Grant

Jogging back towards the Hub, the leather pads of Grant's shoes muffled the sound of each step. Grant rechecked his survival sense. A middle-distance danger remained unchanged while the loose grip of inevitable death loomed behind it.

Hopefully, that was something that would be clarified soon. He still couldn't put together why he hadn't died yet. Mathew's plan to share his system information was naive, but at least it would help Grant understand where his magic had failed.

Even if Grant's survival wasn't due to Mathew, who somehow found the capacity to cure the mind poison, getting everyone to show their cards would help Grant solve the puzzle.

Unless his magic didn't fail and was always inaccurate? No, it had to be that his magic failed. Grant's memory shifted to all the things he'd done and neglected to do as a result of his sixth sense. Abandoning The Colony was the least of his moral failings if his magic was untrustworthy. The weight of Marabell on his hip felt like a noose. His memory of robbing a fresh survivor of their only weapon clubbed him with guilt.

No, no, Grant thought. I'm really being stupid, aren't I? Even if I am wrong- my magic is wrong, I still didn't know better.

Not the first time he'd had to put down his doubts, likely not the last, but that was the burden he carried. Even if he managed to pass along the torch of civilization, these doubts would return from time to time. So he buried them again, with calm conviction.

Stepping across the boundary from the fungal woods to the Spire, Grant felt his danger sense relax further. Adjusting the canvas sack of supplies ferreted from his hidden cache, he started climbing to the broken peaks. He suppressed his urge to douse his trail with ground Flintbark. Being tracked back to the Hub was acceptable; after all, they all needed to get used to monster attacks.

Getting into fights wasn't Grant's first instinct. To him, even poaching should be minimized. But he wasn't totally oblivious to Mathew's ambitions. Going to war and conquering Territory wasn't something Mathew would readily let go of. No, he needed some pushing. He needed those around him to experience danger. Then they could bunker down, build up power and-

The copper tang of blood grew heavy in the air. Empowering his Tracking skill, Grant replayed the recent combat as he climbed the Spire. While Combat Replay was usually good enough to learn something valuable, across the hard stone surface the perk was limited by the lack of information to match his Tracking skill levels.

Nevertheless, Grant watched the approach of the monsters in the recent past. Starting from where the border where to the start of a blood trail where they turned up the Spire's slope.

The others had picked a fight. Amber was likely the shooter.

Filing the fact away as a potentially powerful lever for manipulation, Grant strode up with a measured pace. He went slowly enough to gather all the information the monsters left behind. A moving sculpture of sorts, generated by Grant's intelectus. It started as thick clumps but gained shape and detail. A kinetic sculpture of clay that gained details as the sculptor toiled away.

Movement from the peak distracted his information gathering. Mathew's bulk and tiger-striped armor were clear enough in Grant's vision. Grant appreciated the restoration of his eyesight to that of his youthful days. One of the benevolent actions required by the abduction/raiding process.

Putting eyes on the corpse Mathew carried into the leather door of the Hub, Grant's tracking intelectus stuttered.

After a short pause for it to update, the entire approach and combat were shown in clear detail. Grant reserved his conclusions due to knowing that he saw one version of the fight, not necessarily exactly what happened. Still, if Mathew wanted criticism, he would get it.

The fighting clearly held some overarching tactics. But nothing really required Mathew to stand his ground and fight so poorly, did it? At the very least, follow up an attack with more aggression. Grant shook his head and thought to himself. Mathew is still too gentle.

Arriving at the Hub, Grant pushed the door open and stepped into the prison home. Warmth began to sink into his flesh and bones, stripping him of brittle tension and reminding him of the cold the spire and the fungal forest shared. With superhuman endurance and durability it was easy to forget the simple things sometimes.

Then the smell reached him. He was expecting the unavoidable offal of freshly butchered monsters and was surprised by the aromatic scent near that of stir fry. A scent where cooked fats blended against sweet peppers.

Clacking tongs at him, Harper spoke, "Come on in and close the door. Sooooo what did you recover?"

Her eyes sparkled with a vigor that Grant hadn't seen since The Colony. For a moment, he wondered if this endeavor was bound to a rhyming fate.

Grant stepped forward and opened his bag. The primitive container was extraordinarily fuzzy and, when left still, would naturally camouflage into the environment. Setting it on the countertop and losing the drawstring, Grant did not fear others knowing the contents. After all, he carried the most precious treasures on his person since leaving his cache.

Wearing a smile, Grant tried to earn some goodwill. Freely sharing his spoils and putting the pride of a hunter into his voice as he went. Just a little here and there. Over the years, he'd found that people responded nearly as well to slight hints of information as they did to constant messages. The difference was weight. The less he let people read him, the heavier they held any time they could get a read.

