The enormous metal doors continued to open.
At first, Arin could see only light.
A warm golden glow spilled across the road, washing over the silent courtyard and reflecting from the silver band around his wrist. The sound coming from within was low and steady, like the heartbeat of some giant mechanical beast slowly waking beneath the earth.
Lyra moved closer to him.
"Is it supposed to sound like that?"
"I hope so."
"That wasn’t very reassuring."
"It wasn’t meant to be."
The doors finally stopped.
Beyond them stretched a hall so vast that Arin couldn’t immediately see where it ended.
Rows of inactive machines lined both sides of the chamber. Some were shaped like enclosed furnaces. Others resembled metal tables covered in mechanical arms. Suspended tracks ran across the ceiling, disappearing through openings in distant walls.
The entire place felt less like a workshop and more like a sleeping factory.
Dust should have covered everything.
Instead, the floor was spotless.
Thin blue lines ran beneath the dark metal surface, flickering on one after another as the Central Workshop recognized its Founder.
«CENTRAL WORKSHOP REACTIVATION...
2%
PRIMARY POWER GRID: PARTIAL
PRODUCTION LINES AVAILABLE: 1
PRODUCTION LINES LOCKED: 2,417»
Arin stopped walking.
"Two thousand four hundred and seventeen?"
EVE nodded.
"That is correct."
"And I can use one?"
"That is also correct."
He stared into the endless hall.
For a moment, he almost laughed.
Yesterday, he had been declared worthless because he possessed no Hunter Class.
Today, he apparently owned more production facilities than most kingdoms had blacksmiths.
The absurdity of his life was becoming difficult to process.
Lyra stepped into the workshop and looked around with open fascination.
"It’s bigger than Father’s throne hall."
"Much bigger."
"Can it make toys?"
Arin glanced toward EVE.
The Keeper answered without hesitation.
"Yes."
Lyra’s expression became serious.
"This is the most important building in the city."
"Please don’t let that become our first production goal," Arin said.
"No promises."
They moved deeper into the hall.
As they walked, small lights illuminated above them. Mechanical arms twitched awake. Metal panels slid open and closed. Somewhere in the distance, several machines emitted sharp hisses as ancient pressure systems stabilized.
Then a sound echoed from behind one of the production units.
Clang.
Arin immediately stopped.
Lyra did too.
Another clang followed.
Then a scrape.
Slowly, something rolled into view.
It stood barely three feet tall and moved on two broad mechanical legs. Its body was square, its arms too long for its frame, and a single circular lens glowed blue in the center of its head.
The machine paused upon seeing them.
Then it raised one hand.
"HELLO."
Lyra waved immediately.
"Hello!"
Arin did not.
"What is that?"
"Workshop Assistant Unit W-03," EVE replied.
The machine bowed.
"FOUNDER IDENTIFIED."
Its lens moved toward Lyra.
"SMALL FOUNDER IDENTIFIED."
Lyra beamed.
"I’m the small Founder."
"No, you are not."
"Designation accepted," the machine replied.
Arin stared at it.
"Do any of the machines here listen to me?"
"Of course," EVE said.
"Eventually."
That last word concerned him.
W-03 turned toward the darkened production line.
"REACTIVATION REQUEST RECEIVED."
The machine raised both arms.
"WARNING: PRODUCTIVITY LEVEL EMBARRASSING."
Arin blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"CURRENT WORKSHOP OUTPUT: ZERO."
Its lens narrowed.
"UNACCEPTABLE."
"I’ve owned the place for less than a day."
"EXCUSES DETECTED."
Lyra covered her mouth to hide a laugh.
Arin looked at EVE.
"Did you program this thing?"
"No."
"Can you turn it off?"
W-03 immediately stepped backward.
"HOSTILITY DETECTED."
"I asked a question."
"UNJUSTIFIED HOSTILITY DETECTED."
Arin decided that restoring the city might be more difficult than he had expected.
EVE approached the only active production line.
Compared to the surrounding machinery, it was surprisingly small. A long metal platform occupied the center, surrounded by six mechanical arms. At the far end stood a vertical frame filled with shifting blue light.
"This is Fabrication Line Zero-One," she explained.
"It can produce basic materials and low-tier equipment."
"What counts as low-tier?"
"Tools. Construction components. Civilian devices. Beginner weapons. Basic vehicles."
Arin’s eyes moved toward her.
"Beginner weapons?"
"Yes."
"What kind?"
"Would you like to view the available blueprints?"
Before he could answer, a screen appeared.
«FABRICATION LINE ZERO-ONE
AVAILABLE BLUEPRINT CATEGORIES:
SURVIVAL
CONSTRUCTION
TRANSPORTATION
DEFENSE
DOMESTIC
RECREATIONAL»
Lyra immediately pointed.
