The interior of the Kavanis Processing Plant felt like stepping into a giant, rusted skeleton. Blake adjusted his stance as his boots crunched against the uneven ground, his sharp gaze scanning the cavernous space. The overhead lights flickered weakly, powered by what Blake guessed were makeshift generators. The air carried a metallic tang, mingling with the faint scent of dampness that clung to every surface.

Eland stood slightly to Blake’s right, his massive frame impossible to ignore even in his relaxed posture. The Stokrine leaned one arm against a corroded metal beam, his other hand resting on the edge of a control panel coated in grime. His expression was calm but alert, those cetacean-like eyes tracking every movement in the room with measured patience. Occasionally, his fingers drummed lightly against the beam, a subtle rhythm that hinted at a mind already calculating potential outcomes.

Across from them stood Mara and Korrn. Mara shifted her weight between her feet, her wiry form coiled with tension that she tried to mask with a steady expression. Her practical braid swung slightly as she gestured toward an old schematic spread across a salvaged table between them. She traced lines with a finger, speaking low and measured but with unmistakable conviction. The scar on her neck caught the dim light as she glanced between Blake and Eland, her gaze lingering on Blake longer than necessary—assessing him, perhaps.

Korrn remained quiet for now, his broad shoulders hunched slightly as though carrying more than just the weight of age and experience. He had one hand braced against the table while his cybernetic hand hovered above it, fingers twitching occasionally as if testing their range of motion. His face bore the weariness of someone who had seen too much and lost too often, but his sharp eyes darted across the group like he was cataloging every word and movement.

Blake crossed his arms over his chest, keeping himself rooted just outside of the table's immediate radius. He didn’t like crowding people during discussions like this; it was better to observe first. His amber-gold eyes flicked from Mara’s detailed explanations to Korrn’s small nods of acknowledgment. Eland’s occasional interjections were calm but deliberate, offering insights without overstepping Mara’s leadership in this particular moment.

"That route," Mara said, tapping a section of the schematic with enough force to make it wobble on its unsteady legs. "If we move through here at nightfall and keep to this side of the plant—" She trailed off briefly when her gaze caught Blake's unwavering stare.

"Go on," he said simply, nodding for her to continue.

Mara hesitated for only half a second before continuing, "We can avoid Rax's patrols entirely if we’re careful."

"‘Careful’ doesn’t mean invisible," Korrn rumbled finally, his voice low but carrying enough weight to still any further assumptions. He straightened slightly from his hunched position but kept one hand firmly planted on the table for support. "You think he hasn’t figured out our patterns by now? That bastard’s got eyes everywhere."

Eland tilted his head thoughtfully before responding in his measured tone. "Patterns can be disrupted if you’re willing to take risks."

Blake caught the faintest flicker of approval in Korrn’s expression at that statement before it disappeared under a mask of pragmatism.

"Risk is fine," Blake said after another moment of silence stretched between them. His voice cut cleanly through the tension without rising above conversational volume. "But let’s not kid ourselves—Rax is predictable because he doesn’t have to be subtle. He knows people are afraid."

Mara nodded slowly, her hands briefly clenching into fists before relaxing again.

"That’s why we need this," she said, gesturing broadly at the makeshift plans spread across salvaged materials, "to give people something else to believe in."

Blake leaned forward slightly, his voice cutting through the murmur of Mara and Korrn’s deliberation. “Alright,” he said, firm but not unkind. “If this is going to work, we need to focus on brass tacks. No more broad strokes. Let’s talk the main assault—how we’re getting in and how we’re taking Rax down.”

The room seemed to still at his words. Blake could feel the weight of their gazes shifting between him and Eland, as if waiting for one of them to claim the mantle of leadership in this moment. His jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t flinch under the attention. He glanced briefly toward Eland, whose calm expression betrayed no discomfort, though Blake knew better.

The memory from the night before surfaced unbidden, vivid and infuriatingly clear.

Aureon’s voice had carried a tone that was almost playful, as though delivering a punchline he alone found amusing.

“Ah, my dear participants! To spice things up and ensure fairness for all viewers—sorry, I mean fairness for all involved—I’ve implemented a fun new balancing mechanism! From this point forward, any attempts to ‘punch down,’ as you say—by which I mean exerting force against those Tiered lower than yourself—will be met with swift consequences. Isn’t that delightful?”

Blake had barely restrained himself from snapping as Aureon continued, detailing the implications with maddening glee. The announcement hadn’t left room for interpretation: Eland’s power, formidable as it was, now came with invisible shackles in this twisted game.

Back in the present moment, Blake’s eyes flicked back to Mara and Korrn. Neither seemed comfortable with the harsh reality that the core of their plans had fallen through. Eland was effectively sidelined when it came to any direct offensive against Rax. None of the scavengers was particularly excited about the idea of facing the cultivator.

That left him.

“I’ll take out Rax myself.” Blake placed his hands on the edge of the table, leaning in just enough to command attention without looming. His voice was calm, measured, but carried a weight that brooked no argument.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The room went silent, the soft hum of flickering overhead lights filling the void left by his words. Mara’s eyes narrowed slightly, her skepticism clear as she folded her arms across her chest. Korrn straightened further, his brow furrowing in thought, while Eland’s head tilted ever so slightly—a silent indication that he was waiting for Blake to elaborate.

“He’s got his enforcers watching everything, right?” Blake continued. “The people closest to him are the ones keeping his operation running—keeping everyone too scared to fight back. That’s where you come in.” He nodded toward Mara and Korrn. “You get them tied up in the field. Spread them thin.”

