Grimsley examined a collection of trinkets hanging from a stall.They swayed back and forth in the breeze, and most of the currents that pushed them around were generated by the constant passage of foot traffic nearby. The markets of Beijing were busy, and always seemed to be crammed with people at every time of day. Grimsley had already poked his head out of his hotel in the night and noticed that the streets were just as packed at any time of day. It just seemed to be how this world operated.

It was all vastly different from the sleepy town of Easley that he had grown up in. Everything he had come to experience since leaving there had been different, and it hadn't followed along the path he had predicted at all. He was separated from his sister, and had been since the day he signed up from the military. He never saw her, never heard from her, just knew she was attending school at the academy and helping everyone with repairs. She was following her own dream. Was Grimsley following his still?

The youth glanced back over his shoulder, towards the edge of the city. He could make out the blurry form of the Goliaths at the landing pads, and had to assume one of them was his, sitting there, waiting for him. It was a very strange feeling to know he had a Goliath, and it was one he wasn't familiar with. It had hit him very suddenly when Ronald had left them at the border to the Eastern United States. His ancient body was tired of the travelling, and he had called it quits, opting instead to just find a flight back home while the Enian Federation and Eastern United States were still at peace with each other. He seemed to have genuine fears of getting trapped in a foreign country.

As Ronald had left, he had handed over the battlesuit to Grimsley, claiming that it was as much the youth's as it was his own, and that he could never pilot it alone anyways. Grimsley wasn't entirely sure if he could properly pilot it alone either though. He had never operated the machine without Ronald around, had only moved it from one place to another while the old man was sleeping, but every battle he had ever fought in had involved a co-pilot. After all, he had never been officially trained on the warmachine.

Goulet placed his hand on Grimsley's shoulder in the market, snapping the young man back to reality. "Don't worry, they'll be safe out there. It's pretty hard to steal a Goliath."

"That's not my biggest concern," Grimsley sighed.

Goulet eyed the pilot for some time, sucking on his pipe. It seemed Goulet had entered heaven when they had reached Beijing, swiftly moving from one speciality store to the next, packing his pipe with all manner of fanciful herbs and leaves. They had visited more libraries and bookstores than Grimsley ever cared to be in again, and it had been a whirlwind tour of learning that had gone right over Grimsley's head.

"Perhaps," Goulet answered, "you'll know the answer to the questions inside your head when you put them to the test. For now, we cannot let this opportunity pass us."

"Let me guess, you found another library." Grimsley rolled his eyes at the old man, but he was eternally thankful to him. Goulet had been there with him almost since the beginning, and had immediately put aside their differences in nationality to help train Grimsley and keep him alive in the battlefields they had encountered. He had taken him under his wing and had shown him so many fascinating things about the world. It was as if Grimsley had lived on one side of a curtain and Goulet, rather than pulling the curtain back, had slowly pulled him around behind it.

There were certainly darker moments of doubt for Grimsley. He still struggled some days with the notion that the Jahari had been partially started by Goulet and Sigmeund. He knew it had been inevitable, that sooner or later a country would try to find truth in those rumours and would really wake them. After all, they were real, that much had been made clear. Then there were the times Grimsley thought about Easley, about the attack that had started everything for him. That had been the Artisans, Goulet's people. Goulet himself was a general, and the idea of Goulet ordering this attack on Grimsley's family kept him awake some nights.

But that wasn't who Goulet was. The man pursued knowledge, and greater ideals. He wanted to learn, and to share this knowledge with every person possible. He had taken in Grimsley without hesitation, pulled them both from that first contact with the Jahari. He hadn't cared about Grimsley's Enian origins, hadn't blinked at the fact that the two should be enemies. He pursued something greater than petty conflict. He wanted to know everything, and he wanted everyone else to feel the same.

It was a bizarre dream to chase, one that Grimsley could have never imagined for himself. His dreams involved Easley, involved living in his town and sauntering through the square, of passing hot days by the river and grabbing fresh bread from the bakery. And they were filled with his sister, and with Raven, the two of them finally together. That was what he aspired for. His peaceful life in Easley, without the looming threat of war or combat. No more training exercises or militia meetings. Just taking life day by day without having to worry about an inevitable apocalypse sooner or later.

