The second day of their journey took Mike and Morin deeper into the mountain range, following ancient paths that wound between towering peaks. The trail narrowed in places to little more than a goat track, forcing them to proceed single file along precipitous ledges with dizzying drops to one side. In other sections, it widened into natural plateaus where they could walk side by side, catching their breath and taking in the spectacular vistas.

  "How much farther to the mine?" Mike asked as they paused at midday to rest and eat. From their elevated position, they could see the rolling foothills they'd traversed the previous day, and beyond them, the distant smudge on the horizon that was Crafter's Haven.

  Morin consulted a weathered map he'd produced from an inner pocket of his leather jerkin. "We're making good time. Should reach the main entrance by nightfall, assuming no major delays." He traced a gnarled finger along the path ahead. "There's one more major pass to navigate, then the trail follows an old riverbed up to the mine workings."

  Mike nodded, chewing thoughtfully on a strip of dried meat. His Tactical Positioning skill had been active intermittently throughout the morning, highlighting potential danger zones and suggesting optimal routes. So far, they'd encountered nothing more threatening than a flock of six-winged mountain birds that scattered at their approach.

  "You mentioned your father tried to use the Forge Hammer against a Zengrid warlock," Mike said after a while. "I'm guessing there's more to these Crafter tools than just opening chests."

  Morin's expression darkened slightly, but he nodded. "Aye. The tools were weapons as well as crafting implements. Each harnessed a different aspect of the Crafter's power. Your wood hammer allows you to shape materials with unprecedented precision, but can also shatter structures with targeted strikes."

  "I noticed something like that when I fought the Void Ripper," Mike admitted. "The hammer seemed to know where to hit for maximum effect."

  "Tool intelligence, the old texts call it," Morin confirmed. "The Forge Hammer, when whole, could not only shape metal with unmatched skill but could also unmake crafted objects—even magical ones. That's why my father thought it might work against Zengrid sorcery."

  "And it did," Mike guessed, "but not well enough without the ring."

  "Exactly. The tool and ring are meant to work as a pair, enhancing and controlling each other's power. One without the other is like..." he searched for an analogy, "like a bow without arrows, or arrows without a bow. Still dangerous in the right hands, but far from their true potential."

  They resumed their journey after the brief rest, the conversation shifting to more immediate concerns—potential dangers ahead, the best approach to the mine entrance, plans for extracting the star-forged iron once they found it. Morin explained that the material wasn't like ordinary iron ore; it had fallen from the sky in a great meteor shower centuries before the Crafters' time, and they had simply discovered and utilized what nature had provided.

  "Star-forged iron can't be melted in normal forges," the dwarf explained. "It requires special conditions. Fortunately, we don't need to smelt it—just find processed pieces suitable for repairing the hammer handle."

  As the afternoon progressed, clouds began to gather over the highest peaks, suggesting the possibility of mountain weather moving in. Their pace quickened by unspoken agreement—neither wishing to be caught in a storm on exposed mountainsides.

  They reached the final pass just as the first droplets of rain began to fall—a narrow defile between towering rock walls that appeared to have been partially excavated to create a level path. The worked stone bore traces of tool marks that even Mike's experienced eye could tell were ancient.

  "Crafter handiwork?" he asked, running his fingers along a particularly precise cut in the rock face.

  "Older," Morin replied, a note of pride in his voice. "Dwarven road-builders, from the Second Migration era. My ancestors helped create these paths long before humans walked these mountains."

  The rain increased as they hurried through the pass, turning from scattered drops to a steady shower that threatened to make the stone path treacherously slippery. Thunder rumbled in the distance, echoing between the peaks in ominous percussion.

  "Not far now," Morin assured, raising his voice against the growing wind. "The mine entrance is in that cliff face ahead—see where the path widens?"

