Dawn flooded through hidden vents in the visitor quarters of the Artificer's Workshop, casting gentle light across the sleeping forms of Mike, Trolley, and Kirgen. Mike woke first, momentarily disoriented by the comfortable surroundings after weeks of makeshift shelters and constant vigilance.

  Trolley was already up, hunched over her detection array at a table that had emerged from the floor during the night. She barely glanced up when Mike stirred.

  "There's food," she said, gesturing vaguely toward a recessed alcove where plates of unfamiliar but appetizing fare had appeared. "Tastes better than it looks."

  Mike joined her, sampling what resembled a fruit pastry. The flavor burst across his tongue, making the Haven's tuna fruits seem bland by comparison. "Any idea what we're facing today?"

  She shrugged, tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Something about authorization trials. My array's picking up massive energy signatures throughout the facility, but can't pinpoint specifics." She looked up finally, the blue tattoos on her neck catching the light. "It's like the place is deliberately hiding things from us."

  Kirgen joined them, scholarly reserve momentarily abandoned as he enthusiastically sampled the food. "The Workshop is testing us from the moment we arrived. Even these accommodations—comfortable but alien—are part of the assessment."

  After eating, they found clothing laid out in a side compartment—fitted garments that seemed to adjust to their bodies as they dressed, providing protection while allowing freedom of movement.

  "Practical," Mike observed, testing the reinforced sections across his shoulders. "Like it knows what we'll need."

  When they finally entered the main hall, Curator awaited them. The construct stood motionless at the center of the vast chamber, its metallic body reflecting the ambient light in subtle patterns.

  "The authorization trials begin now," it announced without preamble. "Success grants access to the Artificer's Tools."

  The floor shifted beneath them, sections retracting to reveal a complex array of machinery rising from below. Ten distinct stations materialized, arranged in a spiral pattern that wound inward toward the center of the chamber.

  Trolley stepped forward immediately, eyes alight with professional curiosity. "I'll take point on this. Technical systems are my specialty."

  Mike nodded, recognizing her expertise. "We'll support where needed."

  The first trial seemed straightforward enough—a mechanical pump system with obvious misalignments. Trolley approached it with confident hands, adjusting gears and reconnecting fluid channels with practiced ease.

  "Hand me that connector?" she asked Mike, not looking up from where her fingers deftly manipulated a set of interlocking gears. "This main drive shaft is completely misaligned."

  Mike passed the requested component, watching as she integrated it into the machine with precise movements. His Structural Analysis skill highlighted stress points in the framework. "The support bracket needs reinforcement here," he noted, pointing to a section where metal had begun to warp under pressure.

  While they worked, Kirgen circled the assembly, studying decorative patterns that Mike had dismissed as merely aesthetic. "These markings indicate operational parameters," he observed. "According to this sequence, the central pump should rotate counterclockwise, not clockwise."

  Trolley immediately adjusted her approach, reversing several connections. "Good catch."

  The machine hummed to life, gears meshing smoothly as fluids began flowing through newly aligned channels.

  "First trial complete," Curator announced. "Proceed."

  The second challenge presented a more complex assembly—a distribution network with multiple branching pathways and regulatory components. Trolley dove into the problem with increasing enthusiasm, her initial professional detachment giving way to genuine enjoyment.

  "This connection matrix is fascinating," she murmured, fingers tracing energy conduits with almost affectionate precision. "The redundancy patterns are unlike anything in Central Province designs."

  Mike found his role shifting to support rather than lead—stabilizing components while Trolley reconfigured connections, reinforcing structures that wobbled under operational stress. Kirgen continued providing crucial insights from historical and theoretical perspectives, identifying patterns that might have otherwise gone unnoticed.

  By the fourth trial, sweat beaded on Trolley's forehead as she manipulated increasingly complex mechanical arrays. What had begun as relatively straightforward repairs had evolved into intricate calibrations requiring simultaneous adjustments to multiple interdependent systems.

  "Hold this gear sequence exactly in this position," she instructed Mike, passing him a partially assembled component while she worked on its counterpart. "It needs to engage precisely when the primary drive activates."

