Tess was drifting in that shallow space between sleep and waking when Bee’s voice cut through the darkness.

  “Tess. Proximity alert. A vehicle is approaching the freighter.”

  She groaned and pulled the blanket over her head. “What time is it?”

  BEE: 23:47. The visitor is… Petra Tertian.

  Tess sat up. “What?”

  BEE: I have accessed the freighter’s external sensor array. She is approximately 100 meters away and closing. I thought you should know.

  Tess pulled on her shirt and grabbed her tool belt out of habit, though she had no idea why Petra would be here at this hour. Through the thin walls of her quarters, she could hear Marcus moving around in the main hold. He was still awake.

  Of course he was.

  She stepped into the corridor and found him near the airlock, arms crossed, staring at the exterior camera feed on one of the wall-mounted displays. The grainy image showed a figure in gray approaching the freighter’s main hatch.

  “You see this?” Marcus asked.

  “Bee told me.”

  The proximity chime sounded—a polite electronic tone that meant someone was at the door.

  Marcus didn’t move. “You want to get that, or should I?”

  Tess sighed and walked to the airlock. She pressed the intercom panel. “It’s late, Petra.”

  The response came immediately, clear and unbothered. “I’m aware. Can I come in?”

  “Why?”

  “Because standing outside your freighter at midnight looks suspicious, and I’d rather not attract too much attention.”

  Tess glanced at Marcus. He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

  She keyed the outer hatch release. The door cycled open with a hiss, and Petra climbed inside.

  Instead of armor, she wore a tailored gray uniform: clean lines, high collar, gold chain across the shoulders marking House Tertian colors. It was simple but unmistakably military. Her left arm was still in a sling, and a fresh bandage covered the burn on the side of her face, but everything else about her was sharp and put-together. She looked like she’d walked out of a formal dinner, not a hospital bed.

  Marcus studied her for a moment, then nodded once. “Lady Tertian.”

  “Just Petra, Mr. Rivera.” Petra’s gaze shifted to Tess. “I apologize for the hour. This couldn’t wait.”

  “It’s midnight,” Tess said flatly.

  “I’m aware.”

  “What do you want?”

  Petra glanced at Marcus, then back to Tess. “Can we talk? Privately?”

  “No,” Marcus said before Tess could answer. “Anything you need to say to my daughter, you can say in front of me.”

  Petra considered that, then nodded. “Fair enough.”

  Tess gestured toward the main hold. “Come on.”

  They moved to the workbench. Marcus leaned against the bulkhead near the corner, Tess stood with her arms crossed, and Petra settled into one of the worn chairs like she’d been invited for tea.

  “So?” Tess asked.

  Petra met her eyes. “I want to help.”

  “Help with what?”

  “Whatever you’re doing down there.” Petra’s tone was calm, matter-of-fact. “You saved my life. You used systems I didn’t know existed, manipulated the dungeon like you had administrative access, and somehow convinced what’s left of the dungeon’s AI to guide me out. Hell, just the the dungeon AI part would be enough.”

  Tess didn’t answer.

  “I’m not here to interrogate you,” Petra continued. “I’m here because I know there’s more going on, and I want to be part of it.”

  “I appreciate the offer,” Tess said carefully, “but I’m not doing anything. Senna put a restriction on me. I can’t go back into the dungeon and she probably watched you walk right up to the freighter.”

  “Inspector Brennan is currently having tea with my mother in Sector 3,” Petra said without missing a beat. “She’ll be occupied for at least another hour. Possibly two.”

  Tess blinked. “You’re telling me you timed this visit around Senna’s schedule?”

  “I’m telling you that powerful people have schedules, and those schedules can be… anticipated.” Petra’s expression didn’t shift. “Senna won’t find anything out of the ordinary when she returns.”

  Tess glanced at Marcus. He looked somewhere between impressed and annoyed, then he coughed.

  “Look,” Tess said, turning back to Petra. “Even if Senna isn’t watching now, she will be shortly, I promised her, and my father, I’d stay out of the dungeon for a while. I’m done. Whatever you think I was doing, it’s over.”

