As MIke entered behind the stone giant, he noted that the other soldiers remained outside, without being commanded to do so. Their seeming disregard for him as a threat irked him, although he appreciated being underestimated if he was going to be enslaved here like the other beings he had seen.

He was unsure what he expected the interior of the building to look like, but it certainly wasn’t what greeted him as he entered the building and came abreast of the giant in the middle of a sizable room. Rather than fitting in with the roughshod appearance of the surrounding canyons, plush carpeting and deep burgundy drapes adorned the room, creating a dark yet cozy atmosphere that was accentuated by the wooden paneling on the walls, which were adorned with shelves containing a myriad of items whose purpose escaped him. Some of the items seemed to beg him to take possession of them, while others filled him with a sense of dread as soon as his eyes landed on them. The sheer dissonance of the feelings that the items evoked made his head begin to pound–though his entire existence had changed with the onset of the System, it paled in comparison to the amount of change that the items in the room represented. He wasn’t sure how that could be possible, but he felt it to his core.

“Hoosefelt, what do you have for me today?” the same gravely voice that had called them inside asked, startling Mike out of his reverie and drawing his eyes away from the spectacle of the walls and to the man seated behind a large desk.

“Sir, all evidence indicates that an Anomaly was deposited within the camp from the recent wormhole.” The lead guard replied, even as Mike mused that Hoosefelt was a fitting name for the hulking stone behemoth.

“An Anomaly? Really?! Will those despicable Assimilators not leave me in peace for at least the duration of my internment? Has their machinations regarding my family not been enough?!” The seated man’s rant increased in volume and anger with each word, the tantrim of a petulant child, before cutting off completely.

“I apologies, Hoosefelt. You know how this topic gets the better of me. And yes, before you ask, I have been reading through the tome on anger management that my father was “gracious enough” to provide me with before sending me into exile.” The man continued, brushing aside the words Hossefelt attempted to speak. “But you know how much more enjoyable it is for me to work on building my artifact collection than it is to work on self mastery. Even if the collectables are a bit harder to come across in the Outskirts.” He added as an afterthought.

“Well, let’s get a look at it then.” The man leaned forward and motioned with a large hand towards Mike. “Step closer so I can get a better look at you. You’ll have to forgive my rudeness for soul-searching you so blatantly, but under the circumstances, I hope you will understand.”

As Mike stepped forward, the familiar grain pattern of the desk caught his eye, and he couldn’t help himself from commenting on it.

“Wow, that’s an impressive piece of walnut!” he exclaimed. “It’s a shame you had to replace that far edge with maple though. Despite the stain you have used, it is still fairly obvious to the trained eye.”

“You’re familiar with Walnacious trees?” the seated being asked, who was now close enough to Mike’s position that he could easily identify the seated man as the same species as Hoosefelt.

“Oh of course! They make some of the sturdiest furniture there is. We had a nice walnut hutch in the dining room when I was growing up, and that is really where my love for the wood came from. My Dad had a saying about walnut…”

“So they are native to your home planet then? They are common?” Mike’s sentence was cut off by the eager question.

“Well it is less common than maple or birch, but it certainly isn’t the most expensive wood we have.”

“Fascinating. Since you are an Anomaly, I assume you are new to the multiverse and don’t know this, but this wood is a truly sought after resource among the more high end collectors throughout the known multiverse. In addition to having a unique history for some of the nomadic species, it readily absorbs cosmic energy and can enhance cultivation speeds many times over.”

“Well I don’t know about cultivation or cosmic energy, but it makes sense that it is prized. Walnut is such a durable wood and it really does make the most remarkable furniture. The coloring on it is without equal. I myself am particularly fond of oak, however, as it is more sturdy when building large tables.”

“I’ve never heard of oak before. Tell me, what multitaric properties does it have?”

A loud cough from Hoosefelt interrupted Mike’s response before the giant said, “I think we are getting a little off topic here. Perhaps we should discuss next steps for the Anomaly. We can’t be seen to help him. It would weaken the guard factions and could further impact the political reasons for your being sent here, Sir.”

With a deep sigh and a curse under his breath that was inaudible save for the words, “father” and “babysitter”, the camp leader steered the conversation back on track. “Fine, let’s get on with the soul-search then. You are going to feel a slight tingle.”