  Mike positioned himself as directed, his enhanced strength proving useful in maintaining the awkward stance. "How's it looking?"

  "Almost..." Trolley muttered, making microscopic adjustments to timing mechanisms. "There!"

  The system engaged with a satisfying series of clicks as dozens of gears meshed in perfect sequence, driving pistons that powered pneumatic channels throughout the assembly.

  "Fourth trial complete," Curator announced.

  As they progressed through subsequent challenges, the difficulty increased exponentially. The fifth trial required them to rebuild an engine with half its components missing. The sixth demanded they redirect energy through failing conduits while maintaining system integrity. By the seventh, they were synchronizing multiple independent subsystems into a unified operational matrix.

  Trolley remained in her element, each challenge seeming to energize rather than exhaust her. Where Mike saw overwhelming complexity, she perceived patterns and relationships—her hands moving with increasing confidence through mechanical labyrinths that would have baffled master engineers.

  "You're enjoying this," he observed during a brief respite between the seventh and eighth trials.

  She looked almost embarrassed. "In the Central Provinces, my work was always constrained—build only what's approved, modify only what's permitted. This..." she gestured toward the completed trials behind them, "this is pure creation. Problem-solving without artificial limitations."

  "Except for the limitation of potentially dying if we fail," Kirgen added dryly.

  The eighth trial nearly broke them. What appeared to be a straightforward mechanical assembly revealed itself as a deliberate paradox—a system designed to fail regardless of configuration.

  After three frustrated attempts, Trolley sat back on her heels, pushing sweat-dampened hair from her forehead. "It's impossible. The primary drive creates feedback that inevitably overloads the regulatory systems."

  "Then we change the parameters," Mike suggested, studying the framework with his builder's eye. "Look at the mounting platform—it's not fixed. What if we reconfigure the entire assembly rather than accepting the current arrangement?"

  Trolley's eyes widened. "That shouldn't be..." She paused, a slow smile spreading across her face. "Of course. The Artificer would never give us a truly impossible challenge. Just one that requires thinking beyond conventional constraints."

  Together they demolished the existing configuration, rebuilding it from first principles with the components arranged in a pattern that eliminated the destructive feedback loop. When the system finally engaged, operating in smooth harmony despite its initially paradoxical design, even Curator seemed impressed.

  "Eighth trial complete. Creative parameter redefinition accepted."

  The ninth challenge pushed them to physical limits—a massive mechanical clock with hundreds of interlocking components, each requiring precise calibration in relation to all others. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm them as hours stretched on, Trolley's hands eventually shaking from fatigue.

  "Here," Mike said, stepping closer to steady her wrist as she attempted a particularly delicate adjustment. "Let me help."

  For a moment she seemed ready to refuse, her independent nature bristling at the implied weakness. Then she nodded gratefully, allowing him to support her arm while she completed the calibration sequence. "Thanks. Almost there."

  Kirgen contributed his own support, deciphering timing sequences from markings along the frame that guided their final adjustments. When the massive clock finally began ticking with perfect harmony, all three sagged with relief.

  "Ninth trial complete."

  ---

  Back at Crafter's Haven, Morin emerged from his forge, wiping sweat from his brow with a cloth that had once been white but now bore permanent smudges of soot and metal dust. The Smith's Ring pulsed on his finger as he surveyed the transformation taking place around him.

  Where once scattered ruins had stood in partial disrepair, coordinated activity now filled every corridor and chamber. Workers moved with purpose, following plans laid out before Mike's departure. The eastern wall, previously little more than stacked stone reinforced by hasty repairs, now featured regular buttresses and the beginnings of defensive platforms.

  "The southern section needs additional support beams," Morin called to a group hauling timber toward the outer wall. "Use the spiral-grained oak we salvaged from the abandoned mill."

  As he crossed the central courtyard, a crystalline chime sounded from his belt pouch—the communication device Trolley had modified before departing. He retrieved it quickly, holding the smooth crystal to his ear.

