A second wall surrounded a small area in the center of Fort Colon. From the outside, it looked like large stone bricks were used in equal measure with metal to create the monstrosity that was the inner ring. Smoke hissed, gears swirled, stone stood still. On the inside however, was an extremely rare metal. This was the true wall. This metal was pounded so thoroughly by master smiths, that if one looked at it from a certain angle, it would be invisible.

Scrawled across its surface, were a series of arcane texts. Some were elegant. Some were jagged and rough. Some seemed done by a child. Hundreds had been involved in the process of making the strongest fortification resources could buy. All had been sworn to secrecy. A wall that even tri-system users would find hard to pass. This thin sheet was the true treasure; the stone, machines, and steam were diversions.

For a Reform city to be recognized, two criteria needed to be net. Foremost, it needed to have survived independently for at least one-hundred years. Secondly, they were mandated to have a wall —constructed by the Guild— protecting an inner sanctum. The Guild demanded these. If a city could not protect its elect, it was not worthy to be a city. If it could not protect its people, it was not worthy to be a city. Many cities had tried to pass these requirements. Half as many had fallen to ruins —costing the lives of hundreds of thousands.

But when the two elements were brought together, the city was validated. The Guild would start construction on its necessary buildings, and a mayor would be elected by the populace. This was the requirement to be validated as a city, and to have a mayor appointed. In the center of recognized cities sat a plethora of buildings, a single tall tower in the center.

This tower was a symbol of the Pearl Necklace. Resembling the elevator which would transport from Start to eternity. This was the Mayor’s Tower. Each mayor was given a tower reaching higher than all the Guild buildings. Showing that though the Guild protected the people, the mayor was the one who cared for them. The mayor was both of the Guild, and independent. A checks and balances system. The roles of Guild and mayor were decided by the Reform Dev itself. The laws they enacted, or their inner workings were handled by the Reforms. Afterall, the species was constantly changing, as fickle as the evening tide.

Around the tower, was an open space. The space could easily fit hundreds of thousands of people. It was small, but only in relation to the city as a whole. Against the wall, facing the tower, were all the Guild’s buildings. Ranging from shops, to trainers, to bars, to banks, to administrators.

In the Moat —the name given to the open space between the tower and Guild buildings— were countless adventurers. Fort Colon had called an important meeting that all adventurers that were able should attend. It was a polite way of telling the populace that there was a lot of riches to be made should they come. And they came. In cities along the outskirts of Reform civilization, similar gatherings were being held. A projection of August addressed the millions of adventurers.

“So as of today, all outskirt cities are on high alert,” August said, in the middle of a planned speech, “There will be mandatory checks at the gates, plenty of quests, and rewards for valuable information. The quest boards will be updated, and administrators will be able to answer any questions you have. Thank you for your time, and happy hunting.”

Projections across New Earth simultaneously shut off. August sank into the plush couch behind him. He rubbed his temples as he rested his head on the backrest. He cracked an eye open at the sound of ice hitting glass. A sphere of ice rolled around in the glass of whisky.

“You look like you need this,” Sam said, holding a glass of her own. August knew she never drank, it was just to make him more comfortable.

“Thank you Sam, I really do.” He reached over and grabbed the glass off the tea table. He took a small sip, letting out a discontent sigh.

“You’ve waited this long already August, waiting a little longer won’t kill you,” Sam said, taking a seat across from him. She kept her posture straight, knees touching, hands in lap. When they had first met, August had thought she acted like this solely to strangers. Centuries of getting to know her dissuaded the fact. She didn't act professional, she was professional. Professional and shrewd.

“I know, but the closer I get the more anxious I am,” he sat up a little, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his right hand.

“What will you do after?” His hand froze at Sam’s question. Sam was curious about the future. And maybe, she had motives of her own.

“I don't know. I would like to travel again, but we made a sacrifice when we came back. I do like my job. Being able to prevent it from happening ever again is fulfilling.”

“I heard you can ascend again if you kill a fellow returner.”

“Yes but there's only two multi-system users we sensed here. I believe the Warden never ascended, and I would prefer not to kill an innocent if possible.”

“We can discuss that later. What would you do instead?”

“I’ve always wanted a nice cottage.”

“Would you start a family?” Sam’s eyebrows raised slightly.

“I guess that's a question I need to ask Cleopatra. When we get her back.” Sam remained stoic at the mage’s words. She continued with her questions.

“Are you going to kill him?”