"This is a field testing set. The Colony gave one to each scout in the event they came across new materials worth studying. This section has a basic chemistry kit, and this part is for testing energy density." Grant brushed his calloused finger over the leather stitching. "Did some good work with this one."

"What would you be checking energy density for?" Harper asked while moving a cut of meat from the flame to the hot box above it.

"At first, we were looking for wealth." Grant sighed. "Our transportation to Leternum left everyone in a state of abject poverty. On Earth, the best way to generate wealth and beat back the inherent nature of poverty was by using stored energy as a force multiplier. Energy dense sources, coal and oil."

Grant continued. "It didn't take long to recognize that gaining stats would facilitate much the same capability without the effort to generate an industrial revolution from scratch. But some things are universal. The value of stored energy is one of them. Better fuel for the people, pets, and forges. Not to mention the importance of accurately gauging the strength within a Territory."

He realized he'd been talking for too long. "Speaking of, how strong were those monsters?"

Harper's sparkling eyes dimed before she answered. Oh, she wasn't much for violence, was she? Grant thought.

"They were just a scouting party. Amber and Mathew took care of them without needing the Hub's protection or any help from me."

Ah, Grant mused, So she's feeling insecure.

Having worked around Ben for so many weeks now, he felt quite adept at using that lever. However, it may serve him better to be more gentle in his approach with Harper. Her control over the Hub was enough to draw his ambitions to the cautious side.

Plus, he was almost done. Convince the survivors to bunker down and power up until they could stand independently. Sure, lives would be lost to the wilderness, but that wasn't new. There were always lives that couldn't be saved. The right choice was to prioritize those you knew you could save.

"So it wasn't too difficult then?" Grant asked.

"It didn't seem..." Harper leaned forward, uncertainty showing. "Mathew did seem kind of shaken up afterward. Any chance you could talk to him?"

"Oh certainly," Grant's smile was genuine. An opportunity to interrogate on behalf of another. "Where's he at now?"

Harper pointed to a doorway on the far side of the kitchen.

So much had changed about the Hub since Grant last took note. The entryway spread out more. Separating the hallway to the 'meeting room' and workshop from the stairwell down to the personal rooms. While the rest of the entryway between the kitchen and the door expanded into a larger dining space.

A living home was something he'd have to get used to again. Grant braced against the paranoia that his every move was being observed. No doubt Hint was watching him, but that didn't mean Grant should overreact. Instead, he tempered his response. Just watching what he said and did would be enough.

"Thank you." Grant stood and left through the door behind the kitchen.

On his right were shelves of a pantry, and to the left, he found Amber and Mathew processing a kill at a large table.

"Weren't here when we needed ya," Amber spoke. "Again."

Grant saw Mathew's eyes roll even deepset within his skull-like armor. "Hey Grant, glad you're back safe and sound." Mathew's earnestness caught Grant off guard. Mathew simply didn't have enough time to out-level Grant's Discernment skill with a deceptions skill. Not to mention Mathew had spent his time working on the chain skill. Grant shuddered at the memory. No, Mathew genuinely cared.

"It wasn't without incident, but nothing I'm not used to," Grant replied. "Amber, I thought you weren't going to be giving me a hard time anymore?"

"Nah, just treat ya fair." Amber grinned. "An' you said you'd take an equal share of risk. I'll believe it when I see it."

"Speaking of risk," Grant gestured at the body. "How did it go?" Grant watched Mathew closely.

Mathew stopped his work for the count of two before answering. "Is it always this much killing?"

"Depends on the situation... It'll only worsen if you're still looking to expand the Territory. A lot worse." Grant didn't even have to exaggerate to push his agenda.

A slam from the entry room drew his attention. Ben was huffing and puffing in the entry to the Hub. "Is everyone okay?" Ben yelled.

"We're all fine," Harper answered.

Ben dropped his bag of recovered goodies by the door and gripped his crystal necklace. Ben's survivor's guilt was still eating at him, apparently.

"How about we finish this after dinner?" Mathew asked Amber.

"Sure thing." Amber's bone fingers clacked against the butcher block as she down her knife.

"Find a seat, everybody. I'll bring the food." Harper commanded.

Going quiet and fading into the background of the conversation, Grant listened. It's a simple skill from Earth anyone could do, but too many were engaging in being the center of attention. Harper seemed to be thriving. Ben was doing his best to hide from his struggles, but he didn't fit in this environment yet.

Amber was always the mystery. Grant's system skill at reading people didn't seem to apply to her. His guess was that it was her freedom magic at work. Still, she seemed simple and Grant had decades of experience reading people.

