The actual ceremony was cut short by the transformation everyone witnessed. Dylan said some additional words, reading out the names of all the lost and detailing some of their exploits in life. A handful of the fighters, survivors of the attack on Summerfield, walked to the front and told of the last moments. The wisps of mana curled and twisted as they spoke, the strange shard of crystal throbbing like a monolith of death.

I recognized several of the people that went up to speak as the ones that had the Death Attuned wisps circling more vividly around them. There was definitely a connection there, but I wasn't in the headspace to draw it. Instead, I let the flow of the crowd take me back to Wildwood and to the edge of a bonfire that burned for most of the night. More stories, not only of the lost but also those who'd gone before, passed around the fire and I let myself be submerged in the identity of the town. Becoming part of the flow was easy when someone broke out the kegs to help grief.

Our little group of Bunkerites stayed somber through the ordeal. As the ones least invested in the lives of the people that died it felt somewhat disrespectful to dig in, but we made sure to act as the responsible adults when a few of the people got a bit too out of hand. And so, the day and night blended together.

The next morning, by the time I woke up, everyone had left the dojo apartment. I could hear quiet explosions and groans from outside. When I peeked out the window, I saw that Sarah and the Wild Guard were already up and at them. A more subdued group was lined up to the side with Ava. They looked younger, and I could only guess they were those who'd awakened a Gift but were not old or able enough to join the more... rigorous portion of the training the Guard had started using.

Somewhat at a loss for purpose I stood, ate a quick breakfast and started for the Crafting Hall.

Many of the regular people in town were still recovering from the previous night's rager, but a handful of crafters were still up and at it regardless. A small group of demon Fallen were flattening the dirt that had been turned over by all the people lingering on the dirt roads. One of them was even pulling a wagon with a water barrel to clean off where some people hadn't been able to keep their drinking to themselves.

Moving through town, I spotted a caravan with a squad of Wild Guard making its way north towards the bridge and the car wall. None of the people on it were the people from the other towns, so they had either left already or were still lingering in Wildwood. With the Dreg scattered and the teams of the respective towns now supplied enough to have climbed in Quotient, Stonecrest and Lake Weir were the safest they'd ever been. That was how much of a difference the Metiertech Implants made.

"So he hasn't died, has he?" Arnold the dwarf quipped from the top of the Crafting Hall.

More specifically, from the addition that had been made to my original Crafting Hall in order to accommodate all the people seeking to contribute to the fighting. Vibrosense told me he was working to densify the walls, expanding on the strong wall concept that I'd made with his help. I was fairly certain that if I kept training I would be able to match the density he was achieving with his Skill. For now, I could at least compensate with thicker walls and being able to repair them.

"Needed some space," I said, focusing on the ground below me. I didn't have my Antler Helm to Amplify to but my efforts manipulating the Amplified Skill still let me direct an empowered cast to lift me the ten feet to be level with Arnold. That it cost me half my mana pool and a slight twitch in my abdomen was a factoid I kept to myself.

"Heh. Well, it's good to have someone with half a brain for building. While I was busy putting through its paces, someone decided it would be a good idea to jump on the urban planning train."

I pressed my hand against the stone he was working and rapped on it with my knuckles. Constant ripples traveled down the whole structure, giving me a detailed view of where the construction had slacked. It wasn't terrible, but it could definitely use work if the expansion to the Crafting Hall was meant to be permanent. Eager to test my ability to shape , I agreed to do a correction of the structure. Arnold snickered as if he'd tricked me into free labor, but I just took it as training. Two weeks of only putting out fires and ambling like a zombie was enough time for me to realize that I was the only one falling behind.

Even in Infusion Crafting, which was the thing I'd contributed the most to Wildwood outside of combat, people were pushing ahead with their knowledge. I wasn't resentful of that, but it just served to highlight how much of a funk I'd let myself fall into.

When I followed Arnold into the building, I laid eyes on what had been Samuel's stroke of engineering genius. The magic, ox powered tank was a shadow of its former self. As I'd been told, it was the only reason the group had been able to upset the balance when the Death Crow Appendage had joined the fight. Samuel and the young operator he'd commandeered for the vehicle had struggled together to deflect the sheer death aura around the creature. Further, many of the range-proficient fighters had been tangled up with the bile bombardment that followed in the Appendages' wake. That, as told by everyone, was the moment that decided the fight. It was that moment when the biggest losses had come, as the bodies of the Wild Guards and other town fighters were melted from their very bones.