  Mike peered through the curtain of rain, his vision enhanced by his system-granted abilities, and made out what appeared to be an artificial plateau carved into the mountainside perhaps half a mile ahead. Even at this distance, he could tell it was an impressive feat of engineering—a level area large enough to accommodate significant operations, with what looked like a massive doorway cut directly into the cliff.

  "I see it," he confirmed. "Looks like we'll make it before the worst of the storm hits."

  No sooner had the words left his mouth than a flash of lightning illuminated the entire landscape in stark white light, followed almost immediately by a tremendous crack of thunder that seemed to shake the very mountain beneath their feet. The rain intensified dramatically, becoming a driving downpour that reduced visibility to mere yards.

  "Spoke too soon!" Mike shouted over the storm's fury. "Let's move!"

  They pressed forward, fighting against wind and rain that seemed determined to push them back. The path, thankfully still visible despite the torrent, began to widen as they approached the mine plateau. As they drew closer, details of the entrance became clearer—massive doors of some dark metal, easily twenty feet high, set into an intricately carved stone archway that had weathered the centuries remarkably well.

  The doors stood partially open, offering immediate shelter from the storm. Without hesitation, Mike and Morin darted inside, the abrupt absence of wind and rain creating an almost disorienting sense of calm. They stood in a short entrance tunnel, water dripping from their soaked clothing to form puddles on the stone floor.

  "Made it," Morin grunted, shaking water from his beard like a dog after a swim. "Good timing too. Mountain storms can last for days this time of year."

  Mike was already surveying their surroundings, his Tactical Positioning skill automatically cataloging defensive features and potential hazards. The entrance tunnel extended about thirty feet before opening into what appeared to be a much larger chamber beyond. Sconces lined the walls at regular intervals, long empty of whatever illumination they once held.

  "I don't suppose you brought a torch?" Mike asked, realizing his pack's contents would be too wet to easily light.

  In response, Morin reached into his pack and produced a small crystal similar to the attunement crystal Nott had given Mike, though this one was amber rather than blue. "Better than a torch," the dwarf said with a grin. "Dwarven lightstone. Never burns out, never needs fuel."

  He touched what appeared to be a pressure point on the crystal's surface, and it immediately began to glow with a warm, golden light that illuminated the tunnel far more effectively than any torch could have. The light revealed intricate carvings along the walls—geometric patterns interspersed with what Mike now recognized as dwarven runes.

  "Makes our exploration easier," Mike observed gratefully. "Can you read these markings? Might tell us where to find what we need."

  Morin studied the nearest section of wall, tracing the runes with his fingers. "These are ancient mining records—inventories, extraction dates, crew assignments. Nothing immediately useful, but they confirm this was indeed a star-forged iron operation."

  They proceeded cautiously into the main chamber, Morin's lightstone revealing a vast cavern that had been expanded and reinforced through expert stonework. Massive pillars, clearly carved from the living rock, supported a ceiling that soared at least fifty feet overhead. Rail tracks embedded in the floor led off in multiple directions toward tunnel entrances around the chamber's perimeter.

  "Primary distribution hub," Morin explained, his voice filled with professional appreciation. "Each tunnel would have led to a different section of the mine, following various veins of material."

  Mike's Tactical Positioning skill highlighted the most defensible positions within the chamber, as well as optimal routes to each tunnel entrance. But it also drew his attention to something else—subtle signs of recent activity that seemed out of place in the otherwise abandoned facility.

  "Someone's been here," Mike said quietly, pointing to scuff marks on the dusty floor near one of the tunnels. "Recently."

  Morin's expression grew instantly more alert, his hand moving to the axe at his belt. "Zengrids?"

  "Maybe. Or scavengers, or wild creatures seeking shelter." Mike moved closer to examine the marks. "Multiple individuals, varying sizes based on the tracks. Some heavier than others."

  They followed the trail across the chamber toward one particular tunnel entrance on the eastern side. Unlike the others, this one showed signs of relatively recent excavation—sections of the walls freshly cut, support beams made from wood that appeared decades rather than centuries old.

