The workshop dissolved into frantic, controlled chaos. Borgrum didn't hesitate. Years of ingrained dwarven emergency protocols, perhaps honed during the forgotten conflicts hinted at in Thrain's archives, took over.
"Flint!" Borgrum roared, already moving towards a heavy weapons locker bolted to the far wall. "Seal the workshop! Activate internal defenses, protocol Gamma-Nine! Secure the Disruptor prototype – power down the core matrix safely!"
"Yes, Master!" Flint, pale but focused now, scrambled towards the main console, fingers flying across control panels, initiating lockdown sequences. Heavy metal shutters slammed down over viewing ports, reinforcing the main door. Internal energy fields hummed to life around critical equipment, including the Resonance Key prototype.
"Borin will have sealed this level," Borgrum growled, pulling out a heavy, rune-etched warhammer – clearly his personal weapon, far more formidable than the forge hammer he usually wielded. He also grabbed a compact steam projector sidearm. "But containment might not hold if those Lurkers get up here, or if the hunters decide to phase through." He checked the pressure gauge on the steam projector. "We arm ourselves."
He tossed Lunrik the heavy Boar's Tooth axe again. "You fought with this. You keep it." He then rummaged in the locker and produced a dwarven crossbow, identical to the one Kaelith now carried, and a quiver of heavy bolts. "Know how to use one?"
"Enough," Lunrik confirmed, Alaric's memories supplying basic proficiency. He quickly slung the quiver and checked the crossbow's mechanism, the solid weight a small comfort. But his mind was screaming: Kaelith! Down there! Fighting!
"Master Borgrum!" Flint called out from the console, his voice tight with alarm. "Internal sensors show… chaos in Sector eighty-nine! Multiple energy discharges – dwarven and hunter signatures mixed! And… massive bio-readings fluctuating wildly! The Lurkers are fully active!"
"Can you raise Korgul's team?" Borgrum demanded, striding back towards the comms. "Or Fendril? He was monitoring!"
Flint frantically tried different channels. "Negative, Master! All comms from the Lower Deeps are dead! Heavy interference, likely from the energy discharges or seismic activity! Or…" he swallowed hard, "…the emitters are destroyed."
Lunrik felt ice grip his heart. No contact. Kaelith, Fendril, Korgul, Eryndor – all potentially caught in a three-way battle against Lurkers and hunters, deep underground, with no way to call for help or report their status.
"Blast Thrain's containment protocols!" Borgrum slammed his fist on the console again. "Sitting up here waiting while ancient horrors and phasing wraiths slaughter our people below!" He looked at Lunrik, his eyes burning with a frustration that mirrored Lunrik's own desperate urgency. "The Resonance Key… it's our only potential weapon against the hunters' tech. But it's untested beyond the lab!"
"We have to try!" Lunrik urged, stepping forward. "We have to get down there! Kaelith-"
"Is a capable warrior!" Borgrum cut him off gruffly, though his expression softened fractionally. "But facing Lurkers and hunters? Even she has limits." He made a decision, swift and decisive. "Flint! Forget powering down the prototype! Bring it online! Integrate the handheld emitter assembly – now! Skip the final diagnostic checks!"
Flint's eyes widened in shock. "Master! Without full calibration? The feedback loop could be catastrophic! It could detonate!"
"And leaving Korgul's team and Fendril to die is already catastrophic!" Borgrum retorted. "If those hunters secure whatever they're after down there, or if the Lurkers breach the upper levels because Thrain was too cautious, Grimfang itself is threatened! Sometimes, lad, you have to risk blowing up the forge to save the mountain!" He pointed towards the humming prototype. "Do it! Key it to the werewolf's Stigma! Now!"
Flint hesitated for only a second, then nodded grimly, his hands flying across the assembly, connecting the final power conduits from the stabilized core matrix to the handheld emitter Lunrik had used in the calibration chair, bypassing safety interlocks Borgrum himself had likely installed earlier. Sparks flew as he worked, the air crackling with raw, barely contained energy.
The workshop lights flickered violently as Flint rerouted power. The low tremor Lunrik had felt earlier intensified into a distinct, jarring shudder that ran through the floor, rattling tools on the benches.
"Seismic activity increasing!" Flint shouted over the noise. "Stress fractures detected in tunnel supports on levels eighty-eight and eighty-nine! Whatever they awoke down there… it's affecting the mountain's structure!"
"All the more reason to act!" Borgrum roared back. He checked his warhammer's grip. "Lunrik! When Flint gives you that emitter, you answer to me, not Thrain, not Borin! Our objective: locate survivors, neutralize hunter threats using the Key only when necessary, extract if possible. Fendril knows the back ways; he might still be operational."
"Ready, Master!" Flint announced breathlessly, holding out the now fully assembled Resonance Key. It hummed ominously, pulsing faintly with contained power, feeling far more alive, more dangerous, than before. The grip sensor designed to interface with Lunrik's Stigma glowed with a faint, internal light.
Lunrik took the weapon, its weight familiar yet charged with terrifying potential. He clipped the power pack Flint handed him to his belt, the connecting cable feeling like a leash to Borgrum's desperate gamble.
"Right!" Borgrum hefted his hammer. "Flint! Maintain lockdown here! Monitor comms! Try to raise Fendril or Gate Command if the interference clears! And if anything that isn't dwarf or this werewolf tries to get through that door…" he patted his steam projector sidearm, "…give 'em a face full of pressurized geothermal regret!"
Flint nodded, his face pale but determined, already moving to secure the workshop's defenses.
"Let's go, werewolf," Borgrum growled at Lunrik. "Time to see if dwarven ingenuity and cursed blood can punch a hole through this echoing nightmare."
He strode towards the secondary access panel Flint had revealed earlier, the one leading into the service tunnels. He wrenched it open manually this time, revealing the dark, narrow passage. Without a backward glance, Borgrum plunged into the darkness, his warhammer held ready.
Lunrik hesitated for only a heartbeat, the Resonance Key humming strangely against his hip, the weight of the axe heavy in his other hand. He was descending again, back into the terrifying depths, armed with an unstable weapon, accompanied by a grumpy Artificer on a rogue mission, heading towards unknown horrors and the faint, desperate hope of finding Kaelith alive. The fracture point had been reached; now came the plunge into the abyss. He followed Borgrum into the suffocating darkness of the service tunnel, the frantic pulse of the mountain echoing his own chaotic heartbeat.