"It's not too much farther. Follow along," Roberto said as he bounded several steps ahead.

Berthold shot me a confused look while I glanced around our surroundings. No guards were following us, but his secretary was close in tow.

"Listen, in that video... it wasn't what it looked like," I started.

Roberto stopped in his tracks, turning back to face me. "Oh, no?"

"Exactly, no... So we're not in trouble, right?" I asked.

"Not yet, no," Roberto added, continuing his stride. "But I would like to ask that you not speak, at least for a little bit longer."

Bert and I stayed silent for the rest of our walk, regretting our decision not to flee with every step, following down three different basement levels until reaching a modern-looking elevator. Roberto pulled a key from his pocket, opened the elevator, and confidently strolled in.

"Well?" Roberto asked, gesturing to the inside of the elevator. "I'm not gonna bite."

We followed him into the elevator, and I spun around to face the door out of reflex, Berthold following my lead after a pause.

"Carter, come and get us after no more than two hours."

"Yes, sir."

As the doors shut with his assistant on the other side, Carter's visage shifted rapidly from that of a short, frail blonde woman to Roberto's likeness.

"Neat trick," Berthold commented. "Must be a blast at parties."

Roberto smiled but then put his fingers to his lips for the universal sign of 'shut up.'

Muzak filled the elevator as we rode in silence. The elevator headed downward, occasionally shifting to the left or right.

"This is it," Roberto said, accompanied by a ding from the elevator's systems.

Roberto confidently strolled out of the elevator into a warehouse with dozens of workers tooling around individual projects. The projects ranged from vehicles to modern household appliances.

"Follow me, gentlemen," Roberto advised, leading ahead of our group.

Roberto's office below was much less extravagant than his one above. A large conference table lay splattered with blueprints and other assorted paperwork.

"So, Mersault," Roberto started, with a sly smile across his face. "Who summoned you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"You called the recording a video, got into the elevator correctly, and there's something about you. I haven't felt it much since I've been here, but it's almost like running into someone who grew up in the same town."

"Yeah, I know what you mean," I replied, defeated.

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"So, who summoned you? Unfortunately, I was summoned by Unbat, but I'm sure you already knew that."

"I don't know who brought me here. I was just... suddenly here."

"Okay, well, let us take a look," Roberto replied.

Roberto is using his Unique Skill: Extrinsic Inspection.

I had seen the skill used only once before by a valuator employed by the Crafter's guild. It was similar to my Unique Feat: Information Broker, except with a few more caveats. It allowed the user to develop an inherent understanding of one person, place, or thing within observable range. While the information given might be more specific than what I'd receive with my ability, Broke's coverage was far more impressive. Based on Broke's description, the skill required a close observable target. While Broke has much more information readily available, you have to ask the right question.

"Wow, talk about a powerhouse," Roberto said, observing my status. "But yeah, a Numen summoned you... It just doesn't seem like it's any I know about."

"Maybe Inklin or Qalt?," Berthold suggested.

"No, I'm familiar with the symbols for the 12 Numina. This one is… different," Roberto replied.

"You said it was unfortunate Unbat summoned you. Why is that?" I asked.

"It makes sense that you wouldn't get it. There's a reason they call us Taken," Roberto replied. "They summon us as tools. All the pampering in the world can't erase that fact. I don't care if they're the nicest person in the world. I don't belong to anyone."

Roberto exited the conference table and headed toward his factory's floor.

"I was an engineer," Roberto said. "Before all of this, I mean."

"I was a tailor," I replied, thinking of how my former skillset affected my current one.

"So, how did you make all of this?" Berthold asked, gesturing to the massive underground warehouse.

"An ability I received when I arrived here. It's not as flashy as some martial skills I've seen. But as you'll see, it's useful enough."

Roberto set out a sheet of paper. Detailed notes filled the page, while schematics filled the margins. As he signed the bottom, the paper rolled in on itself, and Roberto handed it to me.

He just used the Unique Skill: Compulsory Blueprint.

Broke described it as a teaching instrument. Compulsory, precise instructions for the construction of whatever the designer designates.

"Just read it?" I asked.

Roberto nodded while Berthold shot me a skeptical look.

I broke the seal, opening the blueprint. I expected arcane sigils or unearthly eldritch text. Instead, the sheet was completely blank.

"Is this a joke or something?" I asked Roberto.

But instead of seeing the two men I was standing with and the bustling factory warehouse around us, I looked out into a deep white expanse of nothingness. All that filled this space was me, and a table sat before me, tailors tools and a pair of pants lay on the surface alongside a note that read, '31" inseam please.'

Being a simple enough task, I picked up the pants and focused on splitting and reforming the threads to the perfect length. However, the pants remained undisturbed instead of moving with my will as usual. I picked up my tailor shears and hoped I hadn't gotten rusty.

It took me significantly longer to finish these pants without my abilities, but still only about fifteen minutes. I hung the pants on a rack that seemed to have materialized out of thin air, then lifted my arms into the air expectantly.

"Well? Did I pass?" I asked the void.

I awoke to Berthold shouting while hoisting Roberto into the air with two sets of arms.

"Bring him back!" Berthold shouted.

"Bert, it's fine," I stated, picking myself up.

A revolver sat on a table in front of the three of us. I picked up the gun tentatively, feeling the heavy metal pulling the gun back toward the ground. I had never been a fan of guns in my past life, so having a hand in making them for this world filled me with disgust.

"Roberto, why?" I asked.

"Sorry, you might have said no if I told you what it was..." Roberto replied. "I brought you here because I need your help."

"Yeah, and you got a gun out of it. Glad I could help." I replied sarcastically.

"No, the gun is only for my protection. For what's to come in the future. Mersault, I need you to help me kill a God."