The world blanked and I came back into awareness later, knowing that time had passed, but not knowing how much. I pulled my hands away from my head, revealing my palms stained red with where they had touched my forehead. The pain was gone, yes, but the erg around me felt thicker somehow, more tangible, as if though I was stuck at the bottom of a still lake. I could push through it, but everything felt slower.

[General Skills Unlocked:

Diplomatic Relationship Management

Erg Manipulation I]

I blinked away the notification, but pondered those new skills. The first one, Diplomatic Relationship Management, felt awkward in my head, like it was not something I was meant to have. Yet, that must have been what I had used to designate the target dummy as an enemy.

That second skill, though, that was even stranger. It felt more natural to my body erg’s circuitry, but yet it pressed and it pulled at my channels in ways that they weren’t really ready for, sending the occasional jolt of pain as I pushed too hard on the skill. Eventually, I realized that this skill was the reason for my sluggishness and I willed its effect to end. The air thinned suddenly and I nearly dropped to the ground from my lack of buoyancy.

Part of me wanted to continue playing around with these new skills, but a glance up at the now setting sun told me that I had less time than I desired to get that practice in. If I missed a second meeting, then that would look much worse for me, and I still hadn’t tested out the Wyrd spike against an actual enemy target.

I took aim with the spikethrower once again, bringing my aim up against the target, and loosed a single spike. I winced as I realized that I mis-aimed, my shot going wide. In mid-air, though, spike’s path curved visibly. Instead of going wide, the spike wound up punching straight through the torso of the dummy, pinning it to the tree. This homing ability was certainly promising, but it seemed a bit lacking for a concept as broad as Wyrd. Though, if homing was the ability granted to Wyrd ammo, perhaps there was something to the attunement that lended it the ability to bend towards a required end.

Further experimentation would have to wait though, as the sun continued to set -bringing the sky the vivid purples of twilight- and I really couldn’t afford to be late. I stored my gear and returned to the main area, thankfully arriving in the lobby before too many other people had arrived.

Apparently word that there would be discussion about Hank had spread widely, which led to nearly everyone being present in the lobby for the meeting, overloading the seating and leading to people sitting on the floor and standing against the walls. The center of the lobby was devoted to the representatives: Karla, Edith, Jen, Marlene, and myself. The rest pressed in close, eager to hear our arguments.

Seren started by reading the notes from our talk with Hank, keeping commentary out for now, but simply reciting the text of the conversation. Before the discussion could begin in earnest, they did bring in their commentary, offering their perspective on the conversation from having seen it first hand, and how they felt about Hank’s words and actions. Then the arguments began, quiet at first but with an increasing fervor, with the onlookers tossing in their commentary as well.

Honestly, it was chaos for about half an hour. Those that had been held under Chad clearly had this tight tangle of emotions from that time, which was only now beginning to slowly unravel thanks to the comforts of the factory, and that unraveling fueled the energy of the discussion, using the debate as an outlet for the pains that they could not voice. I did not attempt to steer the conversation, merely acted as a stabilizing presence, the inanimate carbon rod of this nuclear reaction.

Once that initial burst of emotion was expended though, then the true conversation could begin. The usual arguments surrounding capital punishment were played, the consequentialist versus the deontological debates, the right to life, the danger of the accused, retribution versus restoration. For many people present, these arguments were entirely new, but for me, they were things I had thought long and hard about throughout my life up until now, that I had honed on the internet into sharp blades.

In the end, the matter was settled.

With the subject of Hank resolved, to some degree of satisfaction, most of the onlookers left the lobby to pursue their own labor or rest. The remainder of the meeting turned to practical matters that lacked in the ideological fervor of the previous debate. Thanks to Sahar, a [Painter], we had a map of the area around the factory, out some distance. The map was a truly massive construction, its long edge covering the short edge of the lobby floor when rolled out.

After the issue with the conveyors and the farm placement, I wanted to make sure that similar issues didn’t happen in the future. We divided up the map into areas for specific projects, plotted major expansions of the walls, designated routes for conveyors and for transit. From there, we moved onto a discussion of necessary equipment for every team, drawing up lists of needed materials for that equipment.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Finally, we received an update on Chad’s activities. It seemed that his group was still maintaining their patterns of combing through their surroundings, not making any direct movements towards the factory. Content that we still had time to prepare, we broke the meeting for the night. I did what I had needed to do for a long time and went up to the Entertainment Center, picked up my favorite book from the collection there (The House of Leaves) and sat down for a long read.