  "This tunnel wasn't part of the original mine," Morin observed. "Someone dug it later, connecting to the main complex."

  "And they're still using it," Mike added, noting fresher tracks leading into the darkness beyond. "Recently."

  A notification appeared in Mike's vision:

  ```

  [DANGER DETECTED: Hostile Presence]

  Multiple entities detected within 100 meters. Exercise caution.

  ```

  He relayed the warning to Morin, who immediately dimmed his lightstone to a bare glow, just enough to prevent them from stumbling in the dark. They crept forward, weapons ready, moving with the careful silence of experienced hunters.

  The tunnel extended perhaps fifty yards before making a sharp turn. As they approached the bend, sounds became audible—metallic clanking, the creak of machinery, and voices. The language was unfamiliar to Mike, but from Morin's expression of disgust, the dwarf recognized it.

  "Zengrid dialect," he whispered, barely audible. "Work crew by the sound of it, not warriors. Still dangerous though."

  Mike nodded, then gestured for them to retreat a short distance. Once safely out of earshot, he spoke in a low voice. "We need to know what they're doing here. Could be connected to the star-forged iron we're looking for."

  "Agreed. Reconnaissance first." Morin stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I can understand their speech if we get close enough. You have better combat training and that positioning skill. You cover me while I listen?"

  "Good plan," Mike confirmed. "Let's move up slowly, find a position where you can hear but we remain undetected."

  They retraced their steps toward the bend, now moving with even greater caution. Mike's Tactical Positioning skill highlighted a small alcove just before the turn that would offer concealment while still allowing sound to reach them. They slipped into this space, Morin extinguishing his lightstone completely, plunging them into darkness that was broken only by a faint glow emanating from beyond the bend.

  Minutes passed as they listened to the activity around the corner. Mike could make out the sounds of excavation—picks striking stone, shovels scraping, the occasional grunt of exertion—and the ongoing conversation in the harsh, clicking language of the Zengrids. Morin's expression grew increasingly grave as he listened, his eyes narrowing with concern.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Morin tugged at Mike's sleeve, signaling they should retreat again. Once safely back toward the main chamber, the dwarf reactivated his lightstone at its dimmest setting.

  "It's worse than I feared," he said grimly. "They're extracting star-forged iron, just as we intended. But they're not just gathering it—they're using it to construct something called a 'Ki Amplifier.' From what I could gather, it's meant to strengthen the portal connection between their world and ours."

  Mike felt a chill that had nothing to do with his damp clothing. "That fits with what you told me about their master portal plan. Any idea of their numbers? The extent of the operation?"

  Morin's expression darkened further. "It's no simple expedition, Mike. I heard references to dozens of workers operating in three shifts around the clock. What we're hearing is just one team in one section. The operation extends deep into the mountain—they've reopened old dwarven tunnels and dug new ones."

  "And the star-forged iron?" Mike asked, his mind already calculating the implications of a full-scale mining operation.

  "They're finding it, extracting it, and processing it right here. According to what I overheard, they've been shipping refined material to a construction site elsewhere for months now." Morin's voice dropped even lower. "And they mentioned supervisors—Zengrid warlocks who oversee the operation and report directly to Rong himself."

  Mike absorbed this information, his expression grim. "This complicates things. We need that star-forged iron to repair your hammer, but we're talking about infiltrating a major Zengrid operation, not just slipping into an abandoned mine."

  "Aye," Morin agreed. "And worse, the material we need isn't just lying around. It'll be in their secured processing areas, deep within the complex."

  A series of new sounds from the tunnel entrance behind them interrupted their conversation—voices approaching from outside, the heavy tread of multiple individuals. Mike and Morin barely had time to duck behind a massive stone pillar before a group of Zengrids entered the main chamber from the entrance tunnel.

