Six hours. The worst and best six hours of my life. There was a certain elation that came with advancing my Legion’s capabilities. Terry inadvertently helped massively in this process. As before, our second floor for the Reaper HQ was devoted almost wholly to crafting and general “Science” if you could call what was going on here. It was closer to sci-fi if I was perfectly honest, and I’d given it the green light. There were some people, Fran, Daniel, Alice, Terry, and a handful of others who had access to very specific things in their shops that others didn’t have, myself included.

This was critically important because of the fact that absolutely none of the things that we’d purchased prior to now were available in the general shop. Anything that was counted as a weapon was no longer able to be purchased, as we’d discovered hours ago. Sis was still missing, none of the automated systems were working for information either. In fact, the only thing that was still working was our ability to gain and process M.E. into items. Why? Nobody knew or even knew how we could possibly find out.

However, I’d noticed the loophole fairly quickly. For some reason, those of us with classes seemed to still have access to all of the gear, weapons and all. And in spite of the wariness I felt towards certain aspects of Reaper gear at the moment, it would be utterly irresponsible to ignore the ability to actually arm myself and my people.

We also realized that Fran, Alice, and Terry had options that weren’t available to normal people. They didn’t have classes, though, but I suspected that perhaps while they didn’t have a solidly set class they may instead have a psuedo-class, or something of that nature. Maybe they were on the path to gaining a class and got partial credit? Just needed to fulfill some other requirements? Whatever those might be.

I certainly wasn’t complaining, but it definitely drew more attention to those of us who could. And, being the responsible leader I am, I forced the issue by abusing/using my rights as the Organization Leader to make available any items that someone else in the organization had access too. I did, however, maintain anonymity for anyone who was providing what, even if it was entirely involuntary at the moment.

Even if my burning curiousity really, really wanted me to learn who the actual fuck had nanites in the blood.

I was glaring at the screen, many options that I knew for a fact wouldn’t work with how my overall ‘build’ seemed to be going. Nanites, for example, were brutally expensive at about 1000 M.E., and they seemed to be of the basic variety. It seemed that what was available for everyone to purchase in this manner had been modified just based off of the Reaper gear I was providing.

For example, I had a Reaper Reaver Trench Gun that I’d purchased quite some time ago. It was a brutal weapon that would almost certainly make our jobs with clearing Wolven far easier, especially considering the rate of fire and crushing power of the weapon.

In the general shop, the closest thing I could find was the Reaper Modified Trench Gun. That was helpful, to be certain, it packed a helluva punch with modified casing and ammo that was designed with even more punch in mind, better fire-rate, handling, and effectively just seemed better than a regular gun.

But that was all, it was just better than a regular gun. It wasn’t the hellfire spitting abomination I had with me.

And it seemed anyone without a genuine class only gave a pale imitation indeed. Someone had demonstrated Fran’s magnetic weaponry, but with far less grace and finesse. I don’t think it was just skill, either, the magnets seemed less flexible. Less in control, though the power wasn’t much lower. Granted, Fran wanted to test the equipment and was able to punch through tank armor. While the imitation gear would manage it, it would only do so after charging for a moment. Fran seemed to be able to simply will her ‘feathers’ to do so and suddenly the tank armor was holier than swiss-cheese.

That was sobering to watch.

I considered that, looking over my own options in the store. It was clear that Fran had a very damaging kinetic attack, she could manipulate a battlefield, and could potentially deal more damage than me.

Yet, I had a full class. What was different?

What was I missing?

I shook my head, realizing this was foolish. Was I getting jealous of Fran’s weapons? Seriously? As much of a drawback some of the Reaper modifications to me had, there were quite a few more perks. Especially after breaking down some of the mental barriers between myself and Smith. Part of me worried about that, but I found that instead of making us more vulnerable to intrusion, it might actually make it harder. That and having instantaneous computer processing for my body was pretty awesome. Admittedly I had no idea if that would really relate to much since my reflexes had been honed significantly.

