The Workshop: Midnight

  The workshop smelled of burnt insulation and hot copper. It was a narrow, cluttered space beneath the Artificer Dorms, filled with the hum of cooling fans and the frantic clack-clack-clack of Kian’s keyboard.

  Amari sat on a stool in the corner, shrouded in the shadows between two server racks.

  He held a small paring knife and a red apple. He wasn't looking at the fruit. His eyes stayed on the back of Kian’s head while his hands moved with mechanical precision.

  The blade bit into the skin. He rotated the apple slowly. The red peel came away in one long, unbroken spiral, hanging from the fruit like a ribbon.

  Kian was vibrating. His leg bounced nervously under the desk, shaking the monitors.

  "I'm in," Kian whispered, sweat beading on his forehead. "I bypassed the Artificer Guild's front end. I'm looking at the raw data stream."

  "Visual," Amari ordered softly.

  Kian hit a key. The main screen flickered, replacing lines of code with a massive, pulsing visualization.

  It looked like a heartbeat. A rhythmic, violet wave spiking and falling across a map of the region.

  [NODE: FLORENCE REGION]

  [CURRENT YIELD: 84%]

  [PROJECTED HARVEST: 92%]

  "Harvest," Kian breathed, confused. "What are they harvesting? It’s not crops."

  Amari stopped peeling.

  He stared at the pulsing wave.

  He knew that pulse.

  The Ether-Grid, Amari thought, a cold weight settling in his chest.

  He had seen that same violet rhythm ten years from now, burning in the sky above the Capital. He had seen it powering the Dread-Dredges that scoured the cities. He had seen it sucking the life out of the atmosphere until the air itself turned gray.

  This is Phase One, Amari realized. They didn't invade to conquer. They built a gas station.

  "Amari?" Kian asked, glancing back. "What is this?"

  Amari sliced a wedge of the apple. He kept his face blank. He couldn't tell Kian that he was looking at the fuel source for the end of the world. Kian would break.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "Look at the packet type," Amari said calmly, playing the role of the observer. "Is it raw mana?"

  Kian typed frantically. "No. It’s... scrubbed. The volatility is gone. It’s filtered."

  "Filtered through what?"

  Kian traced the line back to the source. His eyes widened.

  "Human cores," Kian whispered. "It’s filtering through us."

  "Like a refinery," Amari said.

  "Exactly," Kian said, horrified. "The Dungeons... they aren't just spawning monsters. They're stress testers. They force us to burn mana. The more we burn, the more the ambient mana in the air gets... flavored. Stabilized."

  Kian spun his chair around.

  "And then the Academy collects the charged air."

  Amari ate the apple slice. He chewed slowly, letting the silence stretch.

  "Efficiency," Amari murmured. "If you want to mine gold, you don't dig it yourself. You let a million people pan the river, then you tax the river."

  "But why?" Kian asked, his voice trembling. "Why do they need us to process it? Why not just use crystals?"

  "Raw mana is wild," Amari said. "Human-processed mana is fuel. It doesn't explode unless you tell it to."

  And it powers the only ships that can cross the Void, Amari added silently.

  Suddenly, the screen flashed red.

  [SECURITY ALERT]

  [UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS DETECTED]

  [TRACING...]

  "Oh god," Kian gasped, jumping out of his chair. "They found me. They're tracing the terminal! If they ID this rig, I’m expelled. I’m dead!"

  The room plunged into panic. Kian scrambled to grab the data drive, his hands shaking so hard he fumbled it onto the desk. He reached for the power cord to yank it.

  "We have to go! We have to run!" Kian yelled.

  Amari didn't move. He didn't stand up. He carefully cut another slice of apple.

  "Don't run," Amari said. His voice didn't rise an octave. It cut through Kian’s panic like the knife through the peel.

  "They'll see the disconnect!" Kian shrieked. "The trace is at 80%!"

  "If you disconnect now, the trace completes," Amari said. "You have to crash the node."

  "Crash it? That will blow the capacitors! It'll shut down the whole dorm grid!"

  "Do it," Amari ordered. "Burn the bridge."

  Kian hesitated, his hand hovering over the keyboard.

  "Kian," Amari said.

  He placed the apple core gently on the table.

  "Do it."

  Kian squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his hand onto the enter key.

  ZZZZZT.

  A shower of sparks erupted from the server rack. A capacitor popped with the sound of a gunshot.

  The lights in the workshop died. The hum of the cooling fans cut out instantly, replaced by a ringing, heavy silence and the smell of fried silicone.

  "It's done," Kian whispered in the dark. "I killed the connection."

  "Good," Amari said.

  There was a soft thud from above.

  Niko dropped from the ceiling pipes, landing in a crouch next to Amari. He didn't make a sound.

  "That was loud," Niko said, his voice a low vibration in the dark. "The Artificers will be swarming this place in five minutes. The Guild Enforcers in ten."

  "Let them swarm," Amari said, standing up and wiping the juice from his knife. "We have the data."

  He picked up the small black data drive Kian had left on the desk. It was warm to the touch.

  "What does it say?" Niko asked.

  Amari looked at the chip in the moonlight filtering through the ventilation grate.

  He didn't just see data. He saw the reason his friends died in the first timeline. He saw the economic engine of the war.

  "It says we aren't students," Amari said quietly. "We're batteries."

  He pocketed the drive.

  "Kian, wipe your prints. Niko, get us out."

  "Where are we going?" Kian asked, grabbing his bag, his breathing still ragged.

  Amari walked to the door. He didn't look back at the ruined server.

  "To find out who's holding the leash."