  These were clearly a different group than the workers they'd heard deeper in the mine. Dressed in weatherproof gear still dripping from the storm outside, they appeared to be a supply team bringing provisions and equipment. Eight Zengrids of varying sizes, led by a taller figure with more elaborate clothing who barked orders in that harsh, clicking language.

  "Shift change," Morin breathed, almost inaudible. "Fresh workers arriving for the night rotation."

  Mike's Tactical Positioning skill activated automatically, tracking the movements of the newcomers and predicting their likely paths through the chamber. The skill highlighted a shadowed recess behind a pile of ancient mining equipment that would allow them to remain hidden while observing.

  With careful, synchronized movements, Mike and Morin slipped behind the equipment just as the incoming Zengrids passed their previous hiding spot. From this new vantage, they watched as another group emerged from a different tunnel—workers completing their shift, tools shouldered, clothing stained with stone dust and sweat.

  The two groups met in the center of the chamber, exchanging brief communications before the outgoing shift headed toward the entrance tunnel and the newcomers dispersed toward different passages leading deeper into the mine. Mike counted a total of twenty-two Zengrids in the exchange—eight arriving, fourteen departing.

  "That's still just a fraction of their total force if they're running three shifts," Mike whispered once the chamber had cleared.

  Morin nodded grimly. "And these are just the regular workers. The warlock supervisors will be deeper in, overseeing the critical operations."

  As the sound of the departing workers faded, Mike and Morin remained in their hiding place, considering their options. The situation was far more complex than they had anticipated. A facility operating around the clock, with dozens of workers across multiple shifts, and Zengrid warlocks in positions of authority, presented a formidable challenge to their simple retrieval mission.

  "We need a new plan," Mike said finally. "The direct approach is out of the question."

  "Agreed. But we can't leave without the star-forged iron, and..." Morin's expression hardened, "now that we know what they're building, we have even more reason to disrupt their operation."

  Mike's mind worked through the problem methodically, the way he would approach a complex construction challenge. "First, we need better intelligence. Layout of the mine, locations of guard posts, where they're processing and storing the star-forged iron, shift patterns."

  "And we need a distraction," Morin added. "Something big enough to draw attention away from wherever the processed iron is stored."

  "Trolley's enhanced boom sap charges," Mike suggested, patting his pack where the explosives were carefully stored. "Not just as a distraction—they could collapse key tunnels, cripple the entire operation."

  Morin's eyes gleamed with approval beneath his bushy eyebrows. "Ambitious. I like it."

  A distant rumble of thunder penetrated even this deep into the mountain, reminding them of the storm raging outside. "The weather works in our favor," Mike observed. "They'll be focused on keeping the mine dry and operational, not looking for intruders."

  "So we infiltrate deeper, map the complex, locate the star-forged iron, set charges at strategic points, then make our escape during the chaos," Morin summarized.

  "It's risky," Mike admitted. "A lot could go wrong."

  "Everything worth doing involves risk," the dwarf replied with a shrug. "And the potential reward just grew considerably. Not only repairing my hammer, but striking a meaningful blow against the Zengrid Empire's plans."

  Mike nodded, decision made. "Then let's get started with reconnaissance. The fresh shift has dispersed to their work areas—now's our chance to move deeper while there's less traffic in the main tunnels."

  They emerged from their hiding place, Morin's lightstone once again dimmed to its lowest setting. With Mike's Tactical Positioning skill guiding their movements, they chose a different tunnel than the one they'd investigated earlier—reasoning that following the path taken by several of the new shift workers might lead them toward important areas of the operation.

  The tunnel they selected sloped gently downward, its ancient dwarven craftsmanship still evident in the precisely cut walls despite recent modifications. Metal rails ran along the floor, suggesting this had been a main transportation route during the mine's original operation. Now, wheeled carts of more recent manufacture sat at intervals along the track, some empty, others laden with raw ore waiting to be processed.

