Severance wondered if the people standing in front of him were missing a few screws. Did they really think that he'd actually want to ditch his own Clan to join theirs? Maybe the Veiled were a little questionable at times, but at least they weren't a crackpot den of evil clowns.

He frowned at MissMe. "Is this all you wanted to talk about?"

"Is this all?" Ervante repeated, his tone suggesting he was positively scandalized. "You dare to speak thus, after all I've taken care to explain? Such flippancy!"

You know what? Severance shifted his weight, glancing over the side of the skybridge. I've had enough. I'd rather play with Vast then deal with this crazy crap.

"Sorry, I'm not really interested."

"Preposterous fool!" Ervante threw up his hands. "Though perhaps I should not be so quick to pass judgement, for no doubt your perspective has been shaded most predominantly by the Veiled propaganda. Thus, I will allow you some time to ponder your decision—for it is one most important and bears careful consideration—and in the meantime, I shall endeavour to grant you a proper education."

Yeah whatever. Like he was going to waste braincells trying to make sense of what the clown said, other than the gist of it being a threat. It wasn't the first time Severance had been threatened in this game. He was almost getting used to it.

Without bothering to reply, he turned away, though he wasn't quite brave enough to turn his back entirely to either MissMe or Ervante.

"System," he said while warily keeping an eye on them, "Clan House."

As his vision became flecked with snow, he caught MissMe shaking her head and Ervante staring at him, his gaze burning with malice.

***

Silence filled the room.

Severance hated it. He wanted someone to speak, to break that oppressive quiet, yet the Veiled gathered around him were content to wait. He didn't know what they were waiting for.

He wasn't even sure why he was here to start with. No sooner had he returned from his weird meeting with the Traders than Olen had invited him into the dining room. There, seated at one of the long tables, were the seven branch representatives of the Veiled clan.

He'd taken a seat at the end next to Olen, who was kind enough to run through quick introductions.

There was the Clan Head, Agadhi, with his righthand man Olen beside him. On the other side of him was Maun, wearing a serious expression for once. If there was any sign that this little impromptu meeting was very important, then that would be it.

Bian and Batin, both of whom Severance was familiar with, were there. They gave him a slight nod in greeting. Kamau, the gruff fellow that Severance had only met in passing, merely grunted in acknowledgement.

The last person was a woman he'd never met. Hassiba bore an old, gruesome scar upon her face. It went from her chin up into her hairline, bisecting right through one eye. It was clear she'd lost that eye, but she didn't bother with an eyepatch. Nor did she use her hair to hide it, for her ebony locks were tightly braided against her scalp, as if ensuring that her grievous injury would be visible to all.

A full minute passed like an eternity, during which everyone watched Agadhi. The man appeared to be lost in thought, his gaze hooded while he lightly tapped a finger against the table. It made no sound.

Eventually, the finger stopped. Agadhi broke the silence. "It seems we have a problem."

Maun dipped his head in a nod. "Hm."

Severance didn't dare breathe. He didn't want to draw attention to himself, just in case that problem had something to do with him.

"They are moving far sooner than we anticipated." Agadhi went on. He looked around the table, meeting every person's gaze one by one. Even Severance, who stiffened in surprise at being included.

Batin's sharp eyes narrowed. "We knew it would come to this. Parvath was aware of the risks, and he was prepared for it. As are the rest of us, no?"

"As much as we can be, I think." As Olen said this, his gaze slid to Severance. He smiled slightly. "We cannot discount the power of the Outsiders, however. They can change everything, for the better or the worse."

Severance kept quiet, unwilling to interrupt. He paid close attention, however, because this was the first time the Veiled were including him. Whatever the reason, this was a chance for him to learn more about them.

"All the more reason to move our own plans forward," Agadhi said mildly. They are making use of the Outsiders as we knew they would. It is fortunate that the gates stand in their way, for they will not open easily, even to an Outsider."

"Then we have time yet," Kamau spoke gruffly. His heavy brow made him look grumpy.