Grimsley's dreams still lacked a job though. He was unsure how he would ultimately get by. His idealistic world saw Gretta working a repair shop as a mechanic and Raven already had a job as a researcher; she could just continue to work remotely. Aunt Shauna would pass, sooner or later, or at least retire, so that left Grimsley the only unknown.

The militia was the only thing he had ever done, and when he had done it, he had also always been partial to sitting out in the fields and doing nothing. It was a good life but it couldn't last forever. He would have to work one day, and he didn't know what that work would be. He just knew he wanted to be back in Easley, and be surrounded by the people there. He wanted to know his town was protected and safe and well-run.

Perhaps it was possible he could go run for mayor when he returned. Maybe that was the future he sought. Seemed somewhat ambitious though to go from absolutely no work to the highest job in town.

"And that's why you can't trust any salesman of Wooleth in this city," Goulet finished. Some sort of lecture had been ongoing, one that Grimsley had zoned completely out of. Sigmeund was shaking his head, having been on the receiving end of the teachings.

"Come on, they can't all be forgeries, that would mean there isn't a real one in the world." Sigmeund tossed the vial of crystals back and forth in his hands, visibly regretting every second he spent owning the Wooleth as Goulet explained.

"That's exactly the point." Goulet winked, drawing another puff from his pipe. Grimsley realized he was very out of the loop on this one. He had heard of Wooleth before, but he had never witnessed any, nor did he know anything about forgeries.

"So you saying that since all Wooleth comes from Beijing and all Wooleth in Beijing is fake, it's all fake?"

"They're just pretty rocks, aren't they?"

"They're valuable, that's what they are." Sigmeund held the vial up to his eye, swinging it back and forth slightly between two fingers as he examined the contents closely. "Those who collect know what to look for."

"I'm going to assume you only know that because you collect," Goulet scoffed, patting Grimsley on the back to encourage him in the mutual teasing of Sigmeund's hobbies. Grimsley was still very confused, but he knew enough about social signals, and he chuckled slightly.

Sigmeund scowled. "This is why I don't talk to you people." The man straightened up, pocketing his prized Wooleth, and his head swivelled around as he was suddenly on the hunt for something new. "I need to make a call."

Goulet's laughter subsided, and he gave Sigmeund a nod, taking Grimsley aside to let Sigmeund carry out his task. "Come, I have a library to show you."

"I knew it," Grimsley moaned. The libraries in Beijing were becoming a nightmare. There seemed to be one on every block, as the city was thought to house the majority of information from across the Eastern United States. They enjoyed a unified system here for just about everything, a centralized bureaucracy, and so there was an overflowing supply of libraries for everyone to peruse through.

Each of the libraries was blending together now. They were always just an endless array of data tablets and servers, black boxes lined up in rows. Each one had its own designs, this was true, and they were stuffed with statues and embroideries and projections to liven everything up, but at the end of the day, it was rows of black. It was computers and screens and nothing else of value. It was difficult to keep track of them in Grimsley's memory, as each faded into the next. It didn't help that he wasn't looking at any of the data housed in the libraries; it all had no meaning to him.

"We only need to be here for a short time, I believe I've finished most of my collection at this point." Goulet gave out a warm smile, something he had perfected in front of Grimsley. Every component of Goulet that felt like an elder would come out at that point, a surge of warmth and comfort and joy, and you couldn't help but agree to whatever he was proposing, even if it was the hated library.

"Fine, but this has to be the last one."

"I hope so too, so long as Sigmeund's call goes over well." Goulet walked through the doors to the library with confidence, nodding at the other scholars he based by. Everyone seemed to maintain a mutual respect for academics.

"What do you mean by that?" Grimsley always felt forgotten in these places, pushing through other men and women as he tried his best to keep up with his teacher. It was like they could sense he hated being there and wouldn't let him pass by with ease.

