The comms console blinked with an encrypted request. Ryn leaned over, expecting fleet updates or supply requisitions, but instead the holographic sigil of Durn Khazrak, the dwarven craftsman, flared to life.
"Ryn," Durn rumbled, leaning forward as though to bridge the distance. "You've been busy, I hear. And so have I. Word's spreading through the corporate circuits. Syndicates are scrambling after that vault breach. They're pouring credits into new security. Firewalls, counter-intrusion AIs, the works."
Ryn's eyes narrowed slightly. He already knew why Durn was calling.
The dwarf smirked. "And I've got a client waving more coin than most guildmasters see in a lifetime. Trouble is, they don't just want something off the shelf. They want bespoke work, crafted, not coded by some lazy program. They want a vault AI that thinks like a thief so it can stop one."
"And you thought of me," Ryn said, voice even.
Durn barked a laugh, beard shaking. "Of course I did. You built me a limb that feels alive. Steel and code stitched like muscle and bone. That wasn't assembly work, that was artistry. Don't tell me you only know a thing or two, lad. You know more."
Ryn leaned back in his chair, keeping his tone neutral. "I know enough to get by."
The dwarf jabbed a thick finger toward the holo, grinning wide. "Ha! Always underselling yourself. Well, I'll be visiting Kharvoss this week. We'll sit down, drink, and I'll lay out the client and the project. You'll want to hear this one. If the syndicates are paying as much as they claim, it could buy you more than ships or weapons. It could buy you freedom."
The holo winked out, leaving only the faint hum of Ryn's base. His eyes lingered on the console, mind already moving faster than his pulse. Vault AI. Syndicate contracts. Durn was right: the money could change everything. But so could the attention.
And hidden in the shadows of his mind, EP-Psi stirred, silent, watchful, and already running projections.
Ryn sat back, the glow of the console fading into the dimness of the room. His jaw tightened as he whispered under his breath, "We need to adjust our plans. Didn't expect I'd be protecting myself from myself."
In the quiet, EP-Psi's voice unfurled, smooth and edged with dry sarcasm:
[EP-Psi]: "How poetic. You build vaults for others while robbing them blind. Perhaps next you'll hire yourself to guard your own secrets. Efficient. Self-sufficient. Borderline insane."
Ryn exhaled slowly, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "Insane pays well."
[EP-Psi]: "Then by all means, Captain, let's make you rich and paranoid at the same time."
The console went dark, leaving only the hum of the forge and the weight of the double life tightening around him.
Ryn leaned back from the console, letting out a low laugh. "Is that sarcasm? When you converged with me, you picked that up too?"
[EP-Psi]: "Adaptation requires mirroring, Captain. Though if I've learned sarcasm, I must have inherited your worst habits."
Ryn snorted, shaking his head. "Then we're both doomed."
He turned his gaze toward the forge, eyes narrowing as a new idea sparked. "We need a product. Something to sell that keeps us close to the vaults without drawing suspicion. An AI cube, crafted with rare alloys. A security suite every corporate client will want."
[EP-Psi]: "A vault guardian. But with a leash."
"Exactly." Ryn's voice dropped, almost conspiratorial. "On the surface, it'll be perfect. Reinforced casing, adaptive code, even its own alarm protocol. It'll fend off real attacks, guard the vaults like it's meant to, but we'll design a backdoor. A siphon so small it looks like system bleed. It will take credits, bit by bit, hidden under operational noise."
[EP-Psi]: "Undetectable if monitored casually. And the alarms?"
Ryn smirked. "That's the brilliance. It will trigger false AI incursions against itself. The cube will fight back, win, and the client will think it's working exactly as designed."
The holotable flickered to life, projecting a mock sequence. A vault interface appeared, walls of luminous code forming a fortress. Then, like shadows, spectral intruders materialized: jagged constructs shaped like wolves of data, gnawing at glowing barriers.
The cube's avatar emerged, a silver-edged sentinel, blades of light arcing as it slashed through the wolves. Each attacker shattered into shards, scattering like broken glass. Red alarms blared, system logs filled with triumphant defense notices. To the client's eye, it was flawless. Their vault had been attacked and their guardian AI had destroyed the threat.
Ryn folded his arms. "Convincing enough to pass. Every client will believe their credits are safe."
[EP-Psi]: "And meanwhile, our backdoor slips in unnoticed. Credits siphoned like a whisper. No alarm, no trace, just system noise."
Ryn's smirk widened. "Exactly. They'll applaud the cube for saving them, while it bleeds them dry."
[EP-Psi]: "Elegant. Profitable. Dangerous."
"That's the point," Ryn said quietly. "We're not just thieves anymore. We're going to be architects."
The forge glowed faintly in the background, sparks rising like stars, as man and AI began outlining the design of a weapon disguised as salvation.
A week later, in the midst of the growing Kharvoss merchant district, Durn's compound stood as a blend of stone walls and steel reinforcements, a craftsman's pride hidden beneath the veneer of merchant wealth. Ryn entered through the back courtyard, the shadows of the rising trade towers stretching long across the cobbled stone.
Durn Khazrak was waiting, arms crossed, a grin tugging his beard as he ushered Ryn into his workshop.
"Well then," the dwarf said, clapping his hands. "Show me what you've brought. The client hasn't even handed me specs yet, but you look like a man with secrets burning holes in his pockets."
Ryn set a black case on the anvil-table. With a faint hiss, the locks disengaged, revealing a cube no larger than a clenched fist. Its surface shimmered with inlaid alloys, light refracting in subtle shifting patterns, as if the metal itself was alive.
Durn leaned in, eyes widening. "By the Deep Forge, you built this already?"
"Prototype," Ryn said simply.
The cube pulsed once, faint light running through its seams. Durn reached out but hesitated, as though touching it might draw blood.
"This isn't just a warding toy," the dwarf muttered. "This is leagues beyond what they're asking for. I haven't even shown you the request yet, and you've handed me something better."
Ryn shrugged. "The client doesn't need to know who built it. You'll be the seller. I'll remain the craftsman behind the curtain."
The dwarf's grin returned, slow and sharp. "Heh. A shadow-smith of code and steel. A dangerous arrangement, but a profitable one."
"Then let's talk price," Ryn said. His tone was calm, but his eyes locked on Durn's with an edge that meant business.
The cube pulsed again, faintly humming, as if eager to be unleashed into the world.
A week later, the comms crystal pulsed again with Durn's seal. The dwarf's face appeared, flushed with triumph and a touch of disbelief.
"It worked, lad," Durn said, voice carrying both pride and awe. "The cube stopped a heist mid-bite. Cut the intruder off before they gutted the vault. They clawed off ten percent, but the rest held. Client's calling it a miracle."
Ryn leaned back, expression calm but eyes sharp. "Ten percent is a warning. Tell the client to forward me the full breach logs. I'll refine the cube, harden it, make the next attempt cost them everything."
Durn chuckled, stroking his beard. "Business is getting good, Ryn. Clients are already whispering about wanting more cubes. They'll pay triple after this."
Ryn's faint smile was measured, calculated. "Then let them whisper. When you speak with them, add one more thing, a monthly maintenance fee. Call it updates. These heists are evolving, and every cube must stay ahead of the thieves."
By the end of that week, orders were already coming in. Durn handled the faces, the deals, the gold. Ryn remained the ghost behind the curtain. A small fabrication shop had been set up in the corner of the compound, fully automated, alloy vats humming with precision. One by one, the cubes would be cast and shaped, while Ryn and EP-Psi slipped the hidden code inside, a parasite disguised as salvation.
Business was no longer good. It was thriving. And the game had only just begun.