The evening before their departure, Alexander found Lyra sitting cross-legged on the outpost's loading dock, surrounded by a chaotic array of small tools and components. Sunset painted the river in shades of amber and gold, but she seemed oblivious to the view, completely absorbed in whatever she was working on.

  "What's all this?" he asked, settling beside her.

  Lyra didn't look up, her fingers continuing their precise adjustments to what appeared to be an interface connector. "Been thinking about our interfaces since the assessment meeting."

  Alexander raised an eyebrow. "Thinking what, exactly?"

  Now she did look up, those unusual amber eyes calcuting something behind their guarded expression. "They're inefficient. And..." she hesitated, choosing her words carefully, "not as secure as they could be."

  "Meaning?"

  "Meaning standard interfaces have limitations," Lyra said, setting down her tools. "Environmental awareness, resource tracking, communication protocols—all restricted by corporate parameters. I can modify them. Make them better."

  Alexander studied her for a moment. Interface manipution was strictly reguted—altering neural connectivity without proper authorization was both forbidden and potentially dangerous. Yet Lyra spoke about it with the casual confidence of someone discussing a simple equipment upgrade.

  "These aren't just any interfaces," he reminded her. "Mine and Elijah's are Architect-css. Valeria's is corporate security grade."

  "I know," Lyra said with a slight shrug. "But an interface is an interface. Different quality, same basic architecture."

  "And you can improve them?" Alexander asked, unable to completely hide his skepticism.

  "I've modified my own enough times," she replied, tapping the interface port visible at her temple. The standard metallic finish had been subtly altered, with faint circuit-like patterns extending just beneath her skin. "Limited materials in Sector 17 meant getting creative."

  Alexander knew he should immediately refuse. Corporate protocol was explicit—interfaces were never to be modified outside authorized facilities. But they weren't in a corporate facility. They were in the Game, where survival often meant bending rules.

  "What exactly would these modifications do?" he asked, decision suspended between training and practicality.

  Lyra seemed to sense his openness. She leaned forward, suddenly animated in a way he rarely saw. "Three main improvements. First, enhanced environmental mapping—better spatial awareness, automatic terrain feature tagging. Second, optimized resource tracking—identification and categorization with 60% less processing load. Third..." she lowered her voice slightly, "a secure communication subsystem that can't be monitored without triggering detection protocols."

  The st feature caught Alexander's attention, as she'd clearly intended. After their confrontation with Valeria about her reporting, a truly secure communication system would be invaluable.

  "And the risks?" he asked.

  "Minimal with my supervision," Lyra answered. "Temporary visual distortion during calibration. Maybe some minor sensory feedback until the neural pathways adjust."

  Alexander considered his options. Standard leadership training would demand he reject the unauthorized modifications. But standard training hadn't prepared him for the Game's realities.

  "Show me on mine first," he decided. "If it works, we'll consider the others."

  Lyra nodded, satisfaction briefly crossing her face. "We'll need a proper workspace. Your Artificer friend Jorin offered his workshop before we leave."

  "You've already discussed this with Jorin?"

  "Professional courtesy," she replied. "One technical specialist to another."

  Artificer Jorin's workshop was a marvel of organized chaos—tools hanging from every avaible surface, materials sorted in beled containers, half-finished projects crowding workbenches. The one-eyed artificer greeted them with obvious excitement, his mechanical arm gesturing enthusiastically toward a cleared workstation.

  "The young dy has fascinating ideas," he told Alexander, his single eye bright with technical curiosity. "Haven't seen interface work like this since my corporate days."

  Alexander noted that comment with interest as Elijah, Valeria, and Riva joined them. Riva moved carefully, still favoring her injured side, but her face lit up when she saw the workshop.

  "Are we getting upgrades?" she asked, gncing at the tools Lyra was arranging.

  "Potentially," Alexander answered. "I'm testing it first."

  Valeria crossed her arms, skepticism evident. "Interface modifications without proper facilities are extremely risky."

  "So is fighting a seven-headed river monster," Lyra countered without looking up from her preparations. "But we managed that just fine."

  Alexander settled into the chair Lyra had prepared, watching as she connected diagnostic tools to a small processor unit. Her movements were quick and sure, dispying none of the hesitation he'd expect from someone self-taught.

  "This will establish a baseline," she expined, attaching sensor pads to his temple. "I need to understand your interface's current configuration before making changes."

