Meanwhile, in Solaris City…
The girl whimpered when the door opened.
Lord Solaris did not look at her at first. He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve, smoothing fabric that did not need smoothing, as if the room itself had offended him by existing. The air was thick with the coppery scent of fear and something older. Something practiced.
"Enough," he said mildly.
She froze.
His assistant stood just inside the threshold, eyes fixed firmly on the stone floor.
"My lord," the man said. "You have a guest Sir, Lord Narith's son."
Solaris exhaled, slow and annoyed, like a man interrupted mid-thought. He turned his head slightly. "Do I?"
"Yes, my lord. He says he has critical information about someone you'd be interested in."
That earned attention. Solaris finally looked down at the girl. Her eyes were wide, glassy, her hands trembling where they clutched the thin dress to her naked chest. She had learned silence quickly. That had been disappointing.
"Get dressed," he told her. "You're finished for today."
Relief hit her so hard her knees nearly gave out.
"And send her back to the facility," he added, already turning away. "I'm tired of this one."
"Of course, my lord." The assistant bowed.
Solaris did not look back as the girl was led away. He washed his hands, carefully, methodically, as if removing something distasteful rather than human. A knock came, firmer this time.
"Enter."
The door opened to admit a young man in tailored finery, posture rigid with barely restrained eagerness. He was not a servant, nor an errand runner. The cut of his coat, the sigil worked subtly into the clasp at his throat, marked him as noble born.
Early twenties. Old enough to have learned pride. Young enough to mistake it for power.
He bowed, deeply. "Lord Solaris."
Solaris turned, eyes narrowing just a fraction. "You're not scheduled."
"No, my lord." The young man straightened, producing a sealed packet. "I come on my own behalf. And, I believe in your interest."
Solaris regarded him in silence, then gestured lazily. "Speak."
The young lord swallowed once. "There is a woman. A craftswoman. A beast tamer. She humiliated me publicly before the Adventurer and Hunter Association. Mocked my authority. Undermined my name in front of my peers.
When I looked into her background, there was nothing special about her family, all dead. She has advanced faster than anyone I've seen. Last I heard she was around level Twenty. She'd only been integrated a few months. However her file was marked confidential. Her id says Blue tier, but I'm guessing the AHA doesn't hide people's information if they are Blue tier. Not unless there's something else."
Solaris's expression remained neutral, but his attention sharpened.
"She operates out of Dungeon City," the young man continued quickly. "Caused some fuss with the consortium. She recently helped stop a manufactured beast wave in Crossroads Village. Had the perpetrators captured. Turned public sentiment."
That earned a flicker of interest.
"And," the young lord added, unable to keep the satisfaction from his voice, "she interfered in a hunt. A griffon."
Solaris reached for the packet.
"Go on."
The young man's lips curved, just slightly. "I want her captured."
Solaris opened the papers.
"I want her broken," the young lord said. "And I want the right to be the one who does it. For what she cost me. For what she took."
Solaris scanned the report. Names. Events. Locations. Then he stopped. Foreman's daughter. His fingers stilled. The room seemed to grow very quiet.
"You're certain," Solaris said slowly, "that this woman stopped the beast wave and interfered with the griffon hunt?"
"Yes, my lord."
Solaris looked up. "And you want her alive."
"Yes."
A pause. Then Solaris smiled.
Not the thin, amused smile he wore for incompetence. This one was deliberate.
"You've done very well," Solaris said. "You've brought me a problem I didn't realize had a single source."
He closed the packet. "You may have your request."
The young lord's breath caught. "My lord?"
"She will be captured," Solaris continued.
"She will be punished. Thoroughly."
Hope flared too quickly.
"But," Solaris added, voice smooth as glass, "you will not touch her without my permission."
The young man stiffened. "My lord, I was under the impression—"
"You are granted consideration for your work," Solaris corrected. "Not ownership."
He stepped closer. "Be grateful. You've earned a front-row seat. That is more than most receive."
