“Understand that I’m not able to tell you everything I know. My own people limit some things but, more importantly, Genesis itself limits a great deal of knowledge. Breaking its rules is a fast way to get killed and, well, I have every intention of living a long life,” Octavian begins. I didn’t think it was possible, but he appears even more relaxed, leaning the chair backwards and putting his feet up on the table. There’s no way that his culture has the same gesture, which means that the most likely explanation is that he knows it is disrespectful and continues to do it anyway.

He annoys the hell out of me, but I have to admit find that particular trait amusing when it is demonstrated on others.

“What I can tell you is that you should all be receiving some sort of notification within the next few days. Anyone who’s not in a qualifying city will be invited into one should they wish to compete. I personally think it is an idiotic way to decide on a leader but, hey, I’m not Genesis.”

Letting a hint of frustration into her voice, Mom responds, “Octavian, we agreed to your deal, but we don’t need your personal narrative. Just tell us the facts.”

Holding his hands up in mock surrender, he responds. “Fine, fine. You try to introduce a little fun into meetings and suddenly everyone is out for your head.”

“Should the person decide to compete, they’ll receive information about when the first Trial will occur. Past evidence suggests that it will be one week after the initial notification, but Genesis is nothing if not unpredictable. Each of the Trials will be based on principles of ruling and leading. They change somewhat frequently, but we usually see a few make their way into each contest.”

While this information is useful, the knowledge I really seek is regarding the nature of the first Trial. If I’m able to prepare for it and complete it with ease, then completing my plan will become much easier.

“And do you know the nature of the first Trial?” I ask quickly, not wanting to lose time to another long tangent or monologue by Octavian.

He turns and smiles at me, obviously realizing that I plan on competing and need the information in order to prepare. Everyone else most likely assumes I’m nervous or worried, but his knowledge allows him to see the truth. “No patience on this one. Yes, I do happen to know what the first Trial will be. In fact, it’s been the same one for hundreds of years with little to no difference.”

Taking a breath in suspense, he looks around and makes eye contact with everyone before continuing. “The first Trial is based on the concept of Defense. Genesis apparently only wants people who are strong enough to defend their people, even if the challenge is nothing but a Rank 1 threat. The format of the Trial is -”

“Whoa whoa, you can’t just drop something like that and move on,” Elias responds, raising his hands and giving Octavian a frustrated look. “What the hell is a Rank 1 threat? I’ve spent a good amount of time looking at the system screens, and I’ve never seen Rank mentioned anywhere, or any other type of threat classification”

“Elias, the amount of information I know but you don’t would surprise, offend, and perhaps even frighten you. Fortunately, I’m able to answer that question. The Empire of Sol Invictus developed a Rank system to accurately measure someone’s combat ability and the threat that they represent. Evidently people liked it, because other civilizations adopted similar methods. You’ll soon realize that Levels aren’t everything, Elias. In fact they represent very little. Ranking allows us to determine whether or not to fight or run away from things that could kill me without blinking.”

Seemingly offended, Elias crosses his arms and glares at Octavian. “So, what the hell is a Rank 1 threat then?”

“A Rank 1 is the lowest rank that can be given, and it represents a combat threat that must be taken seriously by other of the same rank. Imagine the Ranks as your creative Richter scale. The ladder is exponential and each rank is far more powerful than the one below. Now, to be fair, most of you and the rest of the people in Everwall can’t even be given that particular distinction. For the sake of description, let’s call most of you Rank 0. There’s two Rank 1’s in your city and even a Rank 2. You, however, are not one of them.”

The offense has now morphed into anger and Elias’s face turns cold. Only his eyes betray the truth of his feelings. “Well, thank you for that particular piece of information. Can you tell us who they are?”

Pondering the question, Octavian leans back and taps his chin with his index finger. Meanwhile, I stare at him in complete focus, wondering if he’d be willing to out me in front of the leaders. A cold fear spreads down my spine. Not like this. The information that Octavian has given and will give us is the last thing that I need to complete my plan. Once I’ve done so, I’d finally feel comfortable enough to tell my parents the truth and then slowly reveal myself to the city. If Octavian ruins that, then I’m going to have to make some very important decisions within the next few seconds.

“Well I could tell you that…. In fact, there’s no one and nothing who would mind if I told you,” he says slowly, drawing out each word as a serious look finally graces his face. After a few seconds of silence he turns to Elias and lets loose a mischievous smile. “But I’m not going to. It will be far more fun to see what those people do. I feel that I also do need to mention that without their help there is no way that the city will survive.”