  Petra leaned forward slightly, resting her good arm on the table. “Is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then why did you go in the first place?” Petra’s gaze was sharp but not unkind. “You’re not a Delver. You don’t fight. You went into the dungeon to fix something, didn’t you? To help someone. The dungeon AI?”

  Tess’s jaw tightened. “I went in because I need levels.”

  “For what?”

  Tess crossed her arms and said nothing.

  Petra studied her for a moment, then glanced around the hold. “The reactor doesn’t sound too bad. The lights are on—stable power, no flickering. I’d bet this freighter could fly if you needed it to.” Her eyes came back to Tess. “So what is it? What do you need to fix that requires dungeon levels?”

  “That’s not your business.”

  “No,” Petra agreed. “But you risked Senna’s attention and getting trapped in a sealed dungeon for eight hours. That’s not nothing.”

  Tess looked away. Marcus coughed again.

  “Medical equipment?” Petra asked.

  Tess’s silence was answer enough.

  Petra sat back, her expression softening slightly. “Tess, I can have an array of dungeon-tech compatible capacitors brought over tomorrow. Enough power to run anything on this freighter. That can’t be the only reason you walked into a dungeon.”

  “It’s enough of a reason.”

  “Is it?” Petra’s voice was calm, but there was something knowing in it. “Or is it you actually want to help the AI? That you want to fix what the Network broke, not just for your father, but because it needs fixing?”

  Tess met her eyes. “And if I do?”

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “Then you’re not just a technician trying to survive,” Petra said. “You’re someone who sees what’s broken and refuses to walk away from it. Even when it’s dangerous. Even when everyone tells you to stop.”

  The words settled between them.

  Marcus shifted his weight but didn’t interrupt.

  Tess exhaled slowly. “Why do you care?”

  “Because, without your help there’s a good chance I’d be dead,” Petra said. “Because you saved my life when you had no reason to. And because something is wrong with this dungeon. Something the Network doesn’t want us to know about.”

  Tess was quiet for a moment. “The capacitors. You’re serious about that?”

  “Completely. I’ll have them delivered by noon tomorrow if you want them.”

  “That’s…” Tess paused, not sure how to finish. Too generous. Too much. “What if I do want to help Bee?”

  Petra nodded. “Then you still need levels.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you think the dungeon is the way to get them.”

  “I know it is.” Tess met her eyes. “Network tech doesn’t generate progress. Only dungeon-sourced systems do. If I want to level, I need to work with dungeon architecture.”

  “Which means going back in,” Petra said quietly. “Maybe not right away, but you have to go.”

  Tess didn’t answer.

  Petra’s expression shifted, something almost like satisfaction crossing her face. “You know there’s more going on down there. Something the Network doesn’t want us to find.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because you pay attention,” Petra leaned back in her chair. “The dungeon has been ‘cleared’ for twenty years. Low spawns. Even lower Aether flow. Then suddenly, everything changes. Floors come back online. Spawns return. And you, a classless girl from the dock district, show up with a Technician class and access to systems that shouldn’t exist. Not to mention the dungeon AI in your pocket. This could be what saves our city.”

  Tess didn’t respond.

  “You’re not a Technician, are you?” Petra asked. “The main Class Assignment hall was locked, and the Tutorial hasn’t offered that class for a year now. Not that Senna would know that.”

  Tess felt her jaw tighten. The tutorial had only offered three options: Knight, Ranger, Operator. Two combat and one support, no technical paths. And the Class Assignment hall, where the real options should have been, had been sealed tight behind locked doors. They had been online, but inaccessible. She’d only gotten past those locks because of Marcus’s access rod.

  “Why have two class assignment matrices?” Tess asked. “The Tutorial only has three classes, and the ones in main entry hall were… strange.”

  The words hung in the air.

  Then, from the ceiling-mounted speakers, a calm female voice filled the hold.

  “Tess received her class during an Aether surge in the tutorial lobby, while repairing the Class Assignment matrix. The circumstances were unusual, but the classification is accurate.”

