The “backroom” was not so much as a room, or in the back, but in fact, an underground bunker. Truly, one had to walk through winding corridors, walk down a circular flight of stairs, follow another long chain of tunnels, this time made of granite, rather than marble, and finally one would reach a tall double-door in front of which armored guards stood, in heavy plate armor. The door itself was more impressive than anything else the group had seen so far. It was so heavily gilded in gold that, by itself, the door was probably more expensive and the group’s entire equipment. That was before counting the constellations of dozens of large precious gems that decorated the door, or the magical sequences contained within them.

“Welcome to the Inner Sanctum,” Tilly said, bowing her head, and went to walk back the way the group came. She exchanged a glance with Damien, and perhaps seeing the quiet Assassin's smile, Tilly giggled and almost walked into a wall. Likewise, Damien, not realizing the group stopped, walked into the back of Fang and made a silent apology. It seemed like he was over the moon. Tilly had noticed him. And what a reaction! Aren could almost read Damien’s mind — although the Assassin had not spoken a single word in all the time they were together, his mannerisms said more than words ever could. He wore his heart on his sleeve and it was quite a refreshing thing to see.

Fang smiled at Damien and nodded, accepting the apology. It seemed Fang was also pleased that Damien received a favorable reaction.

One of the guards, clearly distinguished by the different design of his armor, touched several of the large gems which lit up with arcane light, and then the door opened by itself. The group was escorted into the room that was fit for royalty. Everything within the room was gilded with gold and decorated with tassels and golden filigree, from the luxurious seatings to the tables, cupboards filled with drinks and various other furniture filling up the space of the large room.

The group had just managed to get seated before their expressions relaxed. It seemed like Aren was the only one who thought this whole thing was pretty cool — and dangerous, of course — but the others leaned more towards worry and concern. Aren did not know, but this kind of reception was largely unprecedented. If the Sovereign of the Coalition were to enter an Adventurer’s Guild, they wouldn’t be escorted into this room if it weren’t for the fact that it would be a political disaster.

This kind of thing was extremely rare, and reserved only for the greatest of the great. And that was a huge problem.

“We should’ve waited longer,” Fang whispered. Each day, Aurora’s favor has been becoming more and more of a curse, rather than a blessing. It complicated things beyond the realm of comprehension. It was like Estella said: Gods do not care for our mortal opinions. To Aurora, her boon was surely that — a boon. But Aurora could not step out of the limits of Singularity and understand the potential impact her boon could have. The fact that Aren was in this room was probably enough to raise his Citizen Class, simply because of the exclusive interviews he could provide to modern media outlets. In fact, just having someone this famous in their Alliance was enough to get him a signing bonus that could absolve his family of all real-world debt.

It was absurd.

“We might have to move,” Nissa replied to Fang with a whisper.

“Go where? The old world?” Fang asked.

Nissa shrugged. The others also seemed deep in thought, perhaps considering their own options. Estella was the only one who didn’t seem that concerned. Either she was a great actor, or her circumstances were very special.

“What about Sec-9’s alpha?” Aren offered, and the group turned their heads to stare at him as if he had fallen from the moon.

“Are you insane?” Fang asked.

“How?” Nissa asked at the same time.

Cassandra licked her lips, opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

“I am just saying, it might be a possibility,” Aren explained. “They are moving me there soon. Today, I think. I could request that you also receive access, and I have a feeling that this might not be too much of an unreasonable thing to ask.”

A pall of silence descended on the group. No one said a thing for almost a full minute. No one was even exchanging looks, or communicating with their body language. They were all deep in thought, eyes set either on the distant horizon, or something deep in the core of the planet — if Singularity was a planet to begin with.

The idea of actually moving, no doubt, scared them. Nissa’s suggestion was half-hearted at best. Yes, there was risk, but there was no guarantee such a risk would materialize. The idea to move into an Arcology that was dedicated to government function and the military, on the other hand, was outrageous. And also a great idea. No one could reach them there. The whole world might implode on itself but alpha would remain. Forever.

Before they had a chance to discuss it further, a mature woman entered the chamber, flanked by an assistant and trailed by a pair of guards. The guards took their post at the sides of the entrance, while the woman and her assistant — a young man with black hair — took their place at the table. The woman was sat down in a chair, while her assistant stood off to the side, holding a stack of papers.

“Greetings, young adventurers,” the woman said, smiling to each person in turn and starting with Fang. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to the Inner Sanctum. We don’t often use this place, but we are looking to change that.”

