The trail of the vanished Viscount Ashford, increasingly convoluted, had led Alistair Finch – or rather, Ethan Blackwood trapped inside Alistair Finch – to the imposing gates of the Aethelgard Steam Guild. The Guild wasn't just a collective of engineers; it was practically a shadow government, its influence stretching into every aspect of Aethelgard life. From the intricate network of steam-powered trams that crisscrossed the city to the complex ventilation systems in the opulent aristocratic mansions, the Steam Guild's inventions were indispensable.

The gates, forged from blackened steel and adorned with elaborate cogs and pistons, stood as a testament to the Guild's power. A steam-powered contraption, resembling a robotic owl with glowing crimson eyes, scrutinized Alistair as he approached. "State your business, and provide credentials," a synthesized voice boomed from the automaton.

Alistair presented his (borrowed) Liability Investigator credentials. The owl's eyes scanned the card, a whirring sound echoing from its metallic body. "Alistair Finch. Liability Investigator. Reason for entry?"

"I'm investigating the disappearance of Viscount Ashford," Alistair stated, his voice holding a measure of confidence he didn't entirely feel. "My inquiries have led me to believe he may have had dealings with members of the Guild."

The owl remained silent for a moment, its mechanical gears grinding. Finally, it spoke. "Enter. But be warned, Investigator Finch. The Steam Guild tolerates no frivolous intrusions. Tread carefully." The gates hissed open, revealing a sprawling complex of workshops, foundries, and towering structures that seemed to defy gravity with their intricate latticework of pipes and gears.

Inside, the air thrummed with the relentless energy of steam. The clatter of hammers, the hiss of escaping steam, and the rhythmic clang of machinery created a cacophony that vibrated through Alistair's bones. Engineers, clad in grease-stained overalls and goggles perched on their foreheads, hurried past, carrying blueprints, tools, and components of various contraptions. The atmosphere was one of intense industry, a testament to the relentless pursuit of innovation.

He was directed to a reception area, a starkly modern space filled with blueprints and schematics tacked to the walls. A stern-faced woman with spectacles perched on her nose and a severe bun atop her head greeted him. "Investigator Finch, I presume? I am Madam Dubois, Guild Archivist. How may the Steam Guild assist you in your… investigation?" Her tone suggested she doubted any assistance would be forthcoming.

Alistair explained his case, carefully omitting the more improbable aspects of his ability. "Viscount Ashford was known to be an… enthusiast… of new technologies. I believe he may have sought the Guild’s expertise in some… unconventional project."

Madam Dubois’s expression remained impassive. “The Guild handles a great many commissions, Investigator Finch. Unconventional or otherwise. Do you have any specific members you wish to speak with? Any contracts you believe might be relevant?”

He had no specific names. Time to rely on his Lexicon. As he looked around the bustling reception area, his Lexicon flickered to life. He focused on Madam Dubois.

Madam Dubois: Weakness – Prides herself on her impeccable organization and memory; secretly insecure about her lack of formal engineering training; susceptible to flattery regarding her contributions to the Guild's record-keeping system.

Alistair adopted a more deferential tone. "Madam Dubois, your reputation for meticulous record-keeping precedes you. I understand the Guild's archives are unparalleled. Perhaps, with your assistance, I could identify any projects Viscount Ashford might have commissioned that were… outside the norm."

A barely perceptible softening flickered across Madam Dubois's face. She straightened her spectacles. “I suppose I could review the relevant records. However, be warned, Investigator Finch. The Guild's archives are vast. It could take considerable time."

"I understand, Madam Dubois. Any assistance you can provide would be greatly appreciated," Alistair replied, adding a touch of sincerity.

Madam Dubois led him into a labyrinthine archive, filled with rows upon rows of meticulously labeled scrolls, blueprints, and mechanical drawings. The air hung thick with the smell of paper and ink. As Madam Dubois began her search, Alistair used the opportunity to surreptitiously observe the other members of the Guild moving through the archives.

His Lexicon came alive, painting a detailed picture of the individuals around him:

Engineer Thorne: Weakness – Deeply competitive; believes his designs are constantly overlooked; prone to reckless experimentation when trying to one-up his rivals.

Inventor Croft: Weakness – Secret gambling addiction; relies on the Guild's resources to fund his habits; easily manipulated with promises of financial gain.

Master Machinist Elsie: Weakness – Devoted to her family but struggling to care for them; susceptible to guilt if her work compromises their well-being; overly trusting of authority figures.

The Lexicon revealed not just individual flaws, but also simmering tensions within the Guild. The rivalry between Engineer Thorne and another, more established inventor, Master Bellweather, was particularly acute. A power struggle seemed to be brewing beneath the surface of the Guild's seemingly unified facade.

After what seemed like an eternity, Madam Dubois emerged from the stacks, carrying a thick file. "I have found a contract signed by a 'Viscount A.' It pertains to the development of a… 'self-regulating atmospheric filtration system' for a private residence."

