A mechanical chime echoed through the visitor quarters, jolting Mike awake from a dreamless sleep. He sat up immediately, muscles tensed for action. Unlike the soothing atmosphere of yesterday, there was something deliberately jarring about this awakening—another test, perhaps, beginning before they'd even left their beds.

  "Good morning," came Curator's neutral voice from an unseen speaker. "The Proving commences in thirty minutes. Preparation is advised."

  Trolley was already up, her dark hair damp from the Workshop's cleaning facilities. The blue tattoos spiraling up her neck seemed more vivid against her pale skin, a reminder of her past under Zengrid control.

  "Sleep well?" Mike asked, rolling his shoulders to work out the lingering stiffness from yesterday's trials.

  She gave a short, humorless laugh. "Hardly. Kept dreaming about gears that wouldn't mesh properly." Her fingers traced the blue tattoos—a habit he'd noticed emerged when she was anxious. "What do you think this Proving will involve?"

  Before Mike could answer, Kirgen emerged from the washroom area, his scholarly demeanor restored after yesterday's exhaustion. "Historical accounts suggest the Artificer valued practical application over theoretical understanding," he offered. "His challenges typically involved not just solving problems, but demonstrating how solutions could benefit others."

  "So not just more mechanical puzzles?" Mike asked.

  "I suspect something more... consequential," Kirgen replied carefully.

  Curator arrived precisely as they finished breakfast, the construct's metal body gleaming in the morning light. "The Proving awaits," it announced without preamble. "Follow."

  They exchanged glances but fell in line behind the construct, following it through corridors they hadn't seen before. Unlike the formal grandeur of the main hall, these passages felt more utilitarian—designed for function rather than impression. Occasional niches contained half-assembled mechanisms or displays showing technical schematics that shifted too quickly for Mike to follow.

  "The previous trials assessed technical competence," Curator explained as they walked. "The Proving evaluates character through direct confrontation with consequence."

  "Consequence?" Trolley asked, her voice carefully neutral.

  "Actions have results. Choices affect outcomes. The Artificer believed worthiness emerged through how one faced the impact of decisions."

  The cryptic explanation did nothing to ease Mike's growing tension. His hand unconsciously moved to the hammer at his belt, finding reassurance in its familiar weight.

  They entered a circular chamber fundamentally different from the mechanical testing ground of yesterday. This space resembled an arena, with a sunken central platform surrounded by tiered viewing areas. The walls glowed with embedded lighting elements that cast the entire chamber in a soft blue radiance.

  "Descent required," Curator instructed, indicating a narrow stairway that led to the central platform.

  As they descended, Mike noticed details that heightened his unease. The platform's surface was inscribed with intricate patterns that resembled circuit diagrams more than decorative elements. At regular intervals around its circumference stood mechanical pillars housing what appeared to be defensive systems—currently inactive but unmistakably designed for combat.

  "I don't like this," he muttered to Trolley, who nodded almost imperceptibly, her own eyes cataloging potential threats.

  When they reached the platform's center, Curator remained at the top of the stairs, looking down upon them with its unchanging metallic face. "The Proving begins now," it announced, its voice resonating throughout the chamber. "Defend yourselves."

  The platform beneath their feet illuminated, the circuit-like patterns glowing with increasing intensity. From the surrounding mechanical pillars, a low hum began to build—the unmistakable sound of power systems activating.

  "Spread out!" Mike called, instinctively drawing his hammer. "Triangle formation, back to back!"

  They barely had time to position themselves before the first attack came. A section of the floor retracted, and mechanical constructs emerged—smaller versions of Curator but clearly designed for combat rather than conversation. Their limbs ended in various tools that could serve equally well as weapons, and their movements carried a predatory fluidity that belied their artificial nature.

  "Three o'clock!" Trolley shouted as one construct lunged toward her, its arm reconfiguring into something resembling a blade. She rolled away from the attack, coming up with a small device in her hand that emitted a pulse of energy when activated. The construct stuttered in its advance, its mechanisms temporarily disrupted.

  Mike faced two constructs simultaneously, their coordinated approach suggesting tactical programming rather than simple attack patterns. His hammer moved in defensive arcs, keeping the mechanical assailants at bay while he assessed their weaknesses. His Structural Analysis skill activated automatically, highlighting stress points in their frames where precise strikes might disable rather than merely damage.

