Chapter 207: Diplomacy (Patreon)

Marcus couldn’t hide his amazement at the sudden respectful silence that smothered the aggressive side negotiations that had dominated the basement meeting room.

He was seated among almost 20 people, all presumably working together, but espousing extremely confrontational positions between them. The fact that he was there, an outsider, had made little difference in the way they presented themselves. None of them bothered putting up airs, and most of them had already pitched Marcus or his diplomats for support in private meetings. They were demanding concessions, resources, or man-power from each other for their respective territories in ways that hardly promoted cooperation. The fact that another settlement event had been announced earlier in the day had put them into a frenzy. If Marcus didn’t already know better, he would have been surprised to learn they were a united front when it came to the settlement as a whole. Glancing at his new friend at one end of the main table, he could tell the bespectacled man had both grown accustomed to the environment and was quite exhausted by it, but it was his doing that held all the pieces together.

Marcus had been a part of his fair share of diplomatic negotiations, heard the subtly threatening pitches of powerful corporations, and been lobbied by all sorts of experts and charlatans when he had pursued his career in politics. None of them had any inclination to display any modesty when they thought to strongarm the youngest representative that had been elected in his district, but nothing had ever crossed any obvious lines of legality, at least not by the time they reached him. His staff certainly had stories, but everything was carefully filtered before making it to his desk. The current setting was different, and if he had still been operating in a more official capacity, he would have excused himself for fear of being caught up in potential criminal conspiracies.

The two century old, dark stained, solid wood conference table was glowing with the yellow light of old lamps, highlighting the natural grain and expert finish, but the rest of the room was dimly lit and shrouded in smoky shadows. The table dominated the room, leaving little space beyond its edges. The attendees sat in plush black leather chairs that were creased with age and unusually comfortable. A large fireplace crackled with life across from his position. The mantel was covered in old artifacts with a large mirror covering the wall above, reflecting Marcus’s seated position back to him between distracted representatives as they argued amongst themselves. Both sides of the fireplace were covered in heavy shelves filled with a combination of books, sculptures, and dark oil paintings propped against each other. Small side tables were scattered around the room, displaying alcohol and cigars with crystal ashtrays.

When Marcus had been invited to participate in a meeting with all of the leaders of Neon Park, he hadn’t expected to find himself in the basement of a rec room in the Bronx. The host had summoned them all to one place specifically to discuss important matters that would dictate the future of the region. He thought they would be meeting in a bright spacious executive room for such an occasion, especially given what he had heard about the host’s elegance.

Marcus had spent the last several days learning absolutely everything he could about the various forces in the region. His ambassadors had done the same, and now he had a pretty decent read on the lay of the land. He was in his arena, and it was about time he delivered on behalf of Ghost Reef. He was excited to meet the final piece of the puzzle that was Neon Park as the host of the meeting was the only prominent person who hadn’t had a personal meeting with him beforehand.

As he sat between shouting voices, he imagined how Coop would respond to such aggressive political posturing. The thought brought a small smile to his face. The nonchalant rejections delivered by the casual Champion would probably infuriate the borough leaders even more than the shouted insults he was hearing.

Sitting behind