The group returned to Victor’s dungeon, a growing, ever-shifting labyrinth of mechanical corridors and hidden chambers that moved and reconfigured itself at Victor’s will. Though they hadn’t managed to bring back as much loot as they’d hoped from the factory, the few power cores, blueprints, and rare components they had salvaged were enough to get started. Victor’s core, pulsing with a steady, determined glow, directed his allies to the central chamber, where the heart of his mobile dungeon lay.

  “We need to fortify,” Victor said through his speakers, his voice echoing through the chamber. “The factory’s alarms will have drawn attention, and it’s only a matter of time before the goblins or the Stormhammer Guild come knocking. We have to be ready.”

  Pip immediately set to work, spreading the blueprints out on a makeshift table and examining them under the glow of her goggles. “These schematics are incredible,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “There are designs for automated turrets, reinforced barriers, and even a prototype for a mobile defense unit. If we can replicate even a fraction of this, we’ll be in a much better position.”

  Aelin leaned over the table, her sharp eyes scanning the blueprints. “What do we need to make this happen?”

  Pip tapped a finger on one of the diagrams. “We’ve got the power cores, so that’s a start. But we’ll need more materials—scrap metal, wiring, and a lot of gears. If we can scavenge enough, I can start building the turrets and reinforcing the dungeon’s walls.”

  Borin grunted, hefting his hammer. “I’ll take S-01 and head back to the scrapyard. We can gather what we need there. But we’ll need to move fast—no telling how long we’ve got before the goblins show up.”

  Victor’s core pulsed with approval. “Do it. Aelin, you and Pip stay here and start working on the upgrades. Use whatever we have on hand to get started. I’ll monitor the perimeter and keep an eye out for any threats.”

  Borin and S-01 made their way to the scrapyard, the Steam Sentinel’s heavy footsteps crunching against the gravel path. The scrapyard was a sprawling wasteland of rusted metal, broken machinery, and forgotten relics of a bygone era. Borin swung his hammer idly as they walked, his eyes scanning the piles of debris for anything useful.

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  “So,” Borin said after a while, breaking the silence. “You and Victor… you’re connected, right? Like, you’re part of him, or something?”

  S-01’s glowing eyes flickered as Victor’s voice emanated from the Sentinel. “In a sense. S-01 is one of my constructs, but I can remotely operate it, see through its eyes, and speak through it. It’s an extension of my will.”

  Borin nodded, pausing to pry a sheet of metal loose from a pile. “Huh. Must be strange, being a… whatever you are. A dungeon core, but mobile. How’d that even happen?”

  There was a pause, and for a moment, Borin wondered if he’d overstepped. But then Victor’s voice came through again, quieter this time. “I wasn’t always like this. I was… something else, once. A person, maybe. I don’t remember much—just fragments. An accident, a flash of light, and then… this. A core, bound to a dungeon, with no memory of who I was or how I got here.”

  Borin stopped, turning to look at S-01. “That’s rough. No idea who you were before?”

  “None,” Victor admitted. “But in a way, it doesn’t matter. What matters is what I am now—and what I can do to protect the people who’ve chosen to stand with me.”

  Borin grunted, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a damn good job. Not many folks would’ve taken in a bunch of misfits like us.”

  Victor’s core pulsed faintly, a warm glow reflecting in S-01’s eyes. “You’re not misfits. You’re my allies. And I wouldn’t have made it this far without you.”

  Borin chuckled, hefting a bundle of scrap metal onto his shoulder. “Guess that makes us even, then. I wouldn’t have lasted long out here on my own, either. Too many goblins, too many guilds, and not enough good folk willing to stand their ground.”

  As they continued to gather materials, Borin found himself opening up more, sharing stories of his past—his days as a blacksmith, the fall of his village to the goblins, and his decision to take up the hammer not just to build, but to fight. Victor listened, his presence in S-01 a quiet but steady comfort. By the time they returned to the dungeon, laden with scrap, the two had formed an unspoken bond, forged in the shared understanding of loss and the determination to keep moving forward.