I've stood outside a lot of expensive buildings." She shifted her rifle case to her other shoulder. "Never got invited inside."
The Tertian estate gates were understated. Solid ferrocrete posts, ironwork that had been maintained rather than replaced, greenery spilling over the top of the walls. A staff member recognized them and waved them through without a word.
The path curved through gardens that looked tended but not manicured. Stone planters with herbs growing in neat rows. A small orchard with fruit forming on the branches. Yuki took it in with the practiced efficiency of someone cataloging a new environment for threats and exits, though Tess didn't point it out. Professional paranoia was a feature, not a flaw.
Then the workshop came into view, and Yuki slowed.
It sat apart from the main house. Squat stone construction, walls thick enough to muffle industrial noise, small, deep-set windows, a heavy door that had been replaced at least twice in its history. Pre-Network building. Functional, not decorative, still standing because nobody had found a reason to tear it down.
"This is your workshop," Yuki said.
"House Tertian's," Tess said. "But yes."
"Kellmars and Tertians." Yuki's mouth quirked the same way it had yesterday. "You have interesting friends."
The workshop door was already open. Tess led them inside.
Petra Tertian stood at the central workbench with her arms crossed, twin vibroblades sheathed at her hips. Mikhail Soto leaned against the wall beside her.
Petra's gaze found Yuki immediately. Two women sizing each other up across the workshop floor. A duke's daughter in tailored clothes, and a crime lord's former security in a jacket that held at least a dozen weapons.
"You're Yuri's shooter," Petra said. Neutral, but with weight behind it.
"You're Petra Tertian." Yuki set her rifle case against the wall and met Petra's eyes. "Heard you almost died."
The air between them sharpened. Petra's jaw set. Mikhail straightened.
Then Petra inclined her head. "I did almost die. It was very unpleasant."
"Usually is." Yuki pulled a chair from the corner, spun it around backward, and sat with her arms draped over the back. She looked comfortable instantly, which Tess suspected was a practiced skill. "Mikhail Soto, right?"
"You're well-informed," Mikhail said. Flat, like a confirmation.
"I like Delvers." She shrugged. "Your Dad was really something. Why'd that crew fall apart?"
"The crew didn't fall apart. My father died."
Yuki's grin faded. "Oh, I'm sorry."
Mikhail nodded once. "It was a long time ago."
Marcus had settled onto a crate near the supply shelves at the back of the room. Close enough to listen, far enough to let the conversation find its own shape. Tess recognized the strategy from years of watching him work: let the team decide on their own terms. His job was to open the door. Theirs was to walk through it.
The conversation drifted into tactical discussions. It sounded natural, but it wasn't. Petra asked about Yuki's skillset, her experience with coordinated parties, and how she handled close-quarters encounters when the rifle wasn't viable. Mikhail wanted to know about her off-world dungeon work. The spawn behavior there, the floor layouts, the party dynamics. Tess listened for the real questions hiding underneath the surface ones. Whether they could trust her. Whether she'd hold when big things happened.
Yuki answered everything with the same easy energy. She told them about the off-world dungeon, the adaptation in spawn behavior, and the tactical rotations that no dungeon on Tertius-Prime had ever shown. She told them about the day it went wrong. Her party leader's decision to push through a spawn wave instead of falling back. Two dead. His word against hers afterward.
She told it like a field report. Facts and nothing else. But she shifted her weight in the chair when she mentioned the party leader, a small tell that someone less observant might have missed.
"You were a Level 9 Ranger on an active crew," Petra said, leaning forward. "Then you spent two years doing security work for a Sector 6 crime lord. That's a steep drop."
"He prefers 'independent businessman,'" Yuki said. "And it was a job. I needed one."
"And now you want back in. Just like that."
"I want to do something that matters." The levity dropped from Yuki's face like a mask coming off. Something harder showed through underneath, the hard that came from wanting something for a long time and refusing to let it show. "I've been watching cameras and counting weapons for two years. I'm good at it. I'm also wasting my time doing it. I didn't become a Ranger to stand in hallways."
Petra held her gaze for a beat, then asked the real question. "If you learned something here that could get everyone in this room killed, what would you do?"
The workshop fell silent. Marcus didn't move from his crate. Mikhail watched without expression. Tess kept her hands still on the workbench.
Yuki looked at Petra. The bouncing energy, the charm, the restless shifting—all of it settled. When she spoke, her voice was level and precise.
