The cabin door hadn’t been closed a full five seconds after Kade reentered the great cabin before it opened again and the room began to repopulate. It felt like each delegate was calculating the exact moment they wanted to be seen returning. Kade slipped back into her seat without ceremony. Lawson followed, settling into the chair beside Captain Voss as if he was bracing for recoil. Neither looked at the other, but the look on Lawson's face said everything Kade needed to know.

  The chairs scraped in again, slower this time. As if everyone had decided to pretend, at least for the moment, that they weren’t sharpening knives beneath the table.

  Burrell dropped into his seat and leaned over to whisper something to O'Malley. The two men's expressions were unreadable, but they were keeping their eyes firmly locked onto their counterparts from the Restoration Council. Tilden returned still clinging to his portfolio like it contained a verdict he hadn’t decided whether to deliver. Callan sat beside him, jaw set, one finger tapping once against the grain of the table before going still again. Across from them, Mireya and Jon continued their impression of disassociated researchers. Mireya didn’t look at anyone, but her orb drifted behind her like a lazy moon, humming a soft, steady rhythm that frayed Kade’s nerves in half-second increments.

  Captain Voss waited just long enough to confirm no one was going to speak out of turn. Then he leaned forward, elbows on the table, and let his voice drop low.

  "No more chest-pounding."

  He didn’t raise his voice. That would have invited a challenge. Instead, he spoke with a voice that spoke of authority and pitched the meeting as the group against the problem rather than the group against each other. It was a hallmark of a truly outstanding leader that few people possessed.

  "This table doesn’t have room for grudges. From this point forward, we stay on topic. Anyone who starts finger-pointing again, they’ll finish their complaints on the dock."

  "You all came here asking for solutions. Not a petty squabble over who should be in charge. The undead situation is only going to get worse. And unless you’d all like to wake up to reports of one of your counter-parts being wiped off the map in the middle of the night, we're going to stay on target."

  The words settled like ballast, anchoring the room.

  "The issue on the table," he continued, "is the undead incursion. The world event. Whatever name you want to stick on it, it’s killing civilians, destabilizing your territories, and pushing this whole mess toward collapse. So, for the duration of this summit, that’s what we’re discussing. No detours, vendettas, or distractions. Understood?"

  No one dared test the boundaries this time. Even Burrell stayed still.

  "Conclave has the floor. Mireya, let's hear it." Voss said.

  Mireya adjusted her cuffs with a move that seemed too casual to be genuine. She reached toward the map and set down a brass marker on the graveyard that the Horizon Talon had escorted Mireya and Elara to investigate a few days earlier.

  "The artifact we recovered from the graveyard event," she began, "is part of a keystone. Not a complete device. Its structure suggests it once operated as a regulator or restraint for localized undead phenomena."

  Kade didn’t move, didn’t even blink, but her attention sharpened. That didn't sound like speculation. Mireya had said that as if it were a foregone conclusion. It made little sense that she would know that much, and that meant Mireya already knew more than she’d admitted.

  Across the table, Burrell spoke up to voice the same concerns that Kade had just been internalizing. "You figured that out in what? A day?"

  Mireya offered him a thin smile, the kind that dressed up condescension in silk and called it civility.

  "It’s my job to know what others overlook. My class gives me the ability to let me see such things."

  Kade didn’t argue. On paper, it checked out. Appraisal traits weren’t unheard of. The ship’s quartermaster, Devin Cole, had brought them up back when they first built the prize share loot system. But something in Mireya’s delivery made Kade’s skin itch. Mireya's answer was too smooth, almost as if she had rehearsed it and fired it on cue. It didn’t feel like the whole truth. Just the part Mireya wanted them to hear.

  But there was no proof. Not yet.

  The orb hummed faintly beside Mireya’s shoulder, casting a pale sheen across the table as she shifted her hand again, this time toward a different cluster of markers. They were the same ones Kade hadn’t been able to place earlier, each one isolated and oddly positioned.

  "These locations," Mireya said, "are known dungeons in the area. The other half of the keystone, according to all our current projections based on data other undead anomalies that our scouts have found, is here.

