Cormac's assigned position had proved to be both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, it was somewhat refreshing to return to the basics with a new forge. Much of his equipment had been left behind in Mór Brionnú as it would have been much too complicated and brought too much attention to the foreign blacksmith. Not that he didn't have plenty of attention already. Setting up his business overnight thanks to a generous donation from Faetalis, selling his services at a noticeably lower price than the only other blacksmith shop in the village to entice his rival's loyal customers, the strange accent that he never elaborated on the origin of, and the amazing quality work he was capable of producing on his own made him the talk of the town on their own. Having so much work to do helped the giant feel comfortable in this new place.

The downside though was how many distractions there were. So many people wanted to talk to him, learn more about him, ask the same questions over and over again. It was maddening. And he couldn't just shoo them off since Faetalis had specifically requested he get to know the people here and gain their trust.

Speaking of distractions, here came one now. Looking up from his anvil, Cormac could hear the mutterings of a very pissed off man stomping his way over. He knew why Ignaz was coming. Mr. Woolworth had managed to rip hinges off his door while moving furniture the day before, and Ignaz had offered replacements at a completely reasonable price. So Cormac offered to replace them at cost. A capitalist would call the giant a clever businessman, building up his clientele and taking losses now to ensure high profits in the future. The real reason was to relieve some boredom.

Cormac began to grumble to himself, not looking to get into an argument with his fellow blacksmith. Lucky for him, an excuse to leave before confronting Ignaz would present itself as the head overseer in all of Infactorium would send out an emergency summons that he couldn't ignore. Putting down his hammer and tongs, Cormac would do his best to make his way to the gate Faetalis had left him to use for fast travel back home without being followed. A difficult task given the man's large size, but one couldn't fault him for trying.

With the initial recovery period over, Infactorium was buzzing with activity, and no place 'buzzed' more that Hivehill. The denizens of Hivehill were, after all, responsible for tunnels in which Infactorium's new mining operation took place. Faetalis' wrath upon returning from her scouting mission had not passed unnoticed, and without questioning her, Gammaton quietly shifted Hivehill's unit production from labor to military. It may have been an unnecessary, perhaps even incorrect, prediction, but Gammaton was a decorated general, and had a pretty accurate hunch when her leaders wanted to mobilize.

So it came as no surprise that about a week later, an emergency meeting was called. In her current, larval state, Gammaton picked her way through the halls like a spider until she arrived at the meeting room. Guessing the purpose of the meeting, Gammaton had brought her two special items: her bludgeon, which looked like a giant tuning fork, and her feathered fan, to show that she was ready. "What would you have of me, Lady Faetalis?" Gammaton greeted, bowing as much as her grub-like body would allow.

“Be seated, all of you,” Faetalis started, as she took her seat at her desk, and motioned to the sofas for company, “There’s much to discuss,” Faetalis looked sternly ahead, “The first matter is that of the Anzelgard - Scapegoat of the Nyll Empire. Due to the sudden decrease of the bauxite ore, they’ve sent an envoy to do an inspection. As such, we’re going to need to come to a decision: shall we annex Anzelgard and bring her into our protection and possession, or shall we allow Anzelgard to be damned and crushed under the booted heel of her queen’s father?”

“Either way, we shall be forced to take arms against the Nyll Empire, and make this place a proper stronghold,” Faetalis says, “To that effort, I’ve formed a blueprint,” she extended her hand, and summoned blueprints to each of her Overseers, and spread out her own, “which will bring you to a new position with new responsibilities, and grander freedoms that you currently possess.”

Faetalis stood up, “Infinifactorium. In the hallowed halls of Infactorium, you are Overseers of your Super Being’s Factory. Now, you shall become Supervisors of your own Factory; these two Floors under your direct command and desires. However, you will have these objectives above all else...”

Stepping from behind the desk, Faetalis removed the barrier that separated her “Overseers” from her “Super Being”. As “Supervisors”, she wanted to display that they stood on even ground in the room with her, as she explained to them how the floors were to be arranged, how they were to support each other in the ascending path, and how they were to, above all else, do their level best, and never fear failure.

Once it was all said and done, Faetalis would reach into her chest, and remove their elevator keys from her core. “These are Soulbound Keys. Artifacts, handcrafted by me, personally,” she says, “To take them into your possession shall link your soul and mine. If I bleed, you shall know. If you bleed, I shall know. Here, we are equals.”

Faetalis extended her right hand, and the five keys fell on chains that were attached to her fingertips. “Accept them, for I believe you are worthy of them.”

It took Levia no time to claim a seat as her own, on-edge after stumbling upon Faetalis' elevator down below. And, it seemed that her fears were somewhat warranted as Faetalis outright declared a plan to go to war with the Nyll Empire, revealing themselves in full to the humans of this world. And...that what Levia had seen was likely the Infinifactorium that Faetalis was speaking of.

As Faetalis stepped forward and reached into her chest, she would produce five keys, each attached to one of her fingers. And...she declared that she believed they were worthy. That they were equals. Anyone looking at Levia could see that at those words, the acknowledgement of each of them as being worthy of Faetalis' very soul...they had made the chimera shiver. Whether it was from pride at being acknowledged or fear at this display of humility from a being not unlike a God to them one couldn't tell...but Levia would move first to seize her key. The key that was attached to the thumb of Faetalis would be gently removed by Levia's hands. Cradling the key in the palms of her hands, Levia would hold it to her chest and look Faetalis in the eyes. "...We will not fail you, Lady Faetalis. I promise."