  "This is Morin."

  Static crackled briefly before resolving into a voice. "Crafter's Haven, this is Rhella of the Eastern Resistance. We received your signal two days ago and have traveled without rest. Requesting permission to approach."

  The dwarf's bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise. Dren's outreach efforts had borne fruit faster than anticipated. He gestured urgently to Nott, who stood atop the eastern watchtower with bow in hand.

  "Eastern approach," he called up. "Potential allies responding to Dren's communication. Be ready, but hold fire unless absolutely necessary."

  Nott nodded, his keen elven eyes already scanning the horizon. "Movement visible approximately half a mile out," he reported. "Group of... seventeen individuals. Mixed party—humans mostly, at least two dwarves, possibly one elf though distance makes confirmation difficult."

  Morin pressed the crystal to his ear again. "Rhella, this is Morin Stonehammer of Crafter's Haven. Approach with weapons sheathed along the eastern path. Follow the blue markers we've placed. Deviate from that path at your peril—the surrounding areas are heavily trapped."

  "Understood," the voice replied. "Eastern path, blue markers, weapons sheathed. We come in peace and common purpose."

  Morin tucked the crystal away, his mind already calculating how to integrate new arrivals into their defensive preparations. Seventeen skilled individuals could make significant difference in their race against time.

  "Dren!" he called, spotting the former refugee emerging from the underground storage chambers. "Your communication efforts have yielded results. Eastern Resistance approaches—seventeen strong."

  Dren's face brightened with genuine hope. "Rhella made it through! We were comrades in the mining camps before the Zengrids separated us during transport. She's an engineer with expertise in defensive systems."

  "Perfect timing," Morin replied. "With Mike and Trolley at the Workshop and Kirgen scouting the southern territories, we need every skilled hand available." He gestured toward the approaching group now visible on the horizon. "Prepare the welcome protocols we discussed. Full briefing in the central chamber once they've been properly vetted."

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  Dren hurried to gather the necessary supplies—water, basic provisions, and identification markers that would distinguish newcomers from established defenders during the integration period. His movements showed newfound confidence, the hesitant refugee transformed into capable coordinator through purpose and responsibility.

  At the eastern gate, Nott descended from his watch position as the newcomers approached. The elf's natural caution remained evident in his posture, but hope had kindled in his eyes as well. Each addition to their ranks improved the odds against the approaching Imperial forces.

  "Seventeen," he confirmed to Morin. "Eleven humans, three dwarves, two elves, and one I can't quite place—possibly mixed heritage. All showing signs of difficult journey—worn equipment, minimal supplies, defensive formations suggesting experience with hostile territories."

  The gates swung open as the group reached the final approach. At their head walked a tall woman with close-cropped gray hair and the muscular build of someone accustomed to physical labor. Multiple scars crossed her exposed forearms, telling stories of survival more eloquently than words ever could.

  "Crafter's Haven," she said, stopping at a respectful distance. "I am Rhella, formerly chief engineer of Eastern Ridge Mining Collective, now coordinator of Eastern Resistance Cell Three. We received your communication and came without delay."

  Morin stepped forward, the Smith's Ring clearly visible on his hand. "Morin Stonehammer, acting commander during the Builder's absence. Welcome to Haven."

  Rhella's eyes widened slightly at the ring, recognition flashing across her weathered features. "The legends speak truth, then. The rings are being reclaimed."

  "Two active so far," Morin confirmed. "Woodworking and Smith's disciplines. Our companions seek the Artificer's tools now."

  This simple exchange established more than mere identification—it confirmed shared knowledge of their world's history and common purpose against corruption's spread. Rhella turned to her companions, gesturing them forward for introductions.

  "My core team," she explained. "Verik and Sorn, mining engineers with explosive expertise." She indicated two stocky humans whose clothes still bore the distinctive red earth of the eastern quarries. "Thulden, Barrick, and Lorka, Smith's apprentices from the mountain forges." Three dwarves nodded respectfully, their beards braided in the distinctive patterns of the eastern clans.