  As they moved deeper, Mike's notification system pinged softly:

  ```

  [QUEST UPDATE: The Crafter's Legacy]

  Objective Modification: Retrieve star-forged iron AND disrupt Zengrid Ki Amplifier operation

  Difficulty: Significantly Increased

  Reward: Unchanged

  ```

  "The system recognizes we've expanded our mission," Mike whispered to Morin.

  The dwarf nodded grimly. "Let's make sure we live to collect that reward."

  The tunnel continued to descend, occasionally branching into smaller passages that showed varying levels of recent activity. Mike and Morin remained on the main route, reasoning that the most important operations would be connected to the primary transportation artery.

  Their progress was slow, often interrupted by the need to duck into side passages or alcoves to avoid Zengrid workers moving through the tunnels. Mike's growing Tactical Positioning skill proved invaluable, warning them of approaching individuals before they came into view and suggesting optimal hiding spots.

  After nearly an hour of careful advancement, they reached a junction where the main tunnel split into three separate passages. Unlike the rough-hewn extensions they'd seen earlier, these retained the original dwarven architecture—wide, arched ceilings supported by decorative columns, the walls bearing the distinctive geometric patterns of ancient dwarven mine design.

  Each branch was active with Zengrid operations. From the leftmost tunnel came the rhythmic clanging of picks against stone and the rumble of ore carts being moved. The center passage glowed with what appeared to be forge light, accompanied by the hiss of water on hot metal and harsh commands in the Zengrid language. From the right came mechanical sounds—the whir of gears, the clank of machinery, and the distinctive crackle of energy that Mike had come to associate with Zengrid technology.

  "Processing would be center or right," Morin whispered. "The left sounds like raw extraction."

  Mike nodded, his Tactical Positioning skill already highlighting potential approach routes to each tunnel. "Center first? The forge area might be where they're working with the processed star-forged iron."

  Before Morin could reply, a new sound became audible—the tramp of disciplined feet approaching from behind them. Mike's skill flashed an urgent warning, identifying no viable hiding places in the immediate junction area.

  "Quick, down the left passage," Mike urged, pulling Morin toward the extraction tunnel. "We need distance from that junction."

  They hurried into the left tunnel, searching desperately for concealment as the approaching footsteps grew louder. Just inside the tunnel entrance, Mike spotted a large ore cart parked against the wall, empty but large enough to potentially hide them both.

  "In here," he hissed, helping Morin climb into the cart before following himself. They pressed their bodies flat against the metal bottom, the cart's high sides concealing them from casual observation.

  Moments later, the approaching group reached the junction. Through a small gap between the cart's side and the tunnel wall, Mike could make out a patrol of six Zengrids—not workers but warriors, armed with those primitive firearms and wearing light armor. They were led by a taller figure whose ornate staff marked them as having some magical authority.

  "Security patrol," Morin breathed, his lips barely moving. "Regular sweeps of the main junctions."

  The patrol paused at the intersection, the leader consulting what appeared to be a schedule or checklist. After a brief discussion, they divided into three pairs, each heading down one of the branching tunnels—including the one where Mike and Morin hid.

  Two Zengrid warriors were now walking directly toward their hiding place, their clawed feet clicking against the stone floor. Mike tensed, preparing for discovery and the fight that would inevitably follow. His hand closed around the hammer at his belt, while beside him, Morin silently drew his axe.

  The Zengrids passed within feet of the ore cart, close enough that Mike could hear their breathing and smell the strange, acrid odor that seemed to accompany their race. They continued down the tunnel without pausing, their attention focused ahead rather than on the supposedly empty cart they'd passed.

  Only when the sound of their footsteps had faded into the distance did Mike allow himself to breathe normally again. "That was close," he murmured. "Too close."

  "And it tells us something important," Morin added. "This operation is more formal and secure than I expected. Regular patrols, organized shifts, proper security protocols. This isn't some hastily established mining camp—it's a major strategic facility."