"Lady Petra. I spent two years working for Yuri Kellmar. I know where his money comes from. I know his business inside and out. I know entire lists of names that many people would find very interesting." She didn't blink. "He knows I know all of it. And he let me walk out yesterday with a handshake. Trust me when I say I wouldn't be sitting here if I couldn't keep a secret."
Silence held for three long seconds. Petra's gaze swept the room. The consensus passed between them the way it always did, unspoken, built from months of shared risk.
Petra sat back. "Good answer."
Tess pushed off from the workbench. "There's something you need to see. Downstairs."
She led them to storage room 3. The shelves along the walls held spare parts and maintenance equipment. The organized clutter that made the room look unremarkable. Tess reached under a workbench and pressed the elevator panel.
The entire room descended, and Yuki's eyebrows climbed up her forehead.
"A secret elevator." Her voice climbed half an octave. "You have a secret elevator. All the best stories have a secret elevator."
"It goes to the sub-basement," Tess said.
It was only a short time before they arrived at the bottom.
Sara Tertian stood at the head of a table in the center of the room with her hands clasped behind her back. She wore a dark jacket over a high-collared shirt, silver hair pulled back in the practical style that Tess had learned meant she was working, not socializing. Her eyes found Yuki the moment the elevator doors opened and stayed there, measuring.
"You must be Yuki Tanaka." Sara's voice measured. "Marcus has told me a great deal about you."
"Lady Tertian." Yuki took in the guildhall, the projected maps, Sara at the table's head, and for the first time since Tess had met her, she was briefly speechless. "This is not a workshop."
"No," Sara agreed. "It is not. Please, sit."
They gathered around the table. Sara activated the full display. Floor layouts, sensor coverage maps, Aether flow diagrams, surface infrastructure status. The projected data hung in the air like a blueprint for something too large to hold in one view.
Tess kept it direct. Three points, the way Marcus had taught her. Give people the shape of the problem, then let them ask questions.
"First. We have private access to the dungeon through this elevator. No Network oversight. We've been running operations on Floor 1 for weeks."
Yuki's eyebrows rose again, but she didn't interrupt.
"Second," Sara said, picking up the thread with the ease of someone used to briefings. "The dungeon's Aether output is currently at seven-point-four percent. Before Tess began her work, it was at four. Our target is eleven. At that level, surface infrastructure across multiple sectors stabilizes meaningfully."
"Third." Tess tapped the display, pulling up a schematic of the dungeon's core architecture. "We're working to reconnect the dungeon floors to their management system. The AI that was built to run everything."
Yuki's head tilted. "The dead dungeon AI?"
"Reports of my destruction," said Bee's voice from the speakers freshly mounted near the ceiling, warm and faintly amused, "have been significantly overstated."
Yuki's hand went to her hip. Her fingers closed on empty air where a sidearm would be. She held the position for a frozen second, eyes scanning for the source.
"I am CORE-B," the voice continued. "Please call me Bee. I have been operational, in various capacities, for quite some time. I understand this is a lot to process."
Yuki's hand fell away. Her gaze bounced from Tess to Sara to the speakers and back.
"The dungeon AI is alive."
"She's alive," Tess said.
"And she's talking to us. Right now. Through speakers in a secret basement under a noble's estate."
"I have audio capability in this facility and in most locations where Tess carries her communicator," Bee said. "I should also mention that I was listening yesterday during the security work at Yuri's estate. Tess's communicator maintains an open channel. You are remarkably informative when you believe no one of consequence is paying attention."
"You heard..." Yuki trailed off. "Everything?"
"Everything. Including the detailed assessment of Yuri's perimeter weaknesses, the history of security breaches, and the rather accurate observation about his brother's intelligence."
Yuki sat down. Tess didn't think she meant to. Her knees simply decided for her.
"Wait." Yuki held up one hand. "Wait. 'Reports of my destruction have been significantly overstated.' That's basically what NORA-1 said in season three of Starfall Protocol. When she came back online after the orbital strike."
A pause. Tess wasn't even sure what that meant, but she'd heard of the holo Starfall Protocol.
"Episode fourteen," Bee said finally. "And I sounded much more convincing."
Sara closed her eyes.
Mikhail looked at the ceiling.
Petra made a sound that might have been a laugh, strangled before it could fully form.
"You watch Starfall Protocol," Yuki said.
"I monitor public entertainment channels for cultural context." Bee's tone suggested she had rehearsed this defense. "The political dynamics are instructive."
"Political dynamics." Yuki was grinning now, the shock transforming into something that looked like pure delight. "The show where Commander Johnathan faked his death twice and had an affair with the admiral's daughter."
