It felt good to be reunited with Mischief. The two months we'd been friends felt like a lifetime and the bond that was shared through trials was undeniable. We didn't always agree on how things should be done, but that felt ok. He challenged me, forced me to reflect on my own core beliefs in ways that made me uncomfortable and yet refreshing at the same time.

He told me about his time in the anomalies, about his brother that was transformed into a mana spawn, how he felt seeing the cats he was responsible for fight and die, about the creeping helpless feeling he experienced when the cats were killed, and his disappointment with how Bracken killed the bear.

Before we knew it, the night was melting away, and the first signs of morning began making their presence felt.

"I'm only one level away from my second class evolving you know."

"What are you waiting for? You should come with us into the remaining two anomalies, that should be enough to get you there."

I stood up brushing dirt from my robe, more out of habit than anything since the robe itself was magically self cleaning.

"I don't see why not. Before we do that though, I want to make sure that we have the stone quarry in our faction so Jared can get to work on the teleporter."

"You've made up your mind then?"

All night I'd been waffling back and forth. On one hand, Mischief made a compelling argument. It seemed unlikely it was just us who had a teleporter, whether the other faction gifted was my parents faction was another question entirely.

"I want to build it." I confirmed. But my eyes drifted to where our small town would be, the lights weren't as obvious anymore, washed out by the rising morning sun. "But I won't force our faction to do something they aren't comfortable with."

Mischief snorted, not even trying to hide his amusement. "Well then let's go see what everyone else has to say about it."

***

To nobody's surprise, Jared recommended that my proposed council be held at the usual spot. But the thought of cramming over a dozen people into the tight space again felt like a nightmare, and I was already tired of it. I suggested another spot, and Jared Agreed.

To me it felt fitting that we gathered at the plot whose fate we were deciding. Which was, essentially, a giant empty plot of leveled dirt situated a small walk south from the main street, opposite from most of the residential development and small shopfronts.

In short order, Jared had everyone gathered in a rough semi circle of chairs that faced he and I at the head. Cassie's crossed arms and stern glare wasn't lost on me. Our conversation from before felt entirely unresolved and it showed in the knit of her brow, but I stood by my decision with Xander and Sadie, and she would have to also.

Every faction that was grafted in Faction LM had representation, if not some more than others.

Members from the original faction included Jared, Alex, Damon, and Mischief. From the Guildians, Ellison was their unspoken leader, and he was accompanied by Durkil, Daevon, and Jamus. Cassie was so far the only person from her community, we'd stopped calling them Jordan's old faction. And Enora also came alone, although it didn't feel that way with both Alex and Durkil looming over her.

Samson from the wolves, Harold and his friend from the blue men group, Gorff, and a few others who I didn't recognize, but Jared insisted they should be here, all waited in nervous conversation.

Normally Nick would also be involved but he was busy with another assignment for the moment.

I leaned over and quietly asked. "How much do they know?"

"Start from our conversation with Harold and Gorff." Jared replied, apparently not aware of my discreet intentions.

All at once conversations hushed, and all that could be heard was the tell tell signs of construction that were the heartbeat of Faction Layton Mischief.

I glowered at him, letting him stew a bit before accepting my fate. In spite of my clear disdain for public speaking, Jared made it clear that I needed to be the one leading this meeting, and although I didn't like it, I knew he was right.

This was my faction.

Gritting my teeth, I squared my shoulders and faced the group. There was a light tap on my foot and I glanced back at Jared who stuck his thumb up and mouthed "Stand up".

I placed my hands on my knees and forced myself to my feet.

How did Jared do this so often? Unsure of what to do with my hands I let them fall to my side. Somehow just resting them there felt off, so I clenched them behind my back, regretting that instantly also.

As if the hands weren't enough of a problem, I realized I had no idea what to say or how to start this. It's not like Jared and I rehearsed beforehand or anything. My hands began to sweat, and I wiped them on my robe, where my left hand collided with something I'd completely forgotten I'd moved to my hip.

Tranquility.

My hand wrapped gently around the familiar leather hilt and I felt the anxiety melt away. Fingers traced the outline of the grip until my palm found its perch atop the pommel. I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding and saw the faces of my friends in the chairs in front of me.

That's all this was.

A discussion with my friends.

"I'm not sure what everyone's heard, so I'll just tell it like it is." Ellison smirked in the front row. "After meeting with our new faction members, Harold and Gorff, there."

