Tess crawled out of the maintenance tunnel and back into the staging area, brushing ferrocrete dust off her knees. The space had transformed in the hour she’d been gone—what had been empty was now packed with delvers. Maybe twenty people scattered across the benches and supply lockers, waiting for the exit window.
Most looked tired. A few had minor injuries—bandaged arms, limps, scorched armor. Others were animated, gesturing enthusiastically while they talked about loot or levels. The energy was mixed: exhaustion and excitement in equal measure.
Tess straightened—and the notification hit.
LEVEL UP!
{null} Level 4 Achieved
TECH: 3 → 4
AP: 0/3 → 1/4
She blinked as the notification faded. One AP. Not even close to full, but better than running on empty. Her hands still ached from the FCN repair, and her knees were going to hate her tomorrow, but at least she had a little more to work with now.
“Bee?” she said, adjusting the communicator on her belt.
BEE: I am here. Congratulations on your level increase. How do you feel?
“Tired. But functional.” Tess scanned the room, looking for a quiet corner to sit down and catch her breath.
Before she could move, someone called out.
“Hey! You’re a Technician, right?”
Tess turned. A young man in light armor was waving at her from near the supply lockers, an Operator in his early twenties with a short-range communicator hanging off his belt. The casing was cracked, and the antenna was bent at an angle that definitely wasn’t factory standard.
“Depends,” Tess said. “What’s broken?”
“My short-range comm unit. Took a hit from a Spawn, and now it’s just static.” He held it up hopefully. “Can you fix it? I’ll pay.”
Tess walked over and took the device. The crack ran along the housing, but the internal components looked intact. She activated [ANALYZE].
Network tech. Simple node architecture unfolded across her vision, flat and straightforward with no nested complexity:
[POWER SUPPLY—TECH 1]
[SIGNAL TRANSCEIVER—TECH 2]
[ANTENNA CONNECTION—TECH 1]
She accessed each node.
[POWER SUPPLY—STATUS: ONLINE]
[SIGNAL TRANSCEIVER—STATUS: ONLINE]
[ANTENNA CONNECTION—STATUS: OFFLINE]
LAST ERROR: (2) PHYSICAL DISCONNECT
The crack had shifted the mounting bracket just enough to break contact. Simple fix.
“Give me two minutes,” Tess said, pulling out her multi-tool.
She popped the casing open, reseated the antenna connector, and bent the bracket back into alignment.
[ANTENNA CONNECTION—STATUS: ONLINE]
A quick test confirmed clean signal transmission. She closed the housing and handed it back.
“Ten credits,” she said.
The Operator blinked. “That’s it?”
“Antenna got knocked loose. Simple fix.”
He paid without argument, testing the communicator as he walked away. Tess pocketed the credit chit and turned back toward the benches, but another voice stopped her.
“You do weapons?”
A Ranger stood a few paces away, holding a rifle. She was older, mid-thirties maybe, with dark skin and close-cropped hair. Her armor was scorched along one side, and her expression was cautious.
“Depends on the weapon,” Tess said.
The Ranger held out the rifle. “Firing mechanism’s sticking. I can get one shot off, but then it jams. Probably just needs cleaning, but I don’t have the tools.”
Tess took the rifle and froze.
It wasn’t Network Tech. The weapon had the wrong proportions, organic curves instead of right angles, a crystalline core visible through a transparent housing near the trigger assembly. Dungeon loot, clearly.
Tess met the Ranger’s eyes. The woman’s expression was guarded, but something flickered there: hope, maybe, or fear that Tess would call her out.
Most delvers weren’t supposed to keep loot. Guild regulations required registration and taxation of anything valuable. But enforcement was spotty at best, and this rifle was worth more than the Ranger, or Tess for that matter, made in a year. Several years, actually.
Tess activated [ANALYZE].
The nested structure bloomed across her vision, crystalline substrates and organic curves, skill trees embedded in the weapon’s core:
·········································
KINETIC RIFLE KR-4771
Designation: Medium Range Projectile Weapon
Loot Seed: 0xA477
Status: Operational
Hardware: Functional (Degraded)
Power: 4.2 AW
Last Error: Aether Buildup in Release Chamber
User Tech Skill: 4
·········································
Kinetic Projectile ……. Online [Tech 3]
Rapid Cycle ………….. Locked [Tech 5]
Precision Targeting …… Offline [Tech 4]
·········································
The Kinetic Projectile skill tree was active. The sticking issue was simple: residual Aether buildup in the release chamber disrupting the compression cycle. A quick purge would clear it.