"Recreational."
"No."
"Domestic?"
"No."
"Survival?"
"We’re looking at Construction."
"That sounds boring."
"It keeps roofs from falling on people."
"Still boring."
Arin selected the Construction category.
A long list appeared, though most entries were darkened.
«AVAILABLE:
BASIC LUMBER PANEL
REINFORCED STONE BLOCK
STRUCTURAL METAL BEAM
PORTABLE WATER PURIFIER
FIELD CONSTRUCTION DRONE
LOCKED:
1,201 BLUEPRINTS»
He selected the field construction drone.
An image appeared before him.
It was a compact, four-legged machine equipped with tools and storage compartments.
«FIELD CONSTRUCTION DRONE
FUNCTION:
BASIC BUILDING, REPAIR, CLEARING, AND RESOURCE PROCESSING
REQUIREMENTS:
25 UNIVERSAL CREDITS
10 UNITS OF IRON
5 UNITS OF WOOD
3 BASIC CIRCUITS
CURRENTLY AVAILABLE:
UNIVERSAL CREDITS: 25
IRON: 0
WOOD: 0
BASIC CIRCUITS: 0»
Arin’s excitement faded.
"So I can’t build it."
"Not yet," EVE said.
"What about the portable shelter? The System summoned that without materials."
"The starter package used reserved Founder resources."
"And those are gone?"
"Mostly."
Of course they were.
Easy answers apparently expired quickly in Project Elysium.
Arin opened his inventory.
The survival pack, repair kit, spare bread, and several minor supplies were still present.
No iron.
No wood.
No circuits.
"Where do I get resources?"
"Several methods are available."
EVE raised one finger.
"Gather them personally."
A second.
"Purchase them."
A third.
"Salvage abandoned Elysium infrastructure."
Arin frowned.
"Salvage the city?"
"Only ruined or obsolete structures."
"That sounds dangerous."
"It is."
"Naturally."
A new screen appeared.
«WORKSHOP AUTHORITY TUTORIAL AVAILABLE.
OBJECTIVE:
PRODUCE YOUR FIRST ITEM.
REWARD:
FIELD CONSTRUCTION DRONE BLUEPRINT
UNIVERSAL CREDITS +50
BASIC RESOURCE CRATE x1»
Arin stared.
"Produce an item to receive the resources needed to produce a better item."
"Correct," EVE replied.
"What can I make right now?"
The list changed.
«BEGINNER PRODUCTION OPTIONS:
METAL CUP
SIMPLE KNIFE
BASIC TOOL HAMMER
CHILD’S WOODEN FIGURE
CLOTH BLANKET»
Lyra gasped.
"Wooden figure."
"We need tools."
"Wooden figure."
"We are rebuilding a city."
"Wooden figure."
Arin looked at EVE for support.
The Keeper’s expression remained perfectly neutral.
"Family morale is considered a strategic resource."
He slowly turned toward her.
"You’ve chosen her side."
"I have chosen the side most likely to maintain domestic stability."
That was an extremely complicated way of saying yes.
Arin exhaled.
"Fine."
Lyra threw both hands into the air.
"Victory!"
The wooden figure required only two credits and one unit of basic organic material.
W-03 waddled toward a nearby storage compartment, opened it, and removed a small block of pale wood.
"EMERGENCY ORGANIC STOCK."
"Why do you have emergency wood?" Arin asked.
"EMERGENCIES."
He should have known better than to ask.
Arin placed the wood into the indicated compartment.
The production line awakened immediately.
Mechanical arms descended.
A blue light scanned the material.
Then came a blur of movement.
Cutting.
Carving.
Polishing.
The entire process lasted less than ten seconds.
When the arms withdrew, a small wooden rabbit stood on the platform.
It had long ears, round feet, and a tiny carved smile.
Lyra stared at it.
Then slowly picked it up.
"It’s Mr. Buttons."
"A smaller version," Arin said.
"His younger brother."
"How large is this family going to become?"
"As large as necessary."
A notification appeared.
«FIRST ITEM SUCCESSFULLY PRODUCED.
WORKSHOP AUTHORITY UNLOCKED.
AUTHORITY LEVEL: 1
REWARD RECEIVED:
UNIVERSAL CREDITS +50
BASIC RESOURCE CRATE x1
FIELD CONSTRUCTION DRONE BLUEPRINT CONFIRMED.»
The crate materialized beside the production line with a heavy thud.
W-03 immediately approached it.
"PRODUCTIVITY IMPROVED."
Its lens brightened.
"FOUNDER SLIGHTLY LESS EMBARRASSING."
Arin clenched his jaw.
"I’m going to dismantle that thing."
"THREAT RECORDED."
Lyra hugged the wooden rabbit against her chest.
