World Filter

Panic spread among their people once they realized the tenders couldn't leave the spire after entering. For one, people's curiosity quickly dried up when it came to exploring the newly opened structure.

Even though it had shown no signs of stopping anyone but the bound individuals, people were hesitant to enter after the word spread. The average person could come and go easily, unless one of the bound expressly forbade it.

They could prevent people from entering and leaving, but only as long as the majority agreed.

Mark had watched as everyone trapped in the spire gathered together once more and started brainstorming. They tried everything they could think of to get out, but every attempt was met with failure.

Sam had tried not to show her concern, but Mark noticed the lines forming on her forehead—she was clearly searching for a way out, if only to help the others. Jonathan was much the same, though his motivation likely stemmed more from his hatred of feeling trapped and powerless.

Either way, it seemed like they would all be spending the night inside the spire. Mark had quickly flown back the the base, grabbed a couple of things for Sam and Jon to feel more comfortable, but honestly, he wasn't sure how well he'd be holding up if he were in their situation.

When he got back, he saw that most individuals were still waiting outside, watching the show from the open doors.

Mark stepped through the large threshold to take in the sights. From their earlier testing, they had built several buildings of different natures. Some were normal apartment blocks, while others were just strange. For example, one of the tenders had built and burger joint, but they had turned the entire structure on its head like some upside-down house. It was even furnished in garish reds and yellows.

Mark walked passed the building until her arrived in an open space where the creation had begun. This had made the spot a de facto gathering point near the center. As Mark turned, he saw several soldiers looking over the wall of a fort where the Loyalists had taken up residence. They had had their tenders create a defensible location the moment they had discovered they could make anything. Colonel Liam was no longer here, but Jason had remained, watching over everything. To the left of that was a glass pyramid resembling the Louvre, where the guilds had taken their people.

That just left NAS and their order's people to collect in the block of flats Jose had created. It was rather Spartan, but still functioned as a base of operations for now. There was no water or electricity in the buildings yet, but Mark could see the telltale signs of Mana being used to light things up inside.

As of yet, there weren't many other buildings they could have holed up in, but this suited their needs. What that meant was that the rest of the place felt like a ghost town. With so few people willing to enter now, only the most fervent, curious, or brave were willing to stay inside this place for any period.

"Mark adjusted the backpack on his shoulder and stepped into the building, emerging into an open-air courtyard surrounded by apartments. Stepping into the space, he saw that several heads looked up from their preparations. NAS's people were evident here, as were their leaders. Lisa was the first to smile in his direction as she leaned back against Nathan, who barely registered Mark's arrival with a nod.

"Ah, good to see you, Mark. Have you come to deliver supplies? You know you really could have had someone do that for you," she said with a smirk

Mark shot her a strained smile.

She was right, of course. If he wanted, there was any number of people he could have sent the supplies with. Hell, everything he'd brought could just about be replaced by the system, but Mark thought they might like something familiar right about now.

Plus, he wasn't going to leave friends alone in here if he could help it.

"Nah, it's not a problem. How are the other parties? Still not speaking?" he asked.

Lisa leaned back and rolled her eyes.

"You expected anything else? The Loyalists are pissed at us and the guild is trying to remain neutral. Patrica said she'd be here, so I'm going to take watch until then. After that, it's your guys' turn."

Mark nodded as he took a look around the space. They had filled it with crates of supplies and weapons, as several fighters remained on guard rotations. They knew the loyalists weren't taking things so well, so it was only smart to keep watch. Mark didn't think they would attack them, but one could never be too careful in the current day and age.

He headed for the access stairs out of the courtyard and climbed to the second level. Each tender currently had a room of their own, with guards stationed outside, save for Sam's and Jonathan's.

As he passed them, Shelby's door remained open as he sat in a lawn chair surrounded by several of his followers. As Mark passed, their eyes followed him, but he never said a word. None of them did, it was quite disconcerting.

Mark knocked on Sam's door and quickly turned the handle to step inside. A gloomy light issued from within, cast by several flickering flames hanging in the air. Mark found Sam sitting cross-legged on a Queen-sized bed surrounded by documents. Jonathan was just in front of her, pacing the length of the room like a caged beast. Seeing the two of them in such a state, Mark set down the packs near the door, getting their full attention.

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"Hey, I brought you guys some things from your rooms," he said steadily.

Jonathan paused for a moment but turned to the window to look out over the spires' empty space beyond. Sam, on the other hand, smiled as she beckoned him closer with a pat on the mattress.

"Thanks, Mark. We appreciate it."

He nodded and went to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Have you guys figured anything else out while I was gone?" he asked.

Jonathan huffed from the corner, but Sam just shook her head sadly.

I tried talking to the others, but as you can imagine, they're not exactly cooperative right now. Jason's doing what he can, but it'll take time. Unfortunately, our research on the spire stalled a while ago. The loyalists might have more information, but for now, we're at a loss.