  The introductions continued—former soldiers, displaced craftspeople, a healer with knowledge of corruption treatment, two elven scouts from borders territories. Each represented skills Haven desperately needed, experience forged through survival in increasingly hostile world.

  "And finally," Rhella said, gesturing to a slender individual whose features suggested mixed heritage, "Lirienne, former Imperial translator who defected when she discovered the Zengrids' true intentions for captured territories."

  Morin's eyebrows rose at this last introduction. Imperial defectors were rare—the Zengrids typically ensured loyalty through methods that left little room for change of heart. This Lirienne potentially brought valuable intelligence from within enemy operations.

  "Haven welcomes you all," he said formally. "Dren will oversee integration procedures—identification markers, quarters assignment, skill assessment for appropriate task allocation. Full briefing on our situation once these preliminaries are complete."

  As Dren led the newcomers toward the processing area, Morin turned to Nott with lowered voice. "Double security protocols for the first forty-eight hours. Especially around the Imperial defector."

  Nott nodded understanding. "Already arranged. Observation rotations in place, restricted access to sensitive areas until verification complete. Standard procedure."

  "Nothing standard about our current circumstances," Morin replied grimly. "But caution remains prudent regardless."

  ---

  Within the Workshop, the tenth and final trial defied easy description—a mechanical system of such complexity that it seemed alive, components shifting and reconfiguring even as they attempted to understand its basic structure.

  "It's responding to us," Trolley whispered, watching gears reorganize themselves after her initial inspection. "Learning from our approaches and adapting to prevent easy solutions."

  Mike had never seen her so challenged—or so alive. The technical puzzles that had occupied much of her life seemed to have been preparing her specifically for this moment. Where others might have seen an impossible task, she perceived patterns within chaos, relationships between seemingly disparate components.

  For over an hour, Trolley observed without touching, simply watching the system's behavior while her detection array gathered data. When she finally began engaging with the mechanical components, her movements possessed an almost intuitive quality—anticipating changes before they occurred, adapting her approach to match the system's evolving patterns.

  ---

  In Haven's central chamber, Morin addressed the assembled newcomers. They had been fed, given temporary quarters, and now sat in concentric circles around the map table that displayed their current situation with stark clarity.

  "The Imperial forces approach from the southeast," he explained, indicating the pulsing red markers that represented confirmed Zengrid positions. "Main army approximately twenty days out, but advance scouts already operating within five days' journey of our position."

  Rhella studied the map with professional assessment, her engineer's eye identifying key terrain features and defensive considerations. "The southern approach offers natural bottleneck here," she observed, pointing to a narrow valley passage. "Proper preparation could turn that into significant advantage."

  "Precisely why we've focused initial fortification efforts on the eastern and western approaches," Morin confirmed. "The southern bottleneck requires specialized attention from those with proper expertise."

  "My team can handle that," Rhella offered immediately. "Verik and Sorn's explosive knowledge combined with proper structural understanding could transform that valley into killing floor."

  Morin nodded approval. "Materials available in eastern storage chambers. Work can begin immediately after this briefing."

  "What about the northern perimeter?" asked Thulden, the eldest of the dwarven smiths. His thick fingers traced the map's representation of Haven's northern boundary. "Mountain approach shows vulnerability to flanking maneuvers."

  "Currently addressed through trapping networks rather than physical barriers," Nott explained. "The terrain itself provides primary defense, but Zengrid corruption units could potentially navigate passages standard forces would find impassable."

  Discussion continued as each section of Haven's defenses received scrutiny from fresh perspectives. The newcomers offered suggestions based on their various experiences, while Morin and Nott provided context regarding resources available and work already completed. Throughout, Dren coordinated, taking notes and organizing implementation priorities with efficiency that would have been unimaginable during his early days as frightened refugee.

  "The Builder's structural foundations are sound," Rhella concluded after comprehensive review. "With proper reinforcement and specialized additions, this Haven could become genuine fortress capable of withstanding significant assault."