The young lord bowed again, sharper this time. "Thank you, my lord."
Solaris watched him leave. Only once the door had closed did Solaris turn his attention back to the papers.
Foreman's daughter.
Alive.
Active.
Talented enough to survive a beast wave and bold enough to defy him. And, most importantly— Close enough to be retrieved.
He smiled again, already turning toward the hidden stair located at the top of a hidden tunnel.
The door shut quickly. Solaris did not return to his chambers. Instead, he descended.
The Solaris Children's Home was quiet at night, its halls immaculate, its walls decorated with cheerful murals and carefully chosen prayers. It smelled of soap and order and false mercy.
Few knew what lay beneath it. Fewer still were allowed to enter.
The hidden stairway opened at his touch, stone sliding aside without a sound. The warmth of the upper halls vanished as he descended, replaced by damp air and iron.
Cells lined the corridor below. Some were empty. Some were not.
He stopped before one near the end.
The woman inside had gone very still.
She was older now. Late thirties, perhaps. Her hair was streaked prematurely with grey, her face thin from years of controlled deprivation rather than neglect. Her eyes, however, were unchanged.
Defiant. Tired. Alive.
"Well," Solaris said lightly. "It's been some time."
She did not speak.
"I've found her," he continued. "Your wayward daughter."
Her breath hitched despite herself. Solaris noticed. He always did.
"She's done quite well, actually," he said conversationally. "Talented. Stubborn. Loud enough to be noticed."
He leaned closer to the bars. "And she cost me something I wanted very badly."
Silence stretched. The woman's hands trembled where they gripped the edge of her cot.
"I've decided on a correction," Solaris said. "A lesson, really. For both of you."
Her voice finally broke through. "Don't."
"Oh, I will," he replied pleasantly. "I'm going to move her here. Right across the hall."
Her head snapped up.
"You'll see her every day," Solaris continued.
"Every failure. Every punishment. Every time she refuses to learn her place."
He straightened. "All because you refused to cooperate all those years ago."
Tears slid down her face, silent and furious.
Solaris watched them with mild interest.
"I thought you'd like to know," he said. "Before I inform her father."
He turned to leave, then paused. "Do try to rest. The coming days will be… eventful."
The door closed behind him.
The corridor returned to silence, broken only by the sound of restrained sobbing echoing softly through stone.
Back at The AHA Headquarters…
"...And that's how I became the guardian of a Griffon chick… cub?...chub? No, that one's definitely not right… well whatever, she's like, five times bigger than when we met. Not really a baby anymore.
The griffon isn't really what I want to discuss. The men involved were taken by the Frosthaven branch of the AHA and should be transferred to the capital to be dealt with there." She said, a concerned look on her face.
"The real problem is that both groups knew each other. Or at least knew of each other. Both were hired by a proxy, some broker, but I know the name of the person who wanted the griffon, and I'm assuming if the beast wave was their retaliation for my involvement."
Christoff looked at her with a complicated look, knowing that whoever it was was surely going to result in more work for him.
"And who might that be?" He cringed.
Sam looked at him for a minute. Mentally asking Jarvis if telling him was going to help or just bring her neck closer to the chopping block.
"Lord Solaris." She said, Jarvis explained that Mr. Macintosh here was squeaky clean, or as much as you could be in his line of work, and had a great reputation in the AHA.
"I see, he's not one to mess with. Last time I checked he was level one hundred and forty-nine. Purple of course, and a Arcblade, someone who uses a mix of magic and combat. Honestly, he could have been an amazing adventurer.
"But like most nobles, most of his experience is in training the noble way. Arenas and fail-safes. Sure he's been in the dungeons and The Lab, but it was while he was surrounded by expendable guards." He made an awkward smile.
"Don't get me wrong, I'm sure he is still formidable, but the man is reaching his late sixties by now. Not that he looks it, but charisma probably had a hand with that. His support class seems to be some kind of manipulation class. Conversations always seem to go his way with the other person only knowing afterwards that something wasn't quite right."