Externally keeping my face and body relaxed, I let loose an internal sigh of relief. Plans and decisions had been rushing through my mind during those few seconds, and each one had filled me with anxiety. For the first time since I made my decision, I begin to feel … serious doubt. Not the doubt of guilt, wondering if lying to my parents was morally right, but instead the doubt of accomplishment, the fear that I may have made a mistake. Helldarvin has given me the Skills and drive to survive, but perhaps more insidiously, it gave me the opinion that I am stronger and even smarter than those who weren’t chosen. Since I come back, I’ve been treating each of my ideas as if they were only fallible through the actions of others. The realization of the power that others hold over the success of my plan makes me realize something; this path I’ve been walking down is only threatened by my own actions.

Before I can explore this idea any further, Octavian continues. “Now, if I may continue from the rude and unhelpful interruption, let us get back on track. The format of the Trial will be an attack on Everwall by a single or multiple Rank 1 threats. Whether it’s a pack of creatures from the wilderness, a band of young warriors from another world, or even a candidate for Primus who qualifies for a different method of becoming Primus, we won’t know until they show up. That’s what makes these things so fun! The Trial is completed when either the threat is dead or when a percentage of the city’s population is dead.”

Raising her hand to stop him, Mom speaks up, indignation clear in her voice. “You mean to tell me that for the entire time you’ve been here, over a week of us being annoyed by your obsession with idioms, you’ve known that an attack upon our city was imminent and you didn’t even think to mention it?”

“Well, where would the fun in that be Mary? But if I’m honest, I wanted to wait until every important person was together before I said anything. Not to mention, there’s a caveat to the Trial. If no one agrees to the competition, then the city won’t be subject to an attack. Obviously I want some of you to accept, but that’s not really my choice. I think your people have a relevant metaphor about teaching people to fish versus feeding them, but it’s a metaphor, which I think are annoying and pretentious.”

Both Elias and my parents go silent as they fall into deep thought. Obviously, the chance for one of them or someone from their group becoming Primus is an amazing opportunity, but they appear to be balancing it against the risk of having the city attacked by unknown forces. A quick jaunt into Elias’s mind confirms my suspicion, as he appears to be trying to calculate the maximum number of dead city inhabitants that would be acceptable. It’s certainly a mercenary way to look at the people, but it shows that, while he may not care for them individually, he still has some of their interests at heart. My admiration and respect for him only improves. He may not like me or my family, but he could help the city if he ever gave up his father’s anger inspired crusade.

My own curiosity gets the better of me as I realize that there is a wealth of information that Octavian has either left out or doesn’t know. “Can anyone enter into the competition or are there minimum requirements? Also, you never mentioned how you measure someone’s Rank.”

Amusement is clear on his face as he responds, “Another smart if somewhat impatient question. I knew I liked you. There are minimum requirements for entering the Primus Trials. The individual must have at least one Skill above Level 30 and they must be above Level 15. If I had to hazard a guess, but let’s be honest I’m not really guessing, I’d say you probably have … 22, maybe 23 people who qualify. Remember, only the two Rank 1’s and the one Rank 2 will have a chance of actually succeeding. The others will simply cause a loss of life for the city and potentially themselves.”

“As to your other question, I have no reason to answer. It has nothing to do with the Primus Trials, and everything to do with surviving in this little battle we call life within Genesis. "However," he said, drawing out the word for several seconds and ending with a wink, "I'm always willing to trade."

I was on the fence on whether or not I would approach him after the meeting, but the possibility of being able to rank combat ability is too useful to pass up. Levels are helpful, but they are too variable. Albasalas wasn’t particularly dangerous in combat, but she excelled at mental domination due to Skills. Meanwhile, Rolarch was entirely combat based and lacked any mental acuity that would help his survival. Hopefully Ranks are a more accurate form of identification that will help me realize whether I’ll win or get killed instantly.

“I also am required by the deal to mention that there are bottlenecks within each Trial. They change between each planet and the type of trial, but usually, only the top 25% of each round manage to make it to the next. Speed, efficiency, and objectives are just as important as actually surviving.”

While that is interesting, it doesn’t change my goals. If anything, it just adds further stress as I realize that I need to really go all out from the beginning. Hiding my talents and trying to do just enough to survive, an option I’d been lightly considering, is off the table.

Standing up, Mom looks down at Octavian, her shoulders tense in frustration. “So, what you are telling us is that not only are you admitting that you’ve been withholding this information for a week, you are also refusing to tell us the identities of the only people who can actually complete this challenge? How the hell is this supposed to be helping us!?” Her voice is raised by the end, still in control but making her anger extremely obvious.