She pulled a cleaning rod from her belt, accessed the purge valve, and cycled the mechanism manually. Aether discharge vented as a faint shimmer in the air. She tested the action: smooth, clean, no resistance.
While she was in there, she activated [INTERFACE] and tried toggling the [PRECISION TARGETING] skill. The pattern flared to life with a small static shock in her fingers, golden light spreading through the rifle’s crystalline core. A small screen on the stock flickered on, and a laser sight housing extended along the barrel with a soft click.
“There,” Tess said, handing the rifle back. “Cleared the blockage and fixed the targeting system. Twenty-five credits.”
The Ranger took the weapon, then froze when she saw the glowing rear display and the active laser sight.
“You… what did you do?”
“Fixed it,” Tess said. “Targeting assist was offline. It’s working now.”
The Ranger’s gaze jumped between Tess and the rifle before settling on her face. “I’ve had this for… a while. Didn’t even know it had a targeting system.”
“Well, it does now.”
The woman paid without another word, still staring at the rifle’s new features as she walked away.
Tess smiled to herself. Everyone had their secrets.
BEE: That was kind of you.
“Didn’t cost me anything,” Tess said. “And I’m not the Network.”
She found an empty bench near the exit archway and sat down, finally letting herself rest. Her tool belt was a mess: half her consumables used up, tools dirty from the FCN repair. She pulled out a rag and started cleaning, one piece at a time.
Around her, delvers talked in low voices. Some were checking their gear; others were counting loot. A few were just staring at nothing, processing whatever they’d seen on Floor 1.
The dungeon had been mostly offline for twenty years. For a lot of these people, this was their first real delve. Their first time facing Spawns with teeth and claws and whatever else Spawns did.
Tess wiped down her multi-tool and wondered how Marcus was doing.
She’d have to face that conversation when she got home.
“Hey.”
Tess looked up. The Operator from earlier was back, looking sheepish.
“Just wanted to say thanks. That comm unit’s been busted for a week, and the guy at the Guild wanted fifty credits to fix it.”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
“No problem.”
“You, uh… you do this full-time? Repairs?”
“Do now, I guess. Been working for Vera Kain in Sector 6 if you need to find me.”
“Cool. I’ll remember that.” He nodded and walked off.
Tess went back to cleaning her tools. Word was spreading, apparently. People were catching on that she was useful.
She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
BEE: Floor 1 environmental sensors are detecting elevated activity in Sector E. Multiple delver teams are extracting loot and returning to the staging area. Spawn density is decreasing as teams clear sections.
“Good,” Tess said. “Means people are being smart. Get in, look around, get some progress, get out.”
BEE: I agree. The increased Aether output has made Floor 1 significantly more dangerous than it has been in a long time. I am… concerned about the long-term implications.
Tess paused mid-wipe. “You mean the more we restore, the harder the dungeon gets?”
BEE: Possibly. Higher Aether flow enables stronger Spawns, more frequent respawns, and deeper floors coming back online. This benefits Delvers who seek challenge and loot, but it also increases risk. I am uncertain how to balance restoration and safety.
“Right now, people are managing,” Tess said. “That’s enough.”
BEE: I suppose you are correct.
Tess set down the tool she’d been cleaning, a thought occurring to her. “Bee, are you able to adjust Spawns? Or loot drops? If the dungeon’s getting more dangerous, maybe we could dial it back?”
A pause, longer than usual.
BEE: I wish I could. But Spawn systems are closed-circuit, self-contained subsystems that I have no administrative access to. They operate independently of my core processes. I can observe them through cameras now, track their locations, and monitor their behavior. But I cannot modify their parameters or deactivate them.
“But I could? With [INTERFACE]?”
BEE: Theoretically, yes. If you could physically access a Spawn Controller, the node that manages spawn generation for a sector, you might adjust difficulty parameters, loot tables, respawn timers. But I have no schematics for those systems. Memory corruption deleted that data decades ago. I would not know how to guide you through a repair or modification.
Tess frowned. “So the spawns are just… running on autopilot?”
BEE: Correct. And I believe the sudden Aether influx from our repairs may have triggered a system default. When the Aether flow dropped to 4.1% capacity, the Spawn Controllers likely entered a low-power conservation mode: reduced difficulty, slower respawn rates, minimized loot quality to preserve energy. Now that we have restored flow, the controllers appear to have defaulted to their maximum settings.
“Maximum?”
BEE: I have old records in my database, fragmented but partially readable. They show that floor difficulty matches loot quality and quantity. Higher Aether availability enables more dangerous Spawns, faster respawns, and more complex behaviors. But it also increases the rewards. Better loot seeds, higher-tier skill trees, more valuable materials.