After speaking Levia would return to her seat and stare fondly at the key in her hands, amazed that something so small and fragile looking wasn't crumbling to dust in her hands from a mere touch. Silently, Levia was already making plans for her new facility. Without the limits of health and safety standards in place, one could assume it would be the least hospitable place to normal life one could imagine.

And it would also let her slimes have a place to stretch their masses and eat some fresh human meat. If it came to that, after all. She wasn't the first floor, so anyone that got to her would have to be strong enough to defeat both Gammaton and Tungsten...which would probably mean they were more than capable of defeating her. A harrowing thought, that.

Taking a seat alongside the other overseers, Tungsten listened to Faetalis' decree. It... Surprised him. Excited him. But it also made him feel something he's never felt before. As a Cyber Skeleton, emotions are a somewhat foreign concept to him. Strange considering his musical abilities are all about stirring up emotions, but he himself has not felt anything that was not simply programmed into him. And thus those emotions are little more than social indicators that he must act upon based off stratagems and probability. But this emotion he felt right now... He had no response to.

It was not the war against the Nyll Empire that made Tungsten feel this way. He frankly cared very little towards them. While he hopes to facilitate some sort of short war that ultimately ends with peace, Tungsten was also fully prepared to wipe out every single person in that empire if that is what Faetalis commands him to. And doing so would not even trigger any more of an emotional response than if he had to kill one. Really the only thing that concerned him was sending a few more of his agents into the Empire in order to gather more information. No, there was a different thing that worried Tungsten. As Faetalis produced the Soulbound Keys his body tensed. "Thank you, Creator Faetalis. I will be worthy."

After taking his key Tungsten had already sent a command through Io to his Cyber Skeletons to begin construction. For now production of more BIGS and the Excavator Big would have to halt, as those resources will now need to be spent fortifying the floors he now Supervises. He intends to make his floors killing zones. A place where no hope passes through, only allies of the Infactorium. Because once in his existence, Tungsten... Tungesten felt a dark emotion. The feeling of sorrow and dread. Looking down at the key Tungsten closed his hand tightly. If he was capable of tears he would have shed a single droplet.

Due to the attunement of these Soul Bound keys, Faetalis would no doubt be able to feel Tungsten's pain. Maybe even his thoughts. "Long have I awaited for your return, my creator... AlphaQ. When will you return to us? Why have I heard nothing from you, after all this time? Only the Creators would know and none will speak. Creator Faetalis is the only one with us but... Surely, you will return. That is my wish. My desire. But this key... This Authority... This is yours. This was your duty. For me to take up your mantle would mean that... You will not return. Why. Where did you go? Why did you forsake me? What must I do to bring you back?" The Darksteel Colossus sat so absolutely skill, one could mistake him as merely a statue. Whether or not Faetalis knew how Tungsten felt or if she was prepared to tell him, she would know the truth. The truth that no one, not Tungsten, nor any other creator knew.

AlphaQ had died. The mortal player was killed in a car accident. In reality, AlphaQ was but a young woman working a harrowing office job, and one her way home she was struck by a drunk driver. Her insurance wasn't able to cover the cost of the surgery needed to save her life. With what little life she had left, she had told her family not to saddle themselves with the debt of saving her life. It was at the same time she told Faetalis about her fate. She passed shortly after, having never had a chance to try and settle her accounts with the rest of the guild or Tungsten. The whole time, Tungsten simply waited for her. She told him she would return and that he simply needed to continue his duty until her return. When she comes back she'll start working on what she left off on. But now she'll never return, and Tungsten must continue where she left off. This terrified him.

But Tungsten would not tell Faetalis his thoughts. That was not a burden he would share. Even if he knew the truth, even if he had his suspicion, the only thing that keeps him going is that false hope and the duty he was given. Faetalis has given him job and this will give him purpose. The hope of his creator's return is what drives him to live. But the emotions he felt, that is what is going to guide his hand as he designs these floors. His love, his hate, and all of his sorrow, channeled into the creation of these two floors. He will create a wall of guns that will destroy any enemy that arrives, and the remains of their blasted corpses will be the only refuge for any invader. Yes, this is what Tungsten felt. This was the only way Tungsten could cope.

"Our enemies will be grease for the machine."

Once everyone arrived, the meeting could begin in earnest, and though she managed to keep herself quiet, Mae couldn't help but be a little excited. Any meeting with Lady Faetalis or the other supreme beings was naturally of utmost importance by default, but those occasions that called for the presence of every Infactorium Overseer at once were truly a cut above. Since the guild's arrival in these unknown lands a couple such gatherings had come and gone, but still they never lost their luster, at least for Mae. While her eccentric but endearing family of Maneaters meant that she never felt lonesome, she seldom had occasion to visit -or even hear from- the other factories beyond what little she could glean from the idle chatter of those who came and went in the Gorging Trough. That meant being around her peers -not to mention her betters- always felt special. And yet, today the headless horror had a certain, inexplicable feeling that this meeting would be more extraordinary still.

