Chapter 10: A Higher Perspective
The Edict of Sanctuary had transformed the dawn. The usual frantic stirrings of the tribe were replaced by a calm, purposeful rhythm. People moved with a quiet confidence, their sleep uninterrupted by the distant shrieks and roars that still echoed from the jungle beyond the walls. The air inside Vance Haven felt lighter, easier to breathe.
Alistair stood in the center of the settlement, his feet firmly planted on the stone foundation. He could feel the Edict as a gentle, humming field, a bubble of tranquil order in the chaotic wilds. It was his first true law, and it was working.
He pulled up the Tier-2 construction menu. The [WATCHTOWER] blueprint glowed, promising a strategic advantage he desperately needed. He selected it.
CONSTRUCTION: BASIC WATCHTOWER.
MATERIALS REQUIRED: 150 UNITS OF WOOD, 50 UNITS OF STONE.
ADMINISTRATOR AUTHORITY REQUIRED: 10%.
POWER POOL COST FOR INSTANT CONSTRUCTION: 25.
He had the authority. He had the materials, or at least, he had the credits to buy them in an instant. But the Power Pool cost gave him pause. It was a quarter of his total capacity. The ignition in the cavern had nearly drained him, a stark lesson in his limits. Using his power recklessly was a quick path to vulnerability.
He looked at Thora, who was observing him, waiting for his direction. He could summon the tower from nothing, another miracle to solidify his divinity. Or, he could lead.
"Thora," he said, getting her attention. He pointed to the northwest corner of the palisade, then raised his hand high above his head, miming someone looking out into the distance. He then pointed at the wood and stone piled for future use, and finally at her and the other tribespeople.
Her eyes lit with understanding. He was not giving a command for a miracle; he was giving a command for a project. She nodded, a flicker of what looked like approval in her gaze, and began calling out orders.
The tribe set to work with a will. The Wood Shapers, Kael and Roric among them, began their work on the larger logs, shaping them into straight, sturdy beams under Alistair's guidance. Others, under Thora's direction, began hauling the larger river stones to the base of the chosen corner.
Alistair worked with them. He showed them how to interlock the wooden beams for maximum stability, how to create a ladder using notches and pegs. He didn't use his power, save for one thing: his Admin sight. He scanned their work, his vision highlighting stress points and structural weaknesses in soft red, allowing him to guide their adjustments before a beam was set incorrectly.
It was slow. It was laborious. Sweat stung his eyes and his muscles burned. But with every beam that was set, every stone that was fitted into the foundation, he felt a different kind of power growing—not the explosive energy of the Core, but the steady, resilient strength of a community building together.
By the time the smaller red sun was at its zenith, the skeleton of the watchtower stood against the sky, a rugged scaffold of wood and stone rising five meters above the palisade wall.
Alistair called a halt. The heavy lifting was done. Now, it was his turn.
He placed a hand on the structure. The basic form was there, but it was rough, unstable. It needed the system's touch to become a finished, fortified building.
CONSTRUCTION: BASIC WATCHTOWER. PRIMITIVE FRAME DETECTED.
POWER POOL COST FOR COMPLETION: 10.
The cost was less than half. Their labor had meaning. It had value. It had saved his precious power.
He paid the cost.
The blue light swarmed over the scaffold, smoothing rough edges, reinforcing joints, weaving the stone and wood into a seamless, solid whole. A crenellated platform appeared at the top, shielded on three sides, with a clear view over the wall and into the jungle canopy. A sturdy trapdoor led down to the ground.
CONSTRUCTION COMPLETE: BASIC WATCHTOWER.
VANCE HAVEN DEFENSIVE RATING: MINIMAL -> LOW.
A wave of satisfaction, distinct from the surge of Admin power, washed over him. He had done it. They had done it.
"Kael," Alistair said, pointing to the young, sharp-eyed tribesman. He then pointed up the watchtower.
Kael understood. He scrambled up the notched ladder with the ease of a born climber and emerged onto the platform. He stood there for a moment, his hand shielding his eyes, and then he froze. His body went rigid. He turned and looked down at Alistair, his face a mask of urgent alarm. He pointed east, jabbing his finger repeatedly toward the jungle, then mimed a large group moving.
The satisfaction in Alistair's chest evaporated, replaced by a cold knot of dread.
The tower had just paid for itself.
He looked at Thora. Her face was grim. She had seen Kael's signals.
The sanctuary had been established. The higher perspective had been gained. And the first thing it had seen was trouble.