It was the moment that had left me freeing a half dozen people from the prison of Dreg Afflictions. There was still no easy solution to that I could think of, and my daily visits had only left me bitter as I watched the Afflicted work to reacclimate to their changed bodies. The Wild Guard trainees were heading up this effort, but they themselves were still coming to grips with the price that they paid.

"Ronan, you don't have to do this, you know," Arnold said gently, placing his hand on my arm and breaking me from my spiraling thoughts.

"Thanks, Arnold, but I do. And I don't mean just help with the building. People keep telling me I need to move on and accept, but I think I'm realizing that I'm not okay with that."

I turned to him and slapped my hand down on the tank, hard. The rotted wood buckled and the pitted metal groaned under my increased Strength. It wasn't impossible for humanity before the Fall to reach my level of Strength, but it required a lifetime dedication. Surviving long enough had been all I needed to do to gain it. Just like that, pieces started to fall into place in my mind. It was such a simple contrast, and it was also something that the Implants and the Entities had highlighted. Growth, and freedom to grow. To have infinite possibilities for the future, instead of being trapped by circumstance. The people of Wildwood had grasped for that, and it was the reason they were still alive today despite the price they had to pay, knowingly or not.

"I've come to realize that I am going to stay not okay until I can put some tracks on the crazy train that is our current world. So I will move on. I will move on to the next fight, the next person in need and the next god-damned thing that tries to take good and twist it for its benefit. They better hope they are prepared because they are not going to be able to foot the bill. The price we've paid is too much already," I growled. I ground my teeth to keep from snapping at the dwarf. It wasn't his fault and he'd been the one trying to comfort me.

"Good then!" Arnold called out, slapping me on the arm with prodigious Strength. "I was thinking loss had turned you into one of the numb folks. Good to know it just took some time to get your bellows going!"

My earlier thoughts were derailed by the sudden agreement from the man. That, coupled with the force behind the slap, was surprise enough for me to focus on him. His information manifested in the corner of my vision.

"When did you get to Q4?" I asked, surprised.

"You can't Infuse worth a damn if you don't have the mana for it. Plus, everyone and their auntie wants one of my . You think we only need people that can knock out a person with a flick of their finger?" he shot back, gesturing with his hand at the tank. "Some sorry bastard had to make the shield you tote around."

"I'll have you know, the sorry bastard that made my shield was Rommel," I added, smirking.

"Oh bloody hell. You know what I mean!" He sighed loudly, throwing his hands up in the air and walking back towards the garage-sized entrance to the room with the broken tank. He paused before glancing back. "It's good to have you back, Vanguard."

The man left without another word. His footsteps sent ripples that quickly blended with the busy hive of ripples that was the main building of the Crafting Hall. It was somewhat cathartic to watch his single set of ripples add themselves to the one of the masses, marginally augmenting the imprint the building had on my vibrosense. It was a good representation of what Wildwood had accomplished and what it was seeking to continue. Despite my moping around, the town continued to struggle and it was time for me to add my own ripples to their efforts. My friends were way ahead of me; it was a shame it had taken me as long as it did to figure it out.

---+---

The rest of the week was a blur. It was an exercise in discipline I hadn't had since living in the Bunker. Each morning I would do a round of general exercises, like I would have done as part of our health training in the Bunker. Except, the 'general' part of the exercise composed of the max push of anything I could have done before the Implants. A look at my Attributes put just where I stood in perspective.

Attributes:

Strength: 1.93

Mobility: 1.68

Perception: 2.20

Refinement: 1.54

Containment: 2.41

The Entities never specified which 'Average' they pulled the reference point from for the Attributes, but my six Quotients and the exertions of magic had pushed them almost a whole humanity's worth higher than when I stepped on the surface. As it were, my mana pool thanks to Containment and vibrosense due to Perception were my most outstanding and I tried to work those to the fullest. Apart from mile long sprints and full body workouts involving hunks of my , I worked to fine tune my vibrosense to avoid it being a hindrance during a fight by quickly switching between my first five senses and then only vibro. As for my mana, the work of revamping the expansion to the Crafting Hall proved taxing enough. If one considered that manipulating the shape of the spell chain for felt like turning my intestines into pretzels. Which I did.

Seeing the training Ava and Sarah set up for the trainees each morning showed me that while I could overwhelm most creatures we'd encountered with my magic, that wouldn't always be the case. Bad match ups with more intelligent creatures or similarly Quotient creatures, or both in the case of Appendages, would still leave me unprepared. Unfortunately, the world didn't wait for me to be fully prepared or for my abilities to be perfectly in my grasp.

On the fifth day after the memorial, while I was working out how to add crenellations using instead of a bunch of , Alan arrived at the Crafting Hall.