  Mike nodded grimly. "Which means the star-forged iron will be even more heavily guarded than we thought." He peered cautiously over the edge of the cart, confirming the immediate area was clear. "Let's move. We need to check all three branches if we're going to find what we need."

  They climbed out of the cart and continued down the extraction tunnel, reasoning that following the security patrol would be safer than risking an encounter by doubling back. The passage widened as they progressed, opening into a massive cavern where the original dwarven mining operation had been expanded and intensified under Zengrid management.

  The scale took Mike's breath away. Dozens of Zengrids worked in teams throughout the vast space, attacking the rock walls with picks and shovels, loading ore into carts, operating primitive drilling machines that sent clouds of stone dust into the air. The cavern was lit by a combination of phosphorescent crystals embedded in the walls and what appeared to be electrical lighting powered by humming generators.

  "Look at the extent of this," Morin whispered, genuine distress in his voice. "They've extracted more star-forged iron in months than my ancestors did in decades. They're stripping the mountain bare."

  Mike was already scanning the cavern with his Tactical Positioning skill, identifying worker patterns, security positions, and potential routes for them to traverse the space undetected. The skill highlighted a service passage that ran along the upper level of the cavern—a narrow walkway that appeared to be used primarily for maintenance of the lighting systems.

  "Up there," he pointed discreetly. "That balcony track would take us across to the far exit without exposing us to the main floor."

  Morin nodded, relief evident on his face at not having to traverse the crowded work area. "How do we reach it?"

  Mike's skill had already plotted the route. "Support column to our left has maintenance rungs embedded in the back side. Climbs directly to the walkway. If we time it right, we can make it while the nearest workers are focused on that drilling operation."

  They waited for the optimal moment, then moved quickly to the column Mike had indicated. The maintenance rungs were spaced for smaller Zengrid workers, making the climb awkward for Mike's larger frame, but he managed it with the practiced agility of a career construction worker. Morin followed with the natural climbing ability common to his race.

  The service walkway provided a perfect vantage point for observing the entire extraction operation while remaining relatively inconspicuous. Hugging the shadows where lighting was sparse, they made their way across the cavern, stopping occasionally when workers looked up or security personnel passed below.

  "This is their primary extraction point," Morin observed as they moved. "But they'll be processing the ore elsewhere. We need to find where they're refining and forming the star-forged iron."

  "Center tunnel next, then," Mike confirmed as they approached the exit on the cavern's far side. "That's where we heard the forge sounds."

  The service walkway continued beyond the extraction cavern, following what appeared to be a ventilation shaft that connected to the central tunnel they'd identified earlier. Moving with increased confidence now that they were above the main work areas, Mike and Morin made good progress, the sounds of metalworking growing louder as they approached.

  The shaft eventually opened onto a small observation platform overlooking another large chamber—this one clearly devoted to the processing of the raw ore. Unlike the extraction cavern with its dozens of workers, this room contained fewer Zengrids but more elaborate equipment. Specialized forges lined the walls, their fires burning with unusual colors that suggested alchemical additives. Workers moved between stations with practiced efficiency, transforming raw chunks of star-forged iron into refined ingots and precisely shaped components.

  "There," Morin whispered, pointing to a section at the far end of the chamber. "Those rods being removed from the cooling troughs—that's exactly what we need for the hammer repair."

  Mike studied the area Morin indicated. Several Zengrids were indeed pulling long, slender rods of processed star-forged iron from liquid-filled channels, inspecting them carefully before placing the approved pieces on racks for further cooling.

  "Heavy security," Mike noted, counting at least four armed guards positioned around the chamber, plus what appeared to be a supervisor with a staff similar to the patrol leader they'd seen earlier. "And no convenient path from here to there."

  Morin's expression grew thoughtful. "We need a closer look at their storage system. The finished pieces must be kept somewhere before shipping."