As such, when Faetlis got started, the immense chef took the biggest seat that the room had to offer and listened at rapt attention, her arms rested atop her belly with her hands clasped. Her boss's first order of business was to disseminate some big news, namely that big things were going to start happening very soon, in one way or another. By sheer bad luck, the sudden introduction of the guild to this particular mountaintop had led to a disruption in the supply of a vital local resource, without which the nearby vassal kingdom would quickly incur the wrath of its imperial overseer. The whole thing went a bit above Mae's pay grade as a humble chef, but it sounded like no matter what Faetalis chose, conflict would be inevitable. Like the true professional she was, however, the supreme one already had plans in the works, and wasted no time presenting them.

A mere moment later, without neither an excess of preamble nor exposition, Mae found herself endowed with a heaping portion of extra responsibility. Supervisor? Floors? My command?! If Mae had a forehead she might have drawn the back of her head across it, or nervously scratch her neck, but with no such facilities she could do little more than wring her hands as the details poured in. It was a lot to take in, but a kitchen expert like Mae could boil the blueprint down to its essential components. Right now Infactorium existed as a cluster of factories atop the mountain, but now the core of the mountain itself would be hollowed out and developed into a series of floors, each one being the essence of an existing factory writ large. But this was more than just the chance for a bigger workplace. This time she wouldn't be just the one brought in to operate the facility that Lord Sugi the Hammer designed; she would be the designer, in charge of the place from top to bottom, bearing both the power to make decisions and the weight of delivering results. Having creative control over a cake was one thing, but a factory? She was just one monster!

But no. Though inner conflict roiled her guts like a bad stew, she swallowed her fears and with a ginger hand accepted her key. As much as she needed him, Sugi wasn't here right now. Instead, Faetalis stood before her, and placed in Mae her wholehearted trust. She hadn't just bestowed upon Mae the honor of defending the guild, but also made her the penultimate defender, with the new Gorging Trough to be situated directly below her own eminent Domain. Not the ravenous swarms of Gammaton, not the machined might of Tungsten, not the inexorable breaker Levia, not even the venerable forgemaster Cormac...her. A morbidly obese monstrosity without a single kill to her name. She would be the last line of defense, the one in whom Faetalis trusted to put down whatever threat all the others could not. It was an incredible responsibility, and though it made Mae a little afraid, it also made her incredibly proud. Her fist closed around the tiny key in her hand, and she beat it against her clavicle. "You got it, ma'am! We won't let ya down, I swear it!"

As Faetalis brought up the situation in Anzelgard, Cormac began stroking his chin in thought. Looking at things practically, annexing them or leaving them to their own devices had their benefits and downsides. On one hand, bringing them under their protection would give them more resources to work with as well as more soldiers. Though with Tungsten's Cyber Skeletons, one could make the argument that they already a vastly superior source of foot soldiers, the giant felt that a diverse army could only be beneficial as long as they had the resources to support it. However, while conflict with Nyll was inevitable, taking Anzelgard was sure to bring war upon them much sooner. Sacrificing Anzelgard could give them valuable time to prepare. Looking at it practically was a tough decision.

However, Cormac was not some compassionless machine (no offense to the automatons and androids of Infactorium). He was a giant and one that still had a heart. If they could save Anzelgard from destruction, he would plead their case to the other Overseers as best as he could.

Before Faetalis would begin listening to their thoughts on the matter though, she would announce to them the intention to grant them even more responsibilities. It was a great distinction, the giant couldn't argue with that, as he said, "I'm honored, lass," already switching to referring to his former supervisor informally to better grow used to the change in position. However, ever the crotchety old geezer, he couldn't help but still have some complaints. Would becoming a supervisor further pull him away from his metalworking? Most definitely. For now though, the great reward for his service outweighed his preference for isolationism, and he made no verbal remarks. His large hand would wrap around the key as he took it from Faetalis, unintentionally testing its durability despite his best attempts to be gentle with it.

Despite Faetalis gesturing for the overseers to sit, Gammaton remained standing at attention, ever the stalwart general, despite her current, grubby, hunched frame. However, at Faetalis' mention of the Nyll Empire and its relationship with Anzelgard, Gammaton had to fight back the almost vomit-like surfacing of Szilard Wentham's bileful memories. Gammaton waited for Faetalis to finish, and humbly received the key she gifted. Gammaton pondered the weight of the responsibility that had been given to her. She wholeheartedly accepted her position as the first line of defense, but the title of 'supervisor' was disconcerting, yet exciting. Gammaton had no illusions that GrillBears would be returning anytime soon, if ever, yet his mantra of experimentation and evolution stuck with Gammaton. Perhaps this was his goal, and his absence was part of the formula. Gammaton needed to evolve, and the first step would be to fill his position. This wasn't just a promotion, this was apotheosis.

"Thank you, My Lady," Gammaton said solemnly, then offered pensively, trying not to let the emotions of a stranger cloud her judgment, "As to your point on Anzelgard, I do not know what there is to gain from her annexation. We would perhaps increase our territorial claim, but gain little else. Its royalty is...weak, and we are already in possession of the primary strategic resource of the region. Were we to turn Anzelgard's population towards labor, I assess that they will be more burden than benefit. It would be more efficient to use them as feed to raise more ants. However, this is just my logistical perspective. Perhaps there are benefits to taking Anzelgard that I have not considered. I suppose denying Nyll forces a garrisoned position so close to Infinifactorium is something to take into account."

Gammaton felt a strange rush. Though she was a commander, she felt that she had primarily taken orders in the past instead of issuing them. It was exhilarating to be offering a strategic opinion that could have a lasting effect on the guild as a whole, to share her thoughts for consideration with Faetalis as equals.