Leaning back in his chair, his eyes go cool and, for a split second, I see a completely different Octavian. Instead of his trademark foppish humor, the intent to be annoying, or the desire to meddle, I see an iron will coupled with the intelligence to complete any task. However, it is gone so quickly that I can’t be sure I didn’t imagine it.

“Mary, without me you wouldn’t have known that this was coming, you wouldn’t know to prepare for an attack, you wouldn’t know you have a decent chance of surviving this, and you wouldn’t know the format by which the future leader of your entire planet will be chosen. You can sit here and accuse me of withholding information, which I most certainly am, but accusing me of not helping is simply not true. Out of all the possible cities, I chose yours, and the only way I profit is if you win. So how about you stop yelling at me and you actually go out and do all you can with the information I’ve given?”

Obviously, my Mom doesn’t handle his criticism lightly, giving him a quick thank you for the information and then stepping out of the room, my father following her and already bringing out a little notebook as she begins to rattle off a series of actions that they’ll need to take to prepare themselves. I don’t necessarily agree with Octavian’s methods, but he understands something that took her manager’s years to realize. Compliment my mother and you’ll have a good employee. Criticize and challenge her methods and you’ll see a force of nature.

Neither of them question the fact that I remain, because in their minds, I didn’t. As soon as they began to leave the room, I quickly projected a Mental Illusion that showed me stepping out with them and then walking away and back into the city. Normally, they’d probably stop me and ensure that I’m okay, but this isn’t the first time I’ve seen my mother in this state. The last time she was challenged like this resulted in her being in the office for nearly an entire month while she finished projects, and eventually she usurped the boss who put her in that state. I’d only seen her once in that entire time, her attendance at my chess tournament ruined by her constantly checking emails and barely looking up from her phone. I love my mother dearly, but I will be the first to admit she isn’t perfect. Although in this case, it is certainly to my advantage.

Elias quickly follows suit, walking over to Octavian and asking him to come to his father’s house within the next few days. He doesn’t see me, the illusion of an otherwise empty room filling both his and his retainer’s minds, but he leaves the room after getting confirmation that they will meet in two days.

As soon as the door closes, Octavian looks at me and smiles. I’d tried projecting the Mental Illusion into his mind as well, but, as with the time that I tried to Search him, an insurmountable wall blocks me off. “And then there were two. What can I do for you, Cael?”

Letting my projected Illusions dissipate, a formality as all the recipients are now outside of my range, I finally drop the act that I’ve been so careful to maintain since I arrived in Everwall. I hadn’t realized how draining it would be to act like my old self, to emphasize my former silent and restrained personality. I’d finally developed a measure of confidence, an attribute I’d been lacking most of my prior life. It had only taken an incomprehensible system of unknown magnitude sending me to a foreign planet filled with creatures that longed for nothing but my death to incite this change.

Sitting down in Mom’s chair, I look him in the eye as I respond. “Well, first off, I’d like if you didn’t hint at where I’ve been.”

He puts his feet back on the table, having taken them down when Elias approached him, and waves his hand nonchalantly in the air. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I enjoy irritating and frightening you far too much to give you away. May I also say, I admire you for keeping your little trip a secret. Don’t get me wrong, I think you’re an idiot for it, but it takes guts to stick to a flawed plan.”

If anyone else said that to me, I’d be annoyed, but these past two days have almost made me expect an insult in everything that Octavian says or does. Still, the little feeling of doubt returns before I manage to get rid of it by entering Effortless Presence. I usually try to avoid using Effortless Presence while I’m around others, as I’ve come to realize that the almost complete lack of emotion is dangerous. I’m an advocate for logic, but sometimes it needs to be tempered with the messier elements of the human psyche. Love and anger have their place. That place, however, is not when dealing with a being whose motivations aren’t fully explained and who seems to possess a frightening amount of information and power.

“I didn’t stay here so that you can criticize me. I stayed because I’m positive you didn’t tell them everything you know and I want to trade for information.”

“You really think I’m capable of subverting a Contract? I saw your eyes when I mentioned it for the first time. Everyone who didn’t see the notification was confused, but you had a flash of recognition, which surprised me. Tell me, what sort of Dungeon World would introduce you to System Contracts?”

Interesting, apparently he doesn’t know which world I was on, only that I spent some time on it. He’s not an idiot, he wouldn’t mention something like that without knowing that it would make me realize I have a degree of bargaining power.

