“As you will it, it shall be done Mother.” Her lead Feather replied. A brooding one with a hood of white, knives held in his hands. An assassin of sorts. Relinquished barely remembered his name. To’Regis? She could open up the datafile and read it into her memory, but the idea bored her.

Instead, she held her hand out to the dark mite containment cube before her. Something she’d kept here hidden for the past seven hundred years now. Too afraid to even post defenses nearby in case it would draw attention.

The other locations of interest, she'd assigned two or three Feathers to guard. This one required the best of the best. She brought out nine, all from the second generation. Together, they were a force that could hold off or even kill a protofeather. They'd worked before to do exactly that.

"You will lead this defense personally." She said. "Should an enemy approach through this gateway, you are to inform me immediately, and then bar passage or eliminate the enemy. Stall at last resort. Am I understood?"

The Feather knelt down, humbled as he should be.

This would be the seventh installation she'd walked to, posting up guards to protect it. Strategic locations that the machine empire required. Cashes of weapons she hadn't been able to destroy but needed to keep them away from the enemy hands. She didn't know what contingency plans A22 had set in motion. And what she didn't know, she feared above all else.

There would be dozens of different critical locations to solidify and protect while she was blind from the mite's meddling.

And this mite containment cube held the worst of all weapons out there. Obscurity had been the best defense. This biome’s entrances and exits had equally been collapsed, leaving only a single portal that would only activate with her personal signature. She'd paid her dues to the mites centuries ago to force them away from restoring this biome or meddling with it again.

Tsuya could never find this, even the majority of her empire didn’t know it existed. A sanctuary for herself and herself only.

And now, she didn’t trust that sanctuary would remain safe.

"May we know more information on this, my lady?" One of the nine Feathers asked. To'Irelia? Or To'Iranda. Something with an I, Relinquished didn't care.

“This cube contains the greatest weapon Tsuya could bare against me. An old thorn in my heel that I could never truly rid myself of.” She began. “What is inside is mine to know. You nine will stay here in a formation, and guard this with your life. Am I understood?”

She got pings requesting army logistics. This location was far beyond their territory. Which meant leaving behind their armies to guard their thrones in their steed.

Relinquished sent them permissions to use the local forces within this strata, in order to protect the outer portal leading inwards, and to deliver a steady supply of power cells through the portal to supply the Feathers that would remain here guarding the cube.

Controlling and commanding armies was already ground down to a snail's pace with the machine network turned off. They had to go through the digital ocean itself, which required mite terminals to function. Of which, could be turned off at any moment on their whim.

No, armies couldn't be relied on until the network was allowed to be restored. She needed her defenses to be impervious and independent.

None of the Feathers here complained. None cared that the lessers wouldn’t stand between them and the enemy to come. Rather, they preferred it this way.

They knew an army wouldn’t assist against the foes they would be pit against. Not when nine of them were called up to guard the same location all together.

“This is where you will remain until I deem it unneeded anymore. You will not leave. You will not falter. You will guard this until I deem your service complete.”

All nine Feathers knelt before her, then held still. She knew she wouldn’t hear a single one of them complain for the lack of things to do besides stand upon this bridge shoulder to shoulder and prevent entry to the containment cube behind them.

There had been only one time in history second generation Feathers were forced to work together in teams like this.

They could tell something dangerous would be here soon. Something that would be equal to the danger of a protofeather.

The only thing in their minds were one single sentence:

What could be coming?

Occult crackled in a spread of red and pale teal, mist formed out of nowhere, and deep within a pulse rippled out. The shadowy figure of a relic knight formed within the mist, stepping out.

Two more steps and everyone could see the imposing figure as he raised his hands in glorious return.

“I’m back!” I said, waving out to the audience as I fully stepped out of the occult mist. “Rise of hands, who here missed me? Fido, I can see your claw there twitch, so I’m counting that as a yes.”

All around were raised weapons aimed directly my way, along with Fido himself curled up over the rooftop, jaw slightly unhinged and glowing a dangerous blue in my direction. He shut it slowly, hissing.

Probably had to do with Lejis there quickly patting him into submission.

As for why everyone was aiming my direction, easy: The mite teleportation cube took one entire hour to trigger. So for one hour, on the other end they saw the building mist of occult and power strumming here, building up to something they hadn’t seen before.

