The Chosen Ones were changing. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the doomed and declining organization of traditionally-minded spiritualists was evolving into something new.

No one noticed at first. No one paid much attention to the new recruits that started showing up every day. They just came to work and did their jobs. There weren't many of them, but they worked hard. And soon, they became a significant part of the group, some taking on leadership roles, some working in positions where they could make a huge impact.

Slowly, subtly, the character of the Chosen Ones shifted. Their personalities and attitudes began to change, and they started thinking differently about how things should be done. Before anyone could realize what exactly had happened, the solemn Tower of the Chosen became a lively place full of laughter, smiles, and friendly competition.

Thanks to Miss Planner, the young Michael became a resident of the Tower of the Chosen, and so did his three adopted daughters and adopted son. The whole family lived in a gorgeous condo. Michael was a busy man, now. He worked hard to make the other new recruits feel welcome and comfortable, and he spent hours with each of them, pushing them to find the happiness that he had as a Chosen One.

Michael was comfortable in his own skin, and he was proud of what he did. Despite his initial reservations about working in the recruitment division, he quickly discovered that he loved it. In fact, Michael was getting better every day at helping people become the happiest versions of themselves possible. He liked making people smile. If someone needed help, he helped them get it; if they wanted advice, he gave it freely and without hesitation.

As he was getting his kids ready to go to school, Michael caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He'd been drug-free for months, getting regular exercise, and eating healthy. He was wearing a beautiful black cloak emblazoned with the symbol of the Chosen Ones. He didn't look skinny, or dirty, or sad. Michael looked strong, confident, handsome... and he felt great.

"I love you, daddy."
"I love you too, Allie. Have a great day today!"

"Yes! Thank you, daddy!"
"Bye-bye!"
"I love you!"
"Goodbye, daddy!"

All four of his children ran out the door and headed off to school. Michael sighed and smiled at them as they left. He watched them walk down the hall, waving back over their shoulders until they disappeared around the corner.

Michael grabbed everything he'd need for the day and took the elevator down to his office. It was a small room that contained a desk, an old computer, a filing cabinet with a few files in it, and a pair of chairs. A tall man in a white cloak and an eerie clay mask was waiting for Michael when he arrived, the grim Sage of Death.

The old man gave Michael a gentle nod of greeting. 

"You are looking well this morning, Michael. The Sage of Destruction sends his regards."

Michael bowed respectfully and sat in the chair opposite the Sage. "Thank you for coming by again, great Sage. I have two members of the Animal Brotherhood coming to speak with you this morning. An intelligent young man who seems to have lost his way, Guilty Shadow, and an energetic young man named Dead End. I hope you can help them find a new path that will lead to happiness."

The Sage nodded and leaned forward, clasping both hands together on the table. His eyes were calm and steady, but his voice was filled with compassion.

"Have no fear, Michael. The lost Brotherhood will find a new home and a new purpose at the Tower of the Chosen. You may rest assured that they will be provided for, and they will be given every opportunity to change their ways."

As the Sage of Death spoke, Michael noticed a slight change in the atmosphere of the room. There was a sense of peace and stillness as if the Sage brought some sort of soothing energy into the place. Michael found it difficult to concentrate on the Sage's words, though. He had a strange feeling about something.

"I'm worried that they... the Animal Brotherhood... they might never change their ways."

The Sage of Death shook his head slowly from side to side. He put his old and wrinkled hand on Michael's shoulder.

"Do not worry yourself with such thoughts. Only a Sage can determine the future. I have seen countless lives run their course, and I have learned many secrets about how to live in this world. And I know that the forsaken young men of the Brotherhood are not past the point of redemption. But they must fight for change and reach for it with all their power. Many of them will fail, but those few who endure will find happiness at the end of their journey."

Michael took a deep breath and let it out. He knew that the Sage was right, but he couldn't hide the look of doubt in his eyes.

"Is it really that simple? Some of them will redeem themselves... and some won't? Is it safe to let them join us? What if they turn against us? What if they come after my family?"

The Sage chuckled darkly. He stood up. In a moment, he was towering over the younger man, staring directly into his eyes.

"Then so be it. That is the nature of life. The brave and righteous will always face peril; only cowards and criminals avoid it. Do you think life without struggle and hardship is worth living? You are destined to guide the weak through darkness and pain. That is your purpose in this world."

Michael was humbled. He could feel his chest tightening up. He couldn't bear to look at the great Sage of Death anymore. The old man chuckled once more and continued to speak.

"Be at ease, my child. I did not wish to scold you. Your doubts are natural and justified. It is an unfortunate fact that a good man can find himself surrounded by evil companions and suffer greatly for it. Is that any reason to reject those in need of guidance?"

"No. Of course not."

The Sage reached out with one finger, gently tapping Michael on the forehead. His finger glowed faintly with purple energy. The touch was pleasant and comforting.

"You are troubled by thoughts of loss, Michael. But we cannot avoid such things. If you allow yourself to become lost in sorrow and despair, then you lose sight of what matters. Your actions should reflect the light inside of you. Yes, you may encounter misfortune or even danger... but it will not deter you."

"Yes. I understand."

The Sage paused and looked away as if to focus on something else that wasn't there. He looked back at Michael again.

"I have a favor to ask of you. Have you met my new Follower?"
"No. Not yet. I've heard about her, though... a young girl with psychic powers we rescued in Challebon."

"She's nine years old. Her name is Gabby. I need your help dealing with her. She was raised to believe she was a monster, and that everyone was out to get her. All of this nonsense from when she was little... it's all foolishness and it's hurting her now. Show her kindness, and help me teach her how wonderful life can be."

The Sage was serious. He wanted to see Gabby healed. And he didn't want to do it alone. He had a feeling that Michael would take a liking to the girl.

"Of course. I'll do whatever I can to help ease the poor child's burden."

"I know you will. And I'm certain that the day will come soon, when she will smile, and laugh, and say... 'thank you.' Of course, you have my thanks as well... for that, I wish to offer you a small token of my appreciation."

The Sage of Death waved his hand in the air and opened his palm to Michael, revealing a tiny figurine of a skeletal crow. In his hands, the figure seemed weightless and insubstantial, like a piece of mist. Michael stared at it for several seconds. Then, he took the figurine and placed it on his desk. He examined it closely, running his fingers over the smooth wooden surface.