“I’m not just going to tell you that kind of information without you also giving something up.”

His trademark smile remains ever-present on his face. “Well, obviously there are things I want to know, and there are things you want to know. I propose one of us asks the other a question, and if the answer is satisfactory, agree to answer a question from the other person. This continues until we don’t have any more questions or someone refuses to give an answer.” He claps his hands in excitement, taking his feet off the table and looking at me in a new light.

Thinking about it for a few seconds, I realize he’s given me a fair way of obtaining information. I nod my approval and he responds, “Fantastic, I love little games like this! I’m nothing if not magnanimous so I’ll let you start. I promise to be honest but I would recommend you don’t lie to me. I’ll know if you’re lying and I’ll end our little game then and there.”

What to ask first? A thousand questions run through my mind as I consider my goals and plans. Do I ask about his people and their Empire? Both Faul and Albasalas had been largely ignorant regarding the Universe at large. What about the Ranking system and how to identify Ranks? A Skill like that, or even a way of mentally figuring it out, would be hugely beneficial as I go up against others. I could even ask about his goals and see what he truly hopes to accomplish. I spend a long time considering it, Octavian not showing any annoyance at the wait, before I come to decision.

“Why Everwall?”

“Ahhh, an interesting first question. Not serious enough to make me leave, but enough to make me give you important information. You play the Game well, Cael. In short, I mainly chose Everwall because I was almost certain that someone of power, above the regular range found by people tossed into the fires of Genesis, would be here. Now, how I obtained that information is another question. Here’s a little piece of advice though: I will not reveal my source.” He ends with a wink.

Octavian then puts his hands together, intertwining the fingers as he looks upon me in interest. “I’ll start with my original question. What sort of Dungeon World would expose you to a System Contract?”

Well,, at least he didn’t start with a question I’m not willing to answer. Telling him about Helldarvin isn’t something I’m willing to end the game for. I have no idea what kind of information he’ll be able to derive from it, but that’s a risk I have to take. Perhaps it will even be in my favor. Faul taught me that Helldarvin was a planet that mainly dealt with creatures of physical ability, Albasalas being a rare exemption to that rule. If I’m lucky he may assume my Skills are physical in nature.

“I was transported to Helldarvin and was introduced to System Contracts by making a deal with an intelligent being.” Better to keep my answers simple. If he wants more information then he will have to waste another question asking for clarity.

“Interesting. The Qual’Fan aren’t exactly known for their love of intrigue. I’m surprised they didn’t just bludgeon you to death. Unless, of course, your little Contract wasn’t with them, and was instead with some other intelligent being on the planet.” Concentration and focus override his smile for a split second, and then he laughs in amusement, shaking his head in surprise. “I’d expected you to play well, but this is downright delightful! Your mother and the rest of the people in Everwall are intelligent, but they are just soooo boring.”

Before he can go any further, I interrupt him with my next question. “Will you teach me how to see Rankings, and what will it cost me?” It took me a few moments to come up with the exact wording of the question, but I’m happy with the result. Better to get this out of the way early on instead of saving it in my back pocket and losing the chance to learn a potentially life saving Skill.

“Ahhh, I wondered when you would bring that up. I can teach you the bare bones of discovering a combat Rank, but whether or not I do will depend entirely on your next answer.” Leaning forward, he looks into my eyes and I can see the iron will hiding behind the mask of humor once again. “What is your Class? Not knowing what it is has been frustrating me since I first saw you. I don’t just want a simple answer though, I also want an explanation on what it is and how you received it. If you explain things fully and honestly I will give you the method to learn the simple version.”

I think, for the first time since I met him, I manage to catch Octavian completely off guard by my response. Chuckling to myself in amusement, I nod my head. Telling him my Class poses no risk because it is only temporary. Whether or not it is possible to change your Class later on, my current one is only a temporary placeholder for one that I will unlock at a later date, my current theory being when I reach Level 50. Given that I have no idea what it will be, Octavian effectively just gave me his information for almost nothing.

“My Class is called Latent Talent. It is a Temporary Class, and it is an (R-?). I received it as one of my three options upon reaching Level 25. In all honesty, I have no idea what it will turn into, but for the moment, all it’s done is open up a related Way that I’ve been investing points into. That’s all I know.”

The look of confusion on his face is something I’ll never forget. The confusion quickly turns into frustration and muttering. “A Temporary Class? What in Sol’s name …” The muttering ends as he realizes that he is speaking out loud and he regains control of himself.

