The gear arrived the following morning through Divan's network.
The delivery was clean and forgettable. A courier dropped a sealed pack at the front desk, exchanged a few routine words, and left before anyone had reason to remember his face.
Arie brought it upstairs.
Everyone was already in the common room. Demi sat with her notebook open, pen resting but not moving. Rosh leaned forward in his chair, not touching his food. Keisha stood near the window, watching the street but clearly aware of everything happening behind her.
Arie set the pack on the table and opened it without any buildup or explanation.
The contents were enough.
Reinforced combat wear, upgraded weapon components, enhancement materials that would immediately push their capability forward.
Not something a group gathered in a few days.
He sorted it methodically and divided it into 4 portions. Rosh's was first.
No one reached for anything.
The silence stretched, heavy in a way that came from unfinished conversations rather than the absence of them.
Rosh picked up one of the pieces, turning it slowly in his hand before setting it back down.
"What makes this difficult isn't the value," he said finally, his voice steady but deliberate. "Anyone can see what this does for us. We'd be idiots to pretend this doesn't push us forward faster than anything we've been doing."
He paused briefly, then continued.
"What makes it difficult is the way you treat it like it doesn't come with anything attached to it. You went out there, found people doing exactly what we're doing, and came back with everything they had like it was just another part of the process and when you talk about it, there's no weight behind it at all. No hesitation, no second thought, nothing that suggests this was even a decision you struggled with."
His eyes lifted to meet Arie's.
"I understand the logic. I really do. What I don't understand is how you got to a place where that's enough."
Arie leaned back slightly, his expression unchanged.
"It wasn't something I struggled with," he said. "That part is exactly what it looks like. I knew what I was doing before I stepped into that zone, and I knew what it would look like when I came back."
He let that sit for a moment before continuing.
"You're asking why there's no hesitation, like hesitation is supposed to be part of the process. It is—for most people. It isn't for me. The question I'm working with is whether something achieves the result I need. If it does, then I use it."
His gaze stayed steady.
"And right now, this achieves results we can't get any other way. It accelerates us, closes gaps we don't have time to leave open, and puts us closer to a point we need to reach before something else catches up to us."
Rosh didn't interrupt.
When he spoke again, his tone had shifted slightly—less questioning, more certain.
"So that's it," he said. "If it works, you do it. Doesn't matter who's on the other side of it, as long as it gets you where you need to be."
Arie didn't soften it.
"Yes."
Rosh nodded slowly.
"I figured as much. I just needed to hear it clearly." He glanced at the gear again before continuing. "I'm not okay with it. That hasn't changed. But I'm also not blind to what's sitting on this table. We're stronger because of this, whether I like how it happened or not."
He exhaled quietly.
"I understand what you're doing and I don't like it at the same time."
He picked up his gauntlets, turning them once in his hands.
"There's one thing I need to be sure about," he added. "If you can look at other groups and reduce them to obstacles, I need to know where we stand in that same thinking."
Arie met his gaze.
"You're not obstacles."
Rosh frowned slightly. "That's not something I can just take at face value."
"It's not meant to be reassuring," Arie said. "It's meant to be accurate. Everything I'm doing is to make sure this group reaches a point where what's coming doesn't end us before we understand it."
That didn't resolve the tension.
But it gave it shape.
Rosh nodded once.
"I don't like it," he said again, quieter this time. "I probably won't like it tomorrow either. But I understand enough to stay."
He slipped his gauntlets on.
"Just don't make this something I can't stand next to."
He turned and walked back inside.
Arie remained where he was for a moment, the quiet settling again.
The next morning, he went out to hunt two groups.
The first was in the northern zone.
Four members, well-coordinated and disciplined. They moved efficiently, without making much mistakes. They were, however, extremely confused as to why this was happening. That lead to panic which eased Arie's job. It took eight minutes for Arie to take care of them.
The second group was much harder.
Five members, one interfering with spatial manipulation enough to disrupt his usual control. He adjusted, staying closer, relying more on Genshi, letting the fight stay physical where his power wasn't reliable.
They adapted quickly and one of them even managed to land a clean strike across his shoulder during that window.
Under different circumstances, it would have mattered more.
When it was over, he reset the scene, aligning everything with the story the terrain would naturally support. He collected what he needed and began the walk back.
The ache in his shoulder registered.
He didn't slow down.
By the time he reached the inn, the light was fading.
Demi was at her table.
Keisha stood near the window.
Both looked at him. Neither spoke.
He went upstairs, dealt with the injury, and came back down.
Another package waited.
He brought it up and opened it the same way.
This time, no one moved at all.
"There's one more delivery," he said. "After that, we move to Trial Three."
Keisha turned from the window, her expression steadier now.
"How many groups?" she asked quietly. "The ones you've gone after."
Arie held her gaze.
"Enough to make a difference."
She studied him for a moment, then nodded slightly and looked away.
Demi's pen moved across the page.
Arie finished sorting the gear and left it on the table.
Tomorrow would be the last of it.
After that—
Trial Three.
And everything that followed.