Travis was getting sick of babysitting the stupid puppet king. He was just so annoying. Every time they talked, he could feel the shrouded’s disdain practically rolling off the man. Like he was somehow better than the people who literally put him in power.

Not that he was surprised. Travis knew shrouded were all shit. But it was aggravating to interact with him on a regular basis. Especially when he showed up to whine like a five-year-old about his stupid problems. Like Travis didn’t have his own shit to deal with.

He was busy, overwhelmingly busy. When he’d taken the Founder’s offer of apprenticeship, he’d thought he’d be learning advanced ethertech skills, like those that created the ethermen. There was some of that as well, but most of his time was spent managing the Revolutions operations at the Tournament of Powers.

Overall, everything had been planned and set into action before the Tournament City had even broken ground on Baserock, but that didn’t mean the task was complete, oh no. No, Travis spent hours and hours every day receiving reports and writing up adjustments based on said reports. It was fucking boring, despite how vital it was.

The truth of the matter was, the Revolution was stretched thin. The Tournament being called was an unexpected reaction to their attack on the CA. As a whole, the Revolution was based entirely in the Central Authority’s borders, and they were used to the lackluster or nonexistent response from the Central Council to their actions. It was only once they made a move big enough to spread beyond those borders that they started having to contend with other nations and their variable foreign policies.

Basically, everyone else was way more proactive than the CA and their Council. It caught the revolution off guard. The Founder had at least considered the possibility of a Tournament being called, but only as an edge case and never so soon. They’d thought they’d need to apply more pressure on foreign lands, like through King Harmon, for example.

Instead, they found both the Ten Thousand Empires and the Fire Kingdom more than ready to jump on the Ca’s momentary weakness. It was a culture shock of sorts, seeing a government so ready to intervene. The Revolution had to scramble a bit to react.

Luckily, all of this still hit the Founder’s main goal, perhaps even better than the original long game they meant to play. All-out war was just over the horizon, and the Revolution hardly had to do anything to get it going. In fact, all they were doing now was simply fanning the flames that were already there.

Which made Travis frustrated with how much work there was to do for something so simple! This was supposed to be easy compared to the CA attacks! Those had been literal years in the making, coordinating dozens of locations to create a harmonized assault. This was one city, and they only had one target. Way simpler.

That’s what Travis had thought. Now, he wanted to both laugh at and curse his naivete. The scope of this operation was smaller, yes. But it was vastly complicated by one simple thing. Raw power. The Revolution was working under the nose of the most powerful shrouded this side of the Pillar, all gathered in one place and practically waiting to be attacked. They were as alert and ready as they would ever be, and Travis had to direct operations under those conditions.

Needless to say, he was overwhelmed. Merely a year ago, Travis had been a, frankly lazy and unmotivated, kid on a backwater continent. He was drowning in responsibilities he didn’t feel nearly ready for. Before he’d talked to the Founder, Travis had felt confident in himself and his superiority. He’d been arrogant and childish. Doing this job for a month felt like it had aged him a decade. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

And yet…Travis had never felt more fulfilled in his entire life. He, for the first time in his life, felt like the master of his own fate. An adult, a peer to those around him. It was a sensation he’d gotten an inkling of when this Tournament operation was being planned, but that feeling was now amplified beyond comparison. He was drowning in work, and he felt great.

When they’d started, he’d tried to pig-headedly manage on his own like an idiot, but that quickly fell apart. After several incoming shipments were caught by shrouded patrols and had to self-destruct, something that only happened because Travis simply forgot to order a screening element to map out the shrouded patrol routes, he got his head out of his ass and started taking this mission seriously.

In less than a day, Travis assembled a team of people around him to collate and parse all the data he was constantly being fed. Others worked to keep operations in line, making sure Travis didn’t have to deal with every minor issue that popped up. That alone cut his workload to a tenth of its initial size.