  "Which is precisely our intention," Morin replied. "Though time remains our greatest constraint. Twenty days until main Imperial force arrives—twenty days to transform ancient ruins into defensible position."

  As the briefing concluded, newcomers departed with assigned tasks and integration groups. Morin remained at the map table with Nott and Dren, their expressions reflecting cautious optimism tempered by realistic assessment.

  "Seventeen skilled individuals," Nott observed. "Significant addition to our capabilities."

  "Especially the mining engineers," Dren added. "Their explosive expertise substantially enhances our trap networks and demolition capabilities."

  Morin stroked his beard thoughtfully. "The Imperial defector troubles me. Lirienne's knowledge could prove invaluable if genuine, catastrophic if compromised."

  "Already addressed," Nott assured him. "She's been assigned quarters in the eastern section where our monitoring capabilities are strongest. Observation team in place, communication restricted to approved channels."

  "Good." Morin studied the map once more, his fingers unconsciously touching the Smith's Ring. "We proceed as planned. Fortifications continue according to the Builder's design, enhanced by new expertise where appropriate. When Mike and Trolley return with the Artificer's tools, we'll integrate that discipline into our defensive configuration."

  "If they return," Dren said softly, voicing the concern none wished to acknowledge directly.

  "When," Morin corrected firmly. "They'll succeed. The Builder has overcome every challenge this world has thrown at him since his arrival. This will be no different."

  ---

  In the Workshop's central chamber, the final trial component hummed with perfect synchronization, its previously chaotic movements now operating in flawless harmony. Trolley stood before it, exhaustion evident in her posture yet satisfaction gleaming in her eyes. Mike and Kirgen flanked her, their contributions having supported her primary expertise throughout the grueling challenge.

  "All trials complete," Curator announced. "Authorization phase one confirmed."

  "Phase one?" Mike couldn't keep the disbelief from his voice. "There's more?"

  "The trials assess technical capability," Curator explained. "The Proving determines worthiness through direct challenge. Rest, then return for final verification."

  Trolley sank to the floor, exhaustion finally claiming her now that the immediate challenge was complete. "Tomorrow," she managed, though determination still burned in her eyes despite her fatigue. "We'll face whatever this Proving is tomorrow."

  ---

  Night settled over Crafter's Haven, stars emerging in the clear sky above as defensive preparations continued despite the late hour. Morin stood on the eastern battlements, surveying the transformation taking place below. Torches illuminated work crews implementing designs developed during afternoon planning sessions. The rhythmic sound of hammers and saws created steady background cadence that spoke of purpose rather than panic.

  Rhella joined him on the wall, her expression thoughtful as she studied the defensive integration taking place. "Impressive coordination," she observed. "These aren't random fortifications but systematically designed implementation components. The Builder's work?"

  "Combined with my Smith's reinforcement principles," Morin confirmed. "We've discovered the ancient disciplines work most effectively when integrated rather than implemented independently."

  "The legends suggested as much," Rhella replied. "The seven working in concert achieved what none could accomplish alone."

  They stood in companionable silence, watching as Verik and Sorn directed placement of support beams that would form foundation for new defensive platform. Nearby, Thulden's team had established temporary forge where they crafted reinforcement brackets designed to Morin's specifications.

  "How did you survive?" Morin asked finally, the question direct but not unkind. "The Eastern Ridge was overrun nearly six months ago according to our intelligence."

  Rhella's face tightened momentarily, memories clearly painful despite her controlled exterior. "Underground," she answered simply. "When surface fell, we retreated to abandoned mining networks beneath the ridge. Established hidden community in caverns the Zengrids never found."

  "And maintained resistance operations despite being surrounded," Morin observed with newfound respect.

  "What choice remained?" She gestured toward the bustling activity below. "Surrender meant corruption. Hiding meant slow death as supplies dwindled. Only resistance offered path forward, however narrow."

  The admission created connection between them—shared understanding of choices made when no good options remained. Before either could elaborate further, Nott approached with urgent stride that suggested developments requiring immediate attention.

  "Perimeter sensors detecting anomalous energy signatures," the elf reported. "Eastern quadrant, approximately two miles out. Pattern suggests Imperial scout team with Handler support."

