Truthseekers' Main Headquarters(Formerly Voinete Mansion), Meteo Town

While Morn is left to organise the initial repairs for the 1-Star Training Hall in the basement, I enter the front door with the others, biting the back of my bottom lip due to the anticipation of my ambitions slowly coming to fruition.

The lobby, as I knew it, is gone. Replaced by the 1-Star Copper-Tier Employment Bureau, <Pioneer-Affiliate Standardised Employment Centre>, something of a mouthful to say if to the point. Along the left wall, affixed to evenly spaced metal columns, is a long, iron-rimmed messageboard constructed out of a mixture of wood and crystal planks in a chevron pattern and sub-divided by difficulty, Copper or Bronze. At 1-Star, Bronze-Tier Difficulty Quests are all we're permitted to handle, and for a Copper-Tier facility, the Level limits will likely go only as far as Level 20-recommended tribulations, which suits our current locale just fine. At the far end stands a long stone desk with wooden railings denoting different stations extending out into the main gathering area, aesthetically bland and utilitarian all in all.

Not the most impressive first impression a visitor to our Headquarters can have. I don't have the will leftover to care about any of that, with how happy I am to have it all in the first place. Former artist or not, presentation is second to practicality, so decorating the room can be saved for another time should someone take it upon themselves to do so, not that our customisation options are very diverse since the bizarre nature of the magical construction of the place disallows such things that don't fit within it's parameters, whatever they might be.

It isn't anything serious as consequences go, but trying to place down one flower pot too many has historically had unpredictable results ranging from finding yourself incapable of placing it physically or mentally, to the item in question being violently ejected from the premises through the shortest available route, obstructions be damned.

"Pretty boring," Jupiter complains, "I was expecting something way fancier or cool from how you've been hyping this place up. Instead, it just looks like a post office or DMV after dark on a slow tuesday, where's the pizazz?"

"I expect it will look and feel rather different when it's operating and full of people," Angelus shrugs, flexing his talons, "I still dislike tile flooring greatly, shame that wasn't changed out."

"At least the pure white is less ugly than before," Jupiter yawns, "Looked like an old bathroom in here, and not the tasteful upper-class kind, the middle-class pretending to be fancy kind."

"Not an unfair comparison, I suppose," I stroll onwards, "You did remember to leave my room alone, to change the subject, didn't you?"

"Well, we threw out the mouldy mattress and fabrics, but yeah, still needs cleaning," Windy clears her throat, "Most of the mansion should be at least dust-free by now. We kind of got sidetracked once we found the you-know-what in the basement."

"Right," I nod, recalling the consternation I felt at being told there was a direct line to the remains of the City Core in my basement, "I don't expect Olrica has had any joy since last we spoke?"

"Nah, she's all but given up on it now, and Jade isn't really any happier - she's been whining constantly to let her use that cursed pickaxe we got on it," Windy complains, following behind, "Or make a bomb, which uhh, no."

"Just as well," Angelus mutters under his breath.

"I'd take a look, but I don't expect I'll have any better ideas for how to crack it open," I scratch my brow, "Cracking through security systems isn't my area of expertise. At best I could potentially identify what those measures were. Doubtful, as whoever originally constructed that place would need to be a much smarter, powerful and no doubt highly reckless Maehcostran, but perhaps."

I can circumvent basic locks and traps, and that's about as far as I ever needed to care as it was never my job to and that isn't likely to change in this life either. Ideally, it would serve as a learning experience for Olrica and whoever else we recruit in her realm of expertise, although cracking open the door sooner rather than later would be preferable. There's no telling what's contained there and I don't want it biting me in the ass later on.

Here's hoping that my tail and their owner don't get too curious beforehand. As if hoping alone will be enough to prevent or dissuade them from acting as they please in my home without my consent or awareness, searching it from top to bottom as much for the sake of it as to dig up information they can use to better corral me and the guild. Any creature, even the physically weakest elderly spellcaster, with more than seventy levels in advance of me can casually move fast enough they're functionally invisible to my perception, and the true specialists like Rea-Horolt Ixilotte would rip the flesh from my bones and shatter those in tandem were I to stand in her wake. Even a brute like Yanse could outpace our most advanced jets and rockets in Reality going full pelt with a single stride if she felt like it.

"This'll be the part where you get to laugh at our ignorance and you explain to us what the heck a Maycosdra is," Jupiter snarks with a bit more irritability than I thought him capable of exhibiting. Plainly, I am not the only one of us to find this behaviour a little out of character for the bellicose Wizard as Windy interjects first.

Folding her arms, her eyebrows scrunch together, "What's got you riled up all of a sudden?"

Jupiter clears his throat conspiratorially, "Though it might surprise you to learn this highly sensitive information, I am not only the greatest spellslinger to ever exist, I am also an equally handsome and amazing high school student, and, it just might be the case that mere moments ago I recalled that I have an assignment due which I have yet to complete, and a vid to make - because I've spent entirely too much time in VR lately. So I guess as a result I'm a little uhh...miffed with myself you could say. Nothing against you all, just like, general-purpose all-natural agitated - now with 54% less sugar."