  Tess froze. She spun toward the nearest speaker. “Bee…”

  “I thought it prudent to clarify.”

  Petra’s eyes widened slightly. She looked up at the speaker, then back to Tess. “That’s… the AI?”

  “Please call me Bee.”

  “You’re in the freighter’s systems,” Petra said slowly.

  “Only the communication array. And the external sensors. And… the environmental controls. The additional software integration was straightforward.”

  Marcus rubbed his face. “Jesus, Bee.”

  “Was that inappropriate?”

  “Little bit,” Tess muttered.

  Petra stared at the speaker for a long moment, then let out a quiet laugh. “This is insane.”

  “Yeah,” Tess said. “It is.”

  Petra’s laughter faded, and her expression turned serious again. “But it’s real. The dungeon isn’t cleared. The AI is active. And the Network has been lying.”

  Tess hesitated, then glanced at Marcus. He met her eyes and gave a small nod.

  She turned back to Petra. “The dungeon was never cleared. It’s sealed. Floors 26 and below are locked off by the Network, and CORE-B has been isolated for twenty years. The Aether flow to the surface was deliberately restricted. Everything the Network told us about this place is a lie.”

  Petra didn’t look surprised. She looked… vindicated.

  “I knew it. We knew it,” she said. “We didn’t have proof, but my grandfather knew something was wrong.”

  “You knew?” Tess asked.

  “My family has records. Reports from other worlds. Dungeons that were ‘cleared’ decades ago, then abandoned. Aether outputs dropping to nothing. It’s a pattern.” Petra’s gaze sharpened. “But I didn’t know the AIs were still active. That’s a big one.”

  Tess thought of the documents she’d seen. Veridian Secondary, sealed at Floor 26. Kael-7, declared cleared despite energy readings that proved otherwise. Helion-9. Targus Prime. All followed the same pattern—exploration halted, Aether restricted, cities left to decay.

  “I’ve seen similar reports,” Tess said carefully. “Different worlds, same outcome. The Network stops exploration at a certain depth, restricts the Aether flow, and calls it cleared. But the energy signatures don’t match natural depletion. They match deliberate containment.”

  Petra nodded slowly. “Then we’re on the same page.”

  “Are we?” Tess asked. “Because I don’t know what you think this is, but I’m not running some kind of resistance movement. I’m just trying to help Bee and keep my city powered.”

  “I know.” Petra’s tone softened. “And that’s exactly why I want to help. You’re not doing this for glory or power. You’re doing it because it needs to be done.”

  Tess crossed her arms. “And what do you get out of it?”

  “Our city.” Petra met her eyes. “My family has been trying to understand what the Network is hiding for years. If there’s a chance to find actual answers, I’m taking it.”

  Marcus spoke up from his corner. “And if those answers put you at odds with the Network?”

  Petra didn’t hesitate. “Then so be it. House Tertian isn’t exactly in the Network’s good graces as it is.”

  Tess glanced at her father again. He was watching Petra carefully, but he didn’t object.

  “Fine,” Tess said. “But if we’re doing this, there are rules. No one else can know about Bee. No one. And we don’t draw attention. Senna is already watching me, and I’m not giving her a reason to lock me up.”

  “Agreed,” Petra said.

  Bee’s voice came through the speaker. “I would also prefer to avoid Network detection.”

  “And if we’re going to work together,” Tess continued, “we need to be smart about it. The dungeon isn’t safe. Floor 1 is dangerous, and Floor 2 is worse. If I’m going down there again, and I’m not saying I am, we need a plan.”

  Petra nodded. “Floor 2 requires a party of three. At least one combat class over Level 5. We have two members, but we need a third.”

  Tess crossed her arms. “Why did you want to get to floor 2 so badly?”

  Petra looked at her. “The elevators.”

  “What?”

  “Once you reach a floor, the elevator system registers it as a checkpoint. After that, you can skip straight to floor 2 instead of fighting through floor 1 every time.” Petra’s tone was matter-of-fact. “I wanted the shortcut.”