"Indeed." Without warning, Agadhi's gaze abruptly focused on the only Outsider in their midst. "Severance."

"Yes?" he carefully answered.

"Your loyalty is much appreciated." Agadhi's stern expression might have softened just a tad, but that could have been Severance's imagination.

What's he talking about? Severance had only been around for a few days, and other than going on a burglary quest, he really hadn't done much of anything.

"Rasin has informed me of what transpired with the Free Traders, and I—we—are gratified to see that we have not misjudged you."

Severance nodded along, before he froze. "Wait, how did you know about that? I didn't even tell Rasin what happened yet."

He doubted that five minutes had even passed between the moment he arrived and the moment Olen pulled him into the meeting. And he hadn't even seen Rasin once since he got back!

A few of the Veiled showed small smiles, though Agadhi remained entirely unreadable. "You didn't need to. Rasin followed you in case you ran into trouble, but it seemed you handled yourself well."

"Of course Sev did," Maun said with satisfaction. "I taught him well."

You, taught? Severance would have rolled his eyes if it was just Maun and him in the room. Terrorize would have been a more accurate word than taught.

"I had no idea Rasin was there," he admitted.

A snort came from Bian. "I'd be surprized if you did. Rasin's got years of experience on you. If you noticed him following you, he might as well as retire and take up needlework."

Severance blinked. Then he tilted his head, trying that mental image on for size. A gruff man in black, sitting on a silent battlefield surrounded by bloody bodies, biting his lip while concentrating on sewing a shirt. It was very bizarre to say the least, and he almost cracked a smile.

Then he realized that Agadhi was watching him, and he felt silly for letting his imagination get carried away. He shifted in his chair. Being the center of attention made him uncomfortable, as it always did, but Bian and Maun's lighthearted banter had helped break the ice.

"I would like to pose a question to you, Severance."

"Okay," Severance agreed, though he knew Agadhi was just being polite. The Veiled Leader would go ahead and ask it regardless.

"I realize the circumstances of your joining the clan have been unusual, and you have had only a small amount of time to adjust. Even so, time is not on our side. Therefore, I wish to ask if you are willing to lend us your strength."

All eyes settled upon him. Severance could feel them. He felt like a target with seven rifles pointed at the bullseye painted on his forehead. He knew that this could very well be the next quest his clan had for him, so agreeing was a given.

Yet the image of the man he'd gutted during fighting the Traders swam to the forefront of his mind. Was that death really necessary? Were those goods that they'd taken worth it?

There was so much about the situation and dynamic between clans that Severance didn't understand. He hardly even knew who the Veiled were, though if Rasin's story held any meaning, they were probably a lot more important than he or anyone could ever have imagined.

Why did he even tell me that story? It makes everything more confusing!

Severance wanted to be careful about what he got involved in. Especially when everything was horribly realistic. He didn't want to have to kill any more people, even if they weren't real.

He met Agadhi's dark, glittering gaze. "Can I ask what you are fighting for?"

The man's lips lifted subtly. "You can. Our goal is balance. It might not be evident to you yet, but Eliona is in a state of disorder. There are clans that seek to use this opportunity to overthrow the others and gain more power. A war is brewing, and it is one that Eliona cannot survive. What we are fighting for, then, is Eliona's survival. To do so, we must return the world to balance."

The choice of wording was not lost on Severance. Usually people fought to win, and on TV, it was always about good defeating evil. But here, neither of those things were mentioned. Survival was the word that Agadhi had used, and the stakes didn't get much higher than that.

That was something worth fighting for, he supposed.

Besides, after all he'd done so far, it would be silly to back out now. Especially since he was pretty much a man in black murderer himself at this point.

There was an odd urge to laugh, one that he didn't think was exactly appropriate for this moment. He shifted in his chair, his hands clenched under the table where no one could see, and focused on not making a fool of himself by bursting into cackles.

Great, Ervante was contagious.

"I think," he said slowly, "that I'm okay with that."