Alistair examined the contract. The technical jargon was dense, but he recognized a few key phrases that suggested the system was far more complex than a simple air purifier. He needed to delve deeper. "Madam Dubois, would it be possible to examine the schematics for this project? I'm particularly interested in the design specifications."

"The schematics are held within the Guild's design archives. Access is restricted to Guild members with Level Three clearance or higher," Madam Dubois stated, her tone dismissive.

Damn. Alistair realized he needed to gain access to those schematics. He scanned the room again, his eyes settling on Engineer Thorne.

An idea began to form in his mind. He approached Thorne, who was hunched over a workbench, furiously scribbling in a notebook. "Engineer Thorne, if I'm not mistaken?"

Thorne looked up, his expression wary. "Who's asking?"

"Alistair Finch. Liability Investigator. I'm investigating the disappearance of Viscount Ashford."

Thorne scoffed. "What's that got to do with me?"

"I understand Viscount Ashford commissioned a project with the Guild, a rather… innovative atmospheric filtration system. I'm particularly impressed with the designs; they strike me as being far ahead of Master Bellweather’s recent work."

Thorne's eyes narrowed. "Bellweather? He's a hack! All his designs are derivative. This 'atmospheric filtration system,' you say? Show me."

Alistair carefully showed him the contract. Thorne’s gaze ran over the document, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Impressive. Very impressive. This is… ambitious. Bellweather could never pull this off."

"Precisely," Alistair said, allowing a touch of conspiratorial confidence to enter his voice. "I believe the schematics are even more remarkable. Unfortunately, they are restricted to Level Three clearance."

Thorne slammed his fist on the workbench. "That's ridiculous! I deserve Level Three clearance! My designs are far superior to Bellweather’s!"

Alistair saw his opening. "Perhaps… there's a way I could help you demonstrate your capabilities to the Guild Council. I understand the schematics for this project are stored in the design archives. If I could just get a glimpse of them, I could write a report highlighting the project's… ingenuity."

Thorne hesitated. "That's… risky. If I'm caught accessing restricted files without authorization…"

"I assure you, Engineer Thorne, your involvement would remain strictly confidential. I would simply need a few moments to examine the schematics. Think of it as an opportunity to showcase your talents to the Guild Council. A chance to prove that you are more than deserving of Level Three clearance."

The lure of recognition, the chance to finally eclipse Bellweather, was too tempting for Thorne to resist. He glanced around, making sure they were alone. "Alright, Finch. But be quick. And don't breathe a word of this to anyone."

Thorne led Alistair through a maze of corridors to a heavily guarded door. He swiped a metal card across a reader, and the door hissed open, revealing a vast room filled with rows of filing cabinets containing blueprints and schematics.

"The Ashford project is filed under 'A'," Thorne whispered. "Hurry!"

Alistair quickly found the file and pulled out the schematics. His Lexicon went into overdrive. As he scanned the complex diagrams of pipes, gears, and filtration chambers, he noticed a glaring flaw in the design.

Self-regulating Atmospheric Filtration System: Weakness – The primary filtration chamber is constructed from a newly developed alloy, highly sensitive to sonic vibrations at a specific frequency. Prolonged exposure to this frequency could cause the chamber to shatter, releasing potentially lethal toxins into the atmosphere.

The Viscount had been building a device with a potentially catastrophic flaw. Was it intentional? Was someone trying to sabotage him?

Suddenly, a loud alarm blared through the room. Red lights flashed. "We've been discovered!" Thorne yelled, panic in his voice. "Get out of here!"

They raced back through the corridors, pursued by Guild security guards. Alistair, despite being trapped in Alistair Finch's less-than-athletic body, managed to keep pace with Thorne. They burst out of the design archives just as Madam Dubois appeared, her face a mask of fury.

"Thorne! What have you done?" she shrieked.

Thorne, abandoning all pretense of composure, shoved Alistair aside and sprinted away. Alistair found himself face-to-face with Madam Dubois and a squad of heavily armed security guards.

"Investigator Finch," Madam Dubois said, her voice dripping with venom. "It seems you are more of a liability than an investigator. You have abused the hospitality of the Steam Guild and violated our security protocols. You are hereby banished from these premises. And I assure you, Investigator, this will not be the end of the matter."

Alistair knew he had overstayed his welcome. He had uncovered a dangerous secret, but at a steep price. He nodded grimly. "I understand, Madam Dubois. But I assure you, the truth will come to light. And when it does, the Steam Guild will be held accountable."

With that, Alistair Finch, the reluctant detective, turned and fled, leaving behind the secrets of the Steam Guild and the wrath of Madam Dubois. He had a vanished Viscount to find, a deadly design flaw to expose, and a growing suspicion that the Steam Guild was far more involved in the Viscount’s disappearance than he had initially imagined. The air of Aethelgard suddenly felt a whole lot more toxic.