Lucia's time at the monitoring gamma station was dragging. The stillness was oppressive, punctuated only by the scratch of the pen on paper and the muffled noises from the Yard. She was used to sitting around for a while since she initially did this as a kid, but later on she had to adapt to a life of constantly fighting for her life.
Gaunt, the factotum of the Bridge, felt this too, but as a deep fatigue. Viggo called on him to take two full shifts consecutively, twelve hours in this clean, hotbox office. This was endurance, a reminder that he was both invaluable and redundant. The money came, but Viggo didn't. The man operated in the dark, while Gaunt dealt in the tough truth. A resentment simmered in his brain, his attention beginning to fray.
It was when this new monitor, this quiet one with brown hair and brown eyes, appeared in his open doorway.
"Boss," she said quietly. "May I come in?"
He waved a weary hand. "Enter."
She entered the room with slow steps. The dust particles seemed to move along with her. She stood before his desk with her hands clasped.
"What do you want?" Gaunt asked without looking up from the headache-inducing manifest.
"Well, I... wanted to ask for something."
He sighed, finally lifting his gaze. "And what is that?"
"I would like to review the whole layout. Every sector." Her words were clear, deliberate. "It would make processing the incident reports more efficient. I could direct issues to the correct sub-station faster. Less backlog for your review."
Gaunt's tired eyes sharpened. A flicker of interest. He had assumed she was just another drone. But this was initiative. Practical, bureaucratic initiative. It was exactly the kind of minor optimization a diligent underling might propose to make their own life easier and curry favor.
He studied her. "So you want to tour the sectors? To understand the flow for the reports?"
"Yes," she said, nodding once. "Exactly."
The logic was flawless. A slaving operation was a logistics business. Its core functions were Inventory (slaves), Security (containment), Maintenance (feeding, cleaning), and Transaction (sale/transfer). A detailed map was a management tool. It was for routing human cargo, planning patrols, accessing utilities, and locking down breaches. Giving a trusted monitor a working knowledge of the map would theoretically streamline everything.
It was also exactly what he needed, an excuse to offload the crushing pile of minor incident reports for a day.
"Hold on," he muttered. He turned and rummaged through a locked drawer behind his desk. From it, he pulled out a large, folded parchment, dusty and creased. He'd had it for months, a master schematic of the Granary's guts, but he never used it; he kept the real layout in his head. This copy was obsolete in minor ways, but its fundamentals—the walls, the major arteries, the sectors—were correct.
He slid it across the desk to her. "This is the overview. Do not lose it. Do not mark it. You will return it to me at the end of your shift tomorrow."
Lucia took it, her expression unchanged. "Understood."
"Furthermore," Gaunt said, already stacking a pile of unresolved reports into a tray. "You will hold all non-critical matters requiring my direct review until tomorrow. Filter them. Use the map. Only bring me emergencies.", "I will," she said. Satisfied, Gaunt stood, his bones aching. He gathered his own few personal items. "Lock the station when you leave. I am done for today." He walked out, Also told Lucia to go back to her station while he locked his office, the schematic of hell was now in her hands
The joy in Minna's eyes was a fragile, precious thing, and to watch it dim as he prepared to leave felt like the smothering of a small flame. He kept his voice low-a gentle murmur in the rhythm of her homeland's tongue.
(break scene)
"Minna-chan, mō ikanakereba naranai," he said. I have to go now
Her small hand, clutched with a corner of the honey-stained bread, screwed tight. The desperate plea was in her eyes before it reached her lips. "Mou sukoshi… ite kuremasen ka?" Can't you… stay a little longer?
The raw need in her whisper was a physical weight. But the cold architecture of the Granary pressed in from all sides. He was on a timer. He shook his head, the motion firm but not unkind. "Watashi no jikan wa kimerarete iru. Watashi o mite iru mono mo iru." My time is scheduled. There are also those watching me
Her shoulders sagged, and the deep sorrow of a child who had faced too much loss fell over her like a second skin. He knelt again, bringing his eyes level with hers. He fille
He stepped back out into the grim daylight of the Yard with a tectonic shift inside himself. The meeting with Viggo had been an adjustment, but now he'd peered into the auctioneer's void and taken his measure. The preparatory phase was over: The data was in. It was time to move from observation to intervention. Time to get serious.
The thought was a cold.
And then there was that other thread, silent, lethal constant of his calculations: Lucia. Their meeting was a fixed point in the coming night, a necessary sync. The second horn—the mournful blast that would signal the end of the day's second six-hour shift and plunge the administrative sectors into a quieter, more calm environment.
He went through the rest of his work with an automaton's efficiency. Joshey noticed Lucia's uncharacteristic slouch, the pallor on her face. "You good?"
"Yes." Her reply was instant.
He let it go. For now.
"How did it go with Viggo?" she asked.
He gave her the quick version: he spoke about the humiliation, the bodyguard like a mountain, the bold confession that he'd kill Viggo to get ahead, and the crime lord's amused reaction.
Lucia didn't say Let's kill him. Instead, her eyes narrowed. "Did you learn where Michael is?"
How Un-Lucia of her, Joshey thought. But it was an efficient answer.
"Maybe. When I said Michael hired me, Viggo didn't blink. He accepted it as fact."
Lucia understood instantly. "So Michael isn't a slave. Viggo sees him as still capable. Probably being kept as an asset."
"Exactly. He's being kept somewhere secure, What is the mos secured place you've noticed here?."
"The deep cells. By the strongrooms." Lucia's voice was certain. "The old conduit is our only path. I'll confirm it."
She pushed off the wall, the strain in her movement obvious but immediately controlled. The target was now clear.
"Are you all right to get back alone?"
"I am fine," said Lucia.
Joshey held his gaze for a moment. Then he saw the wall. He nodded sharply and turned his face away.
Lucia walked. There were no sounds on the way to the female handlers' dormitory. A heavy grinding ache had settled in the lower portion of her stomach. She did not slow down.
The room was empty. She removed the metal Handler's tag from her chest and laid it on the table. She unbuckled her sword and laid it against the bed. She lay down on the thin mattress, her eyes open and fixed on the ceiling.
She did not sleep. She waited.
Many hours later, the third horn sounded. It was a low and weighty sound, deep into the night.
Lucia stood up. She picked up her sword, buckled it, and replaced her marking tag on her tunic.
It was time to go. Lucia then headed toward the deeper part of the granary. She had been scouting this area for a long while, and finally decided to take a wild journey into it, careful not to raise an alarm. The whole place was… damned.
She looked at the map, the layout of the entire granary, and thought it would be wise to use it. Eventually, she reached a place that felt like an entirely different world. There were markets, people, and newer, better, more refined layouts. Strangely, this place didn't exist on the map at all.
She quietly folded the map away and thought, "Okay… here goes nothing."