Before the shadowy relic knight of House Winterscar stepped out along with his two minor accomplices, and everyone couldn’t help but keep their attention directly on him.

“Lady To’Wrathh!” They started to cry out, flocking over to Wrath as she walked out of the mist next to me. Now there were people all over us, hands reaching out to touch or shake her hand. By this point, all the weapons had lowered and the little town here was now filled with energy.

A few even gave me dirty glares as they passed by, recognizing my emblem and armor. And none of them even noticed Drakonis, who sulked off to the side, watching as the ‘cultists’ he’d fought not even a few days ago were now all right here and off-limits.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from NovelBin; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Tammery was right in the center of things, marching straight up to Wrath as she smiled like she’d always believed. Which, I’m pretty sure she actually had. Wrath had basically always come through on everything she’s ever promised, which is the boring way to gain trust and a reputation for reliability, if someone asked me.

“You can’t bribe the peasants here with shiny gold.” Cathida snickered in my helmet. “They know who they like.”

“Yeah, yeah, I see where this is going.” I sighed, folding my hands on my chest. “I’ll be gracious and let Wrath have her heroic moment. I had my fun already.”

The funny thing is that everyone passed right by Drakonis without even noticing him. He wasn’t in armor, and few people had ever seen his face, so he blended into the crowd without any issue.

The only people that seemed happy to see me were the team of four Winterscar knights left behind here to protect the city in case of trouble. They simply pinged Journey, and lined up on the other side, arms folded behind their backs, waiting for me.

I gave them quick salute and orders to be at ease again, which they acknowledged and returned to their prior duties, three walking back to their patrols, while the last one approached to give a full report of the events that had happened here.

Basically nothing, and ever since the team split up to go chase down the Deathless where they lived, they hadn't heard back anything. Nor had there been any attack so far. They'd seen about three caravans of random transient people arrive over the last few days, old citizens of Capra'Nor that either couldn't find refuge among the other city states, or had been hoping to hear about Wrath again.

It took a little bit of time, but festivities soon moved on from Wrath herself to the city at large, and about an hour later, we were shuffled in a large room with a slightly smaller table.

Tamery and Marsella both gave me a glare. One disapproving, and one approving. Don’t ask me how one does an approving glare, but Marsella somehow did. Then she took a deep puff of whatever she was smoking, and lounged backwards. Lejis simply seemed happy to be here, and Drakonis seemed a little uncomfortable.

Perhaps ‘little’ might not be the best word for this, but Fido certainly seemed to zero in on exactly that, head stuck through the doorway in between Marsella and Lejis’s seat. Giving the Deathless a deep stare as if waiting for anything to happen next. Then I saw the little asshole lick his chops.

“Fido. No fun allowed here.” I said, legs crossed over on the table while I relaxed in my chair. “This is serious business.”

“Sssss… the smooth rot within that putrid mind of yours has continued unchallenged. How long shall you plague this world with such a sssssstench?” He asked.

Which was a little ironic to insult me like that, given Drakonis here had a literal fungus living in his head. Who could be spread by blood and bites. I don’t know how he was going to explain that one to Lionheart, but wished him the best.

I took a breath, happy to have a chance to start bickering with someone, but Wrath poured some snow all over the heater, raising a hand to cut me off right as I was about to start.

“We are gathered here to discuss terms of peace and possible future trade. Drakonis has agreed to discuss with the other Deathless to cease his attack, and has also agreed to make the same attempt with Lionheart himself.”

He seemed to shake off his stupor, and I realized he hadn’t been glaring back at Fido, but rather Marsella.

Oh. Right, one of the main reasons he didn’t trust a word anyone said was because that woman was on the other side of the table here. Apparently among undersider culture, she had a reputation as being a bit of a troublemaker.

“With the Deathless battled away, we are in a far more secure position to negotiate a ceasefire. And I have here, their ringleader. Please treat him as a guest, for he is under no threat of jail. He has come here on his own free will to discuss forward options for all.”