Agadhi's lips twitched upwards in a brief, but rare sign of approval. "Very good. Then prepare yourself, for the road ahead of you will not be easy."

Nothing in my life has been easy, Severance thought, though he nodded once to show he understood.

"Hassiba," Agadhi turned to one of the two women in the room. "If you would, please."

Without a word, she rose, pushing her chair back with a screech. Severance

looked up as she came around the table towards him, and he mentally reeled at the sight of her. Now that she was close, he could see the scar was even more gruesome than he realized. Ropy scar tissue snaked up her face, a permanent disfigurement

that ruined any physical beauty she had.

Despite being so brutally marred, she didn't seem to be ashamed of it. As she approached him, Severance could see the fierce gleam of pride and confidence in her remaining eye. She even caught his gaze, chin lifting as if saying, what you're going to do about it, huh?

"Quite the trophy, isn't it?" She stopped by his chair, lips quirking as she tapped her cheek, right below the missing eye. "Took a blade meant for my niece. Lost an eye, but saved her life. More than worth it in my opinion."

With some effort, he dragged his gaze away from that disturbing scar and made himself meet her eye. She couldn't have reached her forties yet, since her face held few lines and her hair was still dark as night.

"It looks fierce," he told her.

It was the right thing to say, for a bright smile transformed her features. "It does, doesn't it? My niece hates it, but she'll see. Scars like these are just proof you're too tough for life to beat down."

Severance was taken aback. She seemed so confident and cheerful despite the fact she'd clearly gone through some terrible things. Her scars were a thing of meaning and pride to her.

A furrow dug into his forehead, because he couldn't understand that. To him, scars were reminders of nightmares, and were things that he wished he could erase.

"So," she went on, "let's do this."

Do what? He wondered, but the answer came quickly. Hassiba reached out, gripping his upper arm over the odd little tattoo mark.

Realization struck him in an instant. His eyes widened. Wait!

"From my bloodline I gift you: Precaution."

Heat flared from her palm, intense and shockingly painful to the point he gasped and flinched away. Her grip was like cords of steel, unyielding, unrelenting, and what only took a moment felt like an eternity.

Hot fire surged throughout him, quickly cooling to a more tolerable warmth that was almost comfortable. So distracted was he that he didn't notice Hassiba letting him go, nor the System chiming merrily. It wasn't until pale yellow letters scrolled across his vision that he lifted his head and took notice.

Congratulations, Severance! You have learned a unique clan skill: Precaution

And with that, new knowledge unfurled in his brain. Without even having to look at his Skill tree in the System menu, he knew exactly what the skill was and how to use it.

Precaution. I can store a chosen skill once a day, and instantly cast it with no restrictions. And it's only useable once a day.

He took that information in, brow furrowing as he thought over the implications of this new ability. Storing a skill for later use didn't exactly sound that useful when skills generally only took a few seconds to cast. But it was the 'instant cast' part that caught his attention.

That would be useful for a Revive, or even a blast of Ionize. He wasn't sure what the 'no restrictions' part entailed, but he'd have to play around with it and see how it worked.

"Well?" Hassiba said. He looked up to see her still standing before him, a hand propped on a hip. "What do you think?"

"I'm not sure," he said honestly. "It looks useful, but I'll have to try it out."

He was still trying to process what had just happened. The fact that he'd still felt pain when she touched him was just as disturbing as it had been when Maun granted his Gift, but on the plus side, he was still in the game. It hadn't booted him out this time.

Hassiba's single eye creased in a smile. "It's different from Maun's, but I think it may be even more useful to an Outsider like you."

She had a point there. Severance had several skills to use it on, and he'd probably even gain more as he leveled. Still, he hadn't ever imagined he'd get another Gift so soon. If Awesome Dude found out, he'd probably implode.

Severance rubbed it arm. It felt a little tender, but nothing like before. Yet he couldn't quite stifle the trickle of unease. For a clan who conscripted him merely to make sure he didn't spread around their secrets, they were a little too eager to help him.