-Tan'Thalon: Council Hall
The great doors shut behind the last of the nobles. Their footsteps faded into the enormous corridor beyond, swallowed by the same acoustics that had made every argument inside the chamber sound larger than it truly was. Serenya remained where she was. For several seconds, she simply stared at the doors. Varros stood beside her, arms folded tightly across his chest.
Elira was the first to speak. "Well."
Serenya slowly turned. "If you say anything optimistic, I'll throw you through the doors."
Elira considered the fact that they were heavy oaken doors. "I was going to say that went poorly."
"Better."
Varros exhaled through his nose. "They wanted us to fail."
"They wanted us delayed," Elira corrected.
Serenya's eyes narrowed. "What difference does it make?"
Elira looked back toward the council chamber. "Because Eldarion made a mistake."
Serenya frowned. "He made several."
"This one was useful." Elira started walking. The other two followed. "He asked for proof."
Serenya's expression remained grim. "Yes."
"Records. Artifacts. Evidence of Vaal's work."
"Yes."
Elira glanced toward the floor. "Then we find records."
Varros stopped. "Where?"
Elira looked back at him. "The tunnels."
Silence stretched. Serenya's expression changed. Not by much, but enough.
Varros slowly nodded. "The tunnels."
"We already know there's more down there than the Circle of Veils," Elira continued. "We've seen Lazulli conduits that don't belong to the city's current infrastructure. We've found abandoned laboratories. Constructs. Processing equipment." She paused. "And we've seen evidence that someone has been manipulating the city's supply chain from underneath us."
Serenya's jaw tightened. "Kerryth Vaal didn't come from nowhere."
Elira's eyes settled on her. "Exactly."
The commander said nothing.
"An Arcanist capable of doing what we saw doesn't simply wake up one morning with that kind of power. He needed materials. Research. Somewhere to work." Elira glanced once more toward the chamber. "And we already know someone has been building things underneath Tan'Thalon."
Varros rubbed his jaw. "You think Vaal was working for whoever built them?"
"I think we don't know enough to say that." Elira's voice became quieter. "But I think it's worth finding out."
Serenya looked toward the great doors. Eldarion's smug expression came back to her. Substantial proof.
She almost smiled. "Fine."
Varros raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"
"We go back."
Elira nodded.
"And this time," Serenya said, "we don't stop at the first abandoned warehouse."
They returned to the tunnels before sunset. The entrance had been sealed off with several layers of barricades, courtesy of the vanguard. Serenya signaled for the guards to let them through. Last time they had been taken by surprise. This time, they came prepared. The Iron Vanguard had learned enough from their first expedition to know that the underground network did not care about conventional military logic. There were no clear front lines. No reliable maps. No guarantee that a corridor leading downward would still exist when they returned. They moved in smaller formations, marking every junction they passed. Serenya led from the front. Varros remained close behind. Elira carried a collection of measuring tools, parchment and several empty cases.
"If we find anything written," she said, "don't touch it."
Varros glanced over. "You mean don't touch anything."
"That would be preferable."
Serenya gave them both a look. "Focus."
They descended. Past the old processing chambers. Past the abandoned Circle of Veils routes. Past the place where they had previously encountered the constructs.
The deeper sections were different. The masonry became older. The walls widened. Lazulli conduits appeared everywhere. Some were no thicker than a man's arm. Others were enormous. Several meters across. They disappeared into the ceiling and continued downward through the stone.
Elira stopped beneath one. "This isn't supplying the city."
Serenya looked up. "What makes you say that?"
"The flow." Elira traced one of the faintly glowing veins with her eyes. "It runs away from Tan'Thalon."
"Where?"
Elira followed it. "Down."
Varros muttered something under his breath.
Serenya gestured onward. "Keep moving."
Eventually they found a door. It was enormous. There were no hinges. No handle. Only a circular indentation surrounded by dozens of unfamiliar symbols. The symbols glowed in a strangely familiar blueish green glow.
Elira noticed. "Commander. That looks like.."
"Gleam." Serenya said coldly. "Don't touch it.."
Elira stepped closer to examine the symbols. "That's not the script we've seen the Circle use."
"No."
"Not modern Xaeronan either."
