Several hours later...

The holographic display bled out, lines of light folding into themselves until the desk was bare again. Alpha's [Wasp] clicked its mandibles shut, red optic narrowing as the glow dimmed to a steady ember. The faint hum of its wings filled the silence that followed, the only sound in Yon Stonewall's office besides the steady creak of Hugo's armor as he shifted his bulk.

"So, what do you think?" Alpha asked cheerfully.

Yon leaned back slowly, palms dragging down his face. When his hands fell away, his eyes bored straight into the drone. "I think," he said at last, voice deep and gravely, "you're insane."

The drone's mandibles flexed. Alpha chuckled. "You're not the first to think so."

Yon's stare sharpened, his fingers drumming against the desk. "You realize the clans and sects won't let you do this. Not without interference. And Icefinger—" his voice dropped like a hammer, "—you're inviting open warfare into the streets."

The [Wasp] tilted its head, antennae flicking. "With your clans and sects distracted as they are, they won't have the manpower to spare. By the time they do, it will be too late. As for Icefinger…" Alpha's voice lost its cheer, iron sliding into the tone. "There was always going to be war. If what your people have told me, and what I've gathered myself, is correct, that man has been planning for this moment for a long time. The only difference now is that you have the opportunity to shape how that war plays out."

Yon shook his head, lips pulling into something halfway between a scowl and a smirk. "You're just asking me to replace one problem with potentially another. If I understand what you're trying to do, what makes you any different from Icefinger? How will backing you benefit Halirosa, and more importantly, the Adventurer's Guild?"

Alpha's optic flared brighter. "Other than the fact you like me?"

Yon barked out a laugh. "I'm afraid I'll need something a bit more substantial than that."

Silence stretched for a beat. Alpha let it breathe before replying, his voice smooth as oil. "In the long term, more than you can possibly understand." The [Wasp]'s wings clicked once. "But if you're looking for more immediate benefits, it's simple. I'm willing to offer the adventurers of Halirosa what the clans and sects will not."

Yon's brow arched, but he stayed quiet. Waiting.

The [Wasp]'s antennae twitched. Light bloomed again over the desk, this time sculpting a three-dimensional rendering of Halirosa itself. Streets and walls rose in pale gold, the outline of surrounding mountains taking shape in jagged strokes of light. A single peak flared brighter, and the map tunneled inward. The hollow chamber at its heart appeared, along with the shaft that ran downward, then outward, beyond the edges.

"The Deep."

Hugo and Garrelt leaned forward almost unconsciously. Both recognized the train hub instantly.

The hologram followed the shaft farther, curving through the dark until it resolved into Alpha's cavern. A faint hum rattled the desk as the image stilled. Then Yon's mouth curved into a smirk.

"You're offering access to your cavern then? I'll admit, that's tempting. But for the risk invol—"

Alpha's chuckle cut him off. "Not just mine."

Light fractured. Dozens of shafts burst outward from the central hub, webbing in all directions. Some ran straight as arrows, others curved, splitting again and again until the map sprawled wide across the office. Branches reconnected at points, thickening into nodes, only to split once more. A spider's web of tunnels and caverns, endless and intricate.

Yon's composure cracked. His eyes bulged, his mouth falling open. One hand trembled against the desk, his fingers clenching to still the shake. Even Hugo's granite expression wavered, a flash of awe breaking across his scarred face. Garrelt swore under his breath, too low to be anything but reverence.

They had known of Alpha's "Nexus." Had heard the claims. But seeing the full scope rendered before them — seeing the veins of light stretch farther and farther until it felt the whole world might rest above it — was another matter entirely.

The office fell silent but for the low hum of the projection.

After a moment, Yon swallowed hard and forced his features back into stone. His gaze locked on the [Wasp], eyes sharp now, stripped of amusement. His voice came steady, low. "What do you need from the Guild?"

The [Wasp]'s optic flared, though Alpha's voice came smooth as ever. "Only your support. Your official recognition and endorsement. With that, the trust and goodwill flow naturally, and far quicker than otherwise."

Yon nodded once, already piecing the thought together. "You want to snatch Icefinger's foundation out from under him before he fully enacts whatever he's planning."

"Correct," Alpha replied.

Yon's lips twitched, the grimness twisting into something sharper. His grin spread, showing teeth, and he leaned forward, steepling his fingers atop the desk, and let the silence settle.

"Well then," Yon said, his eyes glinting in the glow of the fading hologram, "let's talk terms."

——————————————————

They worked the edges off the plan, one clause at a time.

