Chapter 21: Laying Foundations

  Raven scanned the sink’s options, but the answer remained the same—none of the constructs would work without the right people to run them. That was a problem.

  Then a thought struck him.

  What if traits could be bought?

  His eyes widened as the idea took hold. If the store could provide weapons, books, and even food, maybe it could offer something even more fundamental. He didn’t wait—he stood abruptly, excusing himself with a rushed, “I’ll be back soon,” before anyone could question him.

  Wilkes frowned but let him go. Liu, watching curiously, merely raised an eyebrow before turning back to the discussion at hand.

  Raven moved quickly through the halls, arriving at the cafeteria. He placed his hand on the market stand and willed the store to show available traits. Sure enough, common traits appeared—farming, hunting, construction, even basic medicine.

  His mind raced.

  If they could use the sink to develop food production and self-sufficiency, they wouldn’t just be surviving—they’d be building something sustainable. He scrolled through the construct options again, checking costs and requirements. The hydroponic farm caught his eye. It was expensive, but exactly what they needed. If they could buy the farm and assign trait stones to willing workers, they could start a food source immediately.

  He turned on his heel and sprinted back to the meeting.

  As he entered, Wilkes folded his arms. “Mind telling us where you ran off to all of a sudden?”

  Raven barely caught his breath before launching into an explanation. “The shop—it doesn’t just sell items. We can buy common trait stones. Farming, hunting, construction. It means we don’t have to wait for people to develop the right skills naturally. We can train them.”

  The group fell silent.

  Then Liu giggled. “That… that’s brilliant, how did we not think to check this.” Her fingers tapped against the table, thoughts already racing.

  Wilkes rubbed his chin. “So, we can actually set up a working farm?”

  Raven nodded. “We’ll need volunteers, but the sink just refilled. We can afford the farm and at least six people to start.”

  Hope crept into the room where there had only been pressure and desperation before.

  Wilkes raised a hand. “This takes precedence. We’ll table everything else and get the farm operational first.”

  Liu pressed a palm to the table. “There’s an empty ward on the eastern side of the second floor. Large windows, plenty of sunlight. That should be our spot.”

  The group headed upstairs. The ward was spacious, its once-white walls faded and stained, but the natural light made it the best option.

  Raven scanned his grimoire and selected the construct—ten meters long, five rows spaced a foot apart. As the group watched, the air thickened with swirling dust, moving in controlled, unnatural patterns. A faint hum filled the room, like static before a storm. Piping formed from dark stone, marbled with shifting veins of colour. Small bowls emerged along the rows. The ground trembled before the last of the dust lifted away, revealing a large tank and a pedestal with a worn-looking ledger.

  Raven stepped forward and placed his hand on the ledger. Bold letters flashed across its surface:

  Farming trait required for use.

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  Well, that confirmed it. They needed trait stones.

  They exchanged glances and returned to the meeting room. Raven wasted no time, ducking back to the shop to make the purchase.

  On his return, he handed the stones to Wilkes and Liu. Liu turned one over in her palm and exhaled. “I’ll take one.”

  Raven eyed her. “You sure?” he asked, voice low. “This might mess with your natural trait development.”

  Liu didn’t hesitate. She rolled the stone thoughtfully, then met his gaze. “I’m sure. People need to eat. If this helps us survive, it’s worth it.”

  Raven watched her a moment longer, then nodded. “Alright. Let’s see what this does.”

  The others gathered around as Liu pressed the stone to her chest. A soft glow pulsed from its core. Light shimmered from the surface, delicate wisps unravelling like threads before surging into her. The energy coiled around her chest, sinking inward like water into dry soil.

  She exhaled, fingers twitching as warmth spread through her body. The stone crumbled to dust.

  “You good?” Wilkes asked.

  Liu flexed her fingers, then pulled her grimoire from her belt. She flipped it open, scanned the page, and her eyes widened.

  “I have a new trait,” she murmured. “Plant affinity… and a skill called ‘Growth.’”

  Raven leaned over. “Looks like you’re officially our first farmer.”