I pointed at the two newcomers.

"We learned if we build this teleporter we're all excited for, we could be inviting powerful threats to challenge our faction, essentially painting targets on our backs before we're ready." I shrugged. "That's about the gist of it, hence why you're all gathered here."

I clapped my hands. "So—raise your hand if you have any questions."

Every hand shot up at once, including Gorff, Jared, and Harold who were all in the original meeting. What the heck could they have questions about? I ignored their hands and pointed to Cassie, hoping she'd see it as a sort of olive branch.

At least with her hand in the air she couldn't keep her arms crossed so menacingly. Right as I pointed her direction her arm snapped right back into place.

She glared at me, then at the same time both her hands flung towards Jared.

"What is this Jared? Seriously?"

I turned to face him, and saw his posture, it was stone to Cassie's flame. When he eventually spoke his words were slow and deliberate.

"Cassie. Do you have a question for Layton?"

Her jaw worked, but Jared was resolute.

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After what felt like an eternity, Cassie folded, directing her attention towards me. Using Jared as my guide, with Tranquility grounding me, I met the storm head on.

"Fine then." She seethed. "Layton, would you mind adding a bit more clarity to what you mean by could."

When Jared refused to conduct the meeting I felt frustrated and argued that it should be him. He was more accustomed to it, speaking in a group setting came naturally to him. Frankly, I hadn't seen what the big deal was. Why would it matter if it was him or me?

It was beginning to click. Jared saw exactly what I had earlier.

I might be the faction leader here, and people might even recognize me for my strength and protection, but when the rubber met the road? I was still very much the goofy college kid. Jared was giving me a chance to help change that.

"It means we don't know. There is a real chance that by simply having the blueprints the target is already there."

Only—isn't this what I wanted though? That's why I made Jared a steward, wasn't it? I am a goofy college kid, right?

"Harold and Gorff provided helpful intel from their planets, but it's far from definitive. Here's what we know: best case, the blueprints are harmless until we build them. Worst case, just owning them already paints a target on us. Either way, we need to decide if we're willing to take that risk. Does that help?"

Waiting for her response, I realized she probably wasn't even thirty. And then out of nowhere, a feeling settled over me, subtle but distinct. I understood instantly that the feeling I was experiencing didn't belong to me. It was Cassie's.

A cloud of resentment radiated from her person and touched upon my mind. It felt firm, only, not in a menacing way. It reminded me of group projects back in school—the ones where I did all the work and someone else still walked away with the grade. No justice, just simmering unfairness.

The arms sucked back into their natural state of being tucked across her chest.

"How is that supposed to help?" She muttered.

I waited for her to say more, but it appeared she'd lost her steam. More hands raised.

"Damon?"

"Is it possible that neither scenario occurs?"

Not sure of the answer, my eyes fell to Harold, and then Gorff. Their posture's non committal, until Harold nodded slowly.

"Well, yes, I suppose that is a possible scenario…" Harold conceded quietly. "But it seems like the least likely in my opinion, if that's helpful."

"It makes sense to me, it seems consistent with what we've seen from the system so far. The more you grow, individually or as a faction, the more it throws at you."

The radiating resentment didn't abate and I frowned. I assumed the phenomenon I was experiencing had something to do with either my class or resonant bias, maybe even both. Not like I needed either to know she looked pissed.

"Even though it might be a possibility, it's irrelevant. From this point on, we operate as if any and all threats can happen at any moment. We are here to decide one thing, are we building the teleporter or not?"

A hand the size of a dinner plate reached hesitantly into the air. "How serious are the threats?"

"Well, Alex. It's not really an exact science."

I considered briefly how best to explain our reasoning. "The way I understand it is, we have access to blueprints that shouldn't be accessed for at least a couple years into the induction. So potentially worlds with access to mana for years."

He whistled. "Damn…but that's not too bad. Hell, all the Guildian's came from somewhere way older than that."

"Jared said the same thing. You need to think on a faction level, the ones at the pinnacle of Harold's world took years to earn this kind of reward."

Someone shouted from the back. "We can't build it!"

It was Jamus. All heads turned to him.

"We can't build it, we've come too far. How can we risk all this?" He waved his hands gesturing broadly. "Now is not the time to make hasty decisions."

