Eric had made mistakes in the past. First, when he was five, he stole a candy bar. That was where it all went downhill; that thrill was too intoxicating. Forty years later, Eric had been doing time for 'borrowing' a car when the universe exploded, imploded, whatever the terminology was.

Then Eric had found himself back in that same original candy shop, alone, wondering if this was the afterlife.

He'd spent some time reflecting until, much to his surprise, he awoke on a strange planet.

Something like a hundred years had passed since then.

And… Eric had continued to make mistakes.

Such as the stealing of a teeny, little white rock.

"Relax, relax, we're all friends here, right?" Eric held his hands up, staring down a very cross-looking monk.

Which was impressive, because monks weren't usually supposed to look cross.

"You stole our most prized item, a memento and cornerstone of our sect." The Monk stared down at Eric, fist poised like some Bruce Lee strike was incoming at any moment.

"I, uh, have no idea what you're talking about," Eric lied, attempting to look as innocent as possible.

"The Primordial Rogue has no idea what I'm talking about." The Monk raised a single eyebrow at him, as if challenging him to continue the lie.

"Uhh, yeah, sounds about right," Eric said, trying to smile it off.

"Mhmm. Then I believe I would do this world a service and rid it of scoundrels like you."

Like a blur, the fist began to move, and every one of Eric's instincts screamed death.

"Wait!" Eric shouted, wincing as the fist stopped an inch from his face. "Alright, I admit, I may know a thing or two about what you're talking about."

Usually, Eric felt quite confident in his ability to squirm his way out of any situation, as a high-tier-seven specialized in stealth and scoundrel arts.

But this was a little different.

Because the man who was staring at him rather angrily was a tier eight. Barely tier eight, but nonetheless tier eight.

That alone wasn't what Eric feared; he wasn't reverent of those more powerful than himself, be it monsters or humans, and in fact, he had already attempted to get the hell out of dodge.

The problem was that the damned Monk was able to lock down space; his very presence exuded frozen stillness, meaning all movement-based skills were rendered null and void.

"You are lucky I have principles. Speak."

"Alright, so, hear me out," Eric gave the hand holding the front of his tunic a pat. "There I was, exploring the world, because that's what I do, I explore."

And snatch stuff, but let's not mention that part.

"When bam, I find this insanely tall mountain. And I can sense goodies up there."

His eye glowed for a moment before fading.

"It's a skill of mine called Thie-, er, I mean The Eye for Potential."

It wasn't a complete lie; the skill had started as Eye for Potential until Eric evolved it into Thief's Eye.

"So there I go, exploring the mountain, when, won't you know it, I find myself in this eastern-looking Shaolin temple village place."

"Uh huh."

"Anyway, seeing it, I think to myself, 'Eric, look at this fancy scenery that Aelia put together. She's so good at world-building.' After that, I get a twitch in my eye. And wouldn't you know it, one thing leads to another, and I find myself in front of this fancy shmancy rock. But you know, at that point, the cold really started to get to me, and so I'm forced to leave the mountain. It wasn't until I reached the bottom that I realized one of my skills had been activated by accident, and that fancy stone had just so happened to come along for the ride. Thinking nothing of it, I went on my way. I had no idea people lived in that mountain."

Eric smiled at the Monk as wide as he could manage.

"So, you mean to tell me, you raided my sect's most prized item…. By complete accident."

"Hmmm… Yeah, sounds about right."

The Monk, the First Monk, looked at him as if he were the dumbest man alive.

Which, as the sweat began to bead at the back of Eric's neck, might have been true.

"I must say," The Monk sighed. "You must be the dumbest thief I've ever heard of."

"But you have heard of me," Eric said without thinking, before wincing.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

God damn my big fat mouth. I'm going to die.

"Right. I spent years, no, decades, pursuing you. For this." The First Monk sighed once more. "Decades away from my sect. For an idiot. The only benefit of hounding you for so long and dealing with all the monsters in the way was that it was good for my own growth."

"So, uhh, you're going to let me go because I did you a favor?" Eric said, trying his luck.

"Yeah… no," The First Monk said. "When we arrived on this planet, I wasn't very old, you know, only a teenager."

Oh, backstory time, fun, fun, that means less 'punch me in the face until I'm dead' time.

"That was tough enough, but then shortly after, I ended up in charge of kids. So, I do my best and I emulate what it means to be an adult, but you can't just emulate regular adults, not in a world of magic and monsters. So, instead, I draw from what I've seen in movies. I was a huge martial arts movie fan as a kid."

What gave that away? Also, where exactly is he going with this?

"One thing leads to another, and I've somehow become this revered master, the patriarch of the sect. But I did my best to live up to what I thought that meant. I will admit, it was stifling at times. But then, over the years of pursuing you, you have allowed me to unwind a bit, get back in touch with my roots."

"So, uh, you're going to let me go?"

"But all good things must come to an end. I've been away for too long. And while it was originally merely an image, a role I played, I will not act as if I didn't find it satisfying that the story I told myself became truth. But, before I return, I must, of course, take back what is rightfully ours."

Ohh…. Oh no.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Eric raised his hands even higher, well aware of where the First Monk was going with it. "We can make a deal!"

