A good night's rest had done wonders for Dericka's weary body, but nothing for her wounded soul.

This morning had been the first time, for as far back as she could remember, that she'd truly struggled to get out of bed. An hour, perhaps even more, spent staring at the sterile walls of her room in the barracks as she fought an internal battle, the stakes of which were merely to pull the sheets off herself and sit up straight.

Everyone else had already gotten up and left by the time she slunk out of her room to wash up and get dressed. You did it on purpose, a nasty part of herself thought, to avoid seeing the girls. She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed, trying to suppress the deep pit of sadness and guilt in her chest. While having a high Intelligence Stat helped in many ways, by making all of her thinking faster and more effective, it also strengthened her intrusive thoughts.

With a deep breath, she gathered her resolve, then finally pushed herself to step out and into the daylight. Best to keep busy, she told herself as she forced her shoulders to straighten and strode between the narrow alleyways between the black, container-like barracks until she reached what served as the main street.

She turned to the right, heading towards the gate that formed the only entrance and exit into the settlement. She idly wondered if they ever closed it. If they did, it would likely be to keep people out. Monsters didn't make it all the way here.

Getting a better understanding of the social and political dynamics in the settlement was her main goal for today. She would head out into the campgrounds and talk to people, find the leaders and take their measure. A few things had been nagging at her and they needed to be investigated.

This was not only important, but it was likely that nobody else in the Party had even noticed or thought of these things. Nobody else would be taking the initiative to investigate. None of them had the social finesse needed to pull it off, either. It had to be her. They still needed her, though she wasn't sure if they realized it. Did they think that the Party's usefulness had run its course? Or worse, that they were better off without her. A pang of fear gripped her, making her slow down again.

Jim and Dmitriy were already on track to join the soldiers. Kobe had found work in the Supply Department. Tasha would likely find a way to join the R&D team. It hadn't sunk in yet, her thoughts occupied by the deadly consequences of her failures. One by one, they were going to abandon her, like birds leaving the nest. Why wouldn't they? They had every reason to. She'd only brought them death.

The growing fear seemed to claw at her heart and Dericka ducked into one of the alleyways, leaning forward to press her forehead into the cool black metal wall as she tried to take deep, calming breaths. But her throat closed and the second exhale came out as a high-pitched, sorrowful moan. Tears began to stream down her face and she clasped her hands to her mouth as she shook with quiet sobs.

Why didn't she just order them to retreat to the top of that damn hill? Or even after that, to attack the dogs and move back into the green zone. She'd gotten them killed, and now the rest were going to leave her. She would be all alone.

You're being pathetic. Get it together. What if someone sees you like this?

Anger pierced through the sadness and despair and she began to rock back and forth, smacking her forehead into the barrack wall.

She took hold of her breathing, forcing her breaths to slow down, letting out a soft moan that lowered in pitch until it sounded almost like a growl. Slowly, she dropped her hands to her sides, fingers clenched tightly into white-knuckled fists as she straightened her back. Her body shook as she fought against the sobs, but the shaking slowly abated with each forced breath until finally she stood rigidly still, staring at the wall. Her right hand lifted up to wipe her tears on her sleeve, then she turned on her heel and walked back out into the street.

She nearly lost control again as she realized that she'd only made it halfway to the gate before her breakdown, but she grit her teeth and marched stiffly forward.

When one of the guards gave her a concerned look, she forced a smile onto her face, then, when she was past the gate, took a moment to rub her eyes and relax her features. It was easier when there were people around, forcing her to put on an appearance, to be strong for their sake.

Focus on your goal. This is important. They need you, even if they don't know it.

Not far beyond the gate began the chaotic mess of campsites and people milling about. Painting a kind smile on her face with great effort, Dericka asked a few experienced looking people for directions, until she finally found who she was looking for.

Gabriel was a tall man, walking with long, steady strides through the camps, hands clasped behind his back as he paused here and there to greet people. Blue eyes turned to her as she approached him.

"Greetings, child. You have the look of someone who with questions."

He smiled at her, revealing a neat row of teeth that seemed a touch too white, like they'd been bleached not too long ago. The priest had somehow managed to find not only a black shirt complete with white clerical collar, but also a comb, judging from his neatly slicked back dirty blonde hair. It had to have taken quite some effort, to appear so well put-together in these circumstances.