All of this left Travis with more time to deal with Harmon. A fact that Travis greatly regretted. If he could have traded off that particular duty, he would have. Unfortunately, he had made initial contact with the King once he landed on Baserock during his ‘do everything by yourself phase’, and Harmon was a naturally paranoid and jumpy man. Switching contacts was rocking the boat, not something to do during a high-stress delicate operation. The last thing they wanted was to give Harmon the idea that something had changed on their end.

Which left it up to Travis to be standing in the dark in a tiny room cloaked in a dark robe and protected by the strongest anti-shroud ethertech the Founder had ever made. Because Harmon had called on them. Again. Like they didn’t have enough going on. Travis seriously couldn’t wait to shove the metaphorical knife in the man’s back.

He had no moral compunction about killing a supposed co-conspirator. First of all, Harmon was a shrouded and deserved nothing from Travis but a bullet. Second, it wasn’t like the man wasn’t planning some equally awful betrayal for them. And third, the man was just an asshole. Seriously, he was a nationalistic elitist dickbag that the Starry Sea could do without.

“You’re here.”

Speak of the asshole, and he appears. Unfortunately. Travis held back the urge to roll his eyes and shoot back a sarcastic response.

“Of course. You called, and we do our best for our valuable customers.” He said instead, putting on his best ‘customer service’ voice.

An equally cloaked figure stepped into the room. Despite not being able to see a single feature, Travis could practically feel the frustration radiating off the man in waves. In a weird way, he could sympathize. Travis had only just gotten a taste of leadership, but if one of the Revolution’s vendors insisted on meeting him face to face, he’d be angry and annoyed. It was beneath him and mostly pointless. Yet that was exactly what they were doing to Harmon.

That sympathy died when it encountered the list of atrocities Travis knew the King had committed. Truly, the man was a peak example of shrouded in action.

“What can we do for you?” He asked, pushing aside his disdain for the man.

“I need the CA’s top youth team dead. I don’t care how. I’m hiring your organization for the deaths themselves, not to supply the tools.” The response was immediate, demanding.

And utterly stupid. Travis had literally had a conversation with this man just last week, pitching this very idea. The King had turned him down, interesting that he only wanted to pay for some tools and that his own man could do the job. Of course, the supposed ‘master assassin’ failed spectacularly.

Travis had, at the time, been more than willing to help. Ecstatic, even. He was more than aware that his piece of shit brother had somehow managed to make it onto the premier youth team for their home country. No doubt doing so by stumbling ass backward and nearly getting everyone around him killed, just like he always did.

It was the same as when they were kids. Erik had been born both cursed and blessed, though the curse only ever seemed to affect everyone around him. He was shrouded, blessed with powers no one else could compare to in their small continental city. At least, not in their neighborhood. Worse, his shroud seemed perfectly suited for their parents’ profession as doctors.

Obviously, he got all the attention.

Yet, at the same time, awful accidents happened around him constantly. More than once, Travis had found himself being patched up by their parents over some implausibly ridiculous circumstance surrounding Erik. And they just brushed it off! He almost died, and his folks just shrugged their shoulders and went back to fawning over Erik’s medical skills.

Of course he was skilled! He had a magical cheat since he was born! If Travis had a shroud, he would have been an amazing doctor too, but no. His parents never saw anything he did. It was all about Erik.

And here he was again! Somehow outperforming Travis once more without even knowing. Somehow one of the strongest competitors of his age, with a shroud that stitched. But that had changed too! Evolution, a one-in-a-hundred-million thing, had taken his brother and elevated him again. Now he was special even among shrouded, and Travis could hardly stand it.

No, Travis would like nothing more than to drop his brother dead, like exorcising a demon in a children’s story. Banish all those bad memories and bundled hatred he didn’t know what to do with. In fact, that was why he’d originally sold all that stealth equipment to Harmon. Back when he was still only out to prove himself and get ahead. Which was why it pained him to say…

“That…Is a difficult request to fulfill.” Travis admitted through gritted teeth.