  Kirgen, despite his scholarly background, proved surprisingly adept at evasion—ducking and weaving with practiced grace that spoke of formal training. When cornered, he produced a slender blade that flashed with uncanny precision, severing hydraulic lines and control conduits on the nearest construct.

  "Aim for the joint assemblies!" Mike called, putting his observation into practice with a hammerstrike that collapsed a construct's shoulder mechanism. "The metal is thinner there!"

  The battle settled into a rhythm—attack, defense, counterattack—as they adapted to the constructs' patterns. Just as they seemed to gain the upper hand, the chamber shifted configuration. Sections of the floor rose or fell, creating an uneven battlefield that hampered movement and coordination. Additional constructs emerged, these equipped with ranged capabilities that forced the companions to constantly relocate.

  "This isn't just combat," Kirgen observed during a momentary reprieve when they'd managed to regroup behind a raised section of flooring. "It's adaptive testing. The system is learning from our responses."

  "Then we need to show it something unexpected," Trolley responded, reaching into her pack and withdrawing several small devices. "Disruptors," she explained briefly. "Designed to interrupt Zengrid communication systems, but might work on these constructs too."

  Mike nodded, understanding forming a plan. "Kirgen, can you create a distraction? Draw them toward the east side of the chamber? Trolley and I will set up a coordinated response."

  The scholar nodded, slipping away with surprising stealth. Moments later, he appeared atop a raised platform section, deliberately drawing attention with exaggerated movements. As predicted, several constructs immediately oriented toward this new target, advancing with mechanical determination.

  "Now!" Mike signaled to Trolley, who activated her disruptors in a precisely timed sequence. The devices emitted pulses in a pattern that created constructive interference—the combined effect exponentially stronger than individual emissions. The constructs caught in the field froze momentarily, their systems struggling to compensate for the disruption.

  Mike didn't waste the opportunity. With hammer in hand, he launched himself into the center of the immobilized group, striking with controlled precision at the vulnerable points his skill had identified. One by one, the constructs collapsed—not destroyed, but disabled in ways that would require significant repair before they could rejoin the battle.

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  Just as victory seemed within reach, the chamber darkened momentarily. When illumination returned, Curator stood in the center of the platform, its form somehow larger and more imposing than before. Additional components had integrated into its frame, transforming the administrative construct into something designed expressly for combat.

  "Final assessment begins," it announced, its voice deeper and resonating with newfound power. "Demonstrate worthiness."

  Curator moved with shocking speed for something of its size, covering the distance to Mike in a blur of metallic limbs. Its first strike caught him unprepared, sending him sliding across the platform with the breath knocked from his lungs. Trolley's disruptors had no apparent effect on this more advanced construct, their pulses seemingly absorbed rather than causing disruption.

  Kirgen attempted to flank Curator, his blade seeking the same vulnerabilities they'd exploited in the smaller constructs. With casual precision, Curator caught his wrist mid-strike, immobilizing him without apparent effort before tossing him aside like a child's toy.

  "Conventional approaches insufficient," the construct stated, advancing on Trolley, who backed away while frantically adjusting her devices.

  "Any ideas?" she called to Mike, who was struggling back to his feet, hammer still clutched tightly.

  His mind raced, analyzing what they'd seen and experienced. Not just this combat, but the technical trials, the Workshop's design, everything they'd encountered since arriving. The Artificer valued creativity, innovation, unexpected approaches to seemingly impossible problems...

  "It's not about winning!" he shouted suddenly, lowering his hammer. "Trolley, Kirgen—stand down!"

  They looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, but something in his expression must have conveyed his certainty. Hesitantly, they lowered their weapons, though both remained poised to defend themselves if needed.

  Curator paused, its glowing eyes focusing on Mike with increased intensity.

  "The Artificer didn't want mindless warriors," Mike continued, addressing the construct directly. "If this were just about combat capability, you would have overwhelmed us already. This is about judgment—knowing when to fight and when to seek alternatives."

  He took a deliberate step forward, hammer now hanging loosely at his side. "We came for the Artificer's Tools, yes. But not to use them as weapons—to create. To build defenses against the corruption that's spreading across this world. To protect rather than destroy."

  Curator remained motionless, its metallic features unreadable. For a tense moment, Mike wondered if he'd miscalculated completely, leaving them vulnerable to a final, devastating attack.

