Blake shoveled the last piece of bacon into his mouth before Montgomery could steal it. His friend absently reached for another slice and was surprised when the plate was empty. Montgomery frowned at Blake’s smug grin and then extended his arm towards Jeff’s plate.

Jeff slapped his hand out of the way with a growl and pulled the food closer to himself.

Peter laughed at the display. “We have plenty of bacon if you want seconds, Montgomery.”

“Oh, no thank you,” he replied. “I’m good.”

Blake took a sip of coffee and swallowed his last remnants of food. “If ‘you’re good’, then why do you keep stealing ours?”

Montgomery shrugged. “Just bored, I guess.”

“You know,” Blake’s father put his hands on his hips. “If you’re bored, I can always use some help in the kitchen. I need the splattered grease scrubbed off the stove, some veggies cut for lunch, and the floor needs to be mopped.”

Montgomery’s eyes widened and he hastily replied. “Sorry, there’s no time. We gotta meet up with Dahteste and Rajesh at the goblin portal. If we don’t start soon, we won’t be able to finish two today.”

The volunteer firefighter grasped his friend’s arm and pulled him from his seat. Jeff resisted long enough to collect the rest of the bacon off his plate before he was escorted promptly from the building.

As they left, Peter and Blake chuckled.

He turned to his father and said, “If you need some help around here, I’m sure we can get one of the new workers to help you.”

Peter waved the offer away. “No, I’m fine. I was just messing with him. Although, speaking of messing with him, you might need to sit down and have a conversation with those two and Rajesh.”

Blake frowned. “Is it that bad?”

His father nodded. “If you notice, Rajesh didn’t eat at the table, he just grabbed some food from the kitchen and brought it back to his room.”

“Well, he is a bit anti-social,” Blake explained.

“I’m sure,” Peter agreed. “But, this goes beyond that. “Every time I see them, they’re yelling at each other.”

Blake thought back to how his old team operated. After a moment of reflection, he realized that he had always acted as the team’s diplomat. He solved disputes, mostly between Rajesh and Montgomery, and calmed tempers.

Plenty of heated arguments took place, but in the end, they remained a team. Eventually, hurt feelings or anger evaporated, and they fought against the monsters together.

Should I split them up?

As much as Blake would love to join them and act as an arbiter once again, he knew he could not. The faction towns needed a steady supply of nano to expand, and if he joined them, he would gain a tenth of what he did now.

They also already had a fourth team member, Dahteste. While there was no limit on how many people could team up within a scenario, the Architect reduced nano gains for every person who joined. At first, the reduction was barely noticeable, but after five or six people grouped together, the penalty became steeper.

I wonder if they’re fighting over the Dahteste?

Blake snorted and shook his head.

He was sure her presence contributed to their bickering, but removing her from the party would not fix the underlying issue. No, he either needed to split them apart, or find someone to replace Dahteste who would act as an arbitrator.

Blake sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “I’ll see what I can do.”

His father smiled. “While you’re at it, can you go check on your brother as well?”

Blake tensed. “What’s Oliver done now?”

Peter chuckled. “Oh, nothing bad,” he assured Blake. “But, he’s having trouble making potions, or whatever he does in there. Maybe you can help him out.”

Blake shrugged. “I doubt it, it wasn’t really my thing, but I’ll stop by and see.”

“Thanks, son.”

Blake left the building and strode across the trampled grass field toward the relatively new alchemy workshop. Along the way, he admired the progress they had made. In the week since he established the Payson expansion, their main faction town had exploded with growth. He had not had much time to admire the changes, as he had been busy grinding for nano.

The bunkhouse had been upgraded to level two. It now stood four stories tall, held double the rooms, and looked far less primitive. The windows were glass, each floor had a community bathroom with plumbed water and sewage, every room was now heated, and lights adorned the ceiling.

The bunkhouse finally felt like a real, modern residence, instead of a primitive cabin. Blake could not wait until they upgraded the faction hall to level four. Once that occurred, they could upgrade the bunkhouse again. At that point, it would grow to eight stories, with sixty-four rooms. The entire building would be air-conditioned, not that you really needed it at seven thousand feet, and it would gain an elevator.

Its biggest change, however, would be the small kitchenettes added to every room. They included stove tops and sinks, as well as small enchanted refrigerators. Once every room had a way to store and reheat food, people would no longer have to rely on the cookhouse for their meals. Most would still do so, as it was cheaper, but eventually, you could buy your favorite foods from vendors and eat the leftovers at your leisure.

We’re still a long way from that point.

At the moment, they were still reliant on dollars. Despite the taxes he had implemented, they had no true economy. They functioned as a communist compound, where everything was provided, free of charge.