Fang nodded, and the group remained motionless, save for the scarce smile directed in the woman’s direction.

“Why are you all so gloomy? Did something happen?” the woman asked. “This is a great occasion, you should be happy! Such famous bravehearts are coming together to form a clan. Ah, the things you can accomplish; I cannot even imagine.”

The assistant perhaps understood a cue or signal, and decided this was a great time to drop the stack of papers onto the table, and they produced a terrifyingly deep sound on impact. Just how many forms were there?

“If you don’t mind, I would like to know something,” Fang inquired, tilting his head in a business-man-like way. He was really good at negotiation. And scheming.

“Go ahead,” the woman said. “By the way, you can call me Eli.”

“Eli,” Fang said, repeating what was obviously a nickname. Only the barest hint of his displeasure was briefly visible, and Aren knew why. Clearly, Eli was a very important representative of the Adventurer’s Guild, and they were already on a nickname basis.

“Yes?” Eli asked.

“I would just like to confirm something. Why do you keep saying we are famous?” Fang asked.

Aren tilted his head. Yeah, why did she, and others, keep going on about fame? They were supposed to be well-liked, but their reception was going far beyond the realm of mere platitudes.

“That is easy.” Eli laughed. Perhaps she was expecting something else from Fang. “You killed the One-Eyed King, and liberated Rakab, for the most part. Cleaning up the orcs remaining there, without their leader, is just a matter of time and effort.”

“But we never claimed the glory of that deed,” Fang said, tapping his finger on the table. “The announcement was that it was done by an anonymous group of adventurers.”

Aren blinked. Fang was right. How did the Adventurer’s Guild know?

“I cannot tell you,” Eli replied, smiling. “However, what I can tell you is that your deeds are visible to the Gods. We also know about you more than you might think,” Eli explained, nodding to Estella. “For example, I know she is favored by Aurora — a crusader in the cause of Light.”

Estella smiled, bowing her head to Eli. She didn’t seem concerned at all about the fact that Eli knew of her or her blessings.

Aren gulped. He was starting to sweat bullets.

“Fang Zhao, you are a seven time champion of the Junior Arena, although you cheated against Ame when you claimed your third title.”

Fang’s expression darkened. Aren could actually feel his malevolent aura filled with bloodlust.

“Cassandra Brangold, your connections are well known to us.”

Cassandra frowned. Eli hit a nerve with that one.

Eli’s gaze passed over to Damien, lingered on him for a moment, before coming to Nissa. It looked like she was about to say something about Nissa before her eyes firmly fixed on Aren, and her expression brightened.

“And you, young man,” Eli said, chuckling as she leaned back into her chair.

“Stop!” Fang exclaimed, slamming his fist into the table. “We get it.”

“You do?” Eli asked, her fingers intertwining together.

“Yes,” Fang said. “I don’t know how, but it is obvious that you have information on us no one in the world has or can have.”

Nissa nodded in agreement.

“Excellent,” Eli said. “In that case, allow me to explain something. We are not allowed to share information about you. It is a Binding Oath. You understand? I — and many like me — are physically incapable of speaking about these things. Not just physically, but mentally as well. If you were to ask me about someone, that knowledge would temporarily disappear from my mind. It is that simple.”

“I understand that you are implying that we can be open and honest,” Fang said. “But why should we believe you?”

“I can prove it,” Eli said. She reached into the pocket of her tight-fit pants, and withdrew what appeared to be a silver coin. She placed the coin on the table, for everyone to see.

Fang looked at it and nodded. “I see. Very well, I believe you.”

What did Fang, and possibly the others, see in that coin that convinced them? To Aren, it looked like an ordinary thing. The side of the coin that was up simply had a wreath and nine stars in a diamond-formation on its surface.

“So, how can I help you?” Eli asked, crossing her shapely legs.

“We want to register a clan,” Fang said.

Eli snapped her fingers. “Done.”

Aren didn’t notice it immediately, but many of the blank fields on the topmost form were filled out suddenly.

“Name?” Eli asked.

“Exalt.” Fang said.

Eli was looking at the coin, reaching towards it, when her gaze shot up and speared through Fang. “Interesting choice,” she said, tone reserved.

Fang smiled. That had to be the best poker-face Aren had ever seen. If only the rest of the group could manage one half-as-decent. What was it about the word exalt that made Eli react the way she did?

“Leader?” Eli asked.

“Aren,” Fang said, nodding to Aren.