  They continued their observation for nearly an hour, studying the workflow of the processing chamber. The refined star-forged iron, once approved, was moved from the cooling racks to a secured area at the far corner of the room—a caged enclosure with a heavy door and what appeared to be a locking mechanism.

  "That's where they're storing the processed material," Mike concluded. "But getting in there undetected..." He shook his head. "I don't see a clean approach."

  "We may need that distraction sooner rather than later," Morin suggested. "Something to draw them away from the processing area long enough for one of us to slip in."

  Mike considered this, weighing options against risks. "Let's check the third tunnel first—the mechanical sounds we heard. Might give us a better idea of the entire operation before we commit to anything."

  They retreated from the observation platform and continued along the service walkway, following its winding path as it curved toward the rightmost tunnel. The mechanical sounds grew louder—whirring gears, hissing steam, and that unsettling crackle of Zengrid energy technology.

  The walkway ended at another small platform, this one overlooking the most elaborate chamber yet. Unlike the extraction and processing areas, which despite their scale were recognizable mining operations, this space contained machinery unlike anything Mike had seen before. Towering metal constructs hummed with energy, crystal arrays pulsed with rhythmic light, and in the center, a partially assembled device that could only be the Ki Amplifier they'd heard mentioned.

  "By the ancient forges," Morin breathed, his voice barely audible. "Look at the size of it."

  The device was massive—a complexity of metal frameworks, crystal focusing arrays, and components that seemed to shift between solid and energy states. Even partially constructed, it radiated a palpable sense of power that made the air around it shimmer with distortion.

  Most importantly, from their perspective, it was clearly being constructed primarily of star-forged iron. The distinctive blue-silver sheen was visible on every major structural component, confirming that the material they sought was integral to the amplifier's design.

  What truly concerned Mike, however, was the increased security presence in this chamber. Not just armed guards, but what appeared to be full Zengrid warlocks—three of them, distinguishable by their elaborate robes and staffs crackling with energy. They moved among the workers, inspecting components, adjusting crystal alignments, and occasionally demonstrating techniques that involved direct manipulation of energy fields.

  "This is a major operation," Mike whispered. "Far bigger than we anticipated."

  "All the more reason to disrupt it," Morin replied, his voice hardening. "That device... if they complete it and activate it, the Ki energy flooding into our world will increase tenfold. The corruption will spread faster than ever."

  Mike nodded grimly. "We need to revise our plan. This isn't just about grabbing some metal and leaving. We need to cripple this entire facility."

  As they watched, a new group entered the chamber—a procession of Zengrids escorting what was clearly a figure of significant authority. Taller than the others, with more elaborate robes and a staff topped with a pulsing crystal that cast sickly green light, this Zengrid moved with the confidence of assured power.

  "Sub-Warlock Thazz," Morin breathed, recognizing the figure from descriptions he'd heard. "Rong's direct subordinate in this region. If he's here personally, this amplifier must be even more important than we realized."

  Thazz approached the central device, running three-fingered hands over its components with obvious satisfaction. The other warlocks gathered around him, reporting details that Mike couldn't hear from their position. Whatever they said pleased the Sub-Warlock, his triple-eyed face contorting in what might have been a smile.

  "We need to get back to that processing chamber," Mike decided. "Grab what we need, then plant the charges for maximum damage to the entire operation."

  Morin nodded in agreement. "With Thazz here inspecting progress, security might be focused on making a good impression rather than watching for intruders. It's our best chance."

  They retreated from the observation platform, making their way back along the service walkway toward the central tunnel and the processing chamber. Mike's mind was already calculating explosive placements, identifying key structural points where Trolley's charges would cause maximum disruption.

  The plan was taking shape—precise, methodical, as all his best construction projects had been. But as thunder rumbled overhead, a reminder of the storm still raging outside, Mike couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something important, some variable in this increasingly complex equation.

  He could only hope they would identify it before it identified them.