No sooner had he finished speaking then Mike felt a crawling sensation across the skin of his neck and arms.

“Weak. You have only filled your first 10 nodes, and no core has been formed yet. Not that you will be able to form a conventional core, what with your home planet being food for the Assimilators.”

His words had the effect of causing Mike’s arm hair to stand on end, and he began asking questions rapidly, “My planet is going to be eaten? What about the people on it? What is a core? Will I need one to defeat the Assimilators?”

“No, no, I can’t answer any of that.” he said, waving a massive stone fist. “Unfortunately, even though we share similar interests and both want to bring down the Assimilators, I can’t really help you without tying myself to your plight with karma, especially after that whole debacle back home.”

A pregnant pause seemed to weigh on Mike, before the camp leader’s craggley brow lifted as an idea seemed to strike him.

“Hoosefelt, it would be rude of us not to extend some form of welcome to a weak and stranded cultivator, would it not? Surely no one could fault us for helping someone weaker than ourselves in exchange for their services.”

“Sir, I don’t think he has any services we are in need of.”

“Nonsense, nonsense. He can mine rocks, and in exchange, we can give him a place to stay and some food to eat. Maybe he can even help me touch up this walnut table if I can find a new piece to go on the end.”

Hoosefelt just shrugged in response.

“Well, it’s settled then, even agreed upon by the chief guard and my father’s advisor to boot.” The man said, before turning his gaze back upon Mike. “The name’s Blarney, exiled prince of the Craggs. But seeing as I can’t be seen extending you any kind of courtesy, you will have to address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘Master’. Although, I must admit that I do like the term ‘Master’ better.

“Here are the terms of the agreement: You can stay here at the camp. You will work normal shifts and share normal food and births with the slaves. You will not be forced to wear a collar nor are you forced to stay here, but know that if you leave, I can’t welcome you back again. It would be a show of weakness. Also know that if you leave, you would be dead within a week. You are by far the weakest thing that has been seen on the Outskirts to my knowledge. It is for that reason that I can even allow you to not wear a collar, as suppressing your abilities would make you totally useless as a slave. I am sorry that that is all I can, but anything more will badly affect my clan. I can’t do that again, even if my father deserves it.” the last bit was said almost wistfully. “So, what do you say?”

…………………………………………………………………………………………

As Mike followed Hoosefelt out of Blarney’s office, his eyes took in the surroundings, noticing things he had overlooked on his way into the mining camp. In retrospect, he should have been able to pick out the signs of slavery, having had the misfortune to have witnessed it before. Knowing that he would essentially be a slave left a bitter taste in his mouth, even though he recognized that he could leave at any time.

His thoughts continued to churn as he followed an assigned guard back to the slaves’ lodgings. His misgivings over his own fate faded as his thoughts turned to those he had left back home. He hadn’t really given much thought to seeing his nieces and nephews since the System integration, being wholly focused on survival. But he couldn’t help wondering if little Jimmy had survived. And on top of his family, he had the hobgoblins to worry about as well.

I’ll just have to become strong enough to return and save everyone on my own. It sounds like the hobgoblins and everyone else back home will be destroyed if I don’t stop it. He thought to himself, channeling his need to protect others, his experiences as a Navy Seal, and his desire to be from the oppression of those more powerful than himself into a nearly drive to improve that seemed to physically lodge itself within him. I’ll become stronger and learn everything I can about the multiverse and its key players so that no one bothers us ever again.

His thoughts solidified, the remaining distance to the camp he focused on pushing himself to his limit. If he could keep training up Strength, it would allow him to decrease the number of points he was siphoning from Dexterity. For this reason, he decreased the points he was channeling until walking felt nearly impossible, but still he pushed on. The training lasted only another 5 minutes, but he was nearly dry heaving by the time the guard deposited him in the camp, where he avoided all of the probing gazes by crawling under a ledge so his back was protected and laid down to rest, having not gained any additional points in Strength despite his exertions.

Though tired, he kept himself awake and alert, uncertain if it was safe to sleep here or if there was danger from the other slaves.

One discovery from the day stood out to him more than any other. My enemy is the Assimilators. They have a name now. They can’t hide from me anymore behind the System messages.