"Don’t worry, I won’t let him dismantle you."
"SMALL FOUNDER DESIGNATED AS PREFERRED FOUNDER."
"Traitor," Arin muttered.
The resource crate opened automatically.
Inside were neatly arranged bars of metal, treated wood, and several small crystalline components that resembled transparent cards.
«BASIC RESOURCE CRATE:
IRON UNITS: 20
WOOD UNITS: 20
BASIC CIRCUITS: 10
SYNTHETIC FIBER: 10
CONSTRUCTION COMPOUND: 5»
There was enough to create the construction drone.
Arin selected the blueprint.
«CONFIRM PRODUCTION?
COST:
25 UNIVERSAL CREDITS
10 IRON
5 WOOD
3 BASIC CIRCUITS»
He pressed yes.
This production took longer.
The machine consumed the resources one after another. Metal bars disappeared into a furnace. Sparks burst beneath the mechanical arms. Components were shaped, assembled, and connected with astonishing precision.
Arin watched every movement.
No blacksmith in the kingdom could have created something like this.
Not even the greatest royal artificers.
The thought sent a quiet chill through him.
If anyone outside learned what the Central Workshop could do, House Elysium would immediately become a target.
Nobles would come.
Guilds would come.
The royal family would come.
Perhaps even neighboring kingdoms.
And that was while only one production line was active.
"What happens if someone steals something we make?" he asked.
EVE’s expression turned serious.
"Family-locked equipment will cease functioning."
"And if they try to study it?"
"Sensitive components will erase themselves."
"Destroy themselves?"
"If necessary."
Arin looked toward the half-built drone.
"Nothing leaves this valley without my permission."
EVE bowed her head.
"An appropriate first decree."
The final mechanical arm withdrew.
A four-legged machine now stood on the platform.
It was slightly larger than a hunting dog, with a flat body, reinforced limbs, and several folded tools along its sides.
Its central lens flickered.
Then glowed blue.
«FIELD CONSTRUCTION DRONE COMPLETE.
AWAITING DESIGNATION.»
Lyra raised her hand.
"Builder."
Arin glanced at her.
"That’s surprisingly reasonable."
"I was going to say Sir Hammerfeet."
"Builder it is."
«DESIGNATION ACCEPTED:
BUILDER-01.»
The drone stepped off the platform.
Its movements were smooth and nearly silent.
It walked toward Arin, stopped, and lowered its body.
"Awaiting construction orders."
Arin smiled despite himself.
One machine.
It wasn’t an army.
It wasn’t a city restored.
But it was a beginning.
A real beginning.
"What can it build?"
The city map appeared.
Several small structures near the mansion were marked in yellow.
«AVAILABLE PROJECTS:
REPAIR EASTERN GUEST HOUSE
RESTORE SMALL GREENHOUSE
CLEAR SOUTHERN ROAD
REACTIVATE BASIC WATER PUMP
REPAIR OUTER CABIN»
Arin paused at the final option.
The portable cabin in the forest.
Their first shelter after exile.
He could abandon it now.
There was no practical reason to keep it.
But the cabin represented something important.
It was the first place that had belonged to them.
Not to House Valerius.
Not to the Duke.
To Arin and Lyra.
"Repair the outer cabin," he said.
Builder-01’s lens flashed.
"Order accepted."
The drone turned and began walking toward the exit.
Lyra hurried after it.
"Wait for me!"
Arin caught the back of her coat before she could get far.
"You’re not following a construction machine into the forest."
"But it might need supervision."
"It does not."
"How do you know?"
"Because it’s probably more responsible than both of us."
"That’s true," EVE said.
Arin gave her a look.
"You weren’t supposed to agree."
Before she could answer, every machine in the workshop suddenly stopped.
The golden lights dimmed.
A sharp pulse traveled through the floor.
EVE’s head snapped toward the far end of the chamber.
Her eyes flashed blue.
"That should not be possible."
Arin’s brief sense of triumph vanished.
"What happened?"
A deep metallic sound echoed from somewhere beneath them.
Not from the production line.
From below.
Far below.
The floor trembled once.
Then again.
A new notification appeared.
«WARNING.
UNAUTHORIZED POWER ACTIVATION DETECTED.
SOURCE:
SUBLEVEL NINE.»
Arin looked at EVE.
"What is on Sublevel Nine?"
The Keeper didn’t answer.
For the first time since he had met her, fear crossed her face.
"Master," she said quietly, "the Central Workshop has only eight registered sublevels."
The trembling stopped.
Silence filled the hall.
Then, from somewhere beneath the impossible ninth level, a voice whispered through the workshop’s speakers.
It was weak.
Broken.
And unmistakably human.
"Founder..."
Arin’s blood turned cold.
The voice returned, this time clearer.
"Do not trust EVE."