{"Well that's a frightening skill."}
Jarvis was right, it's hard to fight against someone who can make you agree with his point of view. She wondered how many people actually followed him by choice, and how many were forced and constantly manipulated.
Christoff closed the griffon file with a precise motion and set it atop the growing stack to his right.
"That concludes the official matter regarding the Windrider Sovereign," he said. "You handled it… properly. Further investigation will look into what you said. But keep in mind Solaris is a powerful foe."
Sam gave a small nod. She was sitting straighter than she felt. The long day was settling into her bones now.
"Good," she said gently. "I'd rather not have to fight paperwork too. Clearly Solaris will prove to be enough of a problem on his own."
A faint huff of amusement escaped him.
There was a pause. A small one. The kind that didn't belong.
Sam noticed it.
"You have one more thing," she said, not accusing. Just perceptive.
"I do."
He folded his hands loosely on the desk.
"The pendant you used to retrieve the child."
She didn't tense this time. Just listened.
"Would you be willing to assist the Association by crafting more of them?"
She blinked once, absorbing that. "For emergency retrieval?"
"Yes."
He held her gaze steadily.
"We've confirmed an increase in fatalities beyond Floor Seventy. Not rumor. Not guild gossip. Confirmed reports."
Her expression shifted. Tiredness remained, but something sharper slid in behind it.
"That's not normal," she said quietly.
"No," Christoff agreed. "It is not."
A silence followed, heavier than the last.
"You want them for investigation teams," she said.
"Yes. And eventually, for adventurers pushing that depth. Even single-use extraction would drastically improve survival rates."
Sam leaned back slightly in her chair, thinking it through.
"I'm working on a group version," she said after a moment. "One activation, multiple linked targets."
Christoff's brows lifted just slightly.
"It's not stable enough yet," she continued. "But I can make single-target pendants. Reliable ones."
Relief softened his features.
"That would be more than we currently have."
She gave a small nod.
"I'll need people to test them," she added. "Real people. My tames don't count. The system recognizes them as extensions of me during teleportation."
Christoff considered that immediately. "Understood."
"The highest floor I have access to is Eleven," she continued. "So testing will have to occur between Eleven and up. Controlled stress during live combat."
He inclined his head. "That is reasonable."
"I'd like a small group," she said. "Close to my age. No nobles."
That last part was mild. Not bitter. Just practical.
Christoff's mouth curved faintly.
"You assume I would assign nobles?"
"I assume you wouldn't," she replied softly. "But I'm clarifying anyway."
"Well done."
He nodded once. "I have a cohort in mind. Promising. Non-noble. Recently graduated and waiting for official placement. This would give them field experience."
"That's perfect."
"They are competent," he added. "But not yet overconfident."
"Even better."
For the first time in the conversation, Sam allowed herself a small smile.
"I'll begin crafting the single-target pendants immediately," she said. "The group version will take longer, but it's coming."
Christoff stood as she did.
"Any assistance you provide may save lives," he said, quieter now. Less manager. More man.
"I hope so," she answered honestly.
She adjusted the strap of her scabbard over her shoulder, fatigue slipping back into place now that decisions had been made.
"I'll send a batch of the single target pendants first. I'd prefer to test them along with the group ones. I'm not sure if they'll even work in the lab yet. Plus I recently gained access to nodes that will boost the distance of the receivers. The extra power may help inside the dungeon too."
He nodded.
"Thank you for asking, by the way" she said.
That caught him slightly off guard.
"I beg your pardon?"
"You could've ordered," she said simply. "You didn't."
Christoff held her gaze for a moment.
"No," he said. "I did not."
She gave him a final polite incline of her head.
"Then I'll see you when your orders ready. Once we test them we'll talk about the price" she said getting up from the chair.
The door closed gently behind her. Christoff remained still for several seconds, staring at the empty space she'd occupied.
Floor Seventy.
The numbers on his desk. The quiet rise in death reports. And now, at least, a thread of countermeasure. Not certainty.
But something.