“Are you telling me you won’t do it? Is this a money thing? Are you extorting me?” Harmon’s anger increased with every word, along with his volume.

“You misunderstand me. I’m not trying to upsell you on our services. Genuinely, what you want is not necessarily something we can provide at this time.” No matter how much he wanted to.

“...I’m going to need more than that as an explanation.” Harmon had calmed down, and his tone evened somewhat. Perhaps he could feel Travis’s own frustration.

“I believe we discussed dispatching those individuals previously, and you turned down my offer for assistance of a very similar nature to what you are currently requesting.” It never hurt to remind the man that he hadn’t listened to sound advice.

“Yes,” The King responded shamelessly. “So why can’t you do it now?”

“Because, Simply put, we are in different circumstances now.” Travis spread his arms in a helpless gesture. “You have contracted us in the single most brazen assault in the history of the Starry Sea. The situation is liquid, and the variables are many. As the time draws ever nearer, more and more of our resources are tied up in this endeavor.”

Travis was once more extremely thankful for the voice modulator he was using that made him sound like a man in his later years. He seriously doubted his words would have the same impact if he was saying them in his normal, younger, voice.

“While we, at that time, had the spare personnel and ethertech on hand to pull off such a task, that is no longer the case.” Travis let that hang for a moment. There was a brief moment when he could practically feel Harmon internalize and at least partially accept his reasoning. Now it was time to seal the deal.

“Of course, you are the customer,” Travis said, his tone reasonable and conciliatory. “We could divert resources from the main project to handle this new request. But that, of course, comes with the risk of putting the main project in jeopardy. However, if this is truly necessary…” Travis drifted off, letting Harmon end that thought on his own.

“No, no. That’s not what I’m asking for.” Harmon growled in frustration. “I’m disappointed that you can’t handle this much.”

“Dear customer, are you insinuating that assassinating the premiere youth team, one of the most heavily guarded and watched groups in any nation’s delegation, while also planning and executing a city-wide operation that involves the most powerful shrouded this side of the Pillar is somehow easy?” Travis somehow managed to sound significantly less sarcastic than that comment warranted. “If so, I’d like to know why you feel you need our services at all if this is such a trivial matter.”

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” Harmon took a half-step forward, and Travis almost gulped. This man could kill him, despite all the ethertech currently protecting him. He would almost certainly die in the process, but that was a cold comfort. “...But I understand your point.”

Travis relaxed.

“If it’s any consolation, those particular people are on the termination list, and we are watching them closely. If it was feasible to end them early without compromising our main operation, I would take that contract.”

“That is good to know but hardly helpful.” Harmon sighed. “It seems I’ve wasted both of our time. This was the only matter I had to discuss.” And so he left without another word.

He hadn’t been lying to the King. Although, what he said wasn’t the whole truth. Really, killing his brother's team would have been hard for the Revolution even back when he’d offered it. Truthfully, Travis had been willing to sacrifice a lot more than he should have to see his brother dead. Now, it was borderline impossible without straight-up abandoning the plan.

Travis could look back on himself only a week ago and only feel ashamed. He’d acted like a child for far too long while being almost smug about it. Sometimes he wanted to curl up in a ball just thinking about it. In the meantime, he’d experienced more responsibilities than he could have possibly imagined, had people’s lives in his hands in a way they never were before.

At the same time, he’d also experienced the respect that followed good leadership and the suffering caused by bad leadership. And he couldn’t find it in himself to be so selfish anymore if it cost his subordinates their lives. Not for something selfish. Not even if it meant killing his brother.

Sending men to their death for the plan was one thing. They had literally signed up for that; they knew what they were doing. But as much as he hated his brother, Erik and his team weren’t a threat to their plan. They were just too weak. In the face of what was coming, the amount of raw power about to be thrown around, they were a breeze in a hurricane, just lost in the noise.

So Travis chose the responsible option. He chose to be better, to live up to his newfound responsibilities.

Even if he felt a deep sense of foreboding as he did.