Mathew was unusually quiet.

Maybe he was facing the burden of constant fighting that he was asking for? Grant could hope.

All that just for listening.

The tone shifted as Grant took another bite of pepper-laced meat.

Mathew cleared his throat. "So I'd like to start a thing we can do every supper time. Like I mentioned before, we should help each other with our strengths and weaknesses. Point things from a different perspective. So I'm asking for each of you to lay it on me. What are my weaknesses, and where do I need to improve?"

"You don't use your Mental Attack much, do ya'?" Amber asked. "Like day to day?"

"Ah noo," Mathew nodded. "I'm not really comfortable with all that power entails."

Grant was glad someone else mentioned it.

"Well, you're basically the Lord of the only safe plot of land. Get used to power." Amber pointed at Mathew. "You're going to be a leader if you like it or not. Nobody will be able to take anything you say lightly. Your opinion matters for better or worse. And there ain't nothing wrong with a good man having power."

Mathew nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll think on it."

"An' another thing," Amber said before taking a bite. "You have pooling magic but no skill for it. You gone through all that effort to get a skill of your choosing and can't even tie perks into your new magic."

Mathew nodded and took a breath-.

"-You also haven't experimented much with what your pooling magic can do. Least not that you've told me about." Amber paused, then nodded. "That's all for now. I'll tell you if I think of more."

"Don't get a big head either." Ben's brows were furrowed. "Overconfidence is a killer."

Those are my words. 'Overconfidence is a killer.' Grant thought with amusement. I guess Ben did value my lessons after all.

Ben continued. "As a combat asset, you're actually pretty limited. You need to learn how to leave your Territory, or a lot of the work will rest on those of us who can sneak."

"Thanks, Ben," Mathew nodded.

"Don't forget to be a person," Harper brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Like, losing yourself to being an Alpha monster wouldn't be good for anyone. But also taking care of your reason to fight. Don't ignore the good stuff that makes the suffering worthwhile."

Grant waited as each of them placed demands on Mathew. While he'd asked for it, the weight of the impossible demand to be perfect had to build up. Grant just looked for the signs. Mathew sighed when his lack of imagination with his armaments came up in conversation again.

Ah yes, the struggle between two efforts to be perfect. How to be a perfect killing machine and a person with sanity at the same time?

Striking while the opportunity presented itself, Grant spoke. "I think you need to take your leadership role seriously when others can get hurt. Going to war and asking for trouble doesn't seem like sound reasoning. People can get hurt and killed following you. Especially when there is so much to work on. At least consider taking a break to be human and get stronger."

Ben looked at him as though he had a banana growing from his forehead.

Mathew's eyes looked down in contemplation. That sign alleviated a chunk of Grant's worry. Sometimes when hearing outside ideas, people get overloaded. Grant had worried he'd waited too long to make his suggestions.

Again this is where being mostly silent lent him influence. When he spoke, his words carried more weight.

Mathew stood. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll be back with an answer on just that subject."

As he left out the darkened door to the Hub, Grant wondered if he'd actually done it. Usually, it was foolish to expect someone to change their mind after one conversation, but he couldn't have expected any better. Deep consideration and going for a walk maybe to get out of his own way and change his mind?

During the lull in the conversation, Grant checked through the status screen information Mathew had shared.

It took him a while to find what he was looking for:

Fate Breaker - Do the impossible, in this case complete a transition requirement without the necessary components. Broken free from chains of fate, you will naturally gather broken strands to empower yourself. For better and worse, your fate can no longer be tracked.

There it was. That was how Grants Survival magic was wrong. Mathew could impact fate without it being tracked. The inevitable death Grant had felt before succumbing to the mind poison was the truth as far as it could be known.

Grant took a deeper breath than he could before. The weight of guilt pressing on his chest evaporated. His magic wasn't wrong. It was just that Mathew made it recalculate around him.

Now anytime his magic told him he was going to die, Grant could shield himself with the uncertainty Mathew provided. Even the implacable grip of death Grant felt in approaching from a lifetime away might be averted.

With his first real smile in too long, Grant picked up a cup and took a refreshing drink. Maybe I won't have to live in fear anymore.

The clack of Mathew's step announced his return to the Hub. Grant's survival sense alarmed with an intensity he hadn't experience since a bear chased him to ground on Earth.

It clicked. He'd only been looking at the opportunity for immortality. The flip side was true, wasn't it? That he wouldn't see death coming.

Grant turned to take in the image of Clare Jackson with her hand on Mathew's arm giving him a toothy grin. "Hello, Grant."