  Then, with the same suddenness with which it had appeared, Curator's combat enhancements began to retract. Components shifted, weapons systems disengaged, until the construct stood before them in its original administrative form.

  "Assessment complete," it announced, its voice returned to its previous modulation. "Alternative resolution recognized and accepted. Combat proficiency demonstrated adequately. Ethical judgment confirmed."

  The platform beneath them shifted one final time, the center section rising slightly to form a pedestal. Upon this elevated surface, a small metallic case appeared—similar in design to the chests at Crafter's Haven, but sized for portable transport rather than stationary storage.

  "Approach, ring-bearer," Curator instructed.

  Mike stepped forward cautiously, half-expecting another test or trap. When nothing happened, he reached the pedestal and examined the case. Like the chests in Haven, it featured a locking mechanism with a depression that seemed designed for a specific key.

  "The case requires authentication," Curator explained. "Present your credentials."

  Mike pressed his ring-bearing hand against the lock, feeling the familiar warm resonance as the wood-infused metal responded to the Crafter signature. Unlike the chests at Haven, however, the case remained sealed.

  "Additional authentication required," Curator prompted.

  Remembering his experience at the Workshop's entrance, Mike retrieved Morin's Smith's token from his pocket and positioned it beside his ring against the locking mechanism. The metal warmed beneath his touch, but still the case remained secured.

  "Something's missing," Trolley observed, stepping closer to examine the lock. "The design suggests a third authentication element."

  "The trials," Kirgen suggested suddenly. "We completed them as a team, not as individuals. Perhaps..."

  Understanding, Trolley moved forward and placed her hand beside Mike's on the case. Kirgen joined them, completing the circuit of contact around the locking mechanism.

  The response was immediate. Light flowed from the point of contact, spreading across the case's surface in intricate patterns. With a soft click, the lock disengaged, and the lid rose slowly on silent hinges.

  Within the case, nestled in form-fitted recesses, lay the Artificer's Tools—not a single implement, but a collection of components designed to work in concert. The central piece resembled an adjustable wrench, but with multiple articulation points that suggested far greater versatility than its mundane counterpart. Surrounding it were various attachments and accessories, each crafted from the same silvery metal as the Workshop itself.

  Most distinctive was the block-like component attached to the wrench's handle—a module with geometric patterns etched into its surface and what appeared to be connection points for the other accessories.

  "The Configurator," Kirgen breathed, scholarly awe overtaking his usual reserve. "Just as the historical accounts described. A tool capable of adapting to countless applications through modular reconfiguration."

  "May I?" Trolley asked, her fingers hovering over the tools with almost reverent hesitation.

  When neither Mike nor Curator objected, she carefully lifted the central wrench component for closer examination. The moment her fingers closed around it, the block-like module at its base illuminated, and the wrench began to transform—its dimensions shifting subtly to better fit her hand, its articulation points adjusting to optimal positions.

  "It's responding to me," she whispered, fascination overriding exhaustion. "Learning my grip patterns and strength parameters."

  "The Configurator adapts to its user," Curator confirmed. "It will continue to evolve based on usage patterns and demonstrated needs, becoming increasingly aligned with its bearer's intentions and capabilities."

  Mike watched as Trolley examined the tool with professional appreciation, her technical expertise allowing her to recognize nuances that might escape others. There seemed a rightness to her handling the Artificer's creation—a natural extension of the affinity she'd demonstrated during yesterday's trials.

  "You should carry it," he said decisively. "You understand its mechanical principles better than either of us."

  She looked up in surprise. "But you're the ring-bearer. The authorization—"

  "Was granted to all of us," he finished. "We faced the trials together, we earned access together. Besides," he added with a slight smile, "I already have a perfectly good hammer."

  Kirgen nodded agreement. "The historical accounts often mention tools finding their appropriate bearers through circumstance rather than predetermined assignment. The Artificer in particular believed in matching tools to those with natural affinity for their function."

  Trolley's fingers tightened slightly around the wrench, a gesture of acceptance and responsibility. "I'll make sure it serves our cause well."

  "Confirmation recorded," Curator announced. "The Configurator has accepted provisional bonding with bearer Trolley Kincaid, pending formal integration at Crafter's Haven."