Tess looked around the staging area at the delvers who’d come back from Floor 1. Some were exhausted, injured, clearly pushed to their limits. But others were animated, excited, showing off weapons and equipment that gleamed with fresh crystalline cores.
“So people are facing harder fights,” Tess said slowly. “But they’re getting better rewards for it.”
BEE: Correct. Historical baselines suggest Floor 1 at maximum settings would be appropriate for Level 3 to 5 delvers working in coordinated teams. Before our repairs, it was barely suitable for Level 1 solo runs on semi-monthly rotations. The shift has been… significant.
“That Ranger’s rifle. The one I just fixed. That was from this run, wasn’t it, even though she said she had it a while?”
BEE: Almost certainly. A kinetic rifle with functional skill trees would be extraordinarily rare in a low-difficulty environment. At the current settings, Floor 1 is producing loot that would have been valuable even twenty years ago.
Tess finished cleaning her tools and leaned back against the wall, processing. More danger meant more injuries, higher stakes. But it also meant that people who succeeded would actually earn something worth the effort. The dungeon was becoming what it used to be: a real challenge, a real opportunity.
She couldn’t decide whether that was progress or a problem.
The staging area’s noise faded to background hum: conversations, footsteps, the occasional clatter of equipment. Tess let her eyes close for just a moment.
She was so tired.
The sound was massive, a rolling BOOM that shook the entire floor. Tess jerked upright as the overhead lights flickered and emergency klaxons started blaring. Red warning lights activated along the ceiling, bathing the staging area in harsh crimson.
Delvers scrambled to their feet, shouting over the alarms.
“What the hell was that?”
“Explosion!”
“Is the dungeon collapsing?”
Tess ran to the terminal near the supply lockers, the one she’d used earlier to download the floor map. She activated [INTERFACE], and the map unfolded across her vision. Floor 1’s layout glowed in wireframe detail.
A section in Sector E was flashing red. Emergency alerts cascaded across the display:
CRITICAL ALERT: SECTOR E
- STRUCTURAL DAMAGE DETECTED
- FIRE SUPPRESSION OFFLINE
- ALPHA-CLASS SPAWN ACTIVE
“Bee!” Tess said. “What’s happening?”
BEE: Checking… Sector E, northeast quadrant. Significant thermal signature detected. Fire-based Spawn, classification: ALPHA. It is guarding the stairwell access to Floor 2. One delver is trapped in an adjacent chamber.
Tess accessed the terminal more deeply, and Bee pulled up the live camera feeds from the restored FCN. The screen flickered, showing a grainy view of a side room. A single figure was slumped against the wall, clutching her arm. Even through the degraded feed, Tess recognized the polished armor.
Petra Tertian.
“Bee, is she hurt?”
BEE: Affirmative. Visual analysis suggests a broken collarbone based on arm positioning. Possible concussion; movement appears unsteady. She is alone and cut off from the staging area by the Alpha-Spawn.
The staging area doors burst open, and two Knights stumbled through. Both were scorched, their armor blackened and dented. The older one, a woman in her forties with short gray hair, was supporting the younger one, a man who couldn’t have been over twenty-five.
“We need help!” the older Knight shouted over the alarms. “Alpha-Spawn! Petra Tertian is trapped!”
The room went silent.
Then, slowly, delvers started moving toward the elevators.
“Sorry,” someone muttered. “Not risking my life for House Tertian.”
“Good luck with that,” another said, hefting their pack and walking away.
The younger Knight looked panicked. “Please! She’s hurt! We can’t get to her!”
“Then you shouldn’t have gone after an Alpha,” a scarred Ranger said flatly. “That’s your problem.”
The older Knight’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t argue. She just scanned the room, looking for anyone who might help.
Her eyes landed on Tess.
Tess looked away, back at the terminal. The map showed Petra’s location clearly: Sector E, northeast quadrant, cut off by the Alpha-Spawn’s patrol route. The creature was pacing between Petra and the stairwell down to Floor 2, blocking both escape routes.
BEE: Tess, I am detecting heavy thermal output from the Alpha-Spawn. Fire-based attacks, significant structural damage to surrounding corridors. The floor reset will not occur for several hours. By then…
“By then, Petra’s in trouble,” Tess finished.
She stared at the map. Maintenance tunnels ran beneath and above Sector E, narrow passages that bypassed the main corridors entirely. The Alpha wouldn’t fit in them and couldn’t patrol them. If Tess could navigate the tunnels, she might reach Petra from behind and get her out. But nothing actually went directly to the room she was in.