Mark knew she was talking about the equipment Dr. Haley and Dr. Johnson had put together. It had been capable of analyzing system products and such. Hell, it had been instrumental to helping them discover what was happening to Jonathan's body. So it was not a stretch to say it might be capable of discovering secrets hidden by the structure.

"Alright, well, has it been decided yet what will happen?" Mark asked.

Jonathan spoke up now.

"We'll convene in the morning to decide how to use the spire's energy best to build. Ning Wei is convinced we should start outfitting the place for residents. People are still scared of entering the spire, but that won't last long. Pretty soon we'll have more people in here than we can manage."

Mark nodded

He understood where Jon was coming from. They wouldn't be able to keep people out, nor would they attempt to.

Right now, the Spire was empty, but once people got over their fear, who wouldn't want to stay in a place where no Corrupted could enter?

It hadn't been put to the test yet, but after seeing what the spire did to the Corrupted just for being nearby, it didn't take much imagination to guess how it would react if they tried to enter.

Soon, this place would be crawling with people, and right now, they had no way to manage them. The system had probably implemented the 'protector' mechanics for a reason, but until every tender had one, they were limited to accepting only a single 'applicant' each.

"This is going to be like the factions consolidating power all over again," Mark observed.

Sam shook her head.
"Probably not as drastic. There's already a status quo, and it shouldn't take as much effort to rebuild it in here."

Jonathan had begun drawing shapes on the windowpane, his nail leaving scratch marks on the glass.
"That's half the problem," he growled. "They're even more hesitant to work with us now because they think we have the upper hand, and they expect us to take advantage of it. Just because that's what they'd do to us."

His voice dripped with venom. The scratching didn't stop until fine spiderweb cracks bloomed across the glass with a soft, sharp plink.

Mark felt his Prana in the air being steadily drawn in by Jonathan.

"Okay, big guy, let's step away from the glass. Right now, we can't do much, so we just have to wait. I know being trapped in here wasn't part of the plan, but we'll figure it out," he said.

Jonathan did step away from the window, but now his full attention was on Mark—and he looked pissed.

"That's easy for you to say, you're not trapped in here!"

"No, it's not!" Mark snapped back. "It's not easy for any of us. But you, of all people, need to keep your head on straight."

Jonathan stepped toward him, eyes narrowing with that dangerous edge he didn't always bother to hide. His aura didn't flare, but it didn't need to; there was a weight to his presence when he was angry, a cold intensity that made people flinch.

And even though he towered over them both, Mark didn't move. He stood there, steady, his expression firm.

Jonathan's fists clenched at his sides, jaw tight. For a long moment, it looked like he might lose it, not because of Mark, but because the walls were closing in, and every time they thought they had a handle on things, something shattered that illusion.

The only thing Jonathan hated more than being unable to act was being forced to waste time on pointless delays.

Mark understood that. More than that, he respected it. Jonathan wasn't angry just for the sake of it. He was frustrated because they were stuck, spinning their wheels when they could be out there making a difference. And now, instead of progress, all they could do was wait, posture, and compromise.

But Mark wasn't going to let him take that frustration out on them.

"If you need to let off steam," Mark said, his tone shifting—not soft, but less sharp, more familiar, "say the word. I haven't given my core a proper workout yet, and I'd love to see if you can even land a hit."

That caught Jonathan off guard. His eyes lit up, not with anger this time but something closer to a challenge accepted. His stance shifted, weight subtly forward like he was already preparing to move toward the front door.

But before either of them could so much as flinch, Sam's voice cut through the tension.

"Wait. You manics can beat the hell out of each other later." She stepped between them, arms crossed, an eyebrow arched in that unimpressed way.

"I know you're dying for a fight, but we need to focus. The 'Protector' mechanic is too important to ignore, and if we don't bring it up tomorrow, we'll lose whatever ground we still have."

The fire didn't vanish from Jonathan's eyes, but it dulled. Mark exhaled through his nose and took a half-step back.

"She's right," he said, glancing at Jonathan. "The mechanic was designed for this kind of scenario. If we want to get real answers, we need to make sure every Tender is paired."

Jonathan frowned, but he nodded. "It's the best play… but do you really think they'll go for it? Especially if it's us making the suggestion?"

Sam shook her head. "Jason, maybe, but the rest? Not a chance… Unless the request comes from the only neutral party here."

She let the words hang for a moment, then turned her gaze meaningfully on Jonathan.

He sighed, rolling his neck. "I'll talk to Ning Wei tomorrow before the meeting. See if I can get her to bring it up." His voice had calmed, but there was still steel beneath it.

Sam grinned, stepping back. Her whole demeanor relaxed, and the tension in the air had eased.

"Good. Then I won't hold you up. If you two are still hellbent on knocking each other around, go for it. I'll make myself useful and find Shelby to relieve NAS of guard duty."

Jonathan's shoulders slumped, but Mark just snorted at his deflated expression.

"I saw someone set up a sparring ring out back," Mark taunted. "But if you're already backing out, just say so—I don't want to waste my warmup."

Jonathan's eyes narrowed at the obvious jab, but that competitive light crept in again. The two of them were out the door before Sam could finish rolling her eyes.