“So,” Malachi began, longing for Etras more than a decent nap. “One of the three Cinraal lords, a self proclaimed god of Chaos, came from our homeland to Etras, with as many followers as he could, to conquer it. Now that he has one world under his grip, he wants another. My duty is to undermine this invasion wherever I can. Thus, I came to this world through the Gate you saw, and happened to be followed by a few dozen of my kind.”

Isabella raised a hand.

“Yes, I would rather live as a hive master than answer your questions,” Malachi preemptively answered.

“I… was going to ask if the other two Cinraal lords are doing anything about it, but now I want to know what a hive master is,” Isabella said, tilting her head slightly.

Malachi rubbed his head, and let out a low rumble Ansem assumed was a swear in his native language. “Cinraal reproduce asexually, we use structures called hives, and that was the last question for the day. Lukhan, the deal is done.” Malachi stepped backwards and fell into his own shadow, disappearing.

Lukhan let out a sigh of his own. “It seems that entertaining locals is above his pay grade. I will go speak with our Lady. Isabella, be on guard while I am away." Lukhan strode to the door, and with a flash of light and a beat of his wings, he was gone.

“Who’s the painter you brought back, though?” Amos asked, pointing at the new arrival. Lillian poked her head from behind her easel.

“The Shadows think they can get magic powers by eating people who do,” Ace said, waving a hand around. “Apparently, they can smell them, so she’s with us for protection.”

“An accurate, if crude, summary,” Ansem commented, standing up. “If the meeting has concluded, I shall get back to my lab. I have many examinations to do."

Isabella watched the scientist retreat to his haven a floor below. Her gaze drifted back to Lillian, who set her brush down and sat next to Isabella with a light sigh.

"Quite a bunch you have here," she said.

Isabella couldn't help but let a small giggle escape. Their group certainly was eccentric. "Quite, indeed," she echoed. "Two refugees from Etras, an assassin,-"

"Ah ah ah!" Ace interrupted. "Assassin is such a dirty word. Call me a 'contract killer', please."

"That's so much better." Isabella rolled her eyes and turned back to her couchmate. "And two hands of this world's Guardian."

"Who is this Lady of yours, Isabella?" It was Cassandra's turn to speak up. "If you and Lukhan are on her orders, we have her to thank, as well."

Isabella smiled, fondly remembering her superior. "Lady Paran has watched over this world for far longer than any of us have been here. Only Lukhan has known her longer."

Amos leaned into the conversation, a light breeze behind him. "Paran, the Lady. Paranova, the planet. This is a goddess?:

"No, nothing like that," Isabella grinned, shaking her head. "She has no followers, save for Lukhan, myself, and a handful of others. She didn't create the world, only named it after the end of a chaotic era."

"We're very thankful for her protection," Cassandra said, matching Isabella's smile.

"Speaking of," Amos said, turning towards Lillian, who seemed to shrink behind Isabella in response. "What's her deal? The Cin wanted her because of her power?"

Lillian took a deep breath, straightening up. "Yeah, I have a power." She held out her hand, and caressed the floor. A green sprout pushed its way through the wood, budding and blooming into a white and pink flower. "It… doesn't do well indoors, not without ruining floors."

Ace yawned loudly, beginning to head for the stairs. "I'm sure the Shadows would love to make plants at will. As for me, I'm going to get some sleep. You say the bunks are upstairs?"

Isabella turned to reply, but Ace was already gone.

"What about you two?" Lillian asked the others. "Fugitives from Etras?"

Cassandra and Amos both put on the same knowing grin. "We tried to fight off Chaos when he invaded our world," Cassandra began. "We put up a good enough fight to slow him down, but his cronies would have finished us off if we didn't run here for help," Amos finished.

Lillian's eyes widened. "Wow, I guess you're pretty strong, then."

Amos’s grin turned into a prideful smirk. “We’ll put the fear in his ugly mug when he comes back for us, alright.”

“That may not be any time soon, however.” Lukhan’s voice, and sudden appearance startled everyone present, save Isabella. “Whatever resistance he encountered during his time on Etras pales in comparison to whatever we can prepare. He will want to wear us down to ensure a victory, so we should bolster our numbers while we can.”

"So what, we go on a recruiting drive?" Amos asked.

"We make ourselves aware of any targets of the Cinraal, and convince them of the strength in numbers," Lukhan answered. "Lillian grasped that idea quickly, and I have reason to believe that others will, too."

"Because an offer of protection is too attractive to turn down," Cassandra stated. Lukhan repressed admiration for his ally who had figured out his tactic.

"Precisely. It is human nature to want to help. If we offer it in the form of protection, then others will desire to offer their talents and skills. Lillian, you wish to be a part of our operation?"

The painter seemed to shrink at being the center of attention, but nodded firmly.

"Then welcome aboard. Isabella, if you would join me, I must source some equipment. Everyone else, I suggest rest. Tomorrow we begin in earnest."

On the other side of the city, a certain Cinraal's influence swept the many residential buildings, searching for an ear. There were many, such that Chaos and his generals would pay a hefty price to learn the location of. It echoed the same signal it was told to, waiting to hear the right answer. Few heard it, fewer still responded, but none answered correctly. Ether was strong on this world, it noticed. It thrived in certain individuals in a way not even the Cinraals' predecessors had been gifted. It was purer, and more importantly, more stable.

Of the gifted, there were extreme margins of ability. Some could only produce miniscule amounts of power. Others could level the buildings they rested in. The majority of those powers lay dormant, for reasons unknown. Regardless, the only thing that mattered was their reply. The influence reached further, calling out to whoever wished for what it had to offer.

One did.

It came from a child, whose power lay on the lower end. It mattered not. What mattered was what it was willing to pay.

Anything.

A price comes in more than monetary or sentimental value. A price could be physical, or even mental.

It was worth it.

A price could even be one's life. One's future. A price could be one's very being.

All the better.

The influence almost hesitated. This was exactly what it was supposed to find. An obsession. Yet it was appalled at its willingness. Then again, most Cinraal shared that feeling. Its price would be west. In the desert.

It will be paid.

The price is your life. Not in death, but a life dedicated to the cause. Your power will be mine, and mine yours. My mission will be yours, as will my protection.

"Have you paid this price, too?"