It was not a room but more of a virtual room—a 3D chat room. Rather than being creative and full of interesting things that someone spent hours designing to show off to their friends, this room was spartan, boring, and full of dark, shadowy avatars.

It was difficult to count the number of people, or beings, present, for not everyone seemed to be strictly what a normal person would consider a person.

Roldrie, High Magister of The Diamond Phoenix Tribe, was the last to arrive, and as his avatar formed, silence filled the virtual room.

Impatiently, Xuuks, a Mercenary Lord of The Middle Paw Children, growled, "You dared summon us, and you are late. That disrespect needs to be addressed."

Roldrie silenced Xuuks's form, "Silence, fool. You speak of disrespect, yet you speak before your betters. You know why we are here, and you know why I am late. That traitor Rulzoff-Urd. He has cut support to our mission at a time when we are failing. There will be no reinforcements."

Groq'ils, the Mercenary Leader of Zeta Rho, spoke up, "You told him we have lost three of the seven bases?"

"If we don't curb the human occupation and expansion, they will challenge our minor settlements on that landmass. They stole our regional capital stone. Already, they control close to 1/5 of the continent."

Groq'ils snarled, "Let them take it. We need to stop the blight before it takes us all."

Roldrie laughed, "You say that, yet who is closest to the breaches?"

"You know damn well that my forces are being decimated if I had more support .."

"If you want our support, then contribute to the alliance and don't suggest abandoning others," Apha, the Royal Vizier of The Berserk Coyote Kin, growled, thumping his dark, indistinct form.

"How dare the Coyote Kin speak." A voice spat with scorn and derision, "You have lost Territory to natives. Concentrate on subjugating your Territory, and then you can speak amongst your peers. Who lost the stone before this cursed integration began."

"Enough." Roldrie bellowed. "I was appointed senior .."

"Only because your progenitors bribed …" Xuuks began before he vanished.

Roldrie flicked his hand, "He will be back. We can't be bickering now. Apha, Groq'ils you are in need, but we have been cut off, and there are irregularities that we all face. This council is to make sure we all don't fail. What are our losses so far?"

Some numbers, some low, some higher, were called out.

After a pause, Roldrie spoke with a sense of gravity, "Overall, 55% of our resources have either been destroyed or taken from us—two entire territories overrun, one stolen before we began and 12% of the rest. Rulzoff cut us off because this has become the worst investment in our expansion history. You all know what happens if we fail."

"The Warlord has not performed The Rite of Tildah, the burn of cleansing in generations."

"We cannot return or surrender, so we must succeed."

Xuuks returned, and he nodded with a scowl at Roldrie.

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"What do we know about the blight?" Xuuks asked as if nothing had changed.

Dhuuddats, Prime Patriarch of the Honourbound Alliance, a scholar, rarity amongst Karass, for these were indeed Karass leaders, spoke softly, "Ather Blight. The last reported encounter was with an Empire outpost over 4,500 years ago. They reported a total loss of the planet. It has been off the grid since then. There is nothing in the Holy Athenaeum records. All we know is that anything below Tier 2 is instantly infected, Tier 3 fodder is 30% resistant, and our Tier 4 soldiers are close to 50% resistant, and we have no baseline for Tier 5."

"That is over three-quarters of our forces. Rulzoff refused to send a Strategic Asset. He claimed we could not afford the time, energy or disgrace to require one of the Warlords Elite."

"Those damn slavers will leave if we cannot guarantee their safety. I warned you, Apha, we could have done this ourselves. Our reports say they have processed nearly two billion units, and we are waiting for delivery to each of our remaining territories. If they leave with them, it will ruin us. We need those resources. The Warlord expects 30% of them."

Apha smiled for the first time, "I request energy and training cores. My Territory is furthest removed from the Blight. If we process all of them in my Territory, we can fast-track them. With the resources, we can guarantee a basic Tier 3 class, and Tier 2 racial upgrade, inferior to our forces, but overwhelming numbers count."

"As long as you don't break them or only break yours. We don't need mindless berserkers. The Honourbound need thinkers, mages and scholars."

There was some nodding, and some laughed.

"An agreement, all native stock will be sent to be trained in Apha's Territory. Anyone who wishes to have some stock will contribute to their training with energy and cores. Three local months, and they will be sent out. If the slavers betray us or try to renege on our deal, then The Diamond Phoenix Tribe will deal with them. The idea of natives fighting natives amuses me. That should help deal with the unwanted expansion. Apha, you have six local months to reclaim the settlement cores and return to our schedule. Now to the Blight."

Dhuuddats spoke again, "It spreads similarly to a Mana Blight, yet it is resistant to all treatments. Killing the host does not destroy the parasite. Using the native's nuclear response only strengthened it. It was a risk, a foolish one which Husni paid for, his engineering corps are a sore loss to our efforts. The barrier was weakened, and the incursion is now an invasion of his former Territory. The stone was destroyed, Tier 4 and Tier 5 beings were reported. It has also contaminated some Void and Chaos incursions. Ones we have no agreements with, and if we did, well, they are now Aether Blight infected."

Some murmuring and quiet payment of respect for their fallen peer filled the pause before Dhuuddats continued, "Our only saving grace is the damn low energy on this cursed planet. The fluctuations are off the charts. The best-simulated models show similar fluctuations when Transcendence and Dimensional Weavers are present."

"Impossible. A Weaver would have broken the barrier beyond repair. Although there was that unknown energy surge …"

"We have approached Nislebak, the betrayer, to investigate, but his allegiance and motives are not always ours. Let us hope that the costs are worth it."

Roldrie didn’t look happy. "We need information, Dhuuddats. Send scholars and researchers to Groq'ils. In two months, we will reconvene unless you find something urgent."

A chorus of "Agreed", some bitter, some angry, but most sounded resigned.

One by one, the beings left until only Roldrie remained.

A voice spoke out of the empty room.

Roldrie knelt.

"It is not enough. You must investigate the Empire's presence. There are rumours that the Empress is on this planet. She must not survive. An abomination is arising, one that must not succeed. It calls itself IPC. Seek it and destroy it before it joins the ranks of the Ascended."

"Master, you ask the impossible; there is no Energy, no resources. Our brethren are weak, greedy, and setbacks..."

"WORM! I did not ask for excuses." There was a pause, and the voice was softer. "I imagine asked the impossible. This integration is impossible. I leave you one open contract with The Judgement, and I have diverted Phenomenon Booth to assist. She will take control of this Integration, and you will work with her. You know no one will survive her if you don’t comply. I must have this planet. You saw what lies at its heart."

Roldrie shuddered, "Nightmares and demons, Master."

"Power and glory."

Roldrie felt fear and sickness.

"Do not let me down."

The room was empty.