In another three months on Invasion day, however, that would change. All of their workers would no longer be paid in dollars, and would live in town. By then, they would be self-sufficient, and would earn nano for what they produced.

As Blake approached the alchemy workshop, he heard banging and cursing within. He entered the small structure and saw his brother, Oliver, beat his hands against the table in frustration.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Oliver whirled. “No, it’s not okay!” he screamed. “This is impossible!”

Blake raised his hands and said softly, “Calm down.”

He immediately regretted the words, as his brother’s temper flared higher.

Yeah, that never works.

“How the hell am I supposed to calm down when I can’t even make a simple stamina potion! It’s been almost a week, and I haven’t made shit! It’s just failure after failure!”

Blake sighed. “Well, I don’t know anything about alchemy. Let me summon Metal and see if he can help.”

Oliver huffed. “I doubt it. I know EXACTLY what’s wrong. I just don’t know how to fix it.”

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He frowned as he held off summoning his companion and carefully asked. “What’s wrong, then?”

His brother raised his hands before him. “It’s the Parkinson's! I can’t stop my hands from shaking! It ruins every single potion,” he added bitterly.

“Maybe someone else should be the alchemist,” Blake suggested.

“NO!!” Oliver suddenly yelled. “I can do it! I know I can!”

Blake frowned. “But, you just told me you can’t. Why not let someone else level up first. Once you’re cured, you shouldn’t have any problems.”

“I can make my own damn cure,” Oliver insisted.

Blake ran his fingers through his long hair and sighed. “I understand you’re determined to cure yourself, but I have to think of the big picture. Our combat teams need potions. They’re in danger every day they fight without them. If you can’t provide, then I need someone else who can.”

“Then just upgrade the building so you can make another alchemist,” Oliver suggested.

“We can’t,” Blake shook his head. “We have to upgrade the faction hall to level four first.”

“Then just build another damn level one workshop!”

“No,” Blake replied. “It’s a waste of nano and time. I don’t know how we’re going to build enough bunkhouses by Invasion day as it is.”

Oliver clenched his fists and grunted.

Blake could see how much his brother wanted to succeed. He wished he could give Oliver the time he needed to overcome his disease, but Invasion day was swiftly approaching. They could not afford to go without an alchemist.

After they stared at each other in silence for a few moments, Blake finally broke the awkwardness. “How about this? In a week, I’m going to reach level two. If you can brew a potion by then, you can keep your job.”

Oliver grinned.

“But,” he held up a finger to forestall his brother’s early celebration. “If not, I’m going to have to replace you.”

His brother opened his mouth to argue, but Blake cut him off. “You can try alchemy again when we have an opening, but we need those potions now.”

“Fine,” Oliver grumbled and turned back to the bench. “Then, I’ve got work to do.”

Rather than leave immediately, Blake decided to observe his brother. He leaned against the wall to watch Oliver work.

Oliver reached for a large flask that contained a brown liquid. He slowly poured it into a smaller glass until it was half full, and then sat the beaker over a small flame and waited until it began to boil. Once bubbles appeared within the glass, he filled an eye dropper with another chemical, and squeezed a single drop out of it.

Immediately, a cloud of blue smoke rose from the beaker and the brown liquid turned yellow. His brother nodded to himself and then pulled the beaker from the flame. After he sat the beaker on a hot pad, he retrieved a rod from the bench, took a deep breath, and slowly began to stir the concoction.

As he stirred, the mixture began to thicken and turn color once again. From the bottom up, the yellow liquid transformed into a faintly glowing orange, the color of a stamina potion. After a few minutes, when almost half the beaker was changed, he could tell his brother was excited with his progress. Oliver’s stir speed increased, and the once steady rod faintly shook.

Suddenly, the compound sizzled, and refused to finish its transformation.

After a few more moments, when Oliver was sure he had failed, he banged the table with his empty hands and cursed. “Damnit! I was so close!”

“You were doing fine until you got excited,” Blake noted.

Oliver jumped and whirled around. “You watched the whole thing?”

Blake nodded.

“Yeah,” his brother sighed. “I can keep my hands steady if I concentrate, but as soon as I get distracted, they start to shake and ruin the potion.”

“Sounds like you just need to learn patience.”

Oliver snorted. “You sound just like mom.”

Blake shrugged and turned to leave. As he walked out, he called over his shoulder, “Remember, three days.”

Within the shop, he heard his brother grumble, “No pressure…”

Blake smiled and left to retrieve his spear from his room as he considered his brother.

Oliver had always been impulsive. However, in order to succeed, his brother would need to cultivate patience. If he could learn to keep his composure for long periods of time, it would not only aid him in his alchemy, but in life as well.

He needs this. Hopefully a bit of pressure is just what he needs.

“Blake!”

