The morning after Ban's arrival began with a new sound: contented sighs after breakfast. The usual mush had been transformed into a savory grain porridge, using crushed wild seeds the goblins had collected. It had actual texture. It was a small thing, but it changed everything.
Kazuto was reviewing Mavis's updated project slate—now including "Vertical Garden Phase 1" and "Aqueduct Feasibility Study"—when a hesitant cough sounded behind him.
It was Doom. He looked uncomfortable. "It's the prisoner. The first one."
"What about it?"
"It's… trying to talk."
The golden cube containing the mine overseer had been somewhat forgotten in the flurry of new arrivals and construction. It still sat in its corner, but now a small, flat rock sat just inside the barrier. On the rock were several small pebbles, arranged in a pattern.
Kazuto walked over. The overseer was pressed against the barrier, watching him. Its earlier fury was gone, replaced by a sharp, calculating intensity. It pointed a clawed finger at the pebbles.
Kazuto looked. The pebbles were arranged in two groups. A large pile, and a small pile. The overseer pointed from the large pile to the small pile, then made a sweeping motion with its hand, as if wiping the small pile away. Then it pointed east, the direction of the Black Phoenix's domain.
Mavis had followed. She crouched, studying the arrangement. "It's a crude tally. A large force. A small force being removed." She looked at the overseer. "You're telling us the main force is coming. And the scouts, the small force… have been removed?"
The overseer nodded once, sharply.
"Why warn us?" Kazuto asked.
The creature's lips peeled back in something that wasn't a smile. It pointed at its own chest, then at the cube around it, then made a wiping-away motion again. I am here. If they come and wipe you out, I am still here. In a box. Forever. It then pointed at Kazuto and made a gesture like something expanding. You are growing. You are a problem. Problems get the full attention.
It was a selfish, pragmatic warning. It didn't want to be forgotten in a box if Delivery was turned to ash.
"When?" Mavis asked.
The overseer shrugged. It pointed at the sky, then made a slow, descending arc with its hand. Before the sun crosses the sky that many times? It held up three clawed fingers.
Three days. Maybe.
« NOTICE: INFORMATION FROM DETAINED HOSTILE ENTITY CORROBORATES PRIOR THREAT ASSESSMENTS. CREDIBILITY: MODERATE. »
"It could be lying," Doom muttered.
"It could," Mavis agreed. "But the timing fits the scouts' report. And it has no reason to lie about a larger force coming. Only to trick us about when."
Kazuto looked at the overseer. It stared back, unblinking. A prisoner giving a heads-up about its own side's attack to avoid being collateral damage. It was the most bizarre act of self-preservation he'd ever seen.
"Alright," he said. "We operate on a three-day clock. Mavis, what's our biggest vulnerability inside the dome?"
"Panic," she said immediately. "And the gate. The entrance barrier is a single point of conceptual failure. If they have a skill that can unravel magic, that's where they'll focus. Also, our food supply is still external. A siege works by starvation."
"Okay. New priorities. One: secure the entrance. Two: stockpile as much food as possible. Three: prepare people not to panic."
He turned to the overseer. "You want to be useful? What's coming? What does the 'full attention' look like?"
The overseer thought for a moment. It picked up two pebbles. It placed one on the ground and covered it with its hand, miming something growing from underneath. It placed the second in the air and mimed something falling with a whoosh.
"Siege weapons?" Mavis guessed. "Boring from below? Projectiles from above?"
The overseer nodded. It then made a motion like spreading its arms wide and breathing out. Fire. Lots of fire.
"Great," Doom grumbled. "They're going to dig under us and rain fire on us."
"They can't dig under the dome's foundation," Mavis said, tapping her slate. "The barrier extends underground in a spherical matrix. I calculated for that. But the entrance tunnel in the gully… that's a separate structure. It could be vulnerable to subterranean attack."
Kazuto's mind raced. He couldn't make the dome or the wall thicker with his mind. It was at its limit. But he could add… accessories.
"We need a doorbell," he said.
Doom and Mavis stared at him.
"Something that tells us if they're messing with the entrance, and something that makes it really annoying for them." He looked at the rocky ground. "And we need to move the trade pile inside. Now."
The next hours were a controlled frenzy. Under Ban's direction, every edible thing the goblins had in their hidden caches was brought into the dome—roots, nuts, dried berries, smoked strips of mysterious meat. It wasn't enough for a long siege, but it was something.
Kazuto worked on the "doorbell." At the gully entrance, just outside the main barrier, he created a new series of small, sensitive barrier plates in the earth. They weren't walls. They were like pressure plates, connected to his awareness. If something heavy stepped on them or tried to dig through them, he'd feel a faint ping in his mind.
« NOTICE: PERIMETER ALARM SYSTEM ESTABLISHED. SENSITIVITY SET TO 'HEAVY DISTURBANCE.' »
Then, he got creative. Along the ceiling of the gully, just before the entrance, he created dozens of small, smooth, barrier spheres. They were nestled in crevices. They were rigged to a simple trigger: if his main entrance barrier was struck with significant force, they would all be released.
He tested it with a large rock thrown by Balmond. The rock hit the main barrier with a thud. Instantly, the ceiling of the gully released a clattering, bouncing, utterly harmless avalanche of perfect, indestructible marbles. They filled the gully floor, rolling and clacking chaotically.
Balmond watched the marbles cascade. "What… is that supposed to do?"
"Try to walk through it," Kazuto said.
Balmond took a step into the gully. His boot slid on the marbles. He windmilled his arms, fighting for balance with a comical expression of outrage, before crashing onto his backside with a heavy grunt.
Doom snorted. Mavis wrote it down. "Low-tech area denial. Creates unstable footing, slows advance, causes psychological irritation. Effective."
"It's a nuisance," Kazuto said, helping a scowling Balmond up. "Not a weapon. But it sends a message: 'Go away. This is annoying.'"
As evening fell on the first of their three-day warning, the atmosphere was tense but focused. They had a plan, however flimsy. They had a little more food. They had a marbles trap.
Elder Leon gathered everyone in the central area. "Fear is the enemy inside the walls," he said, his voice calm. "Your mind will tell you stories of fire and death. Your body will want to shake. This is normal." He took a fighting stance. "So we give the body something else to do. We train. We sweat. We focus on the next move, not the last one. Everyone. Stances."
And so, as the dome's artificial twilight deepened, the entire population of Delivery—dwarves, Balmond, the young kin, even a few brave goblins—stood in ragged lines, holding simple poses. The slow, controlled movements were a meditation. The shared effort was a comfort.
Kazuto stood at the edge, watching. He saw the fear in their eyes, but also the determination. They weren't just waiting for him to save them. They were preparing to endure.
The overseer watched from its cube, its expression unreadable. It had delivered its warning. Now it was just another spectator.
Kazuto looked up at the dome. In three days, it would be tested. Not by goblins or a single berserker, but by the organized, brutal force of a Seat.
He didn't feel like a hero. He felt like a store manager preparing for a terrible audit. The shelves were partly stocked, the security system was weird but functional, and the staff was doing calming exercises.
It wasn't much. But it was what they had.
He took a deep breath and joined the back of the training line, mirroring Elder Leon's movements. One problem at a time. The next problem was in three days. Tonight, the problem was holding this pose without wobbling.