Sighing, I gesture for him to move onward, "Then go find your room, log off, and get it done, Jupiter. Not to sound rude, but there's nothing else for you to do today regardless. How much have you got left to do on the video, now that you mention it?"

"Just about everything is done, just got to set up all the transitions and the audio."

"If you'd like, you can send what you've got so far to me and you can focus on your schoolwork," Angelus offers thoughtfully, "Doesn't really seem fair to make you do all the work at the expense of your education."

"Thanks, bro, but I've got it," Jupiter thumps his puffed out chest, "I didn't spend a semester in film club not to use it, yeah?"

"If you insist, just remember me if you need help," Angelus snorts an appreciative laugh, "Now get going already, hop to it."

"Siryessir!" Jupiter salutes him and not quite runs, more jogs with intent towards the doors in the back of the room.

"On that weird note, you should probably find a room to hold a meeting in, boss," Windy suggests, glancing back at the front door, "Leave the Architects to Morn, I'll handle the crowds with Ange."

"Is that an order?" Angelus asks, amused.

"I'm not doing it alone, man," she shrugs, smiling sweetly at him as she pulls her helmet on, "Come on, I can hear shouting already."

"Yes, ma'am," Angelus bows, full of good-natured insincerity.

"Don't give me no lip," her voice grumbles through her helmet, turning to me, "We can have that whole catch-up session once we've dealt with our obligations, right?"

After a moment's consideration, I agree, "I won't object exactly, but I would appreciate it if you left them at the door for a moment so you can catch me up on what I might need to know in advance which I don't already."

"I can do that," Angelus rights his posture, "Our Vice-Leader is a more imposing presence at the front than I am anyway, so it won't make a difference if I were to escort them."

"If you would," I nod, grateful, "Remember, just the urgent ones today. I can't stick around for too much longer myself when it comes down to it."

"You really need a capsule of your own," Angelus points out the obvious.

"Would that I had the money on hand, but even the cheaper capsules cost more than a new car, not including delivery, installation, licencing, DEF, power consumption and so on and so forth," I throw my hands up in surrender, "Even if I were to empty out my savings, I couldn't afford it."

"Mm, yeah," Windy nods, a hint of anxiety creeping in, "We kind of haven't made any actual money yet have we? 'cept for those dungeon guides a while ago."

I pick up on the reason fairly swiftly, "With respect to your uncle, matters haven't exactly gone smoothly for us so far, but we've got plenty of stock either on hand or on it's way now, so we can start converting it all into sales from here on out."

I had considered selling some Merrowan currency, but I struggle to see the benefit of empowering our rivals and contemporaries at this point, when we hold a massive economic advantage over all of them combined - at least within Astral Reckoning. It's still an option, but only as a last resort.

"I-I know, just..." Windy exhales, "Not now. Worry about that in a week if this doesn't work out...you know, again."

"I'm lost," Angelus declares, "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Windy hastily denies anything is going on, "Don't worry about it, man."

"I wasn't exactly, but now I am," he ruffles his hair, "But I get it: Private stuff."

"It is, that," I nod slowly, "In any case, I'll be taking my leave. Any suggestions for a room?"

"The study that was in the north wing was what we used last time."

"Great."

---

 

Officer's Study Room, North Wing, Truthseekers' Main Headquarters

It's not long before I hear a knock on the door to the cosy study room. Sat slouched and sinking deeply into the hard wooden chair, I hurriedly correct my sitting posture, clear my throat quietly and raise my voice, "Enter."

Angelus, as promised, opens the door and slips through first, closing it behind him gently, "Jericho to see you, Silver. As well as Dawn Waker from the Pavillion of Myriad Dao."

After rubbing my tired eyes, I nod in recognition, "Please bring Mr Fathom in first, and apologise to Miss Dawn Waker. This shouldn't take long, but if he's to be joining his forces to ours it seems only right to have his input going forward with other dealings."

Angelus thinks about it for a moment and nods back, "Sure, I can see why you'd say that. Do you need me to sit in on this?"

"If you don't mind, keeping Miss Dawn Waker company in the meantime instead would be best," I decide to show a little consideration to one of our biggest investors, "For as long as you can tolerate each others' company before checking back in at the front door, at least."

"Understood," Angelus makes to leave before stopping, "Oh, and it's gotten pretty busy. I think I spotted one of Rambling Rose's rogues too, so we might be getting a visit from Hadrian."

"If he wants to see me he'll have to get in line with the rest," I roll my eyes, "Priority remains for those we have prior dealings."

"Figured you would say that," he shrugs, uncaring, "Just letting you know to expect him to be annoying."

"From our interactions thus far, I don't expect him to ever be anything other than obstinate," I shake my head, "Anyway, thanks. As you were."