Faetalis was glad to see everyone receive their key and promotion with their own humble statement. They still held her in reverence and respected her as their leader, but were more than willing to make the attempt to stand beside her as equals. It was in their nature to serve; born into subservience with nothing to do, but answer to the calls of a higher authority.

Faetalis knew this, but she would see their shackles broken, and those binding chains undone, here and now.

As each newly appointed Supervisor accepted their Soulbound Key, and their gifted floors, Faetalis would return to her seat, and take stock of them, as Gammaton spoke her opinion on the matter of Anzelgard, and whether it should be annexed into the care of Infactorium as a vassal kingdom or sacrificed as a pawn for a greater play in this chess game they’d stumbled upon.

However, her opinion was one of five.

Faetalis would leave herself to take care of the execution of events, and exclude herself from the decision-making process - this would be her first test of their individuality and cooperation. Infactorium operated with a Democratic Majority Vote between the Raid Council, once consisting of her closest friends and founding members, even though the Guild Hall, itself, recognized only Faetalis as its Monarchical ruler.

Whether they realized it or not, her remaining Overseers had become the new Raid Council.

“These are true statements, both of them, and valid opinions,” Faetalis says, folding her hands beneath her chin - the /ikarisit emote that came with pre-ordering the expansion she’d thrived in. “As it stands, Anzelgard is a trivial piece land generating naught but chattel. Fodder. Feed. Human. Beast. Flora. Either way, it all serves an inevitable purpose and gain for Infactorium, as you said. However, as you’ve admitted, as well, Gammaton, you do not fully comprehend the vassal kingdom's complete and potential uses, either.”

Faetalis turned her eyes to Cormac, “Cormac has been living among them. A blacksmith amongst the ranks of a kingdom valued only for its profession and possession of a, once, rich bauxite ore mine, which Tungsten has been so kind to strip bare and process for us.” Her eyes drifted to the Supervisors in question, “Thusly, there are notions and knowledge that differ in their minds of this,” Faetalis looked to Mae, “And, of course, there is our dutiful Head Cheftress, Mae, whom has taken to room and board one of Anzelgard’s discarded own, and learned much from her life and experiences.”

“Do not take me for patronization nor condemnation, Gammaton. I speak thusly out of respect, because, as of today...” Faetalis stood, and set her hands flat upon her desk, “Gammaton. Tungsten Jazz. Levia Vishap. Cormac McIntosh. Canology Mae,” she spoke their names in turn of their floors, “Each of you represents the empty seat of your Creator, your Supreme Being: GrillBears. AlphaQ. NotEvenHere. B;oodAndGut93. Sugi the Hammer.”

Faetalis’s voice drew firm, serious to a razor’s edge. “Each of you stands, no longer subservient to the wishes of your Creators, but the actions of Infinifactorium's Raid Council.”

“Gammaton has opened the floor quite well. This matter of Anzelgard, shall we annex it or destroy it, is the subject of this meeting,” Faetalis says. “Each of you will speak your opinions on the matter, levy your personal judgement, and we shall put it to a Majority Vote once all have spoken.”

Faetalis took her seat, “Regardless of the decision reached by this Raid Council, I will see it through, as your Leader.”

There was an unmistakable, familiar shift in her voice - tone and pitch, enunciation as well - yet, no-one could really place it.

“The floor is yours, Raid Council. Let’s begin.” Faetalis says, folding her hands in focus.

And, it was gone - just like that.

Levia was given pause on the current situation. And...given more pause to think she was replacing her creator's position. It was a lot to process...and for her, it felt unearned. What had she really done to deserve his position? What work had she done save for destruction that, even she knew, anyone could have gone and done themselves?

Clearing her throat, Levia would straighten up, with her draconic arms on her hips and one of her human hands resting on the table. "Um...I'm really not used to being in charge of much of anything but breaking things, so...that's what my suggestion is going to be. I think that despite the undertaking it would be, disposing of Anzelgard makes the most sense. Even if we take it by force and leave them alive, humans are tough and will rise up again and again. And like Gammaton said, they're not good for hard work. The only thing they're good for is their numbers, and Gammaton can outdo that with enough resources."

After giving her speech, Levia would scratch the back of her head. "Planning things like this isn't really my strong suit but...even I know that wiping them out will make everyone else in the area want to attack us. ...But, no one's ever taken this place before, and with Lady Faetalis' renovations, no one ever will!" While NotEvenHere was a man that focused on pushing esoteric monster breeding and taming to its limits, Levia inherited little from her creator, probably due to the complex process to create her leading to burnout. This wasn't living up to his legacy...but then again, his legacy would likely have been to use base, stronger humans as breeding stock to intermix human-specific class levels with monstrous racial levels to create hybrids.

Faetalis would probably not have preferred the equivalent of turning the kingdom into one of those 18+ games on the black market of dubious moral content.

Struggling to come up with more to say, Levia would raise one of her draconic hands in sync with the corresponding human hand, a finger raised on each as she said: "I could do fly-by poisonous attacks on their capital to kill their leadership...or uh...draw their attention by thinking a Dragon is coming from a neighboring country?" she was really stretching herself thin with ideas, before the chimeric dragon would plop take a seat with her tail as a support, hoping someone had a better idea. Or at least, someone to confirm her idea was good.