"A deal?" The First Monk asked, incredulous.

"Yeah, a deal, one Earthling to another. How about this, I do you a favor. I give you back the stone… And, you don't kill me. Pretty good deal, right? Heh, right?" Eric gave the First Monk's arm a pat once more, putting on his best used car salesman impression.

"You... Do me a favor… by returning our stone, that you stole."

"Uh-huh, yeah, sounds about right."

"The stone that you stole." The First Monk repeated.

"Err… yeah?"

Lifted by the collar, Eric's eyes widened in fear as the tier eight monk prepared to end him, his fist glowing with a weird energy that he couldn't place.

"Wait!" Eric yelled out one more time.

"What now?" The Monk rolled his eyes, clearly growing annoyed with Eric.

"New deal. Am I allowed to send you a screen?"

The First Monk inclined his head, granting permission for the interface exchange.

Opening a specific screen, Eric flicked it to the First Monk.

"What's the point of this?" The First Monk asked after a moment of contemplation.

"Factions, surely you saw the notifications in the past," Eric said, eyes darting to look at the faction screen alerting them to the presence of two factions currently in existence. "My new deal is this. I give you the stone back, and then we join forces, co-equal partners."

The First Monk fixed him with an unblinking stare, unimpressed.

"Alright, I'll work for you," Eric said with a huff. He didn't like the thought, but it was better than dying. "The way I see it is, you're strong, sure, tier eight, probably going to be another ten or so years before I cross that boundary, so you're making good progress. But you've seen it, just like I have. Whenever there is an E.O.N.-related update or news, it's always one of two names attached. The Spear, or the Architect. And given that both already formed factions, I ask you this: do you think you can take on factions with two or maybe even more founders in the future?"

Eric was taking a gamble by pushing buttons that might be better left untouched. Still, the First Monk's silence only gave him more confidence.

"Look, I'll admit, I stole your stone."

"You don't say."

"But while I was in your area, I got a sense of your people. Strong, yeah, but aside from you, I'm pretty sure I could have diced any of them up. I literally have a skill that nerfs my direct confrontation abilities in return for increased stealth. So, you find yourself facing down The Spear, could you win? Maybe, I don't know, but what happens when it's The Spear and The Woodsman? Hmm?"

"And you think you alone would change the power balance? Did you not just finish saying you have a skill that reduces your abilities in a direct fight?"

"Oh, sure," Eric waved it off. "But I'm not alone. Well, right now I am, but I mean, overall. Just like you, I got my own little shits I had to take care of and raise. Bunch of little rats that would steal the head from your body if it wasn't attached." As much as the phrasing sounded like an insult, there was apparent pride in his voice.

"Your point?"

"I'm getting there, I'm getting there. So, every few years, we reconvene with the help of a skill and item I won't bother getting into the details about. I call 'em the 'Rogue's Gallery,' you know, like the term-"

"I'm aware of what a rogue's gallery is." The First Monk cut him off.

"Right, sorry." Eric winced, not trying to irritate the man. "So, we come to work for you and your group. Officially, we're a faction, but in reality, you're the real head honcho. I can be your shadow right hand."

"And why would I need that?" The First Monk asked.

"Well, I'm sure y'all are very honorable and that monk-y stuff, but let me ask you this: Aren't ninjas a thing to? Kind of like, shadow monks in a way."

"You know," The First Monk exhaled slowly, lowering Eric. "I know you're playing me. But you're right. Yeah, ninjas are cool. So, your idea is your Rogue's Gallery joins my sect, where we can make use of you should we need or want to."

"Wait, not just that," Eric tutted, feeling like his chances of survival had massively increased. "We can teach some of your people. A fusion of what we both bring, your faction will have your main sect, as well as a more secret ninja group or whatever you end up calling them. Finally, you'd have the true Rogue's Gallery even behind your ninjas or whatever, you'd have us. Because we'd be tied together as a 'faction' and not a single entity, in theory, anything we do would reflect upon ourselves, and not you. Gotta get imaginative and plan for what the future might hold after all, eh?"

The First Monk had gone silent once more, deep in consideration.

The kids aren't going to like being told they have a boss now, but that's just the way it is. Half of 'em will probably think the idea of being a shadow organization working for a bunch 'a Shaolin cosplayers would be rad as hell.

Releasing Eric's collar entirely, the First Monk first held his hand out.

"The flagstone, first."

"Right," Eric sighed. Reaching into empty space, an inky black portal appeared as Eric withdrew the mythic rarity stone. Handing it over, he felt a part of him tug in reluctance.

And just what a steal that was. Shame I've got to give it back.

"Oh, don't mind that, by the way," Eric added, pointing at the closing black portal. "Shadow Inventory, a skill I developed for my, ehem, acquisitions."

Opening a regular linen bag, the First Monk placed the icy stone within. Item secured, he extended his hand once more, except this time without the intention of strangling him or demanding back what was rightfully his.

Oh, Eric, you've made a lot of mistakes. But Mr. Primordial Rogue, you've always managed to slip out anyway.

Grinning, Eric clasped the extended hand of his fellow founder.

"To a long and… fruitful, relationship."

The Third Faction has formed.

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