  Tess blinked. That made sense. Floor 1 was dangerous enough without having to clear it repeatedly just to access deeper levels.

  “So you were risking your life for convenience,” Tess said.

  “I was risking my life for efficiency,” Petra corrected. “There’s a difference.”

  “Kade’s not interested in delving,” Tess said. “And your Knights would draw too much attention.”

  “I know.” Petra frowned. “We need someone believable. Someone who won’t ask too many questions.”

  “Or someone who already knows,” Marcus said.

  Both of them turned to look at him.

  He shrugged. “I’m just saying. You’ve got a Level 11 Engineer sitting right here.”

  “No,” Tess said immediately.

  “I wasn’t volunteering.” Marcus’s expression was dry. “I’m just pointing out the obvious. Finding someone trustworthy who won’t talk is going to be harder than you think.”

  Petra considered that. “He’s right. But we don’t have to solve it tonight.”

  “No,” Tess agreed. “We don’t.”

  Petra reached into her jacket and pulled out a small device. The communicator was sleek and compact, with pre-Network design etched into the casing. She set it on the table between them.

  “What’s this?” Tess asked.

  “Straight-beam encrypted communicator. Pre-Network tech, dungeon-grade components. It’s yours.”

  Tess stared at the device. She didn’t need [ANALYZE] to know it was worth a fortune. “I can’t take this.”

  “You can,” Petra said. “And you will. I can’t keep showing up at your freighter at midnight. This way, when you’re ready, when you can help again, you know how to reach me.”

  Tess picked up the communicator, turning it over in her hands. The weight was perfect; the craftsmanship flawless. It was tech you didn’t find in the dock district.

  “This must have cost…”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Petra interrupted. “What you’re doing is good. And when the time comes, I want to be part of it.”

  Tess met her eyes. There was no arrogance there. No superiority. Just… certainty. Like Petra knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t going to apologize for it.

  It was frustrating—and a little impressive.

  “Fine,” Tess said. “But don’t expect me to call anytime soon. I meant what I said about staying out of the dungeon.”

  “I know.” Petra stood, wincing slightly as the movement jostled her injured arm. “But when you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”

  Marcus walked her to the airlock. Tess stayed at the workbench, staring at the communicator in her hands.

  BEE: She is… intense.

  “That’s one word for it,” Tess muttered.

  BEE: I believe she is sincere. Her biometric readings suggest honesty. No deception patterns detected.

  “You were reading her biometrics?”

  BEE: I am monitoring all guests who enter the freighter. It seemed prudent.

  Tess shook her head. “You’re getting too good at this.”

  BEE: Thank you. I believe that is a compliment.

  The hatch locked, and Marcus returned a moment later. He looked at Tess, then at the communicator on the table.

  “You trust her?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Tess said honestly. “But I don’t think she’s lying.”

  Marcus nodded slowly. “Neither do I.”

  He walked over and sat down across from her, his expression tired. “You know this changes things, right? If you’re working with House Tertian, even unofficially, you’re playing a different game.”

  “I know.”

  “And if Senna finds out…”

  “I know, Dad.”

  He sighed. “Just… be careful. Petra might be genuine, but her family has resources. Power. The sort of attention you don’t want.”

  “I’ll be careful.”

  Marcus stood and rested a hand on her shoulder for a moment. “Get some sleep. It’s late.”

  “Yeah.”

  He left her alone in the hold, the lights dimmed to their nighttime settings. Tess sat there for a while, staring at the communicator.

  Too much had happened in less than a week. She wanted to believe things would settle down, that she could focus on small repairs and keeping Marcus safe.

  But she doubted she was that lucky.

  BEE: Tess?

  “Yeah, Bee?”

  BEE: For what it’s worth… I believe Petra will be a valuable ally. She is capable, and she cares about finding the truth. That matters.

  “Maybe.”

  BEE: Definitely. I’ve run the calculations sixty-one times.

  Tess picked up the communicator and turned it over one more time. Then she slipped it into her tool belt and headed back to her quarters.

  Tomorrow, she’d figure out what came next.

  Tonight, she just needed to sleep.