At least among the clans, Winterscars could only get within a margin of horrible to morally bankrupt, before the clan lord himself stepped in to warn us all away. There was still some sense of honor and not-dragging-the-innocent. Undersiders operated in a far different society, one that allowed a lot more corruption to run things, and Marsella was the product of that upbringing. Something that Drakonis, being born with a bothersome thing like a strict moral compass, had a very hard time adjusting to.

“No thanks to her.” He hissed. “If we’re going to speak terms, I want her out of here.”

Lovely, looks like he hadn’t adjusted at all.

“You can piss in church all you want Drakonis, that time of our lives are over.” Marsella said, taking another deep puff. “It’s all gone, and all that’s left now is to rebuild something better. Besides, the little warlord here has a much better irontight grip over the city than you think. Practically impossible to do anything illegal after she took over. Too bad you ran like a little dick.”

He just growled back.

Wrath took control of the discussion right after, chiding both sides and executing diplomacy through sheer number sheets and balances. She’d apparently taken all of Marsella’s prior paperwork, and added those to every other ledger and trace of monetary movements. So when she took control of Capra'Nor, she was easily able to find everything that had gone wrong and fix it personally.

Some had their scammed wealth restored, others had their avenues of scamming removed, and so forth down the line until justice had been restored to the city.

Drakonis didn’t believe any of that, until he asked for the fates of some very specific people he had seen ruined from the crossfire between Marsella and the other factions, and got a detailed explanation on how Wrath had balanced the sheets, right down to ordering her army to assist in repairing storefronts that were broken down, or relaunching them elsewhere.

She even had video footage of visiting one personally for a sit down with tea, while the others had only been a scattered set of audio recordings as they'd called her instead of requesting her face to face.

Apparently Wrath specifically manipulating the local economy with sheer brute force had worked out to jump start it back on track. Just about everyone had a better time with her in charge, and that was one of the main reasons people had started to migrate back up here, in larger caravans even if they weren't Chosen. The short time with Wrath had solidified a very loyal following.

"Observe," I said, pointing at Wrath. "Peak charisma."

Marsella laughed at that, "More like she can't lie to save her life, and frankly never needed to in the first place. Who'd have thought having the luxury to be honest at everything makes people trust you?"

Drakonis somewhat calmed down on that, and so long as Marsella was actually helping this place grow instead of trying to strangle it, there could be some allowances made now that he knew even her past crimes had been restored. Wrath didn't believe in punishment for punishment's sake, but rather reforming people... albit with an iron hand.

After Wrath took over the city, Marsella’s ability to conduct illegal options had basically ended straightaway. The woman knew Wrath could see and balance every single ledger in the city all in one second while talking to several hundred people. Other crime syndicates within the city had tried to continue their operations and quickly found the Machines waiting at their homes to gently remind them such days were over.

Marsella had already predicted that and pivoted away, so she never had the Wrath special treatment.

As for why Marsella decided to help Wrath given that would effectively end half her empire, no idea personally. Maybe the old mercenary lady had enough of the way she lived her life. Or she wanted to retire. Or maybe building social power was the game she enjoyed playing the most, it just so happened doing so in a city with loose rules forced her to play in ways she didn't particular care for but had to.

But my personal bets were that Marsella was the kind that always picked the winners side, and she saw Wrath as the unstoppable juggernaut coming to take names and hyper-optimize everything under her control. Which, well, she was.

Anyhow, not my hangar, not my airspeeders. So long as Wrath and Drakonis weren't upset with Marsella.

And by the time I turned back in on the conversation, they were neck deep in the political blah blah blah. Also, Drakonis knowing a possible connection to the Icon and the Odin civilization that required a portal activated seemed to get a lot more discussion on trade and possible exchange of knowledge, mostly coming from the trade obsessed Tammery. She lived for this sort of thing. And I'd probably be sent to turn that back on.

As for me, I spent the next hour reading Hexis’s fractal book, and testing the new fractal I’d gotten from the tower Drakonis and I plundered. I was close to cracking what it did. Something to do with time and it’s… direction? Vector? There was a lot of hooks to the concept of souls, not just the caster's. Or rather like hooks that couldn't fit anything other than the concept of souls, which was the closest match.

And then Cathida gave me a nudge, telling me something interesting was happening.

The topic had turned to the Winterscar knights, Father, and Captain Sagrius.

And ho boy, were they up to no good.