"That's easy for you to say." Damon retorted. "You don't have any family on the other side of that portal."

"No, not that portal. But we know the loss of family. How many people have you lost in Battle Damon? We bled to be here, what about you?"

Mischief's voice entered my mind. "They could've bled a lot more."

I waved him off, ignoring the fact that he seemed to be enjoying the back and forth.

"Ok, ok." I said, trying to reign things in.

"Oh, is that how it works? If our faction lost more people we get more votes? Oh well then I guess it's settled, because I want to build it."

"Cassie, that's not helpful…"

"Are you prepared to lose more?" Jamus barked.

"Sure why not?" She added sardonically.

More people joined in, each with their own reasons why we should or shouldn't build the teleporter. With so many competing voices it was challenging to gauge which way the majority was leaning.

Passers going about their daily chores stopped and gawked at the clamoring council members.

Meeting at the site was a mistake. Only—was it so wrong to trust the members of this faction to behave themselves in a public space?

"Ok, everyone. Let's calm down." I urged awkwardly.

But my words fell on deaf ears. My face flushed and I turned to Jared for suggestions.

He balled a first at me, and punched his own hand. Being ignored by people who should at the very least respect me made me feel every bit the twenty year old I was. I'd witnessed Jared conduct several similar type meetings before, and none of them devolved into this.

Why was it that when I was the one leading that everyone thought this was in any way appropriate?

"THAT IS ENOUGH!" I roared over the pandemonium.

The shouting abruptly stopped, and all heads turned in my direction.

"We are here to collaborate—civilly, like the faction members we are. If you have something to add, we'll hear it, as representatives from our greater faction and respond accordingly."

Pointedly I directed my attention to Cassie, then Jamus. "If you can't handle that, then you'll be invited to leave."

I waited to see if there would be any objections. I knew Cassie didn't agree with me, and that was ok, but she should know better than to let her feelings interfere with such an important meeting—and I'm pretty sure Jamus did also.

Thankfully, there were no objections, and Jamus even bowed his head slightly.

"Good. Then let's discuss the pro's and con's. Starting with why not build it."

Harold started it out. "I've noticed that no one has mentioned, and of course, this is not to be offensive, but your faction is not the only faction at risk."

This was actually something that I'd considered and even spoken with Mischief about the night before.

"Are you talking about if we're killed by invaders, the world would be exposed to the new power now on earth?"

"That is correct, yes."

Ellison finally joined in. "There are always bigger fish in an infinite universe. If we survive, this is far from the last time we will have a meeting like this."

"But we don't have to swim right up to it, Ellison." Jamus countered.

"This is true, Layton taught us wolves that lesson himself. He was the bigger fish." Samson added dryly.

The meeting grew long, and thankfully after my outburst ideas were shared and countered respectfully.

For my part, I did my best to direct the meeting, allowing everyone to give their opinions. Mischief didn't seem to be bothered either way, in fact he actually seemed bored. His maw opened, tongue rolling forward in a deep, maybe slightly exaggerated yawn that evolved into an arching stretch of his back.

I grinned, knowing that he'd likely rather be anywhere else at all than here. Looking at him now reminded me of our conversation at the cliffside.

Come to think of it, wasn't there something he'd told me that would be helpful here? Something about the system not giving me a worthless reward?

But why would that matter?

Then it hit me.

"We have to build it." I whispered under my breath, the reality dawning on me.

Ellison was mid speaking when Jared cut him short, grabbing my wrist. "What was that?"

It was suddenly so obvious to me. Especially if Mischief was right. Attention shifted back to me, and I looked at the small group.

"Something Mischief told me the other night. What would be the point of us getting a teleporter that leads nowhere?" I shook my head. "It doesn't matter if we decide not to build it, because whoever else has the other blueprint is going to build theirs. And when they do, like Harold said, the world will be exposed."

There was a pause, as people soaked it in.

"We don't know that, or even if there is another faction with one…" Jamus' tone was mild, he wasn't a fool, logic wasn't on his side and he knew it.

"Can you live with that Jamus? Working day to day wondering each moment if somewhere a world changing faction is introduced?"

He lowered his head.

"I for one want to control my destiny. And if those other people just so happen to be some of our people? All the more reason we need to get to them."

Feeling more confident by the second that this was the right choice, I raised my right hand.

"I move that we proceed with our original plans—to build."

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