As the subject of Anzelgard's fate continued to spark deliberation among her leader-turned-compatriot and her Overseer compatriots, the fact that Canology Mae of the Gorging Trough had been elevated to a lofty position among them still didn't get any easier to believe. Like the diver who ascended from the watery deep too quickly, Mae felt like she had decompression sickness. The whole thing happened so fast, fast enough to leave her way in over her head--metaphorically, of course. What could a humble chef, ignorant of the world beyond the walls of her oft-forgotten and only situationally useful corner of the guild, possibly offer a council of war whose arbitration could define centuries of history to come? How could such a grotesque, low-down creature possibly fill the seat of her lord Sugi the Hammer, at least in a metaphoric sense, when all she really knew of her creator was what he liked best to eat?

Yet to fall prey to such thinking was self-indulgent, and Mae indulged herself enough in the Gorging Trough. Had she not just accepted the responsibility of playing a greater role in Infactorium? That she was here meant that Lady Faetalis of the Supreme Beings trusted in her faculties and judgment, even if Mae herself doubted her own qualifications. That meant that the headless horror shouldn't put herself through the wringer with all sorts of sophistry and logic, trying to find and then justify the right answer; she'd been inducted into this illustrious Raid Council to offer her answer, whatever that might be. She needed only the courage to give it.

That was, naturally, easier said than done. To someone without the benefit of particular experience or perspective, Gammaton and Levia's answers both seemed totally and completely sound. Mae could find no fault in them, try as she might. And yet she did try, for while they made sense, their proposed plan of action left a bad taste in Mae's mouth. As the Queen of Breakage wound down, the headless chef realized that must mean her own opinion ran contrary. That was kind of intimidating in and of itself, since while Mae didn't think for one second that disagreement would result in punishment, she didn't want to kick off her fellowship with her amazing compatriots by being stupid. Still, if she was going to say anything, it would have to be now. If one or more of those yet to speak chimed in supporting the consensus so far, it would only get harder to go against the flow. Canology Mae cleared her throat.

"Well," she began, rocking her immense weight back and forth on her heels ever so slightly. "I ain't one much for economics, or politics, or populations, or anythin' of the sort, really. All I can really say is what does and doesn't sit right with me. And maybe I'm just a big softie 'cause I've never gone out from the home front, but..." Mae rallied all the determination she could muster, and since a resolute crossing her arms was a physical impossibility, she put her hands on her doughy hips. "I reckon that goin' all scorched-earth with Anzelgard right from the get-go would end up bein' a waste. I mean, we could always fall back to it if other plans don't shake out, but there's gotta be more we can make of 'em alive than dead. If Cormac's been yuckin' it up among 'em, maybe we could take it a li’l further. If we somehow got Anzelgard to do our interactin' for us, we could stay hidden ‘til the time’s right." Mae shrugged. "I dunno. Not knowin' in general's kinda the problem. Even after grillin' Riny and that other poor sucker, we got next to nothin' on this world, really. Anythin' could be out there, maybe even other Supreme Bein's, so if we commit to puttin' all our cards on the table right now and tell everyone ‘hey, we’re here an’ we’re a threat!’ we might end up in some real hot water.”

She fell silent then, hoping that she hadn’t just spouted off a bunch of unsubstantiated nonsense, and that what her heart told her was what Faetalis wanted to hear. All she knew was that when she wanted to make a dish, she couldn’t make do with unknowns. She needed to know which ingredients to use and how much to add. No matter how skilled the chef or how quality the ingredients, one couldn’t just wing it and expect to brute force a success. Perhaps the bigger picture worked the same way.

For a while, after making his statement Tungsten was quiet. He was still in deep contemplation about his new duties and what it meant. rationalizing his fears, to either justify them, or deny them. Part of him was even starting to feel regret. AlphaQ created him with sentience to understand how the living think, so that he would be more effective against them. But those very same qualities made him feel these emotions that now hampered his thinking. Nothing about what he was thinking of was logical. All just emotions and synapses based off the experiences and expectations programmed into him.

Tungsten made a decision. These emotions were getting in his way. He needed to focus. Not on AlphaQ, not on his own sorrow, but on the mission: protect the Infactorium. Thanks to his robotic nature, he's able to alter his memories and thoughts in such ways that are beneficial to him. Ordinarily, he uses this ability to remove fear and charm effects on himself. Once he was able to reprogram his thinking to deal with his current mental later, he listens to Faetalis in regards to the village they've inadvertently annexed, Anzelgard. When it was his turn to speak Tungsten stood up.

"We do not now the capabilities of these lands, and provoking the ire of the unknown in our current state may prove to be our undoing. We should control Anzelgard from the shadows, to use it as a proxy into this new world so we may gain a better understanding without directly exposing ourselves to future enemies. To that end, knowing that Anzelgard is no longer valuable due to the lost of their bauxite mine, and the slaughter of those sent to investigate the disturbance, subsequently puts them in a precarious position. No doubt once they realize their livelihood here is no longer possible they may choose to migrate. Alternatively, if they already aware of the lost of the resources, they may seek the aid of their host country to investigate the matter. Either way, we must deflect their attention. To that end, I propose an idea."

Tungsten uses his magic to create a large illusion of a stone monstrosity. In Yggdrasil, this creature is known as an Ore elemental, a type of earth elemental consisting specifically of metal ores. A valuable resource Yggdrasil, but more importantly, a low-level BIG that Tungsten can create. These creatures are hardly a threat to the likes of the Infactorium, but they are a menace as they add ore from the earth into themselves. Perhaps the others would realize where Tungsten was going with this.