  Liu smirked. “Damn right.” She snapped the book shut. “Now, I’m going to get some volunteers.”

  As she left, Wilkes turned to Carter. “You got a plan for researching these traits?”

  Carter crossed his arms, thinking. “Yeah. I’ll start with you and Raven. Then bring in the officers. I also think we should start lessons—get the officers working on unlocking their seed cores when they’re not patrolling.”

  Wilkes nodded. “Makes sense. We need every edge we can get.”

  Raven glanced at Carter. “How long do you think it’ll take to see results?”

  Carter shrugged. “No idea. Could be fast, could be slower. But if we don’t start, we’ll never know.”

  Before Wilkes could respond, Carter added, “We should train the farmers too. That garden construct might need Ether.”

  Raven frowned. “You think the farm needs an energy source?”

  Carter nodded. “Everything else uses Ether. If the farm’s a long-term solution, it might need more than a trait to run.”

  Wilkes rubbed his chin. “If it’s like our own abilities, stronger cores mean better results.”

  Raven crossed his arms. “That’s assuming they can unlock cores at all. Not everyone does.”

  Carter smirked. “That’s why we start now. Even basic Ether use could sustain the farm. We can’t let it fail in a few weeks because no one can power it.”

  Wilkes nodded. “Add it to the list. Once we assign volunteers, start their Ether training.”

  Carter grinned. “Good. We need more than fighters. We need people who can make this place work.”

  Raven exhaled. “Let’s hope we find some fast learners.”

  Wilkes turned to Henson. “Training plan? And how many officers can we spare for scouting?”

  Henson leaned back. “One squad should handle training if we get a couple dozen volunteers. We’ll drill them in basics—conditioning, weapons, shield wall. That formation’s saved us before.”

  Wilkes nodded. “And scouting?”

  “Three-man patrols, max. We can’t go blind, but we can’t stretch thin.” He tapped his chin. “Mix roles—a ranged fighter, a shield, and a spear. Best we can do until gear improves.”

  He paused. “But there’s something else. These people are risking their lives. They’ll need a reason to keep going.”

  Wilkes exhaled. “You mean rewards.”

  Henson nodded. “Priority access to gear. Rank. Influence. Something tangible. We need morale.”

  Wilkes nodded. “We don’t have much now, but if we want people pushing harder, we’ll need to give them something. Keep thinking.”

  He scanned the room. No one spoke. He nodded sharply. “Right. Carter, you’re on Ether training. Henson, get volunteers trained and coordinate with Carter.”

  Liu returned. Wilkes raised an eyebrow. “Perfect timing. Volunteers?”

  She grinned. “More than enough. Five with gardening experience. One guy ran a hydroponic cannabis setup—he swears it was legal.”

  “Perfect,” Wilkes said. “Get them started. Let’s see what this construct can do.”

  He turned to Raven. “You’re scouting. Check the sink’s perimeter, map the area. My men need rest. You’re our eyes now.”

  Raven moved through the halls, scanning shadowed corners and open doorways. He was looking for her—Uri.

  She’d been gone too long.

  He checked the usual spots—medical, storage, the rooftop exit. Nothing. He clenched his fists, pushing down the unease. She could handle herself—he knew that—but still…

  Something felt wrong.

  Worried he moved for the exit, grabbing his gear on the way. The crisp air outside was a stark contrast to the tension inside. He adjusted his pack and disappeared into the ruins.

  Upstairs, Wilkes leaned against the window frame, watching Raven leave the perimeter. He’d expected Raven to lead, expected conflict. But it hadn’t happened.

  Instead, Raven handed over control without a fight.

  That unsettled Wilkes more than he liked to admit.

  The kid had done more than anyone for their survival. But something about him felt off—something Wilkes had sensed from the beginning.

  He’d seen it before. Soldiers who walked through hell and came back with shadows in their eyes. Some learned to live with it.

  Others never came back at all.

  Wilkes exhaled and pushed the thought aside.

  Whatever was going on in Raven’s head, it wasn’t something he could fix.

  They had work to do.