"The Johnathan arc is a masterclass in foreshadowed betrayal. His conversation with Director Orin in season six episode seventeen about 'necessary sacrifices' was far more nuanced than critics gave it credit for."
"Critics. You read the reviews too?"
"I was isolated for two decades. Now that I have access to the world outside the dungeon, I have developed opinions about many things. Many of them strongly held."
Yuki turned to Tess, her eyes bright. "Your secret dungeon AI watches trashy holos and argues with critics about the romance subplots."
Tess honestly had no idea. She just stared at the Yuki with her mouth hanging open.
"It is not trashy," Bee said with a dignity that bordered on offense. "The narrative structure is sophisticated. That it is also entertaining does not diminish its complexity."
"Soap Operas don't have a 'narrative structure,' Bee," Tess said.
"Of course they do. The format deserves better critical analysis."
Sara had been standing still throughout the exchange. Her expression was neutral, which seemed to cost effort to maintain. Her jaw flexed once. Her fingers, clasped behind her back, tightened.
"Perhaps," Sara said, in a voice that could have cooled reactor shielding, "we could return to the matter of the Network ship currently approaching our planet with a military escort."
"Right." Yuki straightened, though her mouth still twitched at the corners. "Right. Sorry. The secret war room and... Wait hold on a minute... There's a Network ship coming to Tertius-Prime?"
Sara looked at Tess. The expression said clearly: You brought this one in. She's your responsibility.
Marcus coughed into his hand.
The briefing resumed. Sara laid out the political landscape with the precision of someone who'd been navigating it for decades. The Network ship and the System Manager or auditor who would be aboard. A timeline of weeks, not months. And the stakes: if the Network assumed control of the dungeon, they would find Bee. And if they found Bee, they would destroy her, and with her—Tertius-Prime.
Yuki listened. The fidgeting slowed. Her questions came sharp and specific. How much did the Network already know? What evidence existed? How many people on the surface were in on this?
Mikhail brought up Floor 2. "The spawns are coordinated. Tactical. Flying plasma drones with overlapping fields of fire." He gestured at his shield on the wall upstairs, its scorch marks still fresh in everyone's memory. "Floor 2 is something else entirely. Took out my personal shield in seconds. We're still sourcing parts for the internal damage."
"Floor 2 is our priority," Tess said. "We need the Floor Control Node online. That gives Bee eyes on the entire floor and cuts the Network's surveillance feed. But we can't get there without a team that can handle what's waiting."
Yuki said nothing. She was putting it together, piece by piece.
"The power increase," Yuki said. "The Aether jump from four percent to seven. That was you."
"That was Tess," Bee said.
"And the Alpha. The one that disappeared. The one every Delver on this rock has been gossiping about." Her eyes moved between the three of them. "You took it out."
"Two of them, actually," Petra said. "It was a long day."
Yuki leaned back in her chair.
"I can't believe I get to be part of this," she said. Low and honest, without performance.
Then the energy came back, focused and sharp. She stood, rolled her shoulders, and looked at each of them.
"You've shown me what you're building. I get it. I'm in." She met Tess's eyes. "But I need to see what you can do. Trial run. Tomorrow. Floor 1. You took out two Alphas, and if I'm going to keep up with that, I need to bring everything I've got."
"You want to test us," Petra said.
"You spent all morning testing me." Yuki spread her hands. "Fair's fair."
Tess checked with Petra, then Mikhail, then found her father watching from the back of the room with the understated satisfaction of a man whose plan had come together exactly the way he'd drawn it up.
"Tomorrow," Tess said.
Yuki shouldered her rifle case. "I'll bring everything."
"Please don't bring everything," Marcus said. "Fourteen weapons is a logistics problem."
"Fourteen was me travelling light."
Sara looked at the ceiling.
Bee's voice came through the speakers, warm. "I look forward to observing your performance, Yuki. I provide real-time tactical commentary during combat operations. I should warn you I have been told it is extensive."
"Real-time tactical commentary from a dungeon AI." Yuki smiled, the wide, sudden grin that transformed her entire face. "This is going to be great."
She headed for the elevator, bouncing on her heels, rifle case over one shoulder, probably already running tomorrow's scenarios in her head.
Petra appeared at Tess's shoulder. "She's going to drive me insane."
"Probably."
"I like her, though."
"I know."
Bee's voice, low from the speakers: "I also like her. She reminds me of someone, though I cannot identify who."