"Hello Father. That's very observant of you," she said with a smile that she hoped did not look forced. "My name is Dericka. My Party arrived only yesterday and I'm trying to get the lay of the land. My first impression was that there might be people in need, but, frankly speaking, I'm not sure where to start."

"Ah, with that, at least, I can be of assistance." His expression didn't change from that gracious and patient smile, as if he had all the time in the world for her. His eyes flicked quickly over her body, briefly pausing on her armor. "You've the look of a warrior. If you don't mind me asking, was it perhaps your Party that entered from the yellow zone?"

Surprise and a bit of caution passed over Dericka's face as she nodded.

"It seems you made a stir, when the Major's right hand came out to greet you and led you into the settlement proper," Gabriel explained. "But I'm glad to see you haven't fallen for their promises of resources. It shows great character that you have come here, looking for those in need, instead of simply embracing the military."

"Don't they help?" Dericka frowned. "I assumed they would be handing out food and other necessities, since they control the MAFT?"

"They do, to an extent," Gabriel replied in the same, slow cadence he'd kept throughout the conversation, calmly enunciating each word. "Though the rations are only counted against the number of individuals that pay contributions, as they call them, while many have nothing more to give." For the first time, his smile slipped as he spoke, looking out over the camps, but then he seemed to catch himself, looking back at Dericka with that same, steady smile. "I don't mean to imply that they are bad actors, only that they have a singular focus. The vast majority of resources are invested into the military."

Gabriel paused as Dericka nodded along, thinking through the implications of that.

"But I digress. You asked about those in need. The mission of the Church, of course, has ever been to help those who are less fortunate. It might be best if I showed you, if you would be so kind as to walk with me?" He held out a hand to gesture in the direction of a larger camp before once again clasping it behind his back and Dericka nodded, following along.

He shared a bit more about the military as they walked. They were apparently keeping an iron grip on the resources via control of the MAFT. The only motivation Dericka could see behind those restrictions, would be to maintain power and control. It was not surprising by itself; the state had always wanted to maintain a monopoly on violence. But that had been in the old world, where people were safe and could choose from all kinds of occupations. Here, the only ways to gain Value were to craft or to kill things, at least as far as she knew.

"Are there any occupations available to people? I imagine not everyone would like to go out and hunt."

"Besides crafting, which would require materials, there are only the builders. I'm glad to say our repeated calls for additional housing and an expansion of the walls have finally led to some action, so the number of builders has been growing."

Gabriel led her through some camps, commenting on how most of the groups had formed simply from people starting in the same zone, bonding during their journey here. But others had known each other from before, some groups even coming from the same suburb. Most of the people that ended up here had been teleported from somewhere in the greater area around New York.

Then they arrived at the 'center of prayer', as he called it. His congregation had secured what Dericka thought should be prime real estate, a good stretch of space right next to the town walls. It was one of the few camps with larger tents and even some structures made of wood and other materials.

The roar of an engine and sounds of people shouting drew their attention to an area a hundred yards or so further down the wall in the direction of the gate. Gabriel explained that a lot of the builders lived there. Just like in the old world, they had been quick to form some kind of union, negotiating that they should be the first ones to get to live in the housing they were putting up. He confirmed what she'd already heard before, that they were led by a man called Joseph. Resolved to speak to him next, it was time to get to what she really wanted to know.

First she needed to get a sense of the size of the different groups. Gabriel, a savvy and attentive man, believed there were at least four thousand people here in total. There were at least four hundred soldiers and two hundred builders, so the vast majority consisted of small, unaffiliated groups.

"Many more are coming in each day, looking for guidance. I give a sermon every morning and it fills me with hope to see more people joining each day. My flock has already passed four hundred souls and continues to grow."

Dericka thought she saw something different in his expression then, something like pride or ambition. Gabriel went on to share his ambitions, of growing his congregation and eventually even building a church. There were many things he needed for that, and Dericka gave some vague offers of help in the future. For the time being, she just wanted to get a read on him and understand the dynamics between the different groups, which she'd accomplished.