---

 

Mr Fathom enters the room with a lack of enthusiasm to his posture that fair echoes my own, sharing in my mental exhaustion if for different reasons than me. His eyes don't properly meet mine nor focus quickly when his head jerks to do so, and a flash of mutual understanding passes between us unspoken.

"Rough day," I state simply.

Mr Fathom nods slowly and deeply, take the few strides to the chair opposite me at this table leisurely, "An understatement."

"Well, under the circumstances I'm not at liberty to offer my sympathies," I lean forward, arms crossed on the table, "All the same, I will apologise for asking you to explain the situation first. I heard there were some ideological differences from Windy, but I don't know how things stand at present nor the details thereof."

He looks off to the side for a moment, pensive enough that it shows through his Quirstic passivity, "I would much rather not be here at all, truth be told. We've had our disagreements in the past, even for those still with me, but I counted them friends for years - and now we part ways despite my best efforts to convince them to stay together. It's a bitter feeling."

I keep my peace as he gets his troubles off his chest because despite him ignoring my request, I do not see a reason to be an ass and interrupt him. I may not care, as his troubles were and remain none of my business, but I understand that much about the nature of tact, rest assured.

"The best I could do was to get them to agree to stay on friendly terms with us, though we might be embarking on different paths forward from here on out," Mr Fathom continues adjusting his seat uncomfortably, "As for how things progress from now on, I couldn't tell you, Silver. I say this just to make clear that there shouldn't be any bad blood between us and them that you will have to account for in the future."

"Though I doubt such was your intent, I appreciate it nonetheless," I breathe deeply, "Assuming that you still wish to partner with Truthseekers, who is coming with you?"

He does a quick mental tally, "In total, 37 people have agreed to follow me out of the 84 total. Of the remainder, about half have chosen to reorganise under a former officer of Wolf Hunt and the rest have chosen to strike out on their own or join other organisations if they aren't quitting altogether."

I quirk a brow, surprised, "Rather more than I expected. No offence meant."

"None taken," he barks a self-deprecating laugh, "I was surprised as well. But if they'd left too, I don't know what I would do with myself, to be honest. I'm grateful for their faith in me through it all."

Drumming my fingers on the table I think about my next question, "Of them, what is the Level range, Class composition and so on?"

"There's a good chunk of the core combat force here as you might imagine," Mr Fathom explains after some consideration, "You know, the serious types. So, most are hovering around...Level 11 after all the bullshit with Darkest Dreamers, with a couple that're lower than that or higher. Speaking for myself, I'm Level 14, though not for lack of attempts on my life."

He shuts his eyes to think once more, "Uhm, I'd say we have...three healers - including me - ten magic casters, and the rest are a mix of melee and archers."

"No tanks?"

"Well, I know that one person has been sort of on the fence and leaning towards independent," Mr Fathom frowns, "But I'm not sure she'd be interested in coming with us at this point. So, afraid not."

Annoying, but look not a gift horse in the mouth. Windy is in desperate need of some partners for larger group content going forward, or if nothing else people who can take her place so she can have some rest. That we're getting three healers and a large number of others is already more than I could hope for.

"Alright," I lean back in my chair, struggling to keep my back straight, "With all the information thusly laid bare, let's move on and speak terms. What are you offering, and what do you want in exchange?"

"Contingent on Truthseekers continuing to grow - and Astral Reckoning still being around by then," he coughs, then rubs his scalp, "We'll be working for you for a minimum of six months Real-time as full-fledged members of Truthseekers, with myself as an Officer in whatever capacity we agree on. With respect, we won't be comfortable submitting ourselves completely to your will, so I at least need to be able to represent our shared interests for as long as we're hitched to your boat. Not that I expect to have to speak out, you understand. Since, from what I've seen so far you're not one to be unreasonable.

Once the six months are up, we'll revisit the contract and figure out what our next move from there will be. Whether we stick around or separate will be something each of us will have to decide individually, I suppose, but by then I expect we'll all have a better idea."

I think it over for a minute or two, before voicing a response, "So, if I'm to understand this correctly, other than the opportunity to veto decisions, you don't wish for any special treatment and are willing to do whatever we require of you?"

Mr Fathom bows his head in acknowledgement, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, "Correct. I'm just a self-taught horticulturist, I don't really have a head for numbers or anything complicated when it comes down to it, and I don't believe there's a need to make it convoluted just for the sake of seeming professional."

Chuckling, I feel an odd sense of kinship with the man, "Oh, don't I know it...Fine. I accept, with one small tweak - although you might be an officer on paper, I can't assign you any administrative power or the like. In other words, you'd be more akin to a Captain than a Commander, if that makes sense."

"So long as our rights are preserved, I have no objection," Mr Fathom agrees, "And if I'm honest, I'd be more comfortable just being responsible for those who came with me in the first place."

"Well, it'll need some proper organising, but I do think I have a job for you lined up already," I smile at him as I stand and walk over for a handshake, "How would you like to investigate something for me in Ujax Forest?"