For the better part of an hour, numbers and names piled in careful stacks across Yon's desk. Hugo spoke sparingly, adding a grunted correction when coin or manpower drifted into wishful thinking. Yon cut in when Guild protocol clashed with plans, smoothing language in the way of a man who had argued with scribes more than once. Garrelt listened more than he talked, but when he did, they often had to adjust something or another. Alpha noted the suggestions from each man and adjusted. The [Wasp]'s red eye washed faint light over the parchment as he projected manifests, schedules, and a tidy list of names who could be leaned on without tripping alarms.

They settled on signals and cover stories, on which "emergency supply orders" the Guild would direct toward Alpha's store, and which potentially hostile quartermasters might need a quiet visit from Garrelt in the next two days. They agreed on a wording for the Guild's "preliminary recognition" of the Nexus route — exactly vague enough to placate curious clansmen while still telling Guild adventurers which way the wind had turned. Yon demanded the right of first refusal on escort contracts tied to Alpha's shipments. Alpha countered with a rotating slate that would pull in independents without freezing out trusted teams. They haggled the rotation down to a formula that would look accidental if anyone with a nose for politics sniffed it.

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Yon pushed back his chair and stood with a stiff roll of his shoulders. Joints cracked like small twigs. He stretched his arms wide until the leather of his vest creaked, then let them drop. "Enough," he said, a dry humor in his voice. "If I spend any more time behind a closed door, someone will start inventing reasons for it." He nodded toward the papers. "We'll move on this, but if your plan works at all, it works because no one sees it coming."

Alpha's [Wasp] blinked, a red pulse. "Agreed."

Yon extended a hand across the desk without ceremony. The gesture hung for a breath. Hugo glanced at the drone on the desk. Alpha dipped his head the barest fraction.

Hugo rose, armor rasping, and took Yon's hand. The Guildmaster's grip was steady, skin rough as old rope. Their clasp lasted a beat longer than politeness required, long enough to make the point that had not made it into any clause.

"Then have a good day, 'Mr. Alpha.' Let us pray to the heavens that this is the beginning of a very…lucrative friendship." Yon said.

He turned his attention to Garrelt, who had been silent long enough for the room to forget he was there. "You stay," Yon told him. "We have some things to discuss better left to few ears."

Garrelt's expression didn't change, but he gave a short nod. Hugo cocked an eyebrow at him. Garrelt answered with a small shrug that said he'd expected as much.

Alpha lifted from the desk and returned to Hugo's shoulder with a light tick of metal on chitin. The two turned toward the door.

"Hugo," Yon called, voice flattening.

Hugo paused with the door half open. The corridor's brighter light cut a blade across his boots.

Yon exhaled through his nose, a small sigh that took a few years out of his voice. "While I doubt it makes up for it," he said, "I thought you might like to know the Xi lad didn't last very long. The fool ran home to his clan after only a handful of C-rank missions."

Hugo didn't speak, only stood there in silence for a breath, before he gave a single, clipped nod and stepped through, pulling the door shut until the latch clicked.

The corridor outside ran cool, its stone taking the hallway's chill and holding it. Voices from the main hall thinned to a muffled hum through the doors farther down. Light from rune-lamps laid even bars across the polished floor. The pair walked, Hugo's gait steady and mechanical in the way of a man who made himself move before his thoughts could decide not to.

For a dozen paces, the silence stretched thin as pulled sugar.

Alpha spoke first. "I don't make a habit of prying…" he said, voice low through the [Wasp]'s mandibles.

Hugo cast the drone a sidelong glance, one brow arched. A short laugh slipped from him before he caught it, the sound half-grim, half-amused.

The [Wasp]'s optics narrowed, wings giving a faint tick like a sigh. "...but the tension in that room could have cut parchment. If your past with the Guild is going to cause… issues, I need to know now."

Hugo's steps slowed. He came to a stop beside a narrow window where dusk-gray light pressed against cloudy glass. He stood there, hands hanging at his sides, helm tilted slightly as if listening to something deep in the wall. For a long moment, he said nothing.

"Did Bill and Claude ever tell you why they left the Guild?" he asked at last.

"They did. In part, at least." Alpha's mandibles flexed. "As far as I'm aware, Bill was harried out by a clan brat with more pride than skill. Claude picked up a string of bad contracts and hung himself with them."

Hugo huffed once; it might have been a laugh if you squinted at it. "That's one way to put it," he said. He turned from the window and started walking again. "What they likely didn't tell you was, it was all because of one man."

"When I met those two," he went on, "none of us had two coins to rub together. We weren't a party. Not on paper. But you run the same roads with the same people long enough, and you get to know each other. We'd run jobs together when the coin made sense. I was… reliable with a spear. Claude could talk a wall into moving. Bill knew maps and the kind of tricks that keep your feet under you." The corner of his mouth twitched like it wanted to be a smile and couldn't be bothered. "Nothing glorious. But it worked for us."