“Yes. I have to. As long as the Warden lives, they are all trapped.”

“There’s no way you’d change your mind? Though his actions hurt you, I heard he did it for the greater good. Was he not saving us from infiltration?”

“Sam,” August’s voice started to get emotional, “I don’t think I could live with myself if I let him go. One-thousand years! He took her away from me for more lifetimes than any have lived before Start! Could I look at the face of her captor, and just look the other way? Even if there was another way, I would finish it once, and for all.”

“What if you weren't strong enough? What if you are the one who is finished?” Sam Colon’s voice remained the same, but August felt that she was worried.

“Then so be it.”

“No matter the consequences?”

“Even if I have to sacrifice everything.”

“Everything?” Sam looked straight into August’s eyes. August had long suspected what her true feelings were. However, he could not reciprocate. His heart belonged to another. There was only enough room left over for a friend.

“Everything.” August put the nail in the coffin. Sam looked down at her hands. They were still. She nodded to herself once, before speaking once again.

“What is the plan for scouting? We are unaware of his position at the moment, correct?”

“For now,” August mentally relaxed. He was worried their whole friendship would be ruined. “He revealed himself once. He will do it again, it is just a matter of time. And time is on our side. I want to send out some initial parties, just a small batch of adventures. I want them to be teams of five, and used to working together. We will send them with vague instructions. If we are lucky, they might scare him into revealing himself once more. If we are unlucky, maybe we can get a hint of his whereabouts,” August finished elaborating on his plan. The finer details the two of them would have to iron out later.

“I would like to make a suggestion for one of the teams,” Sam stated when he paused.

“Oh? Who?”

“There is an adventuring party known as ‘Jenny and Co.’, I would like to send the three of them with two foreign adventurers who just entered the city two days ago.”

“Wait, when did you hear about foreign adventurers? I had tripwires up around both of our rooms and nothing went off.”

“I hear about everything that happens in my city.”

“Ah I guess a girl needs to have her secrets,” August laughed, an old mindset to match his middle age body. Sam just smiled robotically in response. August continued, “Why these two? Isn’t it odd that two ‘adventurers’ waltzed into our city right before I announced the multi-system users?”

“That's exactly why I want them in the group. I know who they are, and I want to keep my eye on them. Jenny and her teammates are surprisingly strong for their levels. Not to mention, their teamwork is fantastic,” Sam reasoned.

“Who are they?” August couldn’t help but ask.

“They are both from the Faction of the Mind.” Sam immediately caught August’s attention. He lost his composure for a moment.

“Here?! How do you know? Why are they here? Does this mean it really is the Warden? It was the only possibility, yes, but this is a hard confirmation.” August leapt to his feet and paced back and forth in front of the velvet cushions.

“The faction tell sign.”

“But don't you need another person from the same faction to see their symbol?” August looked to Sam, a light bulb going off in his mind, “Oh! You were once a member of the Faction of the Mind right? Didn’t you leave at the start of the Era of Realism?” He got no response from Sam as he continued, “Somehow you must have left without tripping any of my alarms. When you got close to the newcomers to investigate, their symbol lit up, exposing their identities. Genius Sam! Genius.” His left foot stopped before his next step, “And they’re here because obviously it must be the Warden. He was alive this whole time. Somehow he escaped, and they are trying to bring him back. Maybe he has his own plans, or maybe he just wanted a taste of freedom. Either way, the only thing he will taste is the soil when he is six feet under it!”

August was panting after his barrage of words. His deduction had been completed. Now that he understood the situation, he needed to understand what Sam was plotting. She was always up to something. She could be getting revenge on the adventurers, using the faction members to eliminate her refuse. She could be using the adventurers to also take care of the problems. No matter the case, Sam Colon never left loose ends.

“Does Jenny and Co. know the situation?” Were August more energetic and slangy, he would have also inquired if the group’s name was patented.

“That is a good question,” Sam said, not attempting to avoid the question; rather, she purposefully took the question, and threw it away.

“Alright, I'll trust you to handle it. Would you care for a game of chess?” August inquired, needing a well deserved break.

“No, you are too easy to beat. You never look more than three moves in the future. You are also far too trusting of my ‘suggestions’.”

“And you aren’t trusting enough,” August chuckled, “humor me with one game?”

“Fine. You tend to move your king forward, this time please make sure you watch its back. That is the last tip I will give you.”

“See you are a softie on the inside! Game on!”

“Game on,” and so the game started. Sam was already planning far ahead.