“And you’re just going to walk into his stronghold while we’re out there kicking the hornet’s nest?” Mara arched an eyebrow, her tone laced with disbelief.

“I’ll infiltrate. Slip past the patrols while they’re focused on your teams and hit him where it hurts—directly.” Blake met her gaze steadily, his tone level.

“Bold plan,” Korrn muttered, letting out a low whistle as he shook his head and threw a glance at Eland. His gaze snapped back to Blake, sharp and steady. “Suicidal if we don’t execute it right.”

“That’s why we’re not winging this,” Blake said sharply, his tone cutting through any lingering doubts. “We’re going to map it out step by step—and I’m going to need every bit of support you can provide.”

“If you want Rax’s elites engaged in the field, you’ll need more than just a distraction,” Eland said, his calm and precise tone cutting through the room. “You’ll need bait—something worth mobilizing them for.”

“Agreed,” Mara said with a nod, leaning over the table as she gestured toward a section of the schematic marked with hand-drawn notes and circles. “If we target these supply depots here and here—locations Rax relies on for resupplying his men—it’ll force him to send reinforcements.”

Korrn grunted in agreement but added cautiously, “Problem is, we’ll have to keep those reinforcements busy long enough for Connover to make his move.”

“That’s where Eland comes in,” Blake said, glancing toward the Stokrine. “Even if you can’t go after Rax or his men directly,” he paused briefly, recalling Aureon’s smug announcement from the night before with no small amount of irritation, “you can still act as mobile support.”

Eland nodded slowly, considering Blake’s words before responding. “I can focus on manipulating the environment—blocking routes, creating diversions—and providing cover when needed.” He gestured toward Mara and Korrn with one large hand. “That should give your teams an edge against Rax’s enforcers.”

“And if things go south?” Korrn asked bluntly.

Blake straightened, his voice steady and resolute. “They will—and when they do, I’ll adapt.” He glanced around the table at each of them in turn before adding firmly, “This isn’t about heroics or one-man shows. It’s about planning and execution.”

----------------------------------------

"Chimera," Blake murmured, his voice low enough not to carry to the others across the room. He leaned against a rusted pillar, the cool metal pressing through the thin layer of his repaired suit. The faint hum of machinery reverberated in the processing plant’s cavernous space. "How’re we looking? Is everything ready?"

"Everything's on schedule," the avatar's voice sounded in Blake's head, clear and sounding pleased. "Your new knife is finished—balanced to your specifications." Blake shifted his weight against the pillar, the cool metal grounding him.

"Also, your ammunition's been restocked; you’re up to three magazines now. And the plating on your suit is fully repaired," it continued. "It should hold up well until the point that it doesn't."

"And what about me?" Blake asked, giving a small nod as his hand absently traced the edge of his holstered sidearm. "What else can I be doing to get ready for this? Anything I’m missing?"

In response, Chimera triggered his pending notifications.

[Experience Gained: Roadwarden]

[Experience Gained: Squad Tactics]

[Experience Gained: Logistics]

"Unfortunately, you’ve otherwise hit a bit of a wall," Chimera said, her tone shifting to something more contemplative. "There’s not much here for you to work with—no real opportunities for a profession, and you’ve already stretched your current skill set about as far as it’ll go without... well, conflict." A brief hesitation lingered before her voice sharpened with meaning. "Dangerous conflict. Novel situations are what you need for growth right now, and I don't know that this is the ideal time for that."

"Okay," Blake said quietly, her words gnawing at him as he folded his arms across his chest. His gaze drifted to the distant figures of Mara and Korrn, who were bent over their tactical maps. After a moment’s pause, he turned his focus inward again, speaking decisively. "But what if I go hunting?"

"...What are you thinking?" Chimera asked cautiously.

"There are a lot of places on Mara's maps marked as dangerous because of wildlife," Blake said, straightening slightly as the stirrings of an idea began to take form.

"This feels like a bad idea," Chimera said immediately, her response immediate and skeptical.

"Oh, definitely," Blake said, rolling his shoulder as anticipation flickered through him despite the clear danger ahead. "But my entire world's gone crazy. I'm stuck in some sci-fi RPG nightmare where leveling up actually matters." A short, humorless laugh escaped him. "When in Rome... do as the Romans do."

"You really want to go out and antagonize a bunch of Ferroghests? Didn't you describe them as industrial meat grinders?"

He gave a short, dark laugh and squared his shoulders. He remembered what he'd said before. Those things had jaws that could crush steel. Limbs that moved like factory robots. And they had one setting: kill anything that moved into their turf.

The rational part of him whispered caution, but it was quickly drowned out by the sharp thrill coursing through his veins. His grin widened as the idea took hold, gaining momentum with every passing second.

"But think about it," he continued, more to himself now than to Chimera. "If they’re that dangerous, imagine what kind of growth I’d see after taking one down. Or better yet—what we could salvage from whatever’s left of them."

"You're disturbingly enthusiastic about this," Chimera remarked dryly. "You do realize they won't just roll over and let you test your theory, right?"

"Nothing worth doing is ever easy," Blake said casually, his smirk sharpening as he rolled his shoulders, loosening up for the fight ahead. The tension in his body shifted—not anxiety, but a coiled readiness that spoke to years of facing impossible odds.

"Okay, it's decided," he said, tone light as he supressed a dark chuckle. He drew his new knife from its sheath, the blade catching a glint of the dim overhead light. "Today it’ll be us doing the grinding."