  Mike raised an eyebrow at the construct's use of Trolley's full name—information none of them had provided. The Workshop's systems clearly had access to identification methods beyond simple physical recognition.

  "The Proving is complete," Curator continued. "You have demonstrated technical competence, combat capability, ethical judgment, and collaborative functionality. Full visitor access is now granted to all facility sections not specifically restricted for preservation purposes."

  "Thank you," Mike responded, uncertain of the proper protocol but feeling some acknowledgment was appropriate. "We appreciate the opportunity and the trust it represents."

  "Trust is earned, not granted," Curator corrected without inflection. "You have earned provisional trust through demonstrated character. Complete trust remains conditional upon future actions."

  This sobering reminder of ongoing evaluation was tempered by the construct's next statement:

  "Rest and recovery facilities are available before your departure. Additionally, the Workshop's archives may be accessed for information regarding other Crafter locations, corrupted terrain navigation, and historical context relevant to your objectives."

  The offer of access to the archives caught Kirgen's attention immediately, his scholarly enthusiasm breaking through his exhaustion. "Historical context would be invaluable. Our records of the pre-corruption era are fragmentary at best."

  "And terrain navigation information could help us avoid another journey through the corrupted forest," Trolley added, carefully returning the Configurator to its case, though her reluctance to relinquish it was evident.

  "One more question," Mike said, addressing Curator directly. "Our original plan involved stopping at Stonebridge on our return journey. Would that present any risks to the Configurator?"

  The construct seemed to consider this for a moment, its mechanical eyes focusing on some middle distance as if consulting internal data. "Stonebridge maintains neutrality through strict regulatory oversight of all artifacts entering its boundaries. The Configurator would be subject to examination, which presents moderate risk of detection by Zengrid agents who maintain presence in the settlement despite its nominal independence."

  "Could we conceal it somehow?" Trolley asked, glancing at the case with concern.

  "The Workshop can provide containment shielding that will mask the Configurator's energy signature," Curator responded. "However, physical inspection would still reveal its nature to knowledgeable observers."

  Mike weighed their options. The journey back through the Verdant Expanse would be challenging regardless, but proper supplies from Stonebridge might make the difference between success and disaster. The Zengrid presence there was concerning, but perhaps manageable with appropriate precautions.

  "We'll risk Stonebridge," he decided after consulting his companions with a glance. "The additional supplies and potential information outweigh the danger, especially with proper containment for the tools."

  "Logical assessment," Curator acknowledged. "Containment shielding will be provided before your departure."

  With the immediate decisions made, they accepted Curator's offer of rest facilities. The day's intense combat, coming after yesterday's mental challenges, had left all three drained despite their success. The Workshop provided rejuvenation chambers more sophisticated than simple beds—environments that accelerated recovery through controlled temperature, precisely calibrated humidity, and what Trolley identified as subtle energy fields that stimulated natural healing processes.

  Later, as Mike settled into his assigned chamber, he found himself reflecting on how seamlessly they had worked together during the trials. Trolley's technical expertise, Kirgen's scholarly knowledge, and his own practical building experience had complemented each other in ways that made them collectively stronger than their individual capabilities would suggest.

  The team that had embarked on this expedition had been formed by circumstance and necessity. The team that would return to Crafter's Haven had been forged through shared challenge and triumph.

  As recuperative energy flowed through his aching muscles, Mike's thoughts turned to the journey ahead. Stonebridge represented both opportunity and risk—a neutral trading hub where they might acquire valuable supplies and information, but also a place where Zengrid agents moved freely under the protection of the settlement's negotiated independence.

  The Configurator rested in its shielded case beside Trolley's rejuvenation chamber, its acquisition representing a crucial step toward their larger goal. Two tools recovered, two rings activated, five more to find.

  Step by step, the path toward defeating the Zengrid corruption—and potentially finding his way home to Sarah and Jeremy—was becoming clearer. Each challenge overcome brought new knowledge, new capabilities, new allies.

  With that encouraging thought, Mike surrendered to the rejuvenation chamber's healing influence, sleep claiming him almost instantly.

  In the morning, they would begin the journey back—first to Stonebridge, then to Crafter's Haven, where Morin awaited with his newly repaired Forge Hammer and the knowledge they would need to access the Artificer's chest.

  One more step completed on the Crafter's Path.