Amusingly enough, I noticed that there were a lot of teams that had taken up a similar composition to my own, albeit with their own flair.

Even Louis and his team were no exception. The team leader had donned medium armor, what looked to be a blend between conventional and power armor - a term some of the more enthusiastic people had taken too and run with - for a far more potent combination. Power armor was just another of many ways to say mechanized suits, though there was an invisible boundary in the categories. I’d noted idly that it effectively seemed to be mesh suits, exo-suits, power armor, and then finally full blown mechs. My own armor would fit into the power armor category, which I’d also learned had made quite an impact on a lot of people.

Almost every team leader had opted into a power armor variant, though others went with a much more covert option, the mesh suit. At face value, it was a second skin, or a bracing suit that helped with overall movement and to give that little extra oomph. Alice had something like that, but also had an exo-suit designed to further push her limits while maintaining light weight.

On that note, though, exo-suits were very diverse but usually didn’t cover quite everything. Finally, mechs.

‘We really need a garage.’ I groaned, looking out a window at around two dozen mechs, none quite so large and imposing as Daniels. The styles and armaments varied wildly, I’d just chalked mechs up to being something that you couldn’t reasonably move with your own human limbs without assistance. If my power armor lost a source of… well, power, then I’d still be able to move it with my own body. If one of those behemoths lost power, it’d stay right there. There were a good number of teams that had totally ignored the possibility of grabbing a mech, knowing that they were hardly the quietest things around.

I did feel the need to estimate that one particular team had been perhaps a little too zealous in their want for mechs. The entire team was mech’d out, all eight of them. Amusingly enough, they were all very flashy and I had a feeling I’d be using them as a shock-and-awe force.

There were limitations, though, and the majority of them were actually far less well armed than Daniel’s mech was. They’d had to resort to much larger power options, which I found odd. So far I’d rate them fairly highly in terms of usefulness… but the price tag.

I winced, watching them arm themselves with fairly basic weaponry, none of them foregoing a melee weapon.

Hopefully they didn’t just blow all of their M.E. on cool factor.

Slowly I shook my head and forced my attention back to the main matter at hand. I’d put this off immensely, mostly because these past six hours had been just so fascinating to watch. But now it was time.

Logistics, politics, and personnel changes.

“Matthew, you doing alright over there?” Doug asked, a few concerned looking assistants mirroring the underlying notion of his words. They were worried that I’d been going over things a little too much.

“I’m fine,” I lied through my teeth, “Going over all of these applications to the Legion, figuring out how we’re going to sort and organize our teams, and determining who will be in charge in what situations is important.”

“Yes, but taking a break is a good idea, too.” Doug walked up to me as the others resumed their tasks, not an insignificant number of them having been hired very recently by Doug, given the all clear by me, and then promptly settled in. The front desk had been thoroughly stocked, testing and general psyche tests taking form for those who wanted to join the Legion.

I blinked, realizing that Doug had no idea I was looking through various cameras in the building to split my attention to something not so mind numbingly boring as accounting.

“Doug,” I coughed, “I appreciate it, and I’ll take a break soon. I’m almost done with everything anyways.”

Doug quirked an eyebrow at that, “Done with looking over the personnel files, the request forms from Bulwark and Civic, or accounting for our current equipment and assets?”

“All of them?” I asked hesitantly, “That’s what I was supposed to do?”

For a few seconds the man stared blankly at me before shaking his head, “No, seriously, what do you have done so far?”

I was more than a little confused at that, “Here, let me send you the digital formats. Your printer upstairs has the rest.”

He blinked as documents started to fill in the Obelisk database that we shared, the specific one for his personal mail blinking rapidly. While watching him, I could see his eyes move back and forth, a deep frown on his face.

“Matthew, did you read all of these? No, uh, do you remember the details on Bulwark’s proposal for drafting civilians?” He looked up to me, glancing at the corner of his vision where he likely had the screen up.

I thought for a moment, “Yeah. To draft individuals in the general populace in times of emergency, limited in scope only to Civic sector as risk demanded and to allocate said personnel based on any gaps in Bulwark positions.”