"Not really important." Goulet shook his head and pulled Grimsley through the crowd to help him catch up. "I'm sure he'll be fine, but you should be more concerned with yourself in here."

"Sorry, this really isn't my scene, no matter how many of them you drag me through." Grimsley brushed down his body and straightened up, leaning against one of the servers as Goulet began to access a terminal.

"Then perhaps you will want to be more concerned about your future. What are you planning to do after the wars?"

"After the wars?" Grimsley asked. The thought had never struck Grimsley that the war could end. He certainly had been going over dreams in his mind, but they didn't really factor in the end of war. It was more about him retiring, or what he would prefer to be doing instead of fighting, but he had never assumed the fighting stopped. Just that it wasn't near him, that he wasn't involved in it. But a world in which it absolutely did not exist?

"That is the plan, is it not?" Goulet withdrew his pipe and placed the tip of it on the edge of his lips, turning his head to eye Grimsley. "Also, can you check if I am allowed to smoke in this place?"

Grimsley's eyes wandered around briefly, barely looking for any signage. He was fairly certain he noted one posting that might have banned the act of smoking, but he didn't really care enough to take note. "I don't see anything that says you can't."

"That's good then." Goulet had already lit his pipe while Grimsley searched, apparently caring as much for the laws as the young man did. "Now, what are you going to do when you don't have to get into a Goliath again? Where will you go? Who will you become?"

"Well I mean...I haven't really thought about it."

"Really?" Goulet paused at the computer screen, genuine surprise crossing over his face. "I would have pegged you as being slightly more idealistic about these sorts of things. Aren't you always talking about your girl back home?"

"Sure but that's...like..." Grimsley scratched at the back of his head, stuck on how to explain himself. "I have dreams, I guess, but just, I've never thought that the wars were over, I just kind of thought about what I would do if I wasn't fighting, like if someone else was."

The elderly teacher sucked on his pipe for a great length of time, letting Grimsley's words hang in the air as he pondered them. He finally released a great puff of smoke into the air. A few people passing by took note and appeared slightly disgusted, shaking their heads at the act. "You may not like it, but I think I know what you should be doing."

"What?"

"You need a government job." Goulet pointed the end of his pipe at Grimsley as he spoke. "I think you need to get yourself elected to a council of representatives. You have to back up from Easley, and I know you don't want to, but hear me out. I believe you go back to Easley, you marry your lady friend, you pack your bags, get elected, and you head to the capital."

Grimsley shook his head, not entirely out of rejection, mostly at bewilderment at the seemingly random suggestion. "Why would I leave Easley when I just got back."

"I said you wouldn't like it." Goulet returned to his computer while continuing, multi-tasking his way through the conversation. "But you're a true country boy, from a small town in the middle of nowhere. You hold those values close to your heart, and I feel like you represent those people better than anyone." Grimsley only blinked slowly in response. "You want to live a daily life free of worries, and just be in your town. You don't think the fighting will go away, you just want it to stay away from Easley. And yet, when you were called to fight, you were the first one there to serve your country. That's the type of person who needs to be in government, who needs to make sure the cities don't forget about the little guy out there."

"Really?" Grimsley perked up slightly as he came around on the idea. He had only recently been tossing around the concept of running for mayor, but what about running for a senate seat or trying to become a minister? The Minister of Rural Affairs? What would that be like? Raven came from the capital anyways, it was possible she would have to return there someday for her work anyways, so it probably wouldn't be hard to convince her to move with him. And Gretta could be left behind to open a workshop and take care of Aunt Shauna.

Then he would be leaving behind the sunny fields he had always known for good. That was officially moving out. His current situation was all temporary, just military service where he would return eventually. A government position was different though, that was a job in another city, that was the kind of thing you went to and then never came back from, like so many other children of Easley who grew up and disappeared into the clutches of the city's temptations.