Serenya placed a hand against the surface. The metal was cold.
"Can you open it?"
Elira smiled faintly. "Probably."
"Probably?"
"I can certainly make an attempt."
Five minutes later, the door opened. A cloud of ancient dust rolled into the corridor. Varros coughed. Loudly. Elira waved it away.
"Well."
Serenya looked into the darkness beyond. "What?"
"I think we've found our records."
The chamber beyond was enormous. Rows of workstations stretched into the darkness. Most had collapsed beneath centuries of dust. Others remained almost perfectly preserved. Lazulli conduits ran along the ceiling, branching downward into individual stations. Broken constructs lay scattered across the floor. Some were little more than piles of metal. Others looked almost complete.
Elira's eyes widened. "Oh."
Serenya glanced at her. "What?"
"This isn't a hideout." She stepped toward one of the workstations. "It was a research facility." She brushed dust away from a metal plate. "An old one."
Varros examined a nearby construct. "What were they researching?"
Elira looked around. "Everything."
There were diagrams of artificial magical cores. Schematics for Lazulli infusion. Studies of elemental resonance. Pages describing construct consciousness. There were even anatomical drawings.
Serenya's expression hardened. "Why biological tissue?"
Elira didn't answer immediately. She picked up another document. The paper crumbled slightly beneath her fingers. She read. Then read it again.
Varros noticed. "What?"
Elira's brow furrowed. "Post-mortem retention."
Serenya looked at her. "What does that mean?"
"Keeping something functional after it dies."
"Necromancy?"
"Not necessarily."
A sound came from somewhere behind them. A faint scrape. Everyone froze.
Elira slowly lowered the document. "…Perhaps necessarily."
No one moved. The sound did not come again. For several seconds, the only noise in the chamber was the faint hum of Lazulli moving somewhere inside the walls.
Varros turned slowly, his weapon already in hand. "Where?"
Elira didn't answer. She was staring at the page.
Serenya noticed. "What?"
Elira looked down again. Her expression had changed. Not fear, but Recognition.
"Commander."
Serenya stepped closer. "What did you find?"
Elira carefully turned the brittle page toward her. The writing was densely packed. Most of it meant nothing to Serenya. Measurements. Diagrams. Formulae.
But one illustration caught her attention. A humanoid figure. Metallic and angular. Its chest had been opened to reveal an artificial cavity where a crystalline structure had been placed. Around it were several handwritten notes.
Elira pointed. "This."
Serenya frowned. "What am I looking at?"
"The constructs."
Varros stepped closer. "The ones from the tunnels?"
Elira nodded. "Or an earlier version of them."
She turned another page. The diagrams became more elaborate. Mechanical limbs. Joint mechanisms. Internal conduits. Then a cross-section of something resembling a heart. Except it wasn't a heart. It was a containment chamber. Inside it was a blueish green substance. Serenya immediately recognized it.
Her expression hardened. "Gleam."
Elira looked at her. "Yes."
Varros leaned closer. The illustration showed a thick, blue green liquid suspended within a series of concentric rings. Even on the page, it seemed almost oily. Veined with the same unnatural blue-green light they had seen in the tunnels.
"That stuff was inside them?"
Elira carefully examined the accompanying notes. "Not simply inside them."
She traced a line with her finger. "It was part of the core."
Serenya looked around the chamber. Broken constructs lay scattered across the floor. Suddenly they felt less like abandoned machines. More like evidence.
"What does it do?"
Elira's eyes moved across the page. "I don't know."
"That isn't like you."
"There's a lot here I don't understand." She turned another page. Then stopped. "Wait."
Varros leaned closer. "What?"
Elira didn't answer. Her eyes moved rapidly across the writing. Serenya watched her expression change again. This time there was unmistakable excitement.
"Elira."
"The Gleam isn't fuel."
Serenya frowned. "What?"
"It isn't merely powering them." She tapped the illustration. "Look."
Neither Serenya nor Varros moved.
Elira sighed. "Fine. Imagine a normal Lazulli engine."
Varros folded his arms. "I'm imagining."
"The crystal provides magical energy. The machinery converts that energy into something useful."
"Still with you."
"The constructs we fought don't appear to work that way." She pointed toward the dark substance. "The Gleam is integrated directly into the magical structure."