  Her finger tapped the marker hovering just off the coast.

  "Halfway Rock Lighthouse."

  Callan leaned forward. "And how do you know that?"

  There was no heat in his voice, but Kade recognized the pressure behind it. Seems the Tidebound Front and the Restoration Council had at least one thing in common. A distrust of convenient information.

  Mireya kept her tone even. "Research."

  "That’s not an answer."

  "It’s the only one you’ll get unless you'd prefer a technical deep dive on harmonic resonance decay and systemic phase bleed. I can provide references if you’d like."

  The way she said it, it wasn’t an offer. It was a wall.

  Kade watched Callan’s jaw tighten. Tilden, to his left, didn’t even pretend to follow. His eyes stayed fixed on the map as if he might find a footnote he could use to regain footing.

  "If we recover the other half of the keystone, we will construct a repulsion field. Something tied to the Safe Zone that would prevent the undead from entering a specific radius. Think of it as a hard boundary."

  Kade’s attention flicked to Voss. He hadn’t moved, but the shift in his posture was enough.

  "A net’s no use," he said quietly, "if you haven’t got a hull to hold it."

  Mireya inclined her head. "Which is why I’m not suggesting we wait. The factions can deliberate terms of a new Safe Zone here aboard the Horizon Talon. Meanwhile, someone must retrieve the keystone. One effort proceeds while the other stabilizes."

  Tilden’s grip on his pen tightened until his knuckles yellowed, but he said nothing.

  Callan gave her a skeptical look. "And who do you expect to risk that retrieval?"

  Burrell gave a humorless chuckle. "Maybe the Restoration Council should go. See how well all that legitimacy holds up when things start chewing."

  Callan turned to respond, but Kade spoke first.

  "That’s why she asked us here," she said. "Mireya wants the Talon crew to take on that dungeon."

  Mireya gave a soft nod. "The Conclave will provide researchers. The Talon provides escort. Just like the cemetery."

  Callan and Burrell both spoke at once.

  "No."

  "Absolutely not."

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

  Callan jabbed a finger toward the map. "If the artifact is this critical, then the Council must have representation. We will not hand over recovery to mercenaries and academics."

  Burrell didn’t even bother looking at him. "Same goes for the Front. I’m not about to let some crystal-slinging think tank come back with a relic and no oversight."

  Voss’s voice cut across the rising volume.

  "Then, each faction sends one rep. One. That’s it. But if we’re doing this, if the Horizon Talon is risking lives to retrieve that keystone, then this summit doesn’t end until we settle the Safe Zone issue. Here. With me as mediator. No stalling. All in."

  Burrell didn’t answer immediately. "I’ll agree. But only if the Restoration Council stops pushing into contested salvage sites while negotiations are ongoing."

  Kade didn't have to be a political genius to see that Burrell had a hidden agenda with his concession. He'd given in far too quickly without there being a reason.

  Callan bristled, but the weight of the room pressed him into stillness.

  "Fine," he said. "But the Tidebound Front holds its own lines as well."

  "Fine," Burrell responded

  The silence that followed wasn’t peace. But it was something close to alignment.

  Mireya let out a breath that might have been satisfaction or calculation. "Then we have a path forward."

  As if to acknowledge this milestone in the conversation, a quest prompt invaded Kade's vision.

  Signal in the Dark

  Quest Notification! A clandestine mission to delve into the unknown. Investigate the Halfway Rock Lighthouse dungeon to see if the keystone you seek is buried there. However, dungeons don't easily give up their secrets. Clear the site and return to the Horizon Talon with the keystone, or confirmation that it is not inside.

  Difficulty: Very Hard

  Completion Conditions: Explore the entire dungeon and clear all the dungeon bosses.

  Reward: Experience, gold, and one item reward.

  Accept Quest? Yes/No

  The language of the quest prompt felt different from the quests she'd previously been given. The language felt off. Vague. Less directive than usual. No guarantee the keystone was even at the lighthouse. No confirmation of what it actually did. The entire thing made Kade suspicious.

