Cal was transported into what looks like a conference room, but more elegant and overbearing. He was surprised by the atmosphere and the other five members in attendance. He turned to face them, but they did not respond.

“Hello?”

Silence. No reaction.

“Cal, I believe this is what is meant by ‘transcript.’”

A small man with antlers walked into the room.

"Ey, preceptors. Only four of you here today, huh. The other five must be thinking what I am. This case is a piece of chordel. Look, I know you have better things to do, you should just dismiss it outright.” He bowed comically, “Miss Bain, as pretty as ever, Mrs. Ca'Chiki, how is that dumpling of a son doing? Preceptor Volemoi - I’ve had a chance to go over your proposal, and I am interested. Preceptor Grey, an honor as always."

Silence again, but the younger human woman smiled warmly.

“Tough crowd. Is this… our lawyer?” Cal interjected.

“My client’s actions are not a threat, how could a mortal have any bearing on Hetar, much less the system. Dismiss it. Not worth my time or yours." The cervidian said, exhaling a stream of smoke from between his lips, "Look, I know the system. This is kidneygarbage. You can’t afford to blow this up.”

"It disrupts the balance," a tall woman with a singular horn replied, her voice steady like calm waters that ran deep. "We must be cautious."

"Disruptive, yes, Elara," said another man, running a hand through his slicked-back hair. Behind him were black wings, as dark as night. "But if we could harness this... transformation from power to faith..."

"Control isn't the issue here, Thorne," an old human man interjected, the lines on his face deepening with concern. "It's about maintaining the system, there are principles. There cannot be loopholes and leeway."

"Principles don't shield us from the unknown, Valkor," A younger woman, also human, added, her eyes alight with a curious spark. "Temp represents change, and change is inevitable." She then looked back at her attendant, “Dara, who is this charming public attorney? He smells like the Horovian bacchanalia, my goodness!”

“That is Joren Abrams, and ma’am, you are on record.”

She looked directly at Cal, smiled, then winked, as if knowing where he would appear when listening to the transcript.

"Change is good Zara, when it doesn't threaten to collapse everything we've built," Elara pointed out, her gaze firm.

"A mortal’s not going to change anything. Look at the Ledger, you’ll pay a giant counterbalance for any action." Joren countered, tapping ash from his cigarette. "Temp is not the enemy. This schaduk honestly might keel over tomorrow."

"This is quite an interesting chair, perhaps I could claim it for myself," Thorne murmured, his tone carrying an edge of excitement laced with danger.

The conference room door swung open with a creak, and all heads turned as a small dwarf strode in. His red hair was a wild cascade over his shoulders, and his eyes sparkled with a mischievous light that belied the gravity of the meeting. Without waiting for an invitation, he flopped down into an empty chair and propped his boots on the edge of the glossy table.

"Zalki, I presume?" Elara's voice cut through the tension like a blade.

"Ah, Preceptor Ca'Chiki," Zalki drawled, "I've been following this damn chair and tracing its system footprints."

"Get to the point, Kendrick," Valkor growled, his patience wearing thin.

"Right to it then," Zalki replied, pushing his boots off the table and leaning forward. "Temp's been funneling attributes into the faith—a nifty trick, if you ask me."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Explain," Thorne demanded.

"Simple, yet genius," Zalki said with a grin. "I recently flagged Temp for unusual title activity, most probably linked to a companion beast, but it appears as though it can shift attributes freely. It’s like alchemy, only it fucked up and gave them away to the faith. Cool if you ask me—only it influences the very fabric of our sector."

"Could others replicate this?" Zara interjected, her voice tinged with concern.

"Potentially, but here's the kicker—" Zalki paused for effect, "—if Temp can feed attributes into the faith, isn’t there a chance they could reverse the flow. Siphon from Hetar itself."

"Steal from Hetar?" Joren chuckled. "You give it too much credit, bro."

"Or not enough," Zalki shot back. "If my suspicions are correct, Temp could pose a threat we haven't seen before."

"The ledger says a kill bounty would be expensive," Valkor stated, each word heavy with decision.

"Alive," Elara quickly added, her gaze piercing as she locked eyes with Zalki.

"Of course, alive," Zalki smirked, standing up. "Wouldn't want to miss all the fun."

