Elder Klinxint'ac'Dilnik stretched as he sat at his desk. Raising his head from the display he was looking at, he checked the rest of the room. It was a sizeable office, though not as large as it should be for his status. Yet, that hadn't caused him to change it in the last half century.

The gilded desk was eight feet wide and three feet deep. Very little was on the desktop, since most species used the city window to keep track of all their documents. It was more thorough and referenceable than the ancient barbaric ways of writing everything down.

Klinxint had been viewing three displays at the same time. The first showed the progress of new initiates to the tower. The next was a list of former initiates who had passed the final test and received a class. The youths were now apprentices of the tower, with some needing to be assigned to mentors and teachers. The final list was those who were nearing the level where they would be sent on missions for the tower. The missions could be within the Red Clan world, within the tower, or even off world, although those usually went to proven apprentices.

Upon reaching Tier 5, Klinxint had found his motivation waning. There wasn't a Red Clan member alive who didn't want to reach Tier 6 and become a Grand Elder, but Klinxint had needed a break. He hadn't been interested in pursuing strength or research. His class of "Compellent Elocutionist" was focused on affecting souls through different forms of communication. It was the type of class used by those working with other species. Klinxint knew how to get what he wanted from people while face to face, but the hiatus of his ambition upon evolving to this class had affected his results as much as anything else.

Sometimes he was sent on missions to gather information or to negotiate, however he had found it more soothing to work with the educational facilities. He took pleasure in helping the young to grow, guiding the ambitions of those who did not know the difficulties before them, while using his skills to solidify their loyalty and potential to the clan.

His assignment was a typically unwanted one by Elders, and there was usually an obligatory rotation to fill the position. Upon taking his turn, Klinxint surprisingly found satisfaction in this job. Not necessarily in the work, but he had an appreciation for the ambition and desires he saw in the youth. It kindled his own desires, reminding him of what it meant to grow and push forward on your path.

As he became a regular volunteer for the position, to the relief of his peers, Klinxith spent time building his own plans for the future. After another twenty years, his plans would be finalized, and he would pursue them outside of the tower. The current time would end as a nice break, all while he continued to support the tower and to grow the Red Clan influence.

Klinxint's eyes darted around as semi corporeal clones of himself also moved around the room. There were fifteen currently in the room, and as he practiced his skills in this position, he found the number and capability of them increasing. They were based on skills that could project and manifest his will, self-images he had developed within his soul sphere.

Each one moved with a purpose as they worked on other tasks, read information from displays, passed through solid objects as they moved across the rooms. Once a task was accomplished, they would merge back with him, transferring the knowledge and experience into him. Few in the tower could accomplish or learn as quickly as he could.

Yet, when a message came, not from the Tower Menu, but from his [System] notifications, all the clones stopped and looked at him. The words made his eyes go wide, causing enough disruption in his mind that the clones all walked back to him and merged before he reread the notification.

ALERT: Life Scroll has been destroyed.

Klinxint frowned. He looked around at the walls. They weren't really walls, but rows upon rows of shelves. To the side of his desk and behind, stretching beyond the distance, were millions of artifacts, scrolls, and parchments sealed with magic. They weren't documents or simple written forms that might be needed for reference.

These were artifacts of power that bound each and every member of the tower, from guards to students to agents to elders. Fully fledged members all had a Life Scroll formed. It didn't exert power over them or influence them. Instead, it simply monitored their lives so the administrators could verify if someone was alive or dead.

To have a Life Scroll destroyed meant someone had died.

It wasn't always a big deal. Agents on missions could find themselves in bad situations they couldn't survive. Students might overextend themselves during training, either being killed by a creature they fought, or by their own power as they experimented with skills that harmed their souls. However, it was rare for tower agents to be killed by other races, since the fear of reprisal was a strong deterrent.

Each death needed to be verified and understood.

With a wave of his hand, a new clone appeared. It nodded to Klinxint and then walked off into the shelves. Hours went by as the clone searched. During this time Klinxint waited motionlessly. When the clone returned, walking around the shelves instead of through to prevent the artifacts from interfering with his skill, there was a wrapped up scroll in his hand.

The scroll was placed on the desk and then the clone once more merged with the Red Clan Elder. He broke the seal on the scroll before unrolling it.

"Kristich'cl'Zulxat?" he read the name out loud. The name was not known to him. Not only that, but the level of the newly deceased was barely in the second tier. Hardly strong enough to be sent on a potentially dangerous mission. He brought up the Tower Menu and searched for the name.

Kristich'cl'Zulxat - Researcher Assignment: Assistant to Cruxannith'cz'Jurzax

"A little vague on that assignment," he muttered. Clicking on the assignment, he found that it was classified. The name of the assigning elder was there, one he didn't know personally or the duty of. In other societies that might seem odd, but it wasn't unusual for agents of the tower to have their location and purpose hidden so no one else could interfere.