At least a difference would be made though. A little town like Easley could never be forgotten again, Grimsley would make sure of that much. Nor would any other town for that matter. There were already so many he had traversed through with Goulet, so many that were in a similar situation to Easley. They just wanted to get by and make sure they were safe. Things were normal and usual and they worked for them and they just didn't want that to change. And Grimsley didn't either. There was terror in change, the Jahari stood out as the greatest example of that. Easley had gotten by fine as part of the endless power struggle from the four major powers, but when someone tried to change the game and introduce the Jahari, now all the rules were gone. A squad of Goliaths couldn't come protect them from an invasion that tore up from beneath them.

Things just needed to settle and be consistent. It wasn't enough that the Jahari were a new issue, a symbol of change. Goulet was right; war was the ultimate unbalancing force. It was constantly destroying lives, taking away futures and shifting how the world functioned. Grimsley thought back to when he had first gone out to fight, when he had officially joined the armies and had boarded a massive warship to combat. And then it had gone down in flames. How many hundreds of men on that craft had died? And how many had come from the countryside, just like Grimsley? They had always imagined waking up to the sun and farming, to tending livestock or working in a bakery or the local factory, but it was all a predictable path. They would plan around it, build around it.

Not now.

Now they were all dead, in an instant. They hadn't even shown up in combat, shot down before it began as they were transported, and that was that. The wars didn't stop at that moment to consider what was going on. No Enian official stood up in outrage at the potentials that had just been crushed in an instant. They just planned the next move and went out to find more recruits to replace the ones they lost.

And what was Grimsley in all that? Just another piece, an even more valuable one in a fancy machine, but he was as much a part of fuelling the fighting as anyone else. And now it was no longer enough to just think about going back to Easley and living quietly. He had to make things right for his people. There was a greater reason he had left, something Saint Enia had planned for him, the higher calling the local priest had always spoken of. While Grimsley had never been very serious about his religion, he couldn't deny some of the messages, and this one rang true with him now.

He had a purpose.

"It seems we'll have to go." Goulet glanced up at the entrance of the library, where Sigmeund stood, stern-faced, observing them.

"What?" Grimsley shook his head as he pulled himself out of his thoughts and back into the reality around him. "His call is done?"

"Seems that way." Goulet transferred some data over to a small drive he always kept on his person. He had a whole collection of filled ones in his battlesuit. "Well, we'll see how it went."

As the pair approached their partner, Sigmeund's expression changed from serious to delighted, a smile slowly spreading with every step they took. "Good news then gentlemen."

"You found out your Wooleth was real?" Goulet joked.

Sigmeund narrowed his eyes but ignored the slight against him. "Not as important. I just spoke with our good friend Doctor Roth. He filled me in on most of the details."

"And?" Goulet folded his arms across his chest.

"The battle at the Breach is in full force. Over half of the world's military force is there, holding their own against the swarms of Jahari coming up."

"Incredible," Grimsley gasped. He had heard only whispers and pieces of information about the Breach as he overheard discussions between Goulet and Sigmeund.

"There are reports of Marian himself descending, going straight down into the pit itself," Sigmeund continued. He had moved the group out of the library, not wanting eavesdroppers taking part in the conversation.

"He's going to try and kill the mind." Goulet rubbed at his chin thoughtfully and he smiled, a different kind of smile from the thoughtful, warm one he usually gave out to Grimsley. This one held more pure joy in it, more personal excitement.

"Well, we always theorized it would launch the biggest attacks closest to its location so it could exert the most control," Sigmeund said, leaning back against the outer wall of the library. A few people went by, turning to head into the entrance to the building. Sigmeund watched them carefully before he spoke again. "This makes sense based on our calculations."

"So everything is in place then?" Goulet asked. Sigmeund nodded. "Then Roth knows what to do next?" Another nod, this time with a smile attached.

"What?" Grimsley cut in. "What's going on? What's happening?"

Goulet turned and began to wander off into the crowded street of Beijing, leaving Sigmeund behind to explain everything. Sigmeund pulled himself from the wall, placing his hand on Grimsley's shoulder and pausing as he passed by him. "Project Ethos has begun."