  She read the entire prompt twice before accepting and blinking it away. There was no point in showing it to the room. Not yet. Not with so many uncertainties wrapped in official language.

  "Captain, we’ll need to take the Talon out to the lighthouse," she said. "If we’re sailing into something no one’s cleared before, I want hull integrity and firepower on our side."

  That drew heads again. Across the table, Callan frowned. "We agreed this summit would remain aboard the Talon until resolution. If the ship leaves harbor, the Council withdraws."

  "Then we move the summit," Voss snapped. "The Talon takes the expedition team to Halfway Rock. I’ll establish neutral ground at the Tidebound Front fortress. We resume tomorrow, on schedule."

  Callan’s expression soured instantly. "You want us to sit under their roof?"

  "It’s a roof," Voss replied. "And we’ll all be under it. No faction hosts. We agree on shared terms and make it work."

  Burrell hesitated, jaw tight. Then, as if dragging the words through his teeth, he offered, "If the Council wants neutral ground, they can secure it. Restoration forces take point on the perimeter. The Front won’t interfere."

  Kade’s eyebrows lifted slightly. That had cost him. From what little experience she had with Burrell, it was clear he’d rather eat rusted bolts than offer Council authority over anything, even temporarily.

  "Fine. So long as the rest of the arrangement holds as already agreed." Callan responded.

  Burrell gave a grunt. "It will. I’ll have my crews finish up repairs on the Talon tonight. She’ll be ready to sail at first light."

  Voss leaned back slightly, fingers pressed together as he addressed the table one last time.

  "Each faction will return tomorrow with its chosen representative. I’d prefer the six of you present now to be the ones who come back. We’ll settle this."

  His voice hadn’t changed, but something in the room had. The earlier tension, sharp and reactionary, had softened into a kind of grim resolve. No one objected. Even Callan, who had spent half the morning resisting every perceived concession, gave only a curt nod before pushing his chair back from the table.

  The Councilors were the first to leave. Tilden moved as if the meeting had physically aged him, still clutching his untouched portfolio with both hands as if afraid someone might ask him to use it. Callan followed, posture tight, eyes forward, silent as he passed through the door.

  Burrell stood slower. He looked down at the map for a long moment, then turned to O’Malley with a small jerk of his head towards the door. They didn’t speak, but something passed between them, wordless and agreed upon. A moment later, they were gone as well, boots echoing faintly down the corridor before the door clicked shut behind them.

  Mireya lingered for a few moments. Almost as if she had more to say but changed her mind.

  She remained seated, gaze still on the lighthouse marker, like the mission was already underway and she was just waiting for the rest to catch up. Her orb floated a little closer to her shoulder, humming gently, the pitch rising and falling with no discernible pattern. Jon Larocque stood only after she did, a half-second behind, as though uncertain he could move first. They slipped out without a word, and then the war room finally held still.

  Kade hadn’t moved. Lawson remained seated across from her, eyes low, one hand resting near the edge of the table but not touching it. The lantern overhead hissed softly, its flame burning lower than it had been, casting longer shadows against the planks. Outside, somewhere in the rigging, a loose line clattered once, then settled.

  Voss didn’t speak. He simply turned in his chair, not all the way, just enough to look toward her. There was no question in the expression he gave her, but she rose anyway, letting the stiffness work its way out of her back as she circled the length of the table. The map stayed where they had left it, and the markers still formed the shape of a problem that needed more than force to solve.

  She dropped into the chair at Voss’s left. The wood at the arms wore smooth because of time and pressure. Lawson didn’t move from his seat at Voss’s right. None of them said anything.

  The tension had drained out of the cabin, but something heavier had settled in its place. It was as if all three of them understood that none of this was clean. The plan was in motion, but the ground underneath it hadn’t stopped shifting.

  "That could’ve gone worse," Lawson said eventually.

  Kade chuckled. "Name one part that went right."

  Voss let out a breath that wasn’t quite a sigh. "They all walked out without drawing weapons."

  "That’s our metric now?" she joked. "Not stabbing counts as a win?"

  "Given the stakes, I’ll take what I can get."

