They came out of the tower half a klick outside the inner fence—same dusty zone where all cleared paths led. No ceremony. No escort. Just a shimmer, and then the open world.
Drex’s mech was dragging one leg. Juno’s arm was cracked clean down the elbow joint. The cart behind them clanked under the weight of crates sealed with tower alloy.
Three minutes later, the drones picked them up.
Detainment was fast, quiet, and efficient.
Two APCs. UN Tower Ops on the doors.
No weapons raised, but plenty of eyes watching.
The guards didn’t say much. Just scanned them, tagged the crates, and walked them into a hillside bunker marked “Tower Containment – Zone 6.”
Standard grey walls. Double doors. Monitoring glass overhead.
A junior officer asked for their names.
Drex gave his.
The officer paused. Checked the system. “Wait here.”
Fifteen minutes passed. Juno hadn’t said a word.
Then the inner door opened.
“...Riley?”
She stepped in like she’d just come from class. Same braid. Same calm face. Still had the damn tablet.
Drex blinked. “You work here?”
Riley shrugged. “Technically, I run this site.”
Juno: “What?”
Riley pulled a chair around and sat, flipping the tablet so they could see.
“Zone 6 is a Tier 2 Evaluation Center. I oversee pilot integration, material research, and tower-resonant frame design.”
Drex folded his arms. “You said you were a student.”
“I am a student. You didn’t ask what else I was.”
Juno looked at the one-way glass. “So what now? We arrested?”
Riley tapped her tablet. The wall behind her lit up—schematics, energy readings, heat trace, fight telemetry.
“No. You’re being debriefed. You cleared four tower floors with cobbled-together walkers and no military training. You brought back materials we haven’t seen outside controlled drops.”
She flicked through the loot report.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Instinct Stone, stable variant. Bloodvein Cord with no degradation. A fully intact tower modifier ring.”
Drex scratched his chin. “And that means...?”
“It means you went deeper than any of our teams. And we’ve sent a lot of people in—soldiers, prisoners, scouts. Most floors are being cleared with mounted carts and remote cameras.”
She brought up grainy footage of a tower team moving like a slow convoy. Riot shields. Shock poles. Automated defense trolleys. Two out of ten made it out.
“You’re the first independent run with multiple floors cleared, functional recovery, and intact salvage.”
Juno glanced at Drex. “So what, you want us to enlist?”
Riley shook her head. “No. I want you to keep doing exactly what you’re doing—just better. Safer. Properly supplied.”
She stood, walked to the door, then turned back.
“You don’t have to decide now,” she said. “But you’re on every watchlist we’ve got. Either we work together—or someone less reasonable will track you down and do it their way.”
Juno finally broke his silence.
“So you want us under contract?”
“I want you in the lab, building better suits, backed by research teams that know what you’re walking into. You’ve got instincts. That’s rare.”
She paused.
Riley tapped her tablet once more. The projection faded.
“I’ll leave you two to talk. The offer’s on the table,” she said. “You can walk away with your gear and keep doing things your way. Or you can stay and work with us. Either way—no one’s stopping you.”
She opened the door. “If you decide to stay, come find me.”
Then she left.
Juno leaned back in the chair.
“Well.”
Drex didn’t say anything for a few seconds.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Juno nodded. “We’re not walking away from this.”
“Didn’t think so.”
They stood, stretched, and walked out of the room. No security stopped them. No alarms. Just one hallway leading to the main research center.
Riley was waiting, leaning against a wall near the admin desk. She looked up as they approached.
“So?” she asked.
“We’re in,” Drex said.
Riley nodded, like she already knew.
“Rooms are in Section C. First left, second right. Kitchen’s open.”
She handed them each a keycard. “You start tomorrow. I’ll walk you through the lab at eight sharp.”
The kitchen was clean and plain—industrial setup, stocked fridge, basic hot plates. Juno fried up two toasties. Drex found reheated stew in a warmer tray.
They were halfway through eating when Riley walked in.
She didn’t grab food. Just sat down across from them.
“So,” she said, casual, “what exactly happened in there?”
Drex looked at Juno.
“You mean after we blew up the gate?”
“I mean all of it,” Riley said. “Each floor. The gnomes. The loot. What they told you. I want everything.”
Juno leaned back. “Not sure how much we remember. Was kinda a blur.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “Start from the beginning.”
They talked as they ate. Described the giant rats, the crushed captain, the ork holdout. The fight, the loot, the gnome support fire.
Drex explained the crawler's flamethrower overheating. Juno mentioned getting tackled mid-swing and the gnome’s rail shot saving him.
Riley listened closely, tapping short notes on her slate but not interrupting much.
When they described the gnomes’ gear, her eyes narrowed.
“They said you’re inefficient?”
“Yeah,” Drex said. “Loud. Crude. Impressive, though.”
Riley smiled. “They’re not wrong.”
When they got to the loot, she leaned in.
“The ring glowed when warm. You didn’t try it on?”
“Nope,” Drex said. “Didn’t seem smart.”
“Good. We’ve had modifiers kill people. Best case, it burns itself out.”
The night wore on.
They kept talking. Riley asked follow-up questions. Juno answered when he remembered something useful. Drex corrected him occasionally.
By the time they finished eating, the whole first dive was laid out—rough, honest, and real.
Riley stood.
“Good. We’ll log the footage you captured from your suits tomorrow. Start reverse-engineering what we can.”
She nodded once. “Get some rest. Tomorrow we build.”
Drex gave a tired thumbs-up. “See you at eight.”