“I’ll be the first to admit, you caught me off guard there. But a deal is a deal and I never break my word. I’ll need a day to grab the necessary things for you to learn about Rankings, but I’ll find you tomorrow and we can commence then. Now ask your damn question.” Childish indignation on his face, he crosses his arms and uses one hand to wave me along.

I pause for a minute, considering all the possible options in front of me. I’m not particularly happy about Octavian’s delay, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Either he turns up tomorrow and gives me what I need, or he doesn’t and I learn that he isn’t to be trusted. The next thing I need from him is more information about the Primus Trials, an edge that will allow me to get ahead.

Slowly enunciating my words as I speak my thought process out loud, I respond, “I think you know more about the Trials then was said at this meeting. I’m not going to ask about specific things because you’ll possibly claim that you can’t say and it will end this exchange. Instead, I’ll ask you this. What is the single most important piece of information, which wasn’t covered in the prior meeting, you think I need to know about the Primus Trials?”

He taps his chin in thought as I watch him process the question. “Hard to say. Your annoying Class makes it hard to Rank you but I get the sense that you can handle yourself in combat. If I had to give you one piece of information … I’d say that it would be this: don’t underestimate others.”

His response confuses me. Don’t underestimate others? Of course I wasn’t going to underestimate the competitors. It seems unlikely that the First Trial will include a confrontation between myself and others, but if it does, the last thing I’m planning on doing is underestimating them. “Can you explain that? Without your reasoning it is a pretty useless piece of advice.”

Running his hands through his hair, his voice adopts an exasperated tone. “Look, you’re smart, I’ll give you that. But it took me less than two days to be able to tell you are an idiot regarding other people. I’m not just talking about your parents, I’m also talking about your decision to leave that idiot in the warehouse alive.”

Freezing completely, I narrow my eyes. From what I could tell, no one apart from Adrian had been in the warehouse with me when I left. It’s possible that he could have stumbled onto him later, but it would be an almost impossible coincidence. Instead, it is most likely that he’s kept me under some sort of surveillance, a realization that frightens me with its implications.

His voice slowly becomes more and more serious.

“Oh, don’t be so surprised, I wanted to make sure you made it to the meeting. More importantly, that idiot tried to kidnap you. He saw your face, threatened you, and then you just left him with nothing but a little bruise. You think he’s going to forget what happened? He woke up with a headache and then immediately went to Doc to tell him.”

“You seem to have the bad habit of underestimating people, and it will get you killed in this competition. I don’t care what you saw on Helldarvin, that was absolutely nothing compared to the war that is the Primus Trials. Fellow contestants are going to go after any advantage they can get. I’ve seen contestants kill entire cities just to try and get an edge. I’ve seen people whose lives were saved multiple times over sell out their own contestant just for the smallest piece of power.”

“If you keep underestimating your parents, the people that stand against them, and the people in this city, then you’re going to die before the Third Trial, and I’ve got a vested interest in making sure that that doesn’t happen. You aren’t the only person from Everwall who has a chance, you’ve just got the best odds.”

“You aren’t strong enough to do this thing by yourself. Plan accordingly.”

With that he stands up and walks out of the room, the complete shock from his almost angry tirade confusing me to the point where I don’t know what to say.

Octavian quickly leaves the room, chastising himself for losing his cool at the end. If he was honest with himself, being around these humans, and the pressure of his potential decision, was slowly eroding his once perfect façade. They were too unpredictable and he refused to be the arbiter of their death without complete assurance that they posed a threat. Not that his rant hadn’t been helpful, though. Cael had displayed some remarkable Skills while he’d been watched, but the kid was terrible at dealing with others. Better to hurt him now and see him survive than keep his silence and lose a potential ally.

More importantly, however, he needed to send some information back to Sol. In all his studying, he’d only ever heard of three cases potentially involving a Temporary Class and he’d never once heard of a (R-?) rarity. He’d been invested in ensuring Everwall’s victory, the potential revenue from this planet representing another helpful addition to The Market, but now he felt obligated to seek out answers before he took his next step.

Fear, confusion, and nervousness wash over him as he begins to sprint back to his people’s camp, the implications of his discovery threatening to overwhelm him.

Of the three cases that had been rumored to involve a Temporary Class, the latter two had resulted in planets being purged by Samael. That wasn’t what was so frightening to Octavian, however. What truly scared him was the person who had been the first rumored case. The boogeyman of the Empire. A figure who had terrified and interested him his entire life.

Bine the Lesser.