She’d have to step out into the dungeon to get her.
Her own voice echoed in her head. No heroics, just repairs.
But she wasn’t planning on fighting the Alpha. She was going to just fix a problem.
The two Knights were arguing with a group of delvers near the elevators, desperation creeping into their voices.
“What’s your plan?” she called.
The older Knight turned, surprised, and the two approached. Up close, Tess could see the woman’s name etched into her chest plate: Carys Venn.
Tess activated [ANALYZE] and nearly gasped.
[KNIGHT - LEVEL 7]
“We were going to draw the Alpha away from the stairwell,” Carys said. “Clear a path for Petra to escape. But we’re down to two fighters, and that thing hits hard enough to crack ferrocrete. We can’t stand up to something like that, even with our kit.”
“And if the floor resets?” Tess asked.
The younger Knight, Mikhail Soto according to his badge and a Level 4 Knight per [ANALYZE], shook his head. “Floor reset is in six hours. Petra won’t make it that long. She’s hurt bad.”
Tess looked back at the terminal, where the map was still displayed. “What if I could activate the fire suppression systems?”
Carys frowned. “Fire suppression won’t stop an Alpha.”
“No, but it’s fire based. Might slow it down and buy you time.” Tess turned back to the terminal screen, pulling up the FCN’s environmental controls. “I can access the maintenance tunnels. Get to the systems from behind. Maybe reroute power, trigger the suppression manually. Get it away from Petra.”
“You’re that Technician.” Mikhail asked.
“Level 4 now,” Tess said. “I’m not fighting that thing. But I can move through the tunnels and work the systems. If you two can keep it distracted, I can open a path for her to get out.”
Carys studied her, calculating. “If you trigger the fire suppression, the system could interpret it as a safety failure. It might force a floor reset to clear the damage. I’ve seen it happen.”
“Which resets the Spawns,” Mikhail said. “One big problem for a lot of minor problems.”
BEE: Tess, this is dangerous. The maintenance tunnels in Sector E are degraded. I do not have full camera coverage in that area. I cannot monitor you effectively.
“I know,” Tess said. “But I can see the map. And you can see Petra. That’s enough.”
Carys extended a hand. “Carys Venn. If you can buy us time, we’ll get Petra out.”
Tess shook it. “Tess Rivera. Don’t die.”
“Agreed.”
Tess hesitated, then pulled up the terminal’s administrative menu. The dispenser ticket option was still there. She activated [INTERFACE], spending 1 AP to generate a ticket code.
AP: 1/4 → 0/4
The terminal printed a small physical slip, a strip of plasteel with a unique barcode. Tess pocketed it and crossed the staging area toward a windowed booth she’d barely noticed earlier. The sign above read EMERGENCY SUPPLIES in faded block letters.
Inside, an automated dispenser hummed. Tess fed the ticket into the slot, and a menu appeared on the cracked screen:
EMERGENCY DISPENSER
- BASIC MEDICAL KIT (5 uses)
- STANDARD RATION PACK (3 meals)
- EMERGENCY FLARE (single use)
- BASIC TOOL SET (limited)
She selected the medical kit. The dispenser whirred, and a compact case dropped into the collection tray. Tess grabbed it, lightweight plasteel housing with a red cross embossed on the lid. She opened it quickly to check the contents: sealant foam, bandages, a single stim injector, antiseptic wipes, pain suppressors.
Basic, but it might keep Petra stable.
She clipped the kit to her belt and headed back toward the maintenance access panel near the east wall.
Behind her, Carys and Mikhail were checking their weapons, preparing to re-enter Floor 1.
Around them, the other delvers were boarding the elevators, heading back to the surface early. Nobody was staying to help.
Tess pried open the maintenance panel and stared into the dark tunnel beyond.
Fire suppression to trigger, environmental controls to reroute, and a trapped noblewoman with a broken collarbone waiting on the other end. She thought about Marcus waiting at home, about the promise she’d made to be careful. Then she thought about Petra on that camera feed, slumped against the wall, hurt and alone.
“One problem at a time,” Tess muttered, and crawled into the tunnel.
BEE: Tess. Please be careful.
“I will.”
BEE: I mean it. I cannot lose you. Not after you gave me the ability to see again.
Tess paused, crouched in the narrow passage, and smiled faintly. “It’s okay, Bee. We’re just fixing some things.”
The maintenance tunnel stretched ahead, lit by amber emergency lights spaced every ten meters. Somewhere beyond, an Alpha-Spawn was pacing through fire-scorched corridors, blocking the only escape route.
Tess crawled forward, following the map in her vision, and disappeared into the darkness.
