Nic had forgotten how busy, how rich, how overwhelming a city could be. Especially when, and this part was new, everyone wanted to meet you and shake your hand and be your friend.

Already, Nic had been gifted a skewer of roast fish, the skin flaking off against his tongue in charcoal crumbles as he bit into the greasy white flesh below. An old man insisted he drink a cup of something truly foul, calling it monkey-wine. It was half-fermented and half-just-rotten, oversweet, full of stringy pulp.

It was also incredibly alcoholic.

As Nic coughed that out, Ruben clapped him on the back. “Chief, I gotta say, this beats our tents in the woods. There’s a lot of work to do, but your lady-friend, she’s a good boss. If a bit of a hard-ass…”

“Lady-friend?” Nic blinked. “Oh no, Sofia’s not my…”

But Inkspur was already too amused, and the little traitor refused to translate.

“Ennyway. We’ve got people working on those formations she wants, but a lot of the young’uns aren’t taking to sitting around. They want to learn to fight, and I ain’t gonna be the one to teach them.”

Nic nodded slowly. “How about we build a training ground then? I’ll put one down, and anyone who can pass some simple tests can take lessons...” He could spare some time, he realized now. Teaching Kline to cultivate had led to a moment of true understanding.

Teaching the villagers to fight might lead to another kind of breakthrough.

“Mm. It’s a start. Honestly, I’d say the best thing would be to get some guns…” The big man pursed his scarred lips, then shrugged. “I won’t be joining you, I guess I’m saying. I know where I’m going in life and it doesn’t involve any magic.”

He could understand that. Honestly, with how stubborn Nic could be, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to learn cultivation in Ruben’s position.

“Sofia? Make sure they get rewarded for doing the work they’re doing.”

Moving on, Nic found his attention drawn to a small workshop assembled outside of a hut, where a man with unruly gray hair was grinding down pieces of stone. The scrape of his tools as he worked made a strange kind of rhythm, pulling Nic’s attention to see what he was doing.

Every so often the man would lick a piece of rock and either drop it into a bowl or throw it into the river. Hunched beside him was a second man with a wiry red beard who was working with simple tools, trying to peel screws out of pieces of scrap metal.

They noticed Nic after a second, looking up. A blink and Nic recognized they were father and son.

“Yeah? You’re the ah, lil’ pink lizard that runs this place, huh? Weird.” The older man said, pausing to drink from a crude clay bowl and wash the stone dust out of his mouth.

“WEIRD is a BIG WORD for someone with ROCKS IN THEIR MOUTH.” Inkspur shot back, before Nic could stop him.

“Just ask why he’s licking rocks.” Nic said in exasperation.

“Cuz. I can taste the metal hidin' away in 'ere.” The old timer said, and then held up a finger. “Here.” He thrust out the bowl where he’d been putting the selected piece. Through each one was a small twist of cobalt blue metal, running through the gray stone like a vein.

“We figure- I’m Jay this is my pops, Michael, but we figure we’re handy enough to build a forge. Pops has got his whole rock-licking thing, and he thinks, well, he thinks the material in these stones is special enough to do’s something interesting with.” The son explained.

He pointed to the plastic bucket he was filling with screws.

“I’m just stripping scrap and saving the bits I can, melting down the rest.”

“Hmm.” Nic pondered for a moment, staring down at the bowl with the licked stones. Neither of them could see, but a sylph had alighted, the wisp of elemental energy drawn to something within. “Y’know what? You two are onto something. Let me handle the forge, you just keep finding rocks like that. Anything you could use?”

“I could use…” The old man said, sticking out a tongue coated in rock dust. “A mint.”

“Ain’t any left, pops.” Jay said tiredly, shooting a look Nic’s way. Old men, huh, his eyes seemed to say.

Nic just grinned. Reaching into his bag, he took out one of the bubblegum fruit he’d grown in the Saturnalia. “This do?” The old timer’s eyes lit up at the sight of candy.

“Yeah, yeah that will.” He laughed, tossing it between his teeth and biting down. “Thanks, chief.”

Nic just kept walking, observing the sights. Everyone here had some amount of value, however clumsy they might be at wielding it.

He thought he saw what Sofia saw, for once. Not just in terms of being able to summon the golden diagrams to transcribe the world into cold, logical calculations, but in seeing how everything fit together. How people could be guided to find their potential.

How the end of the world had brought about something beautifully strange and new.

Old or young, everyone here had demonstrated some aptitude for cultivation. They had been gifted Shards, or at least, the ones who accepted them had.

Now they were exploring what they could do.

A young woman with her frizzy hair tied up by a length of red bandanna was working with a thin jet of flame that extended from two fingers, charring runes into lengths of bone brought in by the hunters. Nic recognized some of his own style of runecraft, something similar to Hunter-Gatherer Petroglyphs, but geared towards inscribing the bones of the dead.

A man by the construction crew whistled, and the wind surrounded them, speeding the workers as they waded through the waters to set foundations in place.

A city of cultivators.

In a city given magic and forced to learn, it was only a matter of time before people began to catch up with Nic. Before there were talents who exploded out, finding their own paths, chasing after him…

Nic smiled a secretive grin. He’d stay ahead if he had to die on his feet fighting to keep his lead.