"Alive? A bounty?" Joren Abrams exhaled a stream of smoke, the gray tendrils curling into the air of the conference room. "Unequitable to say the least. It’s still a mortal."

"Your point, Abrams?" Thorne asked, his brow furrowed in consideration.

"Temp's actions have been... unorthodox," Joren continued with a shrug. "But issuing a bounty is a heavy-handed approach. Why blow public funds."

"Balance," Elara mused aloud. "Perhaps an amendment is in order."

“By the gods, no. I don’t have time for something like that. Certainly you don’t.” Joren quickly rebutted.

"Capture alive," Valkor conceded with a nod. "And offer Temp a reward commensurate with their... hardships."

“Agreed,” The three other preceptors chimed in.

"Reward?" Zalki let out a laugh that held no humor. "We're rewarding potential system theft now?"

"Dismissed, Kendrick," Thorne said abruptly, cutting through the tension.

Zalki's chair scraped against the floor as he stood, his smirk lingering like a specter long after he'd left the room.

"Consider the strategic implications," Valkor spoke up once the door closed behind Zalki. "Short-term, this is fine, but we haven’t addressed the reason we were gathered—"

"Long-term," Elara interjected, "we set a precedent. Today it's… this chair; tomorrow, who knows how many will follow suit? Should we pull through a restriction now?"

"Exactly," Zara chimed in, her eyes scanning the faces around the table. "It's about containment versus cost."

"Both have their place," Thorne said thoughtfully. "The system maintains order, and our loyalty to its protocols ensures stability. We need a nuanced strategy, but that does not mean we cannot benefit."

"Let's not forget," Joren drawled, tapping ash into a tray, "system’s watching. Heavy-handed tactics will be expensive."

"Risks and rewards," Valkor began, his gaze sharp as he leaned forward. "We must tread carefully. Precedent is hard to wash away."

"True," Thorne agreed, steepling his fingers. "But we cannot ignore the potential benefits—the insight into this... this transformation of power. This could bring us to a new golden age if it can be replicated and scaled."

"Benefits?" Elara questioned skeptically.

"Chaos can be fun, I don’t mind letting this… chair… grow up" Zara muttered under her breath, her eyes alight with the prospect of untapped knowledge. She looked back at Dara, “it’s a chair, right? That’s not a species I am unaware of, correct?”

“That is correct ma’am.”

"Joren," Thorne turned his head slightly, addressing the attorney. "Your thoughts on behalf of Temp? What's fair here?"

Joren exhaled a stream of smoke, flicking ash casually. "Fair's a funny thing," he drawled, "but if we're talking costs—reverting Temp to level one is cheap. Cheap and clean."

"Level 1..." Thorne repeated, his voice trailing off. “Then this would indeed be a perfect tool to farm faith.”

"If you cap Temp at 50, the counterbalance reward is hefty," Joren continued, indifferent. "Too rich for my blood, anyway. The value of the reward will automatically trigger private interests and you’ll be talking to real representation."

"Indeed," Elara said coolly. "A costly reward for a costly act."

"Then we are considering reset over reward?" Thorne inquired, clearly weighing each word.

"Seems more balanced," Zara finally said. "And less likely to break the bank. Dara, keep track of this one.”

"System, we require your recommendation," Elara said, voice firm and resolute.

"Recommendation: Cap Temp at level fifty. Offer substantial reward for voluntary compliance," the system's voice echoed from the room, impartial and dispassionate.

"By my gallbladder," Joren laughed.

“I stand by the system,” Valkor was firm.

"Valkor, you'd back this?" Zara pressed, seeking confirmation.

"Indeed. We must stand by the wisdom of the system. Knowledge is the currency of the wise, but we must also know when and how to wield it," Valkor replied, steadfast.

"Heh, you talk about currency, but this reward could bankrupt us all!" Thorne countered, his tone laced with urgency.

"Resetting to level one is cleaner, simpler," Joren added lazily, leaning back in his chair.

"Are we agreed then?" Elara looked around the room, her gaze piercing.

"Agreed," Zara confirmed, nodding firmly.

"Agreed," Thorne echoed.

"Level one it is," Joren chimed in, almost as an afterthought.

"Very well. I stand alone in dissent," Valkor conceded, his voice bearing a tinge of sorrow.

"Then it is settled," Elara declared. "Reset Temp's system level to one. Dismiss the case."