  As data began flowing across her screen, Alexander noticed Elijah watching with unusual intensity. His brother had basic medical knowledge of neural interfaces but had never shown particur interest in their technical aspects.

  "That's... interesting," Elijah said, leaning closer to the diagnostic dispy. "Where did you learn to read raw neural mapping data?"

  Lyra's hands paused almost imperceptibly before continuing. "Salvage specialists need to understand what they're handling. Neural interfaces are valuable finds, even damaged ones."

  Alexander caught his brother's eye, noting the subtle doubt there. He'd had simir questions since they'd met Lyra—her technical skills consistently exceeded what should be possible given her background.

  "Alright, baseline established," Lyra announced. "Ready for first modification—environmental mapping enhancement. This will feel... unusual. Try not to fight it."

  She connected a different device to his interface port, her fingers moving with practiced precision. The moment it engaged, Alexander's vision blurred, then sharpened dramatically. Colors intensified, edges became more defined, and suddenly he could perceive distances with perfect accuracy.

  "Whoa," he breathed involuntarily.

  "That's just calibration," Lyra said, making minute adjustments. "Wait until the spatial recognition algorithm activates."

  Moments ter, Alexander's perception shifted again. Now he could somehow "feel" the dimensions of the room without looking—as if the space itself had become part of his awareness. Objects registered not just visually but spatially, with intuitive information about distance, composition, and retionship to other objects.

  "This is... incredible," he admitted, standing to test the new perception. "It's like I can sense everything around me."

  "That's the point," Lyra said with a hint of pride. "The standard interface filters out most environmental data to prevent sensory overload. I've just reprogrammed it to process that data more efficiently."

  Over the next hour, Alexander experienced each modification as Lyra implemented them. The resource tracking system automatically cataloged and categorized objects of potential value in his field of vision. The secure communication subsystem created a protected channel that integrated seamlessly with his existing interface functions.

  Throughout the process, Alexander watched Lyra carefully. She worked with a confidence and precision that seemed impossible for someone self-taught in an Unaligned sector. Some of her techniques—particurly the neural pathway recalibration—were advanced enough to impress even Artificer Jorin, who occasionally murmured appreciative comments.

  Elijah seemed to notice the same incongruities. As Lyra completed Alexander's modifications and began diagnostic tests, he leaned close to his brother and whispered, "Those are medical-grade neural calibration techniques. Sector 17 shouldn't have access to that knowledge."

  Alexander nodded slightly. Another piece of the puzzle that was Lyra Kess—exceptional skills with mysterious origins. Yet the results were undeniable. His interface now functioned at a level beyond its original specifications, with capabilities that would prove invaluable in the challenges ahead.

  "Everything checks out," Lyra announced, disconnecting the diagnostic tools. "How does it feel?"

  Alexander tested each new system, impressed by both their functionality and seamless integration. "Better than standard. Much better."

  "Who's next?" Lyra asked, looking at the others.

  Riva immediately volunteered, practically bouncing in her seat despite her injuries. Elijah followed, his medical curiosity seemingly overriding his questions about Lyra's knowledge. Valeria hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of unauthorized modifications to her security-grade interface.

  "It's your choice," Alexander told her. "But these enhancements will be significant advantages in Floor 8. And the secure communication system will respect our... arrangement."

  Valeria understood his meaning—the modifications would strengthen their agreement about what information she could report. After a moment's consideration, she nodded her consent.

  As Lyra worked on each team member in turn, Alexander took the opportunity to speak with Artificer Jorin privately.

  "You said you haven't seen interface work like this since your corporate days," he prompted. "What did you mean?"

  The artificer stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Most techs work from manuals, following procedures. Your friend there understands the underlying principles. She's not just implementing modifications—she's innovating on the fly." He gnced at Lyra with professional respect. "That kind of intuitive grasp of neural-digital integration is rare. Very rare."

  "Even for corporate specialists?"

  "Especially for corporate specialists," Jorin confirmed. "They're trained to follow protocols, not rewrite them. What she's doing..." he gestured toward where Lyra was calibrating Elijah's interface, "that's not learned from manuals."

  The implication hung in the air, unspoken but clear: Lyra's skills suggested training far beyond what any salvage specialist from an Unaligned sector should possess.