“Aren, no last name. Interesting. An orphan? Refugee?” Eli asked.

Aren could not, for the life of him, remember which background he picked when he generated the character. All he knew was that it didn’t ask him for a last name, and with his lack of creativity, that was perfect. He didn’t care about Singularity back then either, and he only generated his character because he had to. Two hours a day, that was the minimum quota that he had to spend in the world to qualify for citizenship.

“Co-founders?” Eli asked.

“All of us.”

“Very well.” Eli nodded. She didn’t make any motions, but the group knew that the paperwork was getting filled out.

“Finally,” Eli said. “I imagine you will want to make certain requests. Go ahead.”

Fang nodded. “We want to claim Rakab for ourselves.”

Eli raised an eyebrow. “As a Kingdom?”

Fang shook his head. “As a territory for now. For our Clan Holdings.”

Eli considered the words. “Will you be rebuilding the city?”

“Possibly,” Fang replied.

Eli looked at her assistant and made a beckoning motion to the man. Her assistant opened his satchel, rummaged around in the contents, and pulled out a heavyset, leather bound book, which he handed over to Eli.

Eli opened the book, right in the middle, and read the first page that came up.

“There is a lot of interest for claiming Rakab, and it seems as if an auction is taking place soon to sell ownership of the region,” Eli explained.

Fang frowned. “I see.” On one hand, this was too soon, and on the other, it seemed to have been too late. Things never went smoothly in Singularity, did they?

“Tell you what, I will register Exalt as the rightful owner of the Rakab territory,” Eli said, and marked something down in her book with a phantasmal, invisible pen.

“Really? What about the auction?” Fang asked.

“What? It’s not a legal auction. Adventurers can’t simply decide to sell off regions they do not actually own,” Eli explained. “It might still cause problems though. Beyond Leone, the Sovereign’s Law is difficult to enforce. The matters of adventurers… that is for adventurers to solve.”

Fang frowned. It was a classic pyrrhic victory. They got Rakab, but they might have to defend it from a large Alliance that has the funds to buy a whole region.

“As for rebuilding it,” Eli spoke of her own accord. “If that is your intent, we can help you.”

It was Fang’s turn to raise an eyebrow. “Help us how?”

“We can provide materials, workforce, and security, if you decide to do business with us,” Eli said, leaning forward once more. “What do you say?”

“I say what do you mean by doing business with you?” Fang asked.

“We, the Adventurer’s Guild and you, would be partners,” Eli said. “You would give us the rights to build and expand on the ruins, and in return, you would receive a share of the profits. We are thinking of building a mining outpost, or a manufacturing town, at first.”

Fang thought about it and then said: “I will have to discuss it with my comrades first.”

Eli nodded. “Very well. You should do that. You can contact me with this amulet, once you make a decision.” Her assistant got an amulet from his satchel and handed it to Fang, although at first, the man was confused if he should be giving it to Aren, the leader, or Fang, the negotiator.

“As a reward for the One-Eyed King, and a show of our goodwill and support, we will help you build the Stronghold. Simply submit a design with us, and we will take care of it. We can even send an architect your way.”

Fang nodded. “That would be much appreciated, Miss Eli. Please send the architect at your convenience.”

Eli smiled and stood up. “Excellent. That concludes our business I believe, yes?”

Fang nodded, also moving to his feet. The rest of the group followed.

“Good,” Eli chirped happily. “Let me congratulate you on creating a clan, and may your fortunes and fame continue growing. I have a feeling that Exalt will become very, very famous. Do not forget about your friend Eli, and the Adventurer’s Guild, when that happens. Have a good day, young adventurers.”

When Eli left, with her entourage, the group was standing in stunned silence. The totality of everything that happened in that negotiation hit them all at once. The Stronghold, the prospects for the future, the enigma of Exalt, the Rakab region and the untold wonders beneath the ruins, it all became possible, if not almost guaranteed, in the span of fifteen minutes or so.

Estella was the first to cheer, with a semi-reserved ‘Yay!’ but then the rest of the group followed and within the span of a second they were all pressed together into a monstrous group hug, some cheering and screaming, others laughing maniacally.

They made it. They could achieve their dreams. Fortunes, fame, citizenship, high citizenship class, all these things weren’t just a possibility anymore, but within reach. They could almost see the wonders of tomorrow, taking form before their eyes.

Sure, it was dangerous. Sure, there were problems. But it wasn’t just a distant thing anymore. It wasn’t just a dream. It was reality.