Serenya's eyes narrowed. "So?"
"So the construct doesn't simply use magic." Elira looked toward one of the broken machines. "It remembers it."
Silence followed, broken only by Varros' frown. "What does that mean?"
"I don't know." Elira sounded irritated by the admission. "But look at this."
She flipped through several pages. The diagrams changed. The same construct appeared repeatedly. In each version, its body was damaged differently. A missing arm. A shattered chest. A destroyed leg. Yet beside each drawing were the same symbols. Identical magical patterns.
Elira's finger hovered over them. "Pattern retention."
Serenya remembered the earlier phrase. "Post-mortem retention."
Elira nodded slowly. "I think they're connected."
Varros looked between them. "You're losing me."
Elira straightened. "The constructs aren't intelligent in the traditional sense." She paused. "At least, I don't think they are."
"That inspires confidence."
"They retain information."
Serenya looked at the broken construct nearby. "Information?"
"Movement." Elira pointed toward its limbs. "Combat patterns. Magical responses. Structural repairs." Her eyes returned to the documents. "Every time one of them is damaged, the magical core records the response."
Varros stared. "And?"
"And the next one can learn from it."
That silenced him. Serenya looked back toward the constructs. The battle returned to her memory. The way they had moved. The way they had adapted. One had changed its stance after the Vanguard had destroyed another. At the time she had assumed it was a coincidence. Now she wasn't so sure.
"They were learning."
Elira nodded. "I think so."
A voice spoke from somewhere deeper in the darkness. "Learning is an imprecise word."
Every weapon in the chamber rose.
Serenya turned. "Identify yourself."
The voice did not immediately answer. Instead, footsteps echoed between the workstations. Slow and unhurried. Someone emerged from the darkness. He looked human. Older than Serenya. Perhaps sixty. Perhaps considerably more. His hair was grey and tied loosely behind his head. He wore long robes beneath a strange collection of leather straps and metallic instruments. At first glance, Serenya thought he might have been an engineer. At second glance, she wasn't sure. The robes were stained. Not with blood. With oil. Or something similar. Dark streaks ran across the fabric. Several small Lazulli instruments were attached to his belt. The stranger stopped when he saw the Vanguard. He looked at them. Then at the weapons pointed in his direction.
His expression became mildly disappointed. "Oh."
Varros raised his blade. "Hands where I can see them."
The man looked down at his hands. Then back at Varros. "They are where you can see them."
Varros stared.
Serenya stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The stranger tilted his head. "That depends."
"On?"
"Whether you've come to destroy the facility."
Elira's eyes narrowed. "You maintain this place?"
The stranger looked around. "Maintain is a generous term."
He walked past them. Nobody relaxed. He didn't seem concerned by that. Instead, he approached one of the nearby workstations and gently brushed dust from its surface.
"Most of it maintains itself."
Serenya followed him with her eyes. "What is this place?"
The man paused. "A laboratory."
"That much is obvious."
"Then you've answered your own question."
Elira stepped forward. "The constructs."
The stranger looked at her. "What about them?"
"We encountered them further up."
"Yes." The answer came too easily.
Serenya noticed. "You knew?"
"Of course."
Varros took a step forward. "Those things killed Vanguard soldiers."
The stranger's expression shifted. Only slightly. "Did they?"
Varros stared at him. "What?"
The old man looked genuinely thoughtful. "I wasn't aware they had reached that section."
Serenya's voice became colder. "Who built them?"
The stranger smiled faintly. "You think one person built them?"
"Answer the question."
His eyes shifted toward the document in Elira's hands. "You've already found the answer."
Elira looked down. Then back at him. "The Gleam."
"Partially."
"The artificial cores."
"Closer."
"The pattern retention."
The stranger smiled. "Very good."
Elira's eyes narrowed. "But?"
"But you're still thinking like an engineer."
The chamber became quiet. Elira folded the documents carefully.
"What should I be thinking like?"
The stranger's smile faded. "An architect."
The word landed strangely. Serenya noticed Elira's reaction.
"Architect?"
The man seemed to realize he'd said something. He looked away.
"A manner of speaking."
"No." Serenya stepped toward him. "Who is the Architect?"
