The Guild Hall clock was running fast.
[Wall Chronometer GH-4 — Operational]Timekeeping: +0.04 sec/hr · Calibration Required
Tess filed it with the rest. Loose conduit panel on the walk in, foyer light running warm, a loose tile by the intake grate catching her boot, the main display flickering on a two-second cycle, and the clock.
Six hours of sleep and a concussion down to a dull pressure behind her eyes—she turned her head too fast and felt it spike.
Everyone was already at the situation table.
Petra had both elbows on the edge, leaning in with her weight forward, the posture of someone who’d gotten there early. Mikhail stood behind her, back to the wall, six hours of sleep if he was lucky and the stoic, flat patience that he always seemed to have. Yuki had taken the far corner, boot heel hooked on a chair rung, eyes on the blank display like she was waiting for it to start. Asha leaned against the back wall with her scanner clipped to her belt, arms crossed, reading something on a datapad. Sara stood at the table’s head, hands resting on the surface, composed, the only person in the room whose level of restedness felt like an aggressive personal choice.
Marcus had the rear with a mug of the terrible instant coffee he preferred for reasons nobody understood and had long since stopped asking about.
Finally, Cici walked to the table, assessed the space beneath it, and positioned herself between Tess’s ankles.
“Operational position secured,” she announced to the underside of the table.
“Feeling better?” Petra said, not looking up.
“Not really,” Tess said. “But we need to talk about some things.”
Bee lit the table up with holos.
·········································FLOOR 2 LIVE COMPOSITE · FCN-2B STATUSCoverage: Active Sensor NetworkNorth: Section 1 · Full CoverageCentral: Section 2 · Full CoverageWest: Section 3 · Full CoverageSouth: Section 4 · Full Coverage (Patrol Density: Reduced)Section 5 · Partial Coverage (Edge Degradation)············Deep Eastern Reaches: SENSOR BLIND·········································
Floor 2 scrolled across the surface, active zones pulsing soft, dead edges flat. The eastern reaches sat dark, a hole in the picture where Bee had no eyes and nobody had walked in twenty years.
Yuki sat forward so fast her boot nearly slipped from the rung. “That’s all live?”
“That’s all live,” Tess said.
“That’s way bigger than any dungeon floor I’ve seen.”
“Almost four times the safe operational parameters,” Bee said through the Hall speakers. “I have been reducing the overgrowth with every reset window, but it will take some time before I can reconfigure the layout.”
“How much of the floor is under coverage now?” Petra asked, and Tess heard it in her voice already, the tactical calculator spinning up behind the question.
“Eighty-three percent of the mapped area. Section 5 has edge degradation and the eastern reaches are sensor blind due to the Alpha.”
“Section 4 has the thinnest patrol presence right now,” Bee said. “The TK-11 pulled its ranging drones into a fixed ring around the Node. Everything that was moving is now stationary.”
“The what?” Yuki asked.
“It’s called the TK-11. We decrypted a packet from it this morning,” Tess answered.
Yuki’s mouth twitched into a smile.
“Told you,” she said.
“You said it was the TK-9,” Petra said. “But that’s a strange coincidence.”
Tess reached for the coffee she’d set at the table’s edge and [EVALUATE] tagged the mug before she touched it.
[Ceramic Mug — Functional]Hairline stress near the base · Non-Critical
She picked it up anyway. Some things you fixed. Some things you just knew about.
“There’s something else,” Sara said. She never needed to raise her voice. The room quieted when she wanted it to. “The Network’s auditor arrived in-system. Last estimated position put his shuttle roughly two days out.” A pause. “An auditor does not announce his timeline. He does not wait on convenient scheduling.”
Another pause.
“Assume he arrives early. He could already be here. When we know, you’ll know.”
Nobody moved.
“’Kayy,” Asha drew out. “So be quick. Yeah?”
“More or less,” Sara said. “Whatever needs to be done, it has to be done now.”
Tess sighed and set her mug down.
“Bee. Show them my new class, please?”
A soft ping came from the table holo. The record appeared, Bee formatting it exactly as it had landed in Tess’s vision six hours ago.
·········································CLASS REGISTRATIONOrigin: CORE-0091-TERTIUS-PRIME-BClass: MECHANICIANStatus: CENTRAL OVERRIDE·········································
Asha uncrossed her arms and pushed off the wall. “A Mechanician? That new?”
“The name didn’t change yesterday,” Tess said. “Happened in the middle of the night. Something out there knows who I am and somehow made me a class.”
“Something out there meaning…” Yuki trailed off.
“We don’t know. Bee doesn’t have anything matching MECHANICIAN in her records. CENTRAL OVERRIDE isn’t a status field she can find. CORE-0091 sounds like Bee.” Tess looked around the table. “That is the whole of what we know.”
“A scan would return that,” Sara said. “If the auditor runs you. He’ll have questions.”
“I know. Which is why I’m telling you.” Tess picked up her mug again, found it empty, set it back down. “A girl with an odd class isn’t a crime. A girl hiding an odd class is a different conversation.”
Petra had been staring at the screen since it appeared. “Does it change what you can do?”