  Morin straightened, fatigue forgotten as tactical necessity claimed priority. "Defensive protocols?"

  "Already implemented," Nott confirmed. "Observation teams deployed to monitoring positions. Perimeter guards doubled at eastern approach points. Haven's visible profile minimized according to established procedures."

  "Good," Morin approved. "Alert Dren to prepare containment teams in case direct engagement becomes necessary. I want options prepared for both evasion and capture scenarios."

  As Nott departed to implement these instructions, Rhella turned to Morin with newfound intensity. "Imperial scout teams don't deploy Handlers without specific purpose. They're probing for something beyond mere territorial assessment."

  "They're probing for us," Morin confirmed grimly. "Or more specifically, for the rings. Every Crafter component we activate increases our energetic footprint—each success making Haven more visible to those seeking precisely what we're gathering."

  "Then we need to accelerate defensive preparations," Rhella concluded. "If they're already sending specialized scouts, the main force timeline might be compressed beyond your current estimates."

  Morin nodded, the Smith's Ring pulsing on his finger as if responding to approaching threat. "Precisely why your arrival proves so timely. Every skilled hand improves our readiness for what approaches."

  Together they descended from the battlements, moving toward the eastern perimeter where threat assessment now required direct attention. Throughout Haven, defenders responded to elevated alert status without panic or confusion—evidence of training protocols implemented during Mike's preparation phase.

  Dren met them at the eastern gate, his expression steady despite the potential crisis developing. "Containment teams assembled," he reported. "Three interception groups positioned along likely approach vectors. Trap networks activated at perimeter boundaries."

  "This isn't full assault," Morin cautioned. "Specialized scout team with Handler support suggests intelligence gathering rather than direct engagement. Our priority remains detection avoidance rather than confrontation."

  "And if avoidance fails?" Rhella asked pragmatically.

  "Then we ensure no intelligence returns to Imperial command," Morin replied, his tone leaving no doubt about what such assurance would require.

  The night deepened around them as Haven's defenders maintained vigilant readiness. The approaching Imperial scouts represented more than merely immediate threat—they confirmed Morin's assessment that their activities had drawn attention from those who understood precisely what reactivation of Crafter disciplines might mean. The race against time had entered new phase where secrecy became as crucial as physical preparation.

  ---

  Within the Workshop's residential quarters, Mike found himself watching Trolley with new appreciation. Her technical brilliance had always been evident, but today had revealed something deeper—a passionate engagement with complex systems that transcended mere professional expertise.

  "You were amazing," he told her as they collapsed onto their respective beds.

  She smiled tiredly. "We all were. Couldn't have done it without your structural insights or Kirgen's pattern recognition."

  "True teamwork," Kirgen agreed, already half-asleep. "The Artificer would approve."

  Mike's last thoughts before sleep claimed him were of Trolley's hands moving across complex machinery with almost loving precision—finding order in chaos, solutions in impossibility. Whatever this "Proving" might entail tomorrow, they faced it not as separate individuals but as a unit forged through shared challenges.

  And somehow, that made all the difference.

  ---

  Morning found Haven already fully active, defenders moving with purpose despite the early hour. The potential Imperial scout incursion had withdrawn before direct contact became necessary, but its presence had accelerated preparation timelines throughout the compound.

  Morin stood in the central chamber, reviewing adjusted implementation schedules with Rhella and Dren. The massive map table displayed Haven's current defensive configuration alongside planned enhancements, timelines adjusted to reflect compressed completion targets.

  "The southern bottleneck fortifications need to be operational within five days rather than eight," Morin instructed, indicating the narrow valley approach. "Rhella, can your team meet that revised deadline?"

  "With additional labor allocation, yes," she confirmed after brief calculation. "Though material requirements remain significant—especially timber for primary support structures."

  "Addressed through eastern forest harvesting operation," Dren explained, indicating the supply line they had established through least-corrupted territories. "Three teams rotating continuous extraction, processing, and transport. First deliveries expected by midday tomorrow."