As she said goodbye and shook his hand, Gabriel held on to it as he looked her in the eye.

"Are you a religious woman, Dericka?"

She pursed her lips as she gave an innocent smile.

"Not exactly, but I do share a lot of the same values. And it's as you said; it's exactly during these hard times that we have to hold on to those values."

"You've been through some hard times, haven't you?" He asked, blue eyes boring into hers as he maintained his grip on her hand.

Dericka stiffened, her throat closing up for a moment, powerless to stop those memories from springing to the front of her mind. The sickening crunch of stone impacting flesh and bone, the pools of blood and mangled bodies-

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"Some very hard times indeed, I would say," Gabriel said with a satisfied smile as he finally let go. "Know that you are not alone in that. I encourage you to come by for one of my sermons, or even a confession. You may be surprised how much it can help with processing such things."

Unable to force a smile back onto her face, Dericka just gave a stiff nod before walking off, feeling shaken. That man had a keen insight and grand ambitions. With such a large group behind him, he'd end up wielding influence one way or another. It would be best to keep him on her good side.

She took her time walking over to the builders, letting the sights and sounds of the bustling work crews wash over her. There was something calming about watching people build things up. If she closed her eyes and only listened to the clamour of shouts and machines and hammering, she could almost pretend that she was back in the old world. Almost.

As she watched the group work, it wasn't hard to single out the leader, a short, squat man that somehow always seemed to be walking at a normal person's running speed. He went through the site like a whirlwind, giving directions, slapping some men on the back as he forced others to get back to work. She waited for a quiet moment to approach him, taking a moment to center herself before striding forward full of purpose and confidence.

"Joseph? I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Dericka, my Party just arrived yesterday."

Making sure to keep a firm grip as he squeezed her fingers with a calloused hand, she continued, speaking quickly and loudly.

"I was hoping you could tell me a bit about the builders. What the pay and hours are like, stuff like that, you know? I was just talking to Father Gabriel who said that there were already nearly two hundred of you?"

"Father Gabriel?" He asked, then snorted and spat on the ground. "That pretentious prick. Bet you didn't know his real name is Frank? Now everything's gone to shit, he's suddenly Gabriel, talking about Rapture and asking everyone and their mothers to go and confess."

She lifted her eyebrows with a grin. "I take it you two don't get along, then?"

"Few of my boys go to his sermons, sometimes they come back saying we should build them houses, we should build them a church," he shrugged. "As long as he doesn't brainwash my boys I ain't got no problem. Anyway, what did you want? I'm busy."

Dericka repeated her question and got some basic information about the builders. Joining was pretty straightforward if you had any building experience, though a decently high Strength stat would also go a long way. Her impression was that it would take a longer time for someone to build trust and make their way to the inner circle.

Unlike Gabriel, Joseph was easy to talk to and did not strike her as having any hidden agendas or grand ambitions. He only cared about his builders, or his 'boys' as he liked to call them. Uncaring about political correctness, he was quick to share an opinion about the military leadership when prodded.

"Tony's alright, most of the time. Gets in a mood sometimes. Just wish they'd give us more damn budget. Never enough materials, you know? He's a real straight shooter, too. Refuses to get us any damn booze," he shook his head with a grimace. "Guy can't even get a damn drink when the world's this fucked? That ain't right."

At the sound of shouts and falling building materials, Joseph suddenly took off, leaving her to consider his words. A picture was starting to take shape, one of different parties competing for a limited budget, with most of it being allocated to the military. Since everything else depended on the Value budget and access to the MAFT, it was clear where the real power lay; all in the hands of Major Russo.

As she made her way around the camps, struggling against the grief and guilt which were bubbling up again now that her distractions were gone, a young woman in uniform ran up to her.

"Miss Dericka?"

"That's me."

"Good," the young woman said, looking relieved. "I've been looking for you. Major Russo has requested a meeting. Please follow me."

It took a while for them to reach the Major's office, near the center of the settlement in a taller building, made up of multiple of the container-like barracks stacked on top of each other. Dericka felt unprepared and anxious for what she felt might be an important conversation.