The stranger studied her. For the first time, something resembling genuine interest appeared in his expression.
"You've heard the name?"
"No."
"Then you shouldn't have."
Serenya's patience finally snapped. "Enough games."
Her weapon shifted. "You're trespassing beneath my city. You're maintaining illegal magical constructs. You've connected yourself to the death of Vanguard soldiers."
The stranger glanced toward the weapon. Then back at her. "Your city?"
Serenya's expression hardened. "Yes."
Something about the way he smiled unsettled her. "Interesting."
"What?"
"Nothing." He turned away again. "People have been claiming ownership of the ground above us for a very long time."
Elira watched him. "You know who built this place."
"Yes."
"Who?"
The stranger ran his fingers over one of the broken constructs. "The Architect."
Varros looked at Serenya. The commander didn't react. Not outwardly.
"What is he building?"
The man stopped. For several seconds, nothing moved. Then he looked toward the floor.
"That is a better question."
A faint sound echoed somewhere below them. A deep metallic groan. The Lazulli conduits flickered.
Elira looked upward. "What was that?"
The stranger's expression softened. "Something working."
Serenya's hand tightened around her weapon. "Working on what?"
The man didn't answer. Instead, he crouched beside the broken construct. His fingers gently touched the damaged metal around its chest.
"The Gleam as you call it was an interesting discovery."
Elira's attention sharpened. "Discovery?"
"Not invention."
"What do you mean?"
The stranger looked almost amused. "You think we made it?"
Serenya glanced at Elira. That was new.
The stranger continued. "Lazulli is crystalline." He tapped the broken construct. "Stable." Then he pointed toward the substance illustrated in the document. "The Gleam is neither." His expression became almost reverent. "It moves."
Varros looked toward the nearby construct. "You're telling me that thing was alive?"
"No." The stranger smiled. "I'm telling you that it remembers how to be."
Elira went still. The earlier phrase returned to her. Post-mortem retention.
She slowly looked toward the corpses illustrated elsewhere in the documents.
Then toward the stranger. "You're studying biological retention."
The man looked at her. "I study preservation."
"Of dead things."
"Of useful things."
Serenya stepped forward. "That sounds remarkably similar to necromancy."
The stranger gave a quiet laugh. "Everything sounds like necromancy if you're frightened enough."
The chamber fell silent. Then something moved. Not far away. One of the broken constructs twitched. Varros immediately raised his weapon. Serenya stepped between him and Elira. But the construct did not rise. Instead, a damaged hand slowly curled against the floor. Metal scraped stone. Once. Then again.
The stranger sighed. "Ah."
Elira slowly turned toward him. "What was that?"
He looked almost embarrassed. "Residual activity."
Serenya didn't lower her weapon. "Residual."
"Yes."
"It's dead."
"Is it?"
The construct's fingers curled again. A faint blue-green light appeared within its broken chest. The stranger watched it. His expression became thoughtful.
"No." He corrected himself. "Perhaps that one is."
Elira's eyes widened. "Commander."
Serenya already knew. She could hear it. Something else was moving. Deeper inside the facility. Not one sound. Several. Slow footsteps. Metal against stone. Then something heavier. A body being dragged. The stranger looked toward the darkness. For the first time since appearing, he seemed genuinely concerned.
"That," he said quietly, "is inconvenient."
Serenya's weapon came up. "What is?"
The old man looked at her. Then toward the approaching sounds.
"I was hoping you'd leave before they woke up."
The first shape emerged from the darkness. Serenya immediately understood why Elira had initially mistaken the remains around the facility for constructs. It was humanoid. Armored. And wrong. Its skin had long since lost its color. Metal braces had been fused to its limbs. A Lazulli conduit ran from its spine into the machinery behind it. But its eyes were open. And watching. The stranger looked almost apologetic.
"Well." Varros raised his weapon. "Who the hell are you?"
The old man looked at the approaching corpse. Then back at them. For the first time, his smile returned.
"My apologies." He gave a small, almost courteous bow. "I appear to have been dishonest."
Elira's fingers tightened around the documents. Serenya took a step forward.
The stranger straightened. "I am not merely maintaining the facility." Behind him, another corpse opened its eyes. "I maintain the things that remain."