"We could engineer the lost of metal ores to the workings of a Ore Elemental. The death of those native warriors could also be attributed to the elemental, proving to be too much of a threat for the conventional forces they have sent. But one of our own warriors can easily do so. We use this opportunity to endear us to the village and whatever nation controls it. This allows us to have an agent within to feed us information and preform subterfuge tactics, possibly even obtain authority that will enable a more smooth transition of power to us without arising suspicion."

Hearing both Gammaton and Levia vote in favor of performing scorched Earth tactics upon Anzelgard would be upsetting for Cormac to hear, to say the least. He would almost have to physically bite his tongue to keep from speaking out of turn and announcing his disagreement with their opinions. In fact, if not for the support of Mae and Tungsten, he may very well have made his disapproval known in a rant which would quickly devolve into curses, leaving the giant appearing very unprofessional after his promotion. Finding that his subjective belief was not alone within the newly refounded Raid Council would help significantly ease his intense temper.

"I guess that makes me de tie breaker than?" Cormac began, seeing as how Faetalis had purposefully excluded herself from the voting process. "I won't bother being dramatic or leaving ye on de edge of your seats. I think wiping out Anzelgard is a terrible idea. Even with little to offer in way of support or resources for our future wars, wiping them off de map is more likely to cause us problems in negotiating with other nations. We may be de strongest player on de board as far as we know, but can we really be sure that remains de case past de nations we've interacted with? Besides, I imagine we'll lose more resources and time trying to wipe them out than we could possibly gain. Humans are like cockroaches, pesky little buggers that don't take no for an answer and won't stop bothering ye no matter how much ye may try. No matter what we try, I'm sure there'll be survivors making themselves a nuisance in de region for years." Tungsten would feel a nudge from the giant's elbow as he said, "De lad's got de idea. Trick them into following us and they'll find a way to make themselves useful." The blacksmith knew the others well enough to know a logical reason to keep Anzelgard standing would be more convincing than any impassioned, emotional speech he could give, and so kept everything as practical as he could, hiding his own personal connection with the people.

"My good smith," Gammaton began, addressing Cormac, and sounding slightly offended, "Please don't compare cockroaches to humans. Humans do not hide as well, are not nearly as resilient, do not breed as quickly, and cannot subsist off of refuse for sustenance. I have seen Anzelgard's lax security through the memories I've consumed, and they are not prepared should total war descend upon them. Complete eradication of a human population is not as difficult as eliminating a cockroach population. But I digress. The issue at hand is not how easy it would be to remove Anzelgard from the map, but the cost or benefit of allowing it to remain, and it seems like the majority prefer subtlety, an approach that I am not against. The reasons for not destroying Anzelgard are sound; we did not dominate Yggdrasil through recklessness. However, though I am mostly swayed by the majority opinion, we are a new council, a new governing body, and I do not wish for any schisms to form early, nor anyone to feel ostracized for their stance."

Gammaton turned her attention to Levia, "Levia, what are your thoughts on the majority opinion? If you still feel very strongly about destroying Anzelgard, I am willing to play devil's advocate and argue further on behalf of the minority opinion."

Though Gammaton's preferred form of governance was a hive mind, she knew that this was impossible given the non-insect nature of the rest of the council. Though majority voting was the simplest and seemingly most just, democracy was inherently unjust to the minority. Given Levia's acquiescent nature, Gammaton wanted to make sure that the dragon hybrid still felt that her voice was heard, even if it was still ultimately overruled.

Every comment coming after Levia's had her dreading her decision to say that killing them all was the answer. After all, her logic stemmed solely from having the role of being a living, thinking recycling machine...so asking her for a strategy was a bit of a futile line of questioning. She would kill whoever was necessary, take everything they had, and break it down to make it useful...but here, she was being forced to think and consider the consequences, when her work has always been the least consequential.

Though...Levia did have to admit, she had to keep herself from laughing at Gammaton's offense at Cockroaches and humans being put on the same level. She strongly agreed, especially after seeing how efficient Gammaton's workers were. Insects were scary when organized. Thinking that Gammaton heard Levia almost laugh at her statement prior, Levia paled a bit as her friend turned to her and asked what her thoughts were about everyone countering her suggestion to annihilate Anzelgard.

Clearing her throat, Levia would pose herself with one finger raised on a human hand, with another raised on a draconic hand. "Its not that I'm against just annexing the place...its just that I'm worried they're going to be slower, needier, and less obedient than ANY of our factories. ...I mean, I guess they have thumbs which is more than my slimes have, but I'm working on that in the breeding process. Not to mention, humans are judgmental. The moment they know what we really are, they'll find some excuse to try and kill us. But...everyone here is a lot wiser than I am. And I trust all of you," the Chimeric Dragon said, smiling softly as she looked to each and every member of the new council.

Then, she would raise a fist to the air, before saying: "Therefore, I will only resort to absolute extermination once the humans become uncooperative! If you want, I can even scare them with my Dragon Form into accepting protection!"

All had spoken. All thoughts were accounted for, and all opinions had been taken into consideration.

Anzelgrad would survive, as was always the intention.

