I. The Price of Permanence and The Great Deception
The silence that followed the Black Flock Gambit in Lithos was thick, cold, and absolute—the cessation of violence giving way to the grinding necessity of order. Corvin Nyx, twenty-three and clad in the cold armor of his will, surveyed the small, rough settlement. The immediate problem was time.
Obel Harth (42, Mason), his hands calloused from decades of honest labor, delivered the crushing truth. The First Satellite Tower Keep—the pyramidal base and the thick outer walls Corvin demanded for stability—would require at least four to five years of continuous labor with only six men. Corvin, fighting the volatile, unmanaged power of the Primal Obsidian Core within him, could not wait five years for the anchor of the Void Stone. His chaotic strength would consume him long before then.
The countermeasure was swift and surgical: deception. The only way to survive was to convince the distant Trazarch Trade Union that their affairs in Lithos were proceeding smoothly. Corvin organized his assets: Obel Harth and the five construction laborers were assigned to the walls. Veridian Vex (23, Mercenary) and the remaining Raven Legion recruits were assigned to security and logistics.
Corvin initiated the Tax and Material Stratagem. If taxes and material quotas were met, the Union's bureaucracy would assume the new mercenary company was simply effective. Veridian Vex, relying on his field-tested knowledge of Union corruption, established the façade: training trusted villagers as Couriers of Compliance for the high-risk, 40-mile round trip to the nearest market town. They carried just enough coin and stone to satisfy the ledger, maintaining the fiction that Lithos was operational but struggling. The cost was high; every piece of coin sent out was a piece of the tower foundation sold to the lie.
II. The Architect and The Apprenticeship of Fire
The work in Lithos was relentless, the hammer-strokes on the rough stone setting the rhythm of the new settlement. Obel Harth was the physical anchor of the operation. Corvin spent hours silently observing the mason's labor, realizing Obel's discipline was not just skill; it was a pure form of applied order.
Obel's hands worked with terrifying precision, shaping the rough stone and iron bands for the Outer Defensive Walls. Corvin watched the meticulous measurement of angles, the perfect geometric cutting, and the precise, tight interlocking of the heavy material. Corvin knew this structural discipline was the physical blueprint he required. The Obsidian essence he commanded was chaotic and naturally destructive; to house it, the container had to be perfect. Any minute flaw in Obel's masonry would be magnified by Corvin's power into a catastrophic, self-destructive failure. Obel's meticulous hands were building the structural integrity that would contain the magic.
Simultaneously, Corvin began the agonizing preparation for the infusion. He used salvaged, rough quarry stone and scrap metal for preliminary practice. He would channel small, controlled bursts of power from his Shadow Heart into the base materials. The stone would scream, the iron would warp, and the Obsidian essence would either dissipate uselessly or flare violently, leaving the material laced with toxic, unstable fractures. The pain was immense, but Corvin learned through failure: he had to fight the core, chaotic nature of his power, forcing the crystalline essence to adhere to a pattern of human-made geometry.
III. The Crucible of Control
Corvin's internal war raged hardest during his training with Veridian Vex. The former mercenary taught Corvin basic fighting drills—stances, footwork, and techniques with a practice blade—unaware he was sparring with a walking catastrophe.
Corvin fought with unmeasured strength. He moved with the raw, terrifying speed of his new body, relying on his cold intellect to avoid killing his partner. Every drill was a terrifying exercise in differential calculus. Corvin had to constantly fight his own reflexes, calculating the force needed to block a blow versus the force required to crush the wooden shield into dust, or worse, to snap Veridian's limbs. He focused on the moment of impact, forcing his mind to apply precisely 2% of his total power when 100% was his natural response.
One afternoon, in a simple disarming drill, Corvin miscalculated a block. The practice blade in Veridian's hand did not just break; it exploded into splinters, scattering wood dust across the courtyard. Veridian stared, his professional discipline momentarily shattered by the physical impossibility of the force.
Corvin offered no apology, only cold, technical analysis. "I tried to control my strength and failed. My output far exceeded what I attempted to release." He was learning control—the essential skill for stabilizing his power—through terrifying, continuous near-fatal errors. Veridian, though deeply unnerved, recognized the necessary discipline in the man's eyes and pushed the drill harder, becoming Corvin's unwitting, indispensable instrument of control.
IV. The Intelligence Network and The Growing Pressure
While Corvin wrestled with his power, Veridian established the security and political infrastructure. Recruits were organized into disciplined shifts, and the perimeter was secured. Veridian directed the Lithos Chief to compile crucial intelligence maps, charting the local waterways, the vulnerability of the trade routes, and the political landscape of neighboring Village Chiefs.
Corvin realized the immediate limit of their resources. The handful of villagers and the minimal gains from the initial Black Flock Gambit were not enough to sustain the accelerated timeline. The deception, though essential, was bleeding their coffers dry.
Corvin initiated the final command: proactive expansion. He needed to strike the Union where it was vulnerable to acquire both material wealth and much a needed labor force.
Corvin tasked the Lithos Chief with the most vital and dangerous mission: covert political recruitment. The Chief would visit neighboring Village Chiefs, carrying the undeniable truth: the recounting of the shared horror, the pervasive abuse, the fate of those who can't pay their debt or taxes, and the resulting violation of the family unit. The Chief's message was simple: The Union is weak and its corruption will consume you. I offer unassailable protection and purpose under the supreme order of the Raven Lord.
The currency was no longer coin; it was absolute security. Corvin knew that trading his power for masons, ironworkers, and loyal soldiers was the only path to reducing the five-year construction timeline to months. The time for the next proactive strike, the Road Ambush, was fast approaching. The fate of the future Imperium now hinged on the courage of one Chief, the tactical mind of one mercenary, and the cold, modulated strength of its founder.