Their steps echoed through the narrow hallway as they walked up some stairs made of what she thought was aluminum. They turned a few corners, going up another floor until they entered a hallway with two soldiers standing guard on either side of a closed door. She was asked to wait, unable to hear what was said behind the closed door, until she was called in.

Major Russo's office had the same sterile white lighting as the other rooms. The only things that made it less bare were a large desk and various hand-drawn maps and lists attached to whiteboards or walls.

Captain Garfield was standing next to the desk, nodding in greeting at her with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Captain Garfield, good afternoon," she said, mirroring his posture, then turning towards the shorter figure wearing an officer's attire, standing by the window with his back to the room.

"Major Russo, I presume. Good afternoon, sir."

When there was no reply, Dericka's eyes flicked to Captain Garfield, who was looking straight at the wall, not meeting her eyes. Only when the silence was turning from awkward to painful, Major Russo finally spoke in a rough voice.

"I wonder if it's been a mistake to offer safety so freely?"

Again, her eyes flicked to the Captain, but he remained still. It would be on her to answer the question then. She leaned forward to get a glimpse of what was beyond the window, quickly realizing he must be looking out at the campsite.

"I don't see how something so noble could be a mistake. Many more would die without protection."

"They would have led safe lives before, but they all fought hard to reach this place. I'd wager not one of the people out there had an easy path. A remarkable feat of strength and perseverance, just to get here," he paused briefly and it was only thanks to her high Senses that she noticed the clenching of his fist which was clasped behind his back.

"But as soon as they find the barest cover of safety, they sit on the grass and cry for hand-outs," he said, finally turning around to face her. There was a faint smile on his lips but his eyes looked cold and determined.

"Not even one in ten have asked to join my forces. We are challenged like never before. Our civilization was wiped away. We stand here, alive but humiliated, dancing to the invaders' every whim. The very survival of our species is at stake. And yet. One in ten. So I wonder: has it been a mistake?"

As the question hung in the air and the pressure of his gaze bore down on her, she had caue to be grateful once again for her high Intelligence stat. Her thoughts ran faster than ever as she took in his features: a few weathered lines on an otherwise plain face, clean shaven with short cut hair, a lean build and rigid posture. There would be nothing remarkable about him, if not for the fierce intensity that seemed to radiate from his eyes.

Should I answer? If so, should I sidestep the conflict or double down on my position? He's a military man. Conservative. Feeling anger and disdain for the campers. Calling me to his office and refusing to greet was a show of dominance. Does not respect passiveness. Likely to see deflection as weakness. Best to show strength, but no disrespect.

She made sure her back was straight and her chin lifted as she held his gaze.

"I see you're not one for pleasantries. Very well. I believe most of the people down there have had a taste of violence and found it hard to swallow. With respect, sir, we are humans, not ants. We can't be called to sacrifice ourselves for the greater good quite so easily, even if the need may be there."

"Ah," he said with a grin and rising eyebrows as he began to walk towards his desk, "Not a fan of Macchiavelli then, I take it. In normal circumstances, I might agree that the end should not justify the means, if those means involve sending people into high-casualty situations. But not when the survival of our species is at stake."

Dericka allowed herself to frown.

"If you truly believe that, sir, then why do you allow the status quo to continue?"

It was a slightly risky question, but she was honestly curious about his response. Either he didn't believe his own words, or there was something else going on.

His smile faded as he observed her, those dark eyes growing a touch colder still, until suddenly it was like he'd flipped a switch, his expression turning to genuine kindness.

"You'll have to excuse my musings, miss Dericka," he said with a sweet smile that deepened the folds around his eyes, "I tend to get quite lost in my thoughts sometimes. That is not why I called you here. And please, feel free to call me Tony. Major Russo is what my subordinates call me, and I believe you are still a civilian?" He raised his eyebrows to emphasize the question as he gestured for her to sit down, which she did.

He was deflecting. It might be true that he'd just been musing, but her instinct was that there was something else. But more important for now was the reason he'd called her here. Given the focus on gathering more soldiers and the perceived strength of her Party, it had to be related to recruitment, so it'd be best to get ahead of that request.

"Yes I am, and I intend to remain… unaffiliated, for the time being. Some of my Party members might be interested in joining your ranks, however, but that will be their decision."