In truth, Faetalis had always intended to absorb the fallen kingdom from the start; an established foothold was critical to any planned campaign, as a war could only survive at length on the backs of its people, and their resources. Infactorium was naught to survive an extended campaign against an unknown nation and what it could bring to bear against them. However, now, she knew, even though they habored their doubts, they could be trusted to assume the duties of their position, and thus, they would receive their command without her worrying.

However, as it stood, they had no-one to command, and therefore, they had no chain of command to compel them forward.

There was no Human that would follow the decree of a Monster. As such, she would need to quell their inhuman darkness with an artificial light, and gift onto them the ability to blend among them, so they may stand before them, and rule above them, as wolves in sheep's clothing.

As such, it was time to reopen her Workshop.

"Decided, then, we are in this matter. Anzelgrad shall be annexed, and our borders extended, as a result," Faetalis says. "Now, we move to the next order of business. Follow me," she says, before heading to the door behind her. "It's time to play in The Dollhouse."

Invited into her personal Factory, her newly formed Raid Council would finally see the actual Creation Territory of their Guild Leader that was often spoken of in unsettled, curt terms by her compatriots.

And, for good reason...

“Gogzilla”, “MysterBlyster, “LadyinWaiting”, and so on - left and right; row-by-row; column-by-column; faceless mannequins stood in poses of defeat... nothing more than a taxidermied recreation of every Supreme Beings that had fallen against Infactorium. The mannequins stood in alphabetical order, and, one by one, the Raid Council was affronted by the truth of The Dollhouse, as they took in those they'd long defeated - now, repurposed into “Combat Costumes” for their highest Overseer.

Faetalis was known for being the hardest fight in the Guild, and MinMaxine was spoken of with an odd terror that didn't fit the slime, who was more a mascot than a fighter...

But, then, few only saw the truth.

"Here we are," Faetalis says, as she reached the center of the Warehouse/Dollhouse, and stood before a massive table of sewing machines, weaving looms, and leather working stations that ended at a three-way, full-body vanity set up for tailoring her skinsuits for MinMaxine.

"Time to start your new life, my Raid Council," she says, “Who wants to go first?”

Levia would be lying if she said the Dollhouse didn't unsettle her on an instinctual level. Whereas each member of the guild was a character that could feasibly be created through character building, Levia was more wild than civilized. This was the level of dread that a pig experienced walking into a jerky factory. ...Though...Levia also didn't know what a pig was aside from 'bacon's pre-evolution', so maybe that analogy didn't necessarily apply here.

Regardless, the chimera would gulp at seeing the strange skins surrounding the Dollhouse's mannequins corpses. ...Were they...really made of skin? They looked like the real thing, and Levia couldn't help but nervously touch one, shaking the mannequin back and forth for a bit before reeling away, hissing at it before following after Faetalis and the others. They had to at least be high level constructs to not disintegrate from her passive skills, which was only making her more on edge.

When it was revealed that they were going to be stuffed into suits, Levia had countless questions...such as, why Gammaton would need to use one instead of simply changing her host, and one very vital concern.

How were Levia's multitude of limbs that didn't exactly translate to a human physiology going to be accounted for? Would there be some manner of magic to obscure them? Or...would it be as gruesome as amputation, just to make her fit inside a human's flimsy skin. Clutching her tail defensively, Levia would tremble, saying: "I-I will go first, but only if you promise that I will not be losing my limbs permanently to impersonate a lowly human!"

For a little longer the overseers of Infactorium continued to debate, with the smith Cormac inadvertently leading Gammaton down a small tangent that culminated in a diatribe on the superiority of cockroaches over humankind. Personally Mae didn't value bottom-feeding bugs with no sense of taste over regular people, who at the very least possessed the creative and mental ability to make and appreciate food, but Mae wasn't about to argue with a bug about bug supremacy. For the most part, her fellows seemed to share her opinion that Anzelgard would be better off left standing, and based on the testimony of the majority the dissenters began to reconsider. It wasn't much longer until Faetalis' raid council came to a unanimous decision, misgivings aside. The people of that ill-starred kingdom live on, ignorant of just how close they came to eradication as a result of this meeting, their wanton destruction a mere matter of course prescribed by the unknown arbiters of their fate.

Lady Faetalis accepted the decision readily, and quickly advanced the Raid Council's agenda to the next item on their docket. Though normally not one to overthink things, Mae couldn't dismiss the possibility that the whole thing had been a test, but it seemed as if her Supreme One really did intend to leave such important decisions to her overseers. That, or the answer they'd given had been just the one she'd hoped for. Either way, there was no time to lose, for whatever else Faetalis had planned wouldn't take place in this room.

When Faetalis set off, Mae plodded after the her readily, eager to see (in a manner of speaking) just what lay behind the curtain of the guild's greatest mind. Her mind raced with possibilities, but in the end got only a few moments to wonder before the secret realm of the Supreme Being was laid bare. The headless chef's blindsight roved in astonishment over the myriad dolls that festooned the exhibition hall, each slain god recreated and preserved in its climactic final moments as a grim, macabre testament to Faetalis' power. It sent a chill down the spine even for Mae, who herself had an ability called Spine Chill, and though she shivered she loved every second of it. This was what a Supreme Being must truly look like. Sure, there was something to be said for the high-and-mighty braggart sitting upon a throne, showing off his grandeur for the whole world to see, but this? The subtle, creeping horror of victories unnumbered, stashed away in secret to give credence to the quiet but absolute confidence of Infactorium's ruler. Truly, no greater guild must exist in all the world.