  By evening, all five team members had received the modifications. They gathered in the outpost's training area to test the new capabilities in a practical setting.

  "Try the environmental mapping in tandem," Lyra suggested. "If you all focus on different sections, you'll create a complete spatial model."

  They spread out around the area, each concentrating on a different zone. Through the enhanced interfaces, Alexander could somehow sense what the others were perceiving, creating a unified awareness of the entire space.

  "This is incredible," Riva said, turning slowly in pce with her eyes closed. "I can feel where everything is without seeing it."

  "The resource tagging system is equally impressive," Valeria noted, professional enough to acknowledge quality work despite her reservations. "It's automatically prioritizing items based on our current needs."

  Captain Verna had come to observe, her weathered face showing rare surprise as she watched them demonstrate abilities that exceeded standard interface functions.

  "In twenty years at this outpost, I've never seen interfaces perform like that," she remarked to Alexander. "Your technical specialist is... exceptional."

  "She is," Alexander agreed, watching as Lyra made final adjustments to Elijah's calibration.

  When they tested the secure communication system, its effectiveness became immediately apparent. They could share thoughts and images across their modified interfaces with no external trace—a completely closed system that even Valeria's security-grade interface couldn't breach without triggering alerts.

  "This changes everything," Elijah said through the private channel. "We can coordinate perfectly without external monitoring."

  Alexander nodded, understanding the implications. The modifications didn't just enhance their technical capabilities—they shifted the bance of power, giving them true privacy for the first time since entering the Game.

  As the testing concluded, Alexander found a moment to speak with Lyra alone while the others packed their equipment for tomorrow's departure.

  "Your skills go well beyond salvage work," he said quietly. "I think we both know that."

  Lyra's expression remained carefully neutral. "Survival requires adaptability. I adapted."

  "To a level that impresses a former corporate artificer?"

  She met his gaze evenly. "Does it matter? The modifications work. They'll help us survive Floor 8 and beyond. Isn't that what counts?"

  Alexander considered her question seriously. In the Game's brutal reality, results often mattered more than origins. These modifications would give them significant advantages, regardless of how Lyra had acquired the knowledge to create them.

  "For now," he finally answered. "But eventually, we're going to have a longer conversation about your 'adaptability.'"

  A hint of a smile touched Lyra's lips. "Maybe. If we survive long enough."

  The next morning, the team gathered at the outpost's entrance, packs loaded and equipment checked. The newly modified interfaces hummed with enhanced awareness, already mapping the path ahead toward Floor 8's transition point.

  Captain Verna stood with her officers to see them off. "You've set a record for the outpost," she told them. "Fastest team to defeat the Leviathan on first attempt. That says something."

  "We had good training," Alexander replied. "And exceptional team members."

  As they set off along the river path that would lead to Floor 8's entrance, Alexander felt a subtle shift in their dynamic. The interface modifications had created a literal connection between them—a shared perception and communication system that bound them together in a new way.

  Through this connection, he could sense Elijah's lingering questions about Lyra's abilities, Riva's excitement despite her healing injuries, Valeria's cautious acceptance of the new protocols, and even Lyra's carefully maintained barriers around her true origins.

  They were more connected than ever, yet mysteries remained. As the path curved upward toward where the great living trees of Floor 8 would soon appear, Alexander updated their inventory one st time:

  Team Inventory Additions:- Enhanced interface modifications (all team members)- Environmental mapping system - 300% improved spatial awareness- Resource tracking optimization - 60% increased efficiency- Secure communication subsystem - Undetectable by standard monitoring- Captain Verna's advanced river combat tactics manual- Farewell gifts from Forest Watch (medicinal supplies)- Water navigation charts for future referenceFloor 7 had changed them, as each floor did. They had mastered its river challenges, defeated its guardian, and gained new capabilities that would serve them in the challenges ahead. But perhaps the most significant development was invisible in any inventory—a deepening trust that persisted despite unanswered questions.

  As they approached the transition point to Floor 8, Alexander gnced at Lyra, who walked slightly apart from the others as usual. Whatever her secrets, her contributions had become essential. The mystery of her origins remained, but her pce in the team was no longer in question.

  Tomorrow they would face the challenges of the Living Vilge. Today, they would appreciate how far they had come since entering Floor 7—not just as individuals with enhanced interfaces, but as a team with strengthening bonds.