I completed the water system design in just three days, my constructs assisting with the calculations and material specifications. The schematics were elegantly simple yet efficient. Copper piping would run through the natural tunnel network beneath the enclave, connecting to the hot springs deep within the volcano's heart.

Standing at the mouth of the largest tunnel, I watched as teams of goblins and kobolds maneuvered sections of copper piping into place. Their small statures proved advantageous in the narrower passages, though they struggled with the weight of the metal.

"No, no! You're creating a weak point!" bellowed Jor, the massive orc blacksmith supervising alongside me. His scarred hands gestured emphatically as he demonstrated the proper connection technique. "The joint must be sealed completely or it will burst when the pressure builds!"

The goblin workers nodded nervously, redoing their work under his critical eye. Jor turned to me, his voice lowering to a rumble.

"These ones have never worked with metal before. Wood and stone, yes, but metal pipes? New concept."

They're learning quickly, I observed their work with Mind Sight. The kobolds especially show natural aptitude for precise work.

Jor grunted agreement. "Worked fifteen years in human forges before coming here. Never seen humans attempt a system like this. Always hauling water in buckets like animals."

I sent two of my scout spiders deeper into the tunnel network, monitoring the teams working farther along the route. Through their visual feeds, I could see the specially designed pumps already installed at the springs. The pumps were my proudest creation for this project: simple mechanical devices that would harness the natural heat and pressure of the springs to push water upward without requiring constant maintenance.

The communal wells are complete, I informed Jor. Each with regulated spigots and overflow channels to prevent flooding.

"And these pipes will not burst from the heat?" Jor asked, tapping a copper section with his knuckle.

The copper will expand slightly but remain intact. I've calculated the necessary flexibility in the joints.

A small kobold approached us, wiping sweat from his scaled brow. "Elder Fargill wants to know when water will flow."

Jor looked to me expectantly.

If work continues at this pace, I replied, the first well should receive water by tomorrow's evening. All twelve wells within three days.

The kobold's eyes widened with excitement before he scurried away to deliver the news.

This system would transform daily life in the enclave. And it was just the beginning of what I could create.

I watched Arctur descend the tunnel, his reptilian form silhouetted against the amber glow of the magma lamps. We hadn't crossed paths since our arrival at the enclave nearly a week ago.

How have you been? I asked through Mind Speech. Haven't seen you since you left to reunite with your family.

Arctur shrugged, his scales catching the light. "All is well. My clutch-mates were surprised to see me return alive from the Academy." He paused, eyeing my tendrils as they deftly adjusted a pipe fitting. "Shouldn't you be leveling up? Wasn't that the whole point of coming to the Central Hellzone?"

I retracted my tendril from the copper joint. You're right. That was our agreement.

"The project looks nearly complete anyway," Arctur observed.

Jor slapped his massive hand against a finished section of piping. "I can handle supervision from here. The design works. The workers understand their tasks." He gestured toward the exit with a scarred thumb. "Go have your fun. Kill some beasts."

I suppose I should see how tough the monsters in this Hellzone truly are.

Jor's laughter echoed through the tunnel, deep and rumbling. "You will not be disappointed. The creatures here would make kingdom knights soil their armor."

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Arctur led me upward through the winding passages. We passed a long line of goblins and kobolds hauling sections of copper piping, their small bodies straining under the weight. The organized effort impressed me, as each worker knew their role in this complex undertaking.

"There hasn't been a civic project this big in the enclave for a long time," Arctur remarked, nodding toward the bustling workers.

What was the last major project?

"Ten years ago, when they built the third mushroom farm in the east district." Arctur's voice carried a note of pride. "But nothing on this scale. Your water system will change everything."

We emerged into the enclave proper, the vast cavern buzzing with activity. Market stalls lined the central plaza, while monsters of every variety went about their daily business.

I need to retrieve my equipment, I told him. Meet you at the main gate?

Arctur nodded. "Don't take too long. The best hunting is in the morning hours."

I wound my way through the settlement, my nine golden tendrils carrying me effortlessly above the stone pathways. The enclave's residents watched my passage with varied expressions. Some eyed me with suspicion, as I was a stranger in their midst. Others bowed their heads in reverence, since I was the Prophet's honored guest. Most simply stared with naked curiosity at my mechanical form gliding through their streets.