He was startled from introspection by his mother’s voice.

“Up here!”

His mother waved from the second floor window of her office in the faction hall. When he locked eyes with her, she motioned for him to join her and pulled her head back inside the room.

Blake entered the large structure and climbed the stairs. After he entered her office, he sat down on a plush chair and asked, “What’s up?”

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” she answered.

He groaned.

“Not that kind of bad news,” she assured him.

“Hit me.”

“So, the constructors have finished all the buildings and upgrades needed to bring the faction hall to level four.”

“That was fast.”

“It is,” Donna agreed. “Four constructors really do make a difference. Thanks for grabbing the supplies we needed, by the way.”

To upgrade a building to level three, they needed special materials from specific scenarios. Luckily, he was able to obtain all the supplies they needed from the Arachne portal in Payson and the Lupus portal in Snowflake. The enhanced wolves were fierce and hunted in large packs, but with his advantages, he easily defeated them.

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved her gratitude away. “So, what’s the problem?”

“It’ll cost three hundred and eighty mega-nano to upgrade it.”

Blake winced. Almost all of that would come from him, and would delay his progress to level two by at least four days. “I mean, that sucks, but it doesn’t sound like that big of a problem. It’ll just take us a bit longer, is all.”

“That’s not the biggest issue,” she informed him. “It needs the same special granite you brought us a few days ago, from that portal up in Snowflake. But it specifically says it has to come from a level four scenario.”

“Damnit!” he cursed. “There goes that plan.”

“What plan?” his mother asked.

He quickly filled her in.

In order to defeat a scenario two levels above him, he had tailored his spells and attributes to counter the Manders. That kind of specialization was dangerous in the long run, and he knew it. If you focused too heavily in one area, you left yourself open in another.

However, the decision had allowed him to upgrade his achievement, which gave him another twenty-five percent more attributes. To fix the imbalance, Blake had planned to create a more general, well-rounded build at level two.

That was no longer possible.

Even with his attribute advantage, there was no way he could defeat Lupus two levels above him unless he once again chose his spells and attributes to counter them.

“Why not just wait until you reach level three? Then, you won’t have to specialize, right?”

He shook his head. “I can’t wait that long. We only have a little over three months until Invasion day. I’ll be lucky if I can reach level three before then.”

She frowned. “Why will it take so long?”

“Level one took eight hundred mega-nano to reach,” he explained. “Level two is going to take sixteen hundred, twice that.”

“Is level three going to double it again?”

“No,” he shook his head. “It’ll only cost twenty-four hundred, but my level two attributes cost thirty mega-nano per point. That’s three hundred and sixty for all twelve, and I’ll also have twice as many spells to evolve, so another four hundred.”

“Can we use the faction tax to fund it?”

Blake shook his head. “We can, but it would be pointless. My taxes give the faction more nano than everyone else combined. I could exempt myself, but then we wouldn’t have enough to keep expanding.”

“Then, can’t you just wait till later to upgrade your spells?”

He shook his head. “No, you can only evolve a spell once per level. If you level up, you lose that upgrade chance forever.”

Donna frowned. “Okay, but that’s just a little over three thousand mega-nano.”

He shook his head. “No, that’s just to reach level three. I’ll need to spend another four hundred and eighty on attributes just to be safe.”

“Four hundred and eighty?” she repeated, confused. Suddenly, she realized where he got the number. “Oh, it costs forty million nano to increase an attribute at level three, fifty million at level four, and so on.”

He nodded.

“So, then what, six weeks from now?”

“Don’t forget, I still have another week before I reach level two, so seven weeks,” he corrected her. “But, that also assumes I grind out scenarios every single day for almost two months with no break, I take away the ten percent tax, and don’t contribute nano toward the town.”

Donna frowned. “I see what you mean.”

He nodded. “Yeah. I figure I’ll reach level three just before, or just after Invasion day, depending on how things go. We can’t wait that long.”

His mother sighed. “I suppose we can’t. So, how long will it take you?”

“First, I have to reach level two. That should take about a week. Then, I need to max out my attributes and evolve my spells. Since I’m not going to be fighting above my level, I figure that’s another week and a half. Two, if I add more nano to the treasury,” he added.

“So, three weeks before we can start upgrading the faction hall to level four. I suppose they can start building and upgrading more bunkhouses in the meantime.”

Blake nodded. “Don’t forget the enchanter’s workshop,” he reminded her. “If we get someone who can do the enchantments on bunkhouses and the other upgraded buildings, it’ll cost us a lot less nano to upgrade.”

For the next half hour, they discussed their plans for the town. After they firmed up their schedule, his mother promised to fill in Jessica with the details, and Blake left for the Mander scenario.

He had a lot of work to do, and not much time to do it.