  The cabin fell silent again. A few floorboards popped as the ship settled against drydock scaffolding. Somewhere topside, someone barked orders, followed by the rhythmic clank of tools. The repair crews were already moving.

  "Let’s talk about what we just signed up for," Voss said. His voice didn’t change, but the tone shifted. This wasn’t diplomacy anymore. This was a mission briefing.

  "The Restoration Council and the Tidebound Front just boxed themselves in. They both think they can win a stalemate, but neither one’s got the personnel, resources, or civilian trust to lock this down clean. And Ebonwake knows it. That’s why they played the keystone when they did."

  Kade leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping once against the edge of the table.

  "They’re trying to make us the wedge."

  Voss nodded. "They don’t want control of the zone handed to either faction. So they force the issue. Drop a solution on the table, but make sure it’s just out of reach. Then dangle it in front of the one party still capable of grabbing it without triggering a civil war or riot."

  "They’re using us," Kade said. "I keep getting the impression that they're playing chess while the rest of us are playing checkers."

  "Yes," Voss agreed. "But they’re also giving us leverage."

  Lawson looked up at that. "You want to play kingmaker?"

  "No," Voss replied. "I want to keep the people in this harbor from tearing each other apart while the dead swarm the edges. If we recover the keystone, neither side gets to claim it as a political win. We hold the artifact. We shape the narrative."

  He didn’t raise his voice, but there was steel beneath it. The kind that didn’t come from ego, just years of doing the job long after it stopped being simple.

  Kade gave a small shrug. She didn’t like the politics, but the strategy was sound.

  "Then we go in small," she said. "Tight team. Just enough to move fast and survive whatever’s waiting in there. Anything larger, and we look like we’re trying to seize it for ourselves."

  Voss gestured for her to continue.

  "Marie Stone on medical. She’s calm under pressure, doesn’t waste resources, and knows when to speak and when to shut up. Mercer for recon. If there’s a way through the cliffs or the interior structure, she’ll find it without tripping every trap on the way. Myers covers infiltration. Doors, locks, mechanicals, all the usual rogue work."

  She paused mentally, sorting the rest of the manifest. "Then two or three heavies. Brawlers who can hold a line in close quarters and who don’t ask too many questions. I'd say Briggs, but I'm not sure we want to put all of our senior people on this."

  "And yourself," Voss added.

  Kade’s eyes flicked up. "I figured that was a given."

  Lawson rocked his chair back a little, though his voice stayed level. "Any reason we shouldn’t assume this place is a deathtrap that remembered to hang out a welcome sign?"

  Kade snorted. "Only if we’re being optimistic."

  "That’s why we pick the team carefully. If this goes bad, it goes bad out there. Not here during the planning phase." Voss said.

  Kade didn’t flinch. "Then we load for endurance."

  "You're going to need to take Briggs. I get what you're saying about not wanting all our eggs in the basket, but he's the best choice. I've also got a couple of guys with shields who can be the front liners." Lawson said after a moment.

  The cabin was quiet again, but not empty. The quiet that gathered around unspoken acknowledgments.

  "That should help us mitigate most of the unpredictable conditions," Kade said.

  Lawson leaned forward, folding his hands on the table like he was settling in for something heavier than strategy.

  "Unpredictable conditions," he said. "Is that what we’re calling it now?"

  Kade gave him a sidelong glance. "You got a better term?"

  He grinned faintly. "Only that someone’s going to set that lighthouse on fire."

  "Probably, Myers," Kade said, laughing and breaking the tension in the room.

  Voss didn’t smile, but the corner of his mouth twitched. Then, it was gone.

  Kade looked down at the map one last time, the marker still pinned to the edge of Halfway Rock.

  Things were moving fast now. Whatever collision they were heading towards with the Safe Zone tension and the world event, it was all likely to come to a head depending on the outcome of the dungeon.

  If you want to read ahead, or if you’d just like to support me as an artist, I’d be incredibly grateful. I also have a special holiday Patreon-exclusive chapter going up on Christmas. It’s a standalone short set in the Surviving the Simulation universe, packed with all the system apocalypse shenanigans you’d expect.