Opening a window, Klinxint contacted the assigning Elder. It was only a moment before another face appeared. It responded cordially, even though Klinxint had never spoken directly to him.

"Greetings, Elder Klinxint'ac'Dilnik, head of student affairs," spoke Elder Kurnithax'aa'Jarnith, pressing his palm to his forehead in a show of respect. "Is there a way I may aid you and serve the tower?"

"Greetings, Elder Kurnithax'aa'Jarnith," responded Klinxint. "Though we are newly acquainted, I hope we may serve the tower together. An alert that a Life Scroll has ended led me to your name, and I desire to share the knowledge."

Kurnithax frowned a little, disappointed at the death of one of the Red Clan without even knowing the name. "May their death serve the tower," he said, holding both hands flat, pressed against each other perpendicularly, in the sign of mourning. "May I know the name of the deceased so I may act accordingly?"

"It was a researcher named Kristich'cl'Zulxat."

A gasp escaped from Kurnithax and his eyes grew serious.

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"Was that it? Was that the only Life Scroll?" he demanded.

In confusion, Klinxint rechecked his notifications. "That was the only Life Scroll alert."

"Are you sure?" When Kurnithax saw Klinxint nod, he made a gesture of relief. "That's good. That means Cruxannith is still alive. Thank you for the information. May we both continue to serve the tower."

As Kurnithax began to make a gesture of farewell, a frantic voice spoke outside of what Klinxint could see.

"Elder! Apologies for the intrusion, but the Scyrric have contacted us and demand a reply. They have said that the portal between their staging world and the Rift they provided to our speaker has disappeared. They insist it has been captured!"

Turning from the voice back to Klinxint, a serious expression was on Kurnithax's face. "That isn't good. If you insist that Cruxannith is still alive, but the Rift has fallen…Elder Klinxint, I believe we need a meeting of the available elders, and I would request your attendance."

Klinxint looked at the confusion and severity that his fellow elder was showing. Little could be done to unnerve someone of such high tier. To survive that long was to experience most of what was available in their part of the universe. Klinxint swallowed hard but then touched his palm to his forehead.

"For the tower!"

***

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!" bellowed Commander Grthk.

The amount of fury he radiated could be felt by everyone in the room. The commander was on his feet and looming over the captains while the lieutenant was prostrate at his feet. Those who weren't already out of their chairs flinched and dropped to their knees in submission.

Power wafted out of the large commander. With a roar he stomped, cracking the floor and shaking the whole building. He snorted out of his nose as his tail lashed down, also cracking the raised area where his throne like chair was placed.

The captains were no weaklings, but they still heaved for breath to get enough air into their lungs as the energy coming from the commander was suffocating. Each of them quivered, unsure how to quench his anger. None of them bothered to speak up, instead looking at the ground in the hope they wouldn't attract his ire.

"Sire, I cannot change the information I was provided and did not witness it firsthand," said the lieutenant, his voice steady, even as the stronger captains trembled and tried to hide. "We have lost two bases on our new world, and many of our forces in one region were killed attacking natives."

"Natives?! NATIVES?!" shouted Grthk before lowering his voice into a threatening whisper. "How could natives defeat our glorious soldiers?!"

"The high-level berserker we sent aided the Red Clan speaker in capturing the aberration. When he led our forces to put down the native rebellion, they managed to defend, even killing some of our specialized Tier 3s. The next part we don't have a detailed account of, but the aberration must have escaped from the Red Clan speaker since it was reported that he showed up at the battle and laid waste to our forces. It was reported that our berserker was out matched by him and fled."

"How could a Scyrric be outmatched? And even by an aberration? What do you mean he fled?" asked the commander with confusion, his power settling as he tried to understand. "Scyrric don't flee. What could have caused him to behave like that?"

Grthk leaned back onto his tail in contemplation. The girth and length of the tail was even more than his size, a desirable trait among the Scyrric. None of the captains looked up or stood, instead waiting for the commander to finish with his thoughts.

"Have we received a report from the berserker we sent?"

"No, sire. Our reports came from two other base leaders who had been recruited by him. They had been in combat at the time and didn't witness the fight between the berserker and aberration."

"I remember that the Red Clan speaker found evidence of a Tier 4 mind or soul manipulator helping the aberration. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sire," answered the lieutenant. "Although the evidence was only circumstantial. The [System] even told us no higher tier races were involved."

"Maybe this mysterious manipulator did something to the berserker. I can see no other reason for a trained Scyrric leader to flee like a weakling. Make sure an order is put out to bring him in for a direct report to us. Can we send more high-level troops to the base we purchased for the speaker?"

"Sire, the base has been closed to us. The portal is no more. We believe the aberration took it when he escaped from the Red Clan's control."