To her surprise, Tony was nodding along, still carrying a pleasant smile.

"Good. We do need more fighters. But luckily, there are also ways to contribute without joining the military ranks. Are you familiar with settlement challenges?"

"My understanding is that waves of beasts would assault the settlement, though I haven't seen any of that going on here."

"Initially, yes. But once a second successful defense is achieved, the settlement will be considered 'established', after which the assaults will cease as long as a quota of Quests is reached. That quota not only becomes ever more challenging, but also scales with population."

Dericka's eyes widened as she took that information in. That would explain the lower number of soldiers she'd seen around here - most of them would be out on Quests.

"We've completed a Quest before, it was to kill a boss-type beasts. The reward was quite high."

"Some of them have bosses as targets," he nodded, "others are for killing a certain number of a certain type of beast. A few involve gathering herbs or minerals from dangerous places. Some of them take place a few zones away from here, so our teams spend quite a bit of time traveling. It's a never-ending race to stay ahead of the quota."

He sighed, then leaned forward with his hands on his desk.

"Which is why we've seen fit to recruit non-military Parties to complete some Quests. People have bonded with their Parties and wish to stick together, without having to follow orders outside of handling Quests. Freelancers, if you will. We don't have many that can handle Citrine or Cadmium level Quests. Which is why we need your help."

Dericka kept her face neutral as she considered how best to reply. Perhaps Tony had detected her reluctance, because he went on to sweeten the deal.

"We would offer you half the reward in Value, in addition to housing in the settlement for your Party, as well as MAFT access," he said, looking at her expectantly.

The only thing Dericka was thinking of, however, was how best to word her rejection. There wasn't even a fraction of her that would put her remaining Party members at risk. This was exactly why they needed her. She had to protect them at all costs.

"I'll have to refuse. For the time being, we're not in a position to take on any Quests."

Tony just looked at her, his eyes turning cold again, but Captain Garfield exploded with rage.

"How dare you!" He roared suddenly, taking a step forward. With her Senses as high as they were, she could see not just drops of spit flying, but also his right hand twitching towards his pistol. She tensed in her seat. "You ungrateful-"

"Hold, Captain," Tony raised a hand as he somehow cut through the Captain's roar with a steady voice.

"Sir! If she's not willing to lift a single finger-"

"That's enough," Tony said, the words more quiet than before, but somehow sounding dangerous. Captain Garfield stepped back, jaw set and eyes forward. Dericka noticed how he began to nervously scratch the back of his right hand, where there was an ugly scar.

"I hope you will reconsider, miss Dericka." His expression hadn't changed throughout the exchange, just as his eyes had never left her. She swallowed.

"We've lost too many-"

"If you change your mind, please send word. Thank you for your time." He spoke straight over her.

Dericka fought to maintain her composure as she got up and left the room, feeling thoroughly shaken. She walked around the corner, out of sight of the guards, then paused to lean against the wall and gather her thoughts.

She felt threatened. Those men were dangerous and she had the distinct feeling that they'd just marked her as an opponent, if not an outright enemy. If they came after her, what could she do? They controlled not only the soldiers, but also access to the MAFT as well as the allocation of Value from Quests. All she had was a small, nearly broken Party.

It seemed like an impossible problem, but she latched onto it with a will. Here was a challenge to deal with, something she could do to protect her Party and make up for her past mistakes. Feeling a bit lighter, her mind whirring with ideas, she set out back to her barracks.

Dericka was walking down the hall lost in thought when two more people in uniform walked past, pausing their conversation as they saw her. The man was red-eyed while the woman held a stern expression. On a hunch, she slowed down as they passed and flexed her hearing after they went around the corner.

"Look, I know I fucked up, but please, you have to help me, how can I make this right?" The man spoke in a pleading whisper.

"I was ordered to bring you in. There's nothing I can do, Sam."

"Christ Anna, please, you know how he punishes people," he pleaded again, sounding close to tears.

"Look, you can do this, alright? Just… be strong. It won't help if you're weak-"

They moved out of earshot then and Dericka walked away feeling even more disturbed and motivated to find ways to break Tony's influence.

What kind of messed up things were going on in that office of his?

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