His eyes widened a hair at my summary, “And do you recall your position as you wrote it, and your provided reasons why?”

Without missing a beat, I responded, “I absolutely rejected the proposal citing that it was too open ended and would be easily abused as literally anything in our current situation could be considered as a state of emergency. There’s also no note at all of how payment would be handled or the limitations on what would be allowed to be done. Without putting too fine a point on it, it basically turns Bulwark into an authorized dictator state. Not something I’m fine with having to put up with, though I’m sure it wasn’t the intent.”

“How did you read all of this and sort it already? I’ve been building up for days already and you’re done in an afternoon?” A mix between exasperation and disbelief bloomed on his face.

I strictly didn’t mention how I hadn’t been really putting my heart into this, “I do have a computer in my brain.” I offered instead, splitting my attention between sending out additional orders to some of the field operatives.

“I… okay. That makes some sense. Now, the more important question.” He stepped up to me, peg leg clacking against the tiles underfoot as he neared me and whispered, “When are you getting me one?”

I laughed, “Well, we can arrange that after we hopefully survive this. In any case, I have some more information to pass along.”

“Oh? More from the front?” Doug smiled, “Anyone found Wolven yet?”

I shook my head, “No, thankfully, but it seems that someone found a wolf horde. Shade helped them and a few other scouts clear them out, it was pretty clean business. They’re baiting the horde away and chipping away at… it.”

“What’s wrong?” Doug frowned.

“One second.” I blinked, receiving a direct message from someone.

I turned to Doug, “It seems your man has found Wolven. I’ll be focusing on this now, if you need me I’ll be in the war room.” He nodded, turning his attention to others even as moved to the larger room nearby. There were a few teams sitting around holographic projectors, discussing their builds and new tactics to incorporate and test. Heads turned at my pace, red pulsing across my suit as I felt my mind interface with the main screen.

More than a few teams turned their attention to both me and the sudden notification set out to the Reaper system. All at once the air turned tense, where small talk had been present was now an absolute awareness of what I was doing.

The screen shifted from what had been scrolling across its surface to a map, and then to the north, slightly eastward, was a red blob that belonged to a wolf horde a few hundred strong. This blob had two dozen blue dots that represented Legion members, as well as one larger white dot that represented The Sickle, my own sentient war machine that supported them. The red blob shrank all the while, being harassed on all sides, culled when they stepped too far forward. It was a safe process, mostly because the scouts were ghosts in the midst of the forest, hitting out of sight range, the distraction that Shade provided more than enough for them to get a handle on the situation, albeit a precarious one.

Five kilometers north-east, however, was a much larger crimson blob, one that lacked in defintion, only detected by the single blue orb that was moving to the south east of it, attacking it all the while. No one needed clarification on what that blob was. Wolven had been found, and it looked like Richard was harassing it.

The problem wasn’t that he was succeeding, it was that he was succeeding too well. The blob was rushing towards him, what appeared like tendrils on the map was more realistically charging columns of abominable malformed wolves that sought to attack him.

More than once, Richard dodged through the forest, seeming by inches. Each time, however, a large mass of those tendrils would quickly wither, and be disconnected from the mass.

Whatever strategy he was using, it was working wonders.

At least, it was until all at once the blob shuddered. Then, as dread settled in my stomach, it turned direction, advancing south west.

Straight towards the wolf horde.

I immediately sent the priority call to them. The message and position on the map noted clearly.

Composing that message and several others took nearly no time at all, but I knew that it would be close. I could only hope that these scouts were fast. And by fast, I meant inhuman speeds, because Wolven was moving faster than an Olympic sprinter straight for them.

I messaged every group that had fast movers in them, many of them arrayed in the north of Gilramore already.

With clenched fists, I watched the map, heart thundering in my chest all the while as the crimson blot that was Wolven came more and more into our range, more and more of it spilling into detection, and continued going. It was larger than we’d expected. A lot larger.