I almost didn’t notice Seren coming in and sitting next to me. They had acquired a copy of The Wizard of Earthsea and read quietly with me. Both of us were engrossed in our books, and the comfort of each other’s presence. Eventually, they leaned over and rested their head on my shoulder, but beyond that, the stillness and the joy of the texts was more than enough to sustain us as the hour grew late enough that sleep beckoned.

The next week passed in a blur, as the internal conflicts were smoothed beneath the mill of the necessary work. The first bean harvest was a radical success, the stalks growing at a prodigious rate thanks to erg and system assistance, yielding another, even more sumptuous feast. The new fighters had taken to hunting in the surrounding woods, so there was a ready supply of meat to go along with the beans, which supplemented berries and mushrooms gathered by Ai. After the first bean harvest, the fields continued to expand, growing more and more varied in their foods.

A large expansion was added to the south of the crater, set aside specifically to be an orchard, with Kayla (an [Orchardist]) setting to work on planting a large number of trees. While the first harvest there was months away, the promise of apples and oranges was enough to whet everyone’s appetites. With new expansion also came new mines and another two erg condensers, which helped to increase the number of autorifles deployed.

The manufacturing team largely put their weight behind the farming team, but a few helped me out in getting the fighters prepped. Everyone got armor, despite their complaints that they didn’t need any. Still, using largely air ingots and focusing on my Light Armor skill provided sufficiently light-weight gear for everyone that provided at least some protection from attacks. Unfortunately, this armor didn’t benefit from my Power Armor skill, but it was still better than nothing.

Everyone’s weapons got upgrades, even the freshly built Big Irons, thanks to my insights into the Wyrd. My spikethrower got retired finally, replaced with a dedicated grapple hook launcher system, one launcher permanently deployed onto each side of my hips. My power armor system generally got a complete overhaul, especially since I picked up a few perks to help in the coming battle. Indeed, everyone devoted time and resources into leveling up. While the non-combatants wouldn’t be able to do much, they at least were able to help create higher quality gear and defenses.

The stress slowly began to increase as the days passed, the uncertainty of when Chad would attack rising in the back of everyone’s mind. As we slowly ran out of things we could do to prepare, the meetings grew increasingly terse. More people spent time in the Entertainment Center, trying to find something to fill the waiting besides worrying. Terry had taken up putting on impromptu flute performances, and I had given Sahar permission to paint murals on the walls, adding brightness to the rather stark interior of the factory.

It was then almost a relief when the message came from Sarah that Chad’s men had gathered up and were heading our way. Judging from their rate of approach, we still had about two hours before they arrived, but the defenders moved into position anyway. We had long discussed our plans for how to handle this attack, those discussions having gone long into the evening earlier in the week.

It seemed that Chad was planning his attack to arrive at noon, likely thinking that with his newfound strength, he would have no need for stealth or subterfuge. The additional visibility would suit our plan just fine. The defenders moved into position on the top of the extended and raised walls, looking down at the forest to the north, looking for any sign of approach, despite the wait ahead of us.

I looked over each of those standing with me. Jen wore her braced greaves, her steam-powered gauntlets (which now went to her elbows), and a light breastplate of that blue air metal. Artemis had her armor on beneath her camo-cloak, and kept her rifle out and ready, the only major difference there was a bronze sight that had been added to the rifle’s top. The new fighters were mostly attired in similar armor to Jen, except for Stacey who wore a set of robes inlaid with delicate fibers fashioned from focus crystals. This robe synergized with the staff that she carried, allowing it to enhance her erg attacks.

Ty, meanwhile, had ice attuned daggers, wanting to be able to counter the greatest threat of the enemy group. Raven’s Big Irons hadn’t received much of an alteration, but she did have a wide stock of different elemental bullets and the barrels had been replaced with air metal in order to enhance accuracy at a distance. Finally, Aria has a massive quiver of javelins, of varying elements, strapped to her back. Using a new skill I had gained, the quiver would be able to return javelins to it after they were thrown.

Then there was me. To an outside observer, my setup looked the same as it had been during the rescue mission, save for the lack of my spikethrower. My armor plates had been reforged though to take advantage of my increased skills, and my drill had a completely reworked internal design, despite it appearing the same on the outside. The most important changes to my loadout, though, were still hidden. I needed to be able to have some surprises up my sleeve, and the autorifles would serve well enough as an opening volley for the coming battle.

The wait extended and extended, until Sarah’s voice crackled in our ears. “Contact in ten minutes.”

I activated my erg sight and gazed off into the forest, seeing those bright signatures approaching with a growing speed, moving from a march to a jog. I gripped the palisade in front of me, the coming of the battle flaring such conflicted feelings in me. “They’re almost here. Everyone ready?”

As the other defenders nodded, I toggled the designation of the attackers to Enemy.