“[EVALUATE]’s faster than it was yesterday… and always on. I caught the Hall clock drifting when I walked in, I’ve got about fifteen things in a mental queue just from crossing the building.” Tess paused, considering. “It’s like [ANALYZE] but… bigger.”
“You’re reading everything in the room right now,” Petra said.
“Most of it. Nothing critical. The clock, a fixture, the gear hooks back there. It’s background.”
“And you can turn it off?”
“No.” Tess hesitated. “But it turns down.”
Petra nodded once. That was enough for her.
“Something in the black made a class,” Asha said. “Yeah?”
“Apparently.”
“That’s mad scary.” Asha’s face went deadpan.
“It is likely a coincidence,” Bee said. “I have found nine episodes of a children’s program featuring a character with the same class name.”
Asha looked at the nearest speaker. “What.”
“It was Marcus’s idea,” Bee said.
Marcus raised his mug a fraction. “Maximum Max.”
“I told you it wasn’t that,” Tess said.
“I’m just saying there’s precedent.”
“Cartoon precedent,” Yuki said. “Reassuring.”
“Fiction is a common vector for conceptual seeding,” Bee added.
“Stop helping,” Tess said.
Yuki’s expression had shifted, the humor sliding into something more focused. “So something mysterious gave you a class nobody’s ever heard of, and we’re supposed to… what, file it?”
“For now, I guess,” Tess said. “Bigger priorities.”
Petra looked at Marcus. Marcus turned his mug once in a slow circle and said nothing.
“Bee,” Petra said. “Tess said you managed to decrypt something last night. Was it that thing we talked about?”
“Yes. The TK-11 isn’t the native Alpha,” Bee said. “The native Alpha for Floor 2 is gone, and the spawner with it. What’s holding the Node is a DUMMY_ALPHA, holding DRONE_OVERRIDE, with no spawner. SPAWN_RESONANCE ERROR. It can run the drones and hold position, but it can’t spawn, and I can’t command it without the spawner.”
“Gone where?” Mikhail asked.
“I do not know.” A pause. “It pulled every drone into a fixed ring around the Node last night. I do not know where the real Alpha went.”
Silence.
“Not today’s problem,” Mikhail said.
“Not today’s,” Tess agreed. The Node fight was real and coming—but it was days off. Today’s problem was the blind spot.
“So the eastern reaches are dark,” Petra said. “How do we get eyes back online.”
Tess sighed. “I’m going to have to fix the sensors.”
Petra snorted. “No kidding. I mean how do we do that?”
Mikhail looked at the display. “How many drones are we going to be dealing with?”
“Twenty-two mobile units across the section,” Bee said. “All ranging loose as if there’s a cap to the TK-11’s control. They are independent and acting like conventional Floor 2 spawns. They will not adapt well to organized fire.”
“That’ll do.” Mikhail turned back to the display. Already mapping it.
“You three need level 10,” Asha said. She was looking at Petra, Mikhail, and Yuki in turn with the flat assessing eye she used when she was deciding whether something was a problem. “Not going to fix itself.”
“So one more run before the chaperone shows up,” Petra said.
Yuki lifted her coffee. Mikhail’s shoulders settled a fraction, which for him was enthusiasm.
“I’ll run the operation,” Marcus said. “Sara and Amos will need an alibi if the Auditor arrives.”
Sara’s expression didn’t change but she took a breath in. “That’s smart.”
“All right. Bee’s routing, full sweep, Section 4 only. Escort Tess to a tunnel, fix the sensors,” Marcus looked at the nearest speaker. “We good to go?”
Tess stood and stretched. “Mag-lev board for the gear. I’ll get my armor on and meet you all at the Guild elevator.”
Cici’s tail smacked the table leg.
“I have very strong opinions about being left behind this time,” she said from under the table. “Eleven of them. No wait. Twelve. I will list them.”
“That’s fine,” Tess said.
“In order of severity.”
“Not necessary.”
“Thirteen now. Number one—”
“She’s coming,” Tess told the room. Yuki looked like she was about to say something but Tess cut her off. “Nope, tried that. She refuses to see reason.”
That seemed to be enough for everyone, and Asha gave a small chuckle.
“Good girl, Cici. You show ’em who’s the boss,” she said.
Petra straightened up from the table edge. “Gear up. Ten minutes.”
The gear room off the Hall’s main corridor was smaller than it needed to be and organized by a system that only made sense to Marcus. Tess had memorized it months ago because the alternative was standing in front of the wrong shelf every time she needed a coupling wrench.
She pulled her kit pack from its hook. [EVALUATE] read the rack as she worked.
[Gear Hook Rack — Operational]Load Bearing: Nominal · Upper Mount: Minor Corrosion
She blinked the small reading away and ignored it. Easier than it had been at 1AM, when [EVALUATE] had read everything at once and the volume felt like standing too close to a running engine. Six hours of sleep had helped, or at least moved the needle from “overwhelming” to “annoying.”
The mag-lev board was loaded against the far wall, heavy gear strapped down. She keyed it on. [EVALUATE] tagged the board before she could stop it.
[Mag-Lev Transport Board MLT-4 — Standby]···More Details Available···
Tess blinked at the bottom line of the tiny readout in her vision, and it flickered.