  Morin nodded approval, his finger moving to western perimeter where secondary defensive line required reinforcement. "Thulden's forge team needs additional consideration. Their metallurgical support components require specific materials not readily available through standard harvesting."

  "Already integrating solution," Dren replied, surprising both Morin and Rhella with his initiative. "Lirienne identified potential source through Imperial intelligence she provided during debriefing. Abandoned supply depot approximately one day's journey northwest contains processed metals suitable for our requirements."

  "Verification?" Morin asked, instinctively cautious regarding information provided by Imperial defector.

  "Triple-confirmed through independent sources," Dren assured him. "Our elven scouts recognize the location from previous resistance operations. Structures match Imperial standard supply configuration. Abandonment timeline aligns with regional redeployment orders Lirienne described."

  "Extraction team?" Rhella inquired, professional assessment already calculating resource requirements against potential gains.

  "Prepared for departure at midday," Dren confirmed. "Four-person specialist unit with appropriate transportation equipment. Thirty-six hour mission parameter if all proceeds without complication."

  Morin studied the former refugee with newfound respect. The frightened individual who had arrived at Haven weeks earlier had transformed through purpose and responsibility into capable coordinator demonstrating initiative beyond mere task completion.

  "Approved," he decided. "Though security protocols remain in effect regarding information provided by Imperial sources. Verification at each implementation stage, independent confirmation channels where possible."

  As their planning session continued, Nott entered with grim expression that suggested developments requiring immediate attention. "Perimeter sensors detecting new energy signatures," he reported. "Multiple positions surrounding Haven at approximately three-mile radius. Pattern suggests coordinated observation network rather than random patrol distribution."

  Morin's expression darkened. "They're establishing triangulation grid," he concluded. "Standard Imperial procedure for fixed target location confirmation."

  "Precisely," Nott confirmed. "Seven distinct positions forming classic Zengrid energy mapping configuration. Handlers present at each location based on signature analysis."

  The implications settled heavily over the gathered leaders. Haven's location had been definitively identified by Imperial forces—not merely suspected or theoretically targeted but now confirmed through standard military procedures that preceded full assault preparations.

  "Tactical assessment?" Morin asked, instinctively reaching for the hammer secured at his belt.

  "Direct engagement inadvisable," Nott replied with characteristic precision. "Their positioning deliberately maintains distance exceeding our safe operation range. Coordinated energy web suggests rapid reinforcement capability should any single observation point be compromised."

  "They're forcing our hand," Rhella observed grimly. "Either reveal capabilities through direct engagement or accept comprehensive targeting data collection."

  "Neither," Morin decided, the Smith's Ring pulsing on his finger as determination crystallized into action. "We implement misinformation protocols immediately. Defensive configurations appearing weaker than actual capabilities, perimeter energy signatures manipulated to suggest reduced Crafter integration, visible activity patterns suggesting scattered resistance rather than coordinated defense."

  Dren nodded understanding, already calculating implementation requirements. "The shadow walls we prepared along eastern approach?"

  "Activate them," Morin confirmed. "Along with reduced power flow through primary visible systems. Make them think we're struggling with integration rather than achieving coordinated disciplinary harmony."

  "Deception rather than confrontation," Rhella approved. "Classic resistance strategy against superior observation capabilities."

  "Precisely," Morin agreed. "Let them see what we want them to see—Haven struggling with basic defensive integration rather than systematically preparing coordinated countermeasures."

  As they dispersed to implement these instructions, Morin found himself unconsciously touching the Smith's Ring while staring at the map's representation of surrounding Imperial positions. The coordinated observation network confirmed their worst fears—Haven's activities had drawn attention from those who understood precisely what Crafter discipline reactivation might mean. The race against time had transformed from mere preparation to strategic deception, buying crucial days through carefully managed misconception.

  "The Builder needs to return quickly," he murmured, fingers tracing defensive configurations that would require Artificer's integration to achieve full effectiveness. "With or without the Configurator, Haven needs his leadership for what approaches."