As I approached my warehouse workshop, I spotted the familiar cluster of children pressed against the windows, watching my constructs through the glass. They scattered at my approach, disappearing down alleys before I could acknowledge them.

I entered the workshop, one tendril shooting out to intercept Rolly as the wheeled construct made another escape attempt. The small machine chirped in protest as I returned it to its designated area. I retrieved my sword-lance, securing it to my belt where the Brace enchantment held it firmly in place.

A flicker of movement caught my attention. Through the window, a young human boy, no more than seven or eight, peered inside with wide eyes. When our gazes met, he jerked back in alarm and fled.

I exited quickly, catching a glimpse of the child rushing down the street. His clothes hung in tatters, his skin smudged with dirt and soot. Clutched in his small hands was a burlap sack bulging with what appeared to be produce.

A human child. Here, in the monster enclave.

My curiosity overrode my hunting plans. I followed silently, my tendrils carrying me just high enough to maintain visual contact without alerting him to my pursuit.

I followed the child through unfamiliar streets, my tendrils carrying me silently above the cobblestones. The neighborhood gradually transformed; the buildings grew larger, their facades more ornate, with decorative stonework and polished metal fixtures. This section of the enclave clearly housed its wealthier residents, a stark contrast to the utilitarian structures near the marketplace.

The boy darted through an iron gate into a sprawling estate. Stone walls surrounded a manicured garden where exotic plants thrived despite the volcanic environment. The residence itself rose three stories high, with balconies overlooking the grounds and windows gleaming with actual glass rather than the stretched animal hide common elsewhere.

I settled beside the fence, observing as the child hurried up a winding path toward an elderly female orc waiting on the front steps. Her gray hair was pulled back in an elaborate braid, her clothing fine and colorful compared to the practical garments worn by most enclave residents.

"Where have you been?" Her voice carried across the garden. "You're late again."

The boy's response was barely audible. "I'm sorry, mistress. The market was crowded-"

Her movement was sudden, vicious; a backhand connected with the child's face with enough force to send him sprawling across the stone path. The burlap sack tumbled from his grasp, vegetables rolling across the ground.

"Worthless little rat!" The orc raised her fist again as the boy curled into himself, whimpering.

I moved without conscious thought. My tendrils propelled me over the fence in a single fluid motion, golden metal flashing in the cavern's ambient light. One tendril shot forward, wrapping around the orc's upraised wrist and yanking her backward.

What do you think you're doing? My Mind Speech carried the cold edge of my rage.

The orc's expression shifted from fury to surprise as she stared up at my looming form. Her initial struggle against my tendril ceased as recognition dawned in her eyes.

"The Prophet's guest," she muttered, then straightened her clothing with her free hand. "I was merely disciplining a misbehaving slave. This is not your concern."

Slave?

The word struck me like physical blow. I released the orc's wrist and turned toward the boy. He remained on the ground, tears cutting clean tracks through the dirt on his face. A dark bruise was already forming where she'd struck him. Around his neck, a metal collar gleamed dully in the light. There was an enchanted band etched with runes I recognized as binding magic.

Movement at the house drew my attention. Figures appeared in doorways and windows, drawn by the commotion. Most were orcs in fine clothing, but among them stood humans. They wore simple, threadbare garments, their bodies thin and marked with old injuries. Each bore an identical metal collar.

My mechanical frame tensed, hydraulics hissing as fury built within me. My teeth ground together, the sound audible only to myself as my mind raced with the implications.

"Vardiel."

The familiar voice drew my gaze upward. Elder Yudron stood on a second-floor balcony, his wizened face drawn into a troubled frown. His white-bearded features reflected not anger at my intrusion, but shame; it was the unmistakable expression of someone whose carefully hidden secret had been suddenly exposed.

"Please," he called down, one hand gesturing toward the main entrance. "Come inside. We have much to discuss."

My tendrils coiled tightly around my frame, a physical manifestation of my restraint.

Yes, I replied, the coldness of my mental voice making several nearby servants flinch. Yes we do.

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