Secrets!

Steven couldn't stop looking at his upgraded Mana Pistol.

He rotated it in his hands, admiring the faint blue runes now etched along the barrel.

"...If this is what I can do with one weird screwdriver..."

His mind immediately jumped ahead.

"...Imagine if I had an Artificer class."

Or an Engineer.

He practically sprinted to the Player Marketplace on his phone.

"Let's see..."

He searched Artificer Class Book.

His smile vanished.

"..."

The cheapest listing was so expensive he had to double-check he hadn't accidentally added an extra zero.

He hadn't.

Engineer wasn't much better.

Both classes were considered incredibly desirable. Artificers created magical equipment while Engineers specialized in constructs, machinery, firearms, and all manner of technological inventions.

The demand was enormous.

The supply...

Almost nonexistent.

Steven slowly lowered his phone.

"...Even if I sold everything I own..."

"The pistol."

"The earring."

"All my materials."

"...I'd still be nowhere close."

He sighed.

"Someday."

He bookmarked both listings anyway.

Just seeing them there gave him something to strive toward.

"Until then..."

"I'll make do with what I've got."

About thirty minutes later, Steven was once again standing before the giant silver Gate.

The familiar ticking welcomed him as he stepped inside.

His equipment automatically materialized.

The Mana Pistol settled comfortably into its holster.

The MP-boosting earring appeared in place.

He smiled.

"I love presets."

Without wasting time, he retraced the now familiar route.

Past the mechanical wolves.

Past the clockwork constructs.

Through the giant workshop.

Beyond the massive gear-operated door.

Eventually arriving once more inside the mysterious complex.

This time...

He ignored the rooms he'd already explored.

Instead he chose an entirely different corridor branching away from the central workshop.

The hallway twisted several times before opening into what appeared to have once been a storage archive.

Rows of towering shelves stretched from floor to ceiling.

Unfortunately...

Most of them had collapsed.

Books, crates, and shattered storage boxes were buried beneath decades—perhaps centuries—of dust.

Steven spent nearly half an hour carefully searching through the room.

Nothing.

Most of the books had completely rotted away.

The few metal storage chests he found were empty.

Even the shelves themselves had long since rusted beyond usefulness.

"...Looks like somebody beat me here."

Or perhaps whoever abandoned this place had simply taken everything with them.

Either way...

There wasn't a single worthwhile item left behind.

Moving on, he entered another room.

This one appeared to be a testing chamber.

Strange target dummies still stood in neat rows, each constructed from layered steel plates riddled with thousands upon thousands of tiny impact marks.

Several walls were blackened as though repeated magical explosions had scorched them over many years.

An intricate shooting range stretched nearly a hundred yards down the room.

At the far end stood silhouettes shaped vaguely like monsters.

Steven walked the length of the range.

Not a single reward.

No hidden compartment.

No chest.

No secret switch.

Just an abandoned training facility.

"...Kind of disappointing."

Still...

He couldn't resist trying it.

He drew his Mana Pistol.

Aimed.

PEW!

The mana bolt struck the nearest target dead center.

The target briefly lit up with glowing runes.

A brass plate flipped over.

Power: Acceptable

Steven laughed.

"...Well thanks."

He holstered the pistol and continued on.

The next chamber smelled faintly of oil.

Workbench after workbench filled the room.

Unlike the grand workshop outside, these stations were much smaller.

Almost personal.

Each appeared to belong to an individual craftsman.

Tiny nameplates had once been attached to them, though time had worn the lettering completely smooth.

Every drawer Steven opened was empty.

Every cabinet stripped bare.

Even the tool racks had only dust outlines where equipment had once hung.

Whoever had left...

Hadn't left in a hurry.

They had packed.

Methodically.

Taking nearly everything of value with them.

Steven found that oddly unsettling.

It implied intent.

Not disaster.

Not panic.

Planning.

He quietly closed the final drawer.

"...Nothing."

One more hallway caught his attention.

This one ended at a circular room.

Unlike the others, it was completely empty.

No furniture.

No machinery.

No shelves.

Just smooth stone flooring.

Steven frowned.

"...That's suspicious."

He slowly walked around the perimeter.

His footsteps echoed strangely.

Too strangely.

He stomped his foot once.

Thunk.

Not solid.

Hollow.

His eyebrows rose.

"...Well..."

"You're definitely hiding something."

He knelt down and began carefully searching the floor, tracing each seam in the stone with his fingertips.

Whatever this room's purpose had been...

He was suddenly very interested in finding out.