"What?!" yelled the commander again, before settling back into his thoughts. "Then what of Red Clan speaker?"

"Unknown, sire. She has not been seen or heard from since the battle, and the base is closed to us. Following the battle at the natives' base, our forces are having to re-organize since several base leaders were killed and 60% of our regional soldiers as well. They will need to consolidate strength again to be able to maintain their strongholds."

A rumbling growl built in Commander Grthk throat. He looked around at his kneeling captains, not one offering any insight. His most loyal lieutenant showed proper respect, while also performing his duties.

This situation seemed too unusual. The aberration was unprecedented, but Grthk had read the prior reports. It wasn't only the aberration who was surviving. Groups of natives, some were large groups, had found ways to survive all over the planet. They couldn't fight back like the aberration, instead using their knowledge of the world to hide or escape. It was unusual, though not nearly as concerning as the aberration was.

That native had captured Rifts before the invasion had even begun. Now his people had faced a small army of Scyrric and survived, while the aberration managed to escape from the Red Clan. This wasn't possible without help from outside the planet.

"Could the Red Clan be orchestrating this?" asked the commander, absently speaking his thoughts. "The unknown Tier 4 manipulator could be a concoction to throw us off the scent. They wanted to research the aberration instead of killing him. Maybe they are protecting him and his people as part of an experiment. Could they have created the aberration?"

"Sire, after receiving the reports we checked with the Red Clan. They said the speaker is still alive, though they have not heard from her."

"How will they compensate us for the loss of her and the costly base we purchased?"

"They apologized and said they would reimburse us for the expenses." After that the lieutenant seemed to shift positions before becoming still.

"I can see your disapproval," commented Grthk. "What else did they say?"

"To make it up to us, they have purchased several Rifts on the world and are sending through their own forces. They are now officially taking part in the conquering."

The captains in the room gasped as Grthk's eyes went wide. Then his eyes narrowed in anger. "They dare send troops directly?"

"Yes, sire. They claim it is to help correct the mistake of their subordinate. And to help protect Scyrric lives."

The commander stood once again and roared. The room shook from the vibrations.

Suddenly, a new presence was felt in the meeting room. Grthk's head whipped sideways to stare at the person in the entryway. He was older, much older, and only about half the height of Grthk. He wore simple looking armor of grays and black. Two knives were on his belt. The Scyrric was hunched over further than most Scyrric but looked like he was out for a casual walk, expression neutral even amid the commander's fury. The tail on the entrant was thin but long. Longer than even Grthk's.

Commander Grthk took one look at the new person, saw his tag of "Grand Spymaster [672]," and dropped to his own knees; fury locked up as he bowed his head.

"Quite the odd situation," said the small Scyrric. With casual reassurance, he walked into the room and headed right for Grthk's throne. Once he reached it, he sat and squirmed a bit since the chair was built for someone much taller than him. "Not quite what I'm used to, but it is comfortable enough. It will do."

Commander Grthk stayed kneeling with his head down but spoke. "What brings a Grand Elder to us?"

"You have done well to keep us apprised of the oddity of our new world. As such we aren't holding you personally responsible for our losses. However, it was decided that one of us should come and observe this unknown situation. As the head spymaster, I was selected. It seems I arrived just in time. Now, let's go over everything from the beginning."

Grthk saw the glint of interest in the Tier 6 Grand Elder and shivered. He just hoped they could salvage this event or make it interesting enough to prevent this from becoming a career ending mistake.

***

Sgolkr felt the cold under his scales. The air outside of the Rifts was a lower temperature than the Scyrric found comfortable. Usually, the heat created by his class kept him warm throughout his body. That was normal of a berserker. However, even with the rage that was built up in him, the skill that converted it into heat, into power, wouldn't trigger.

Protection skills were normal for leaders of the Scyrric to develop. They would not allow their troops or leadership to be interfered with by enemies, or even rival allies. Whatever had been used on him by the aberration had gotten through all his protection skills. Unlike the Red Clan skills that he knew of, this one wasn't influenced by distance or time. Contrary to any skill he had heard of, he felt the base of his power locked away. It was unfathomable.

Running for two days, Sgolkr had put a large amount of distance between him and the aberration's home. He traveled far but found no relief from the distance. Unlocking his strength and power was necessary for him to get back and make the situation right, to re-earn his position among the Scyrric.

The reason he had finally stopped was because he reached the Rift he had been looking for. The planetary merged Rift before him was part of a mountain. This was where he would begin to consolidate his power. His armory had been taken, but there was one other race that could craft weapons as powerful as what he had brought into this world.

Even in a weakened state, his strength would be enough to take this base and enslave its smiths. Sgolkr's sharp teeth reflected the light of the sun rising over the mountains as he stepped into the Unklarn's territory.

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