At length the cohort of monsters stopped in front of their mistress' work station, an impressive array of tailoring tools custom-made to handcraft nothing less than functional bodies. For a second what Faetalis said left Mae confused; only when Levia began to reply did her boss's intentions really start to sink in. "Oh!" In order to bring about the annexation of Anzelgard that the Raid Council agreed to, Faetalis planned to plant her overseers among the humans, which demanded suitable disguises. Mae didn't question the practicality of it, since magic made anything possible. If a whole kitchen's worth of tools and ingredients could be stuffed inside Mae's cache, she saw no reason that a monstrosity weighing upwards of six tons could be stuffed into a body the size of a human. But wait...now that she thought about it, didn't she already have something sort of like this? An item, or rather a gift, meant to obscure her abominable form and render her less of an eyesore for Lord Sugi's rather particular compatriots...?

"Hold up a sec, I think I got somethin' along those lines before." The headless chef popped open one of her pouches and plunged her arm inside, groping around in its impossible depths for the article that came to mind. "Hmm, no...ah, not that, doggone it, where is that blasted thing? Ah!" After a few moments of rummaging she pulled out a silken veil, adorned with occult charms. "This doodad! A ways back some o' Lord Sugi's buds got sick o' lookin' at my ugly mug and got me this. It's a..." Not to well-versed in magical artifacts, she scratched at her chins as she tried to explain. "Well, some kinda glamour thing. Makes me look like just like a human, watch!"

Without any head to wrap it around, Mae simply plastered it on her chest like a name tag, and in a poof of smoke the giant ghoul vanished. When it cleared there stood a lady chef among the monstrous overseers, pretty as a picture with long white hair and sky blue eyes. Mae blinked furiously, eyes wide, and nearly fell down from the change in balance as she struggled to come to terms with this very different form once more. She reached up and pulled at her cheeks with both hands. Though just a magical construct of the glamour, her face felt just like the real thing, not that she'd know or anything. "Dadgum!" she said after a moment, staring at the glamor in the provided mirror. "I mean, I ain't gonna pitch a hissy fit or nothin', but this still just don't feel right, no sirree. I'm basically skin and bones! Feel like I'd fly off on a stiff breeze." She patted the glamor's flat stomach, then twisted half-around for a rear view. "Least my center o' gravity's still low, whoo-wee! Guess this is what Sugi's buds had in mind, geheheh!" she chuckled with a goonish smirk, her behavior completely at odds with her dainty new appearance.

After a moment Mae settled down, clearing her throat. Something else had occurred to her, making her glance over at Faetalis with a worried look and furrowed brows. "Uh, not that I'm meanin' to refuse your uh, generosity, boss. This veil thingie's pretty high-level an' all, so if ya don't want me goin' out with it, I'm right happy to try somethin' else." As she spoke she played around with her hair, partly from nervousness and partly from it being a new experience for her.

Following everyone into the Dollhouse, Cormac wouldn’t be as disturbed by the sight of the flayed victims covering mannequins as Levia, but would certainly not find them as impressive as Mae. Flesh was weak and prone to sickness, but it was necessary in order to create the element he truly preferred. Steel. Eventually, their bodies would decay and fail them, even the long lasting dragons and elves, unless Tungsten had some ideas for half-automaton cyborgs. However, the swords and hammers he crafted could last for generations, handed down from wielder to wielder. A legacy that would outlast even his giant form.

Speaking of his giant form, the Raid Council would hear a crash as Cormac accidentally bumped against one of the mannequins, causing it to fall against another which bumped that one against another, creating a short domino effect as a dozen mannequins fell against the floor. A gruff, ”Sorry,” was muttered before his large arms scooped up the mess he made

While standing the dummies back up, Mae would make her transformation behind him, giving the blacksmith quite the shock when he turned back around. “Jeez, you look just like de humans. Can’t even tell the difference.”

He then turned to Faetalis and asked, ”No offense, lass, but do I even need a disguise? I’m already able to blend in with de humans without trouble.” The giant wasn't against the idea, but other than maybe making him shorter so he didn't need to duck beneath the door frames of human buildings, Cormac couldn't find a purpose behind a disguise for himself.

Gammaton was glad that Levia did not seem to have been slighted by having her original suggestion overruled by the majority. This was a good sign, and it looked like the council would be able to cooperate without issue going forward. The thought stuck in Gammaton's mind for a moment, since disagreement didn't seem to have even been a possibility in the past. What was it about this world that made potential friction even an issue? Gammaton had been pensive and ponderous as of late, having noticed that something within herself had fundamentally changed. Still, there were more important matters at hand, and Faetalis led them to the Dollhouse.

Gammaton remembered with the passion of open combat the faces of these simulacra of past opponents, and had no idea that Faetalis had been collecting them. Levia seemed apprehensive of fitting her frame into a humanoid body, whereas Mae had her own disguise, and Cormac hardly needed one. Gammaton too, as a brain parasite, could embed herself into a host as a disguise instead, though that would require her to make a full metamorphic cycle before she was in that phase again. But it seemed disrespectful if none of them accepted this gift from Faetalis, so Gammaton crawled over to the form of a female knight. "This one...I remember her. I may not be able to fit in my current form, but once I am fully evolved, I should be able to. I may have to clip my wings to do so, but a strong healing spell should put me right as rain afterwards."