Of course he would.

By the time his tour reached an end, a dozen people had shown Nic the fruits of their labor. One hunter had developed a bond with a familiar-looking monkey, one of the ones that nested above his poison grove. Together they had hunted up a strange looking fruit that resembled a lump of knotted vascular tissue, like a living heart.

Another had etched out a map of the nearby Peregrine Runes.

Others were making paper, arrowheads, medicines. Sofia had been relentless in finding a purpose for every single living person, setting them to their tasks, but most of all, in convincing them what was happening was important.

Nic saw her a dozen times in a dozen different places, chatting with this person or that. The armored, inhospitable shape she took gave her a commanding presence, unlike Nic, who was treated like an old friend…

He came to a halt at the base of the Totem. Laying his hand on it, he drew out the Spatial Pillar Credit, holding the octagonal token in his hand.

“Alright…” Nic grinned. “We’ve seen what they can do. Let’s show them what I can do.”

The light and sound of the world dropped away, and Nic’s consciousness was whisked away, into the internal space of the Totem…

---

He appeared in a familiar darkness, which rippled faintly underfoot as he walked.

“A second Credit already is really something impressive.” Sofia said, as she blinked into existence alongside him. “We may regain our lead against the other Settlements.”

“Actually,” Nic grinned. “I was thinking of going out and trying to deal with the Invader Settlement on the other side of us.”

“It won’t be as easy. They’ll be restrained to a lower level, but they’ll have the expertise of people who were born fighting, with dynasties of power behind them guiding their every step. Natives, by comparison, either live or die on pure talent.”

Nic paused, tilting his head. “How do they survive at all? Like…”

It was surprising how easy destroying Makepeace had been. Despite everything, the humans he’d faced had been unable to face off against him, and Nic was only one monster. Compared to the Invaders who’d been able to pay to bring their true bodies through, he wasn’t even that blessed.

“No, there has to be something I’m not seeing. Otherwise, the conquered world wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“When the Second Wave begins, you’ll see.” Sofia said. “Before the First Wave begins, the Natives are given three days in a dream realm to practice cultivation. Their performance determines how many Shards they receive. If they can’t achieve the least stages by day three, they are removed from the trial.”

“And what happens to them then?” Nic asked sharply.

“Nothing as bad as you’re imagining. The System wouldn’t waste them. They’re simply put in stasis, to be awakened when the world is settled and the Waves have ended. In the best outcome, Natives will still rule the world, and will welcome back their brothers and sisters with open arms.”

And if the Invaders won, they’d win a hundred million defenseless slaves.

“The First Wave is about proving they have the raw ability to overcome themselves. Their enemies are panic, self-doubt, confusion. Plenty of people who show immense merit at cultivation have no killing will at all, and will fall during this stage…”

“If they overcome those, they’ll still be behind beasts like you, and even further behind the Invaders. But if they survive until the Second Wave begins, that is where they’ll be given a chance to leap forward.”

So it was a filter. A way of separating those with the right instincts for life from those who would be blinded by emotion and make mistakes. Nic had felt powerful for wiping out the enemy in Makepeace, but in truth, he had just been serving the System by cleaning away a few undesirables.

Their mistake had been as simple as not taking the half-dead pink lizard on their doorstep seriously.

Their mistake had been letting him live.

“Alright.” He shook his head. “If that’s the way it is, let’s try to have the best head-start we can get. There’s a lot of Dominus Nodes on the way to Makepeace we can snatch up.”

“A good plan. For now, I’ve been collecting energy for the last few days via formations. We can make a few changes to our Settlement…”

Lifting her hand, Sofia conjured up a table made of liquid mercury. She dipped two fingers into the mirror surface, and as the ripples spread outwards, the shape of Winterhome rose from within.

Nic grinned. This was his favorite part. He only had to lift his hand and pour his aura through the medium, and the town would take shape. Nic could even see the tiny figures of the humans frighten back as a new pavillion rose from the lake.

This would be their training area. He created rows of sturdy wooden posts, meant to serve as practice dummies. As he sweated over the fine points, struggling to manipulate his aura enough to carve out certain details, Sofia laid her metal hand over his. Instantly their two wills stabilized the mercury.

Nic shaped three pagodas branching off from the pavilion, each with a small formation within to gather natural energy. The only decorations were stone meditation mats. These would be places for breakthroughs and meditation.

Turning his gaze inwards towards town, he brought up a new hut, long enough to serve as space for several workshops. This was even harder than the formations, because he had to design the forges, anvils, and other things the smiths might need, working at the scale of an ant’s kingdom.

It was only because he’d stolen Makepeace’s power that he could add so much. The initial bounty of energy on starting a Settlement was massive, but changes after the fact cost much more.

A hillside rose in the forest. Nic was sweating now, the energy within the Totem beginning to run thin. The best he could do was carve out some rough caves.

The beasts would want cultivation spaces as well, although he hadn’t been able to add any formations yet.

He stepped back, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “I think that’s all the small stuff…”

“Then let’s begin with selecting our second specialty.”