He started walking again, slower now, as if the pace itself needed care. Alpha said nothing. The [Wasp]'s antennae ticked the air above the hall runner.

He reached the bend in the corridor where a column shouldered up against the ceiling and leaned one hand against the cold stone. "After one run — nothing special, a beast-cull out near Ryan's Ferry — we came back with all our limbs and a sack of claws that would buy us a week's worth of meat. That's when he found us. Xi Jintao. Fancy sash, expensive boots, and enchantments fresh on his armor. Says he's been watching. Says we're wasted picking at scraps. Offers to sponsor us. Says the clan will cover fees, gear, the odd talisman or tablet, so long as we put our names under his flag." Hugo's smile didn't reach his eyes. "With him as leader, of course."

"You accepted," Alpha said. Not a question.

Hugo's fingers drummed once, twice on the pillar. "A clan name on your record opens doors. Even a small one. We were young. We didn't ask the questions we should have."

He pushed off the pillar and resumed his slow pace. "For a while, it looked like it was working. We wore the Xi colors when we had to, ran contracts on behalf of this committee or that cousin, and smiled to the right people. Jintao came along to meetings, said the right words, knew how to butter up the clients, and get the best deals. We didn't mind. Not at first. But he always seemed to find a reason to be 'overseeing' or 'negotiating' or 'covering our retreat' just behind the line. Never quite with us when things turned ugly. Always the one at the desk when it was time to sign."

Hugo's jaw shifted. The cusp of an old scar tugged when he clenched his teeth. "Then came the time for promotions. Imagine my surprise when Jintao made C-rank… but we were still sitting at D, even after all of our sweat and blood. Left holding with a ledger full of kills and escorts that somehow didn't seem to count."

Alpha's optic glowed, quiet. "You checked the records."

"Aye. We weren't a party," Hugo said. "Never had been. On paper, we were 'assistants' to Xi Jintao. A designation for hire-blades and bodyguards, meant to keep clan brats from getting themselves killed while they learn which end of the spear points outward."

He let his lip curl, the motion a small, bitter thing. "He'd been taking full credit for every job we pulled off the board." His hand tightened, the plated knuckles catching the lamplight and throwing back a cold, metallic gleam.

They reached an alcove where a wall statue of some old Guildmaster looked down with a gaze carved patient. Hugo stopped under it and let his head rest briefly against the cool stone behind his back.

"I confronted him," he said, voice low, the words scuffed by memory. "In public. I should've kept it quiet. I didn't." He inhaled; the breath came rough, like wind through a cracked bell. "He smiled — calm, like it was the most natural thing. Claimed he was our boss, that we were lucky to serve. We were his tools, his weapons. A sword isn't praised for its master's skill. I called him a liar and a fraud. He cried honor. I said the word 'thief' where people could hear. He called me an ignorant peasant who should know his place and hit things like he was told."

Hugo looked down the hall as if he could still see the boy there between the pillars.

"So I hit him in the face," he said, and there was no weight in it. "Not my finest hour."

Alpha's optic dimmed a shade. "And the Guild?"

"The Xi spoke to them," Hugo said. "Or someone carrying the Xi's seal did. I sat for a hearing with a magistrate who was very sorry to find I'd 'exhibited violent conduct unbecoming of a Guild member.' It saved the Guild face and saved the clan trouble. They didn't call it expulsion. They called it 'severance for cause.' Same thing." His voice roughened. "Bill and Claude lasted two months longer. No contracts would clear their names. The Xi boy filed a complaint that they'd 'compromised squad cohesion.' You can imagine how that goes when you have no name to defend with."

They walked again. The hall opened to a landing with narrow archer's slits cut to the street, letting a cool current creep across Hugo's face. He stood a moment in it.

"After that?" he said. "Coin dries up faster than pride. Icefinger's dogs were offering work the next week. Not honest work. Not clean. But it paid. Men with ruined names can't be picky, in the end."

He fell silent. The Guild's wall clock ticked muffled through two doors and a chain of halls. The [Wasp]'s wings made a soft metallic noise, not quite a sound, more like the idea of motion.

"I see," Alpha said.

Hugo gave a single, short nod. He started down the last flight, toward the front hall's broader noise. He didn't look back.

Neither said anything more, after that, and by the time they reached the main doors, the Guildhall had shifted back into its public face: queues neatly braided, messengers threading the gaps, a clerk balancing five contracts on her forearm like plates.

Hugo pushed through the doors into the dimming daylight. The street's noise hit like surf. He blinked once against the brightness and fell into step, moving without hurry, without dragging his feet.

"So," he said finally, not bothering to dress the question, "where to next, boss?"

"Back to the store," Alpha answered without missing a beat. The drone's eye cut a thin red line in the shade of Hugo's helm. "Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

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