·········································MAG-LEV TRANSPORT BOARD MLT-4Designation: Personal Transport · Cargo AssistLoot Seed: 0xE7F2Status: StandbyHardware: OperationalUser Tech Skill: 12·········································Hover Height ………………… Available [Tech 3]Speed Limiter ……………….. Available [Tech 4]Terrain Following ………….. Available [Tech 6]Whisper Mode ………………. Available [Tech 7]Auto-Follow Protocol …… Available [Tech 9]Emergency Brake Override . Available [Tech 11]·········································
“Huh,” she said to no one, but Bee obviously picked it up.
BEE: Most dungeon technology or items with skills will have this window still available. [EVALUATE] may also find additional details that the previous skill would have missed, as well as possible fixes if the data is available.
“That’s pretty useful,” Tess said. “Now I just have to get used to knowing how broken everything is at a glance.”
Behind her, the team geared up with almost no talk. Yuki and Bee were working out patrol spacing.
“Northern corridor?” Yuki asked.
“Clustering is in the east-central subgrid,” Bee said through their earpieces. “I have a path that keeps you off their scan radius until you’re set up on the platform above Section 4’s main chamber.”
“Range on that platform?”
“Fifty-four point eight-six meters, unobstructed.”
Yuki whistled. “Helps to have friends in high places. Or… I guess low places?”
“My systems are indeed far below you,” Bee said. “Though how far, I do not know.”
Petra was checking her vibroblades by the door, one at a time, the quiet metallic slide of each one drawing and seating. Mikhail had his shield emitter on, though Tess still hadn’t had a chance to repair it. It sparked to life hesitantly nonetheless.
“I’ll take a look at it in the staging area,” Tess said, and he nodded.
“Thanks.”
Tess checked her toolbelt, making sure she had the tools and replacement parts she’d need while working in the maintenance tunnels. After a brief moment of hesitation, she grabbed some extra wire and stuffed it in behind a tube of glue.
Even if she wanted to store more in the belt, it was already overflowing, and she couldn’t use her pockets while wearing the plasteel armor.
Marcus appeared in the doorway with two flatbreads wrapped around something hot enough to steam. He held one out.
“You didn’t eat,” he said.
She hadn’t. The eggs at 2AM and the walk and the briefing, and somewhere in there she’d missed the fact that her body wanted food.
“Thanks.”
He shrugged. “I get to be your Dad once in a while, you know.”
The first bite was good. He leaned against the doorframe and shot her a look. He looked so much more healthy and rested than before this all started. Color back in his face. The sick years still showed in how he settled into a standing position, a small adjustment of the hip he’d never unlearned, but he moved like someone who had somewhere to be again.
“You sure you’re good?” he asked.
“I’m clear-headed as I’ll get. Concussion’s minor, Asha said so.”
He didn’t move. “That’s not what I asked.”
She chewed on both the flatbread and the question, swallowing before she answered. The [EVALUATE] data hummed at the edge of her attention and she just shrugged.
“It’s a lot,” she said finally. “MECHANICIAN. Whatever gave it to me. The Network auditor.” She paused. “But the floor’s right there. Three people need 10, we’ve got a clean window to get sensors online, and the problems I can’t fix today will still be there when I get back.”
He studied the wall behind her for a second. “Yeah. That’s the job.”
“I fix broken things,” she said. “That’s my job. I even have a class for it now.”
The corner of his mouth turned up. “Turbocharged Tess.”
Tess’s face went deadpan. “No.”
“Tenacious Tess?” Yuki said with a grin.
“Please don’t make this a thing.”
“I like Techno Tess,” Cici said, walking out from under a bench.
“Oh, yeah.” Yuki said. “I’d watch six seasons of that, maybe even the movie. The Adventures of Techno Tess.”
Tess’s face went into her hands and she rubbed her temples. At least with her eyes closed she couldn’t see [EVALUATE] readouts.
The Guild elevator was large, built to stage groups, and convey a massive amount of equipment to the floors they had access to. Everyone piled in with the coordinated shuffle of a crew that had done this before. Petra took the corner. Mikhail stood with his back to the wall. Yuki leaned against the rail. Asha was fussing over everyone with a scanner and prodding at their injuries from the previous day.
Cici walked in as if she purchased the elevator herself, tail high, and positioned herself between Tess’s knees, and held there.
“I like elevators,” she said. “I like being able to help, too!”
“You’re going to be with me in the tunnels,” Tess said. “But I’m glad to have you along.”
Cici’s tail wagged as the doors began to close.
The readout at the back of the elevator showed the floor status, live from Bee:
·········································FLOOR 2 — ACCESS GRANTEDPLEASE WAIT…·········································
“You will have a relatively straight path towards a maintenance tunnel in Section Four close to the Eastern blind section,” Bee said through the elevator’s speaker. “But please be careful.”
Petra looked up from her gloves and smiled.
“After yesterday, this is going to be easy.”
“I believe there is a superstition about saying things like that out loud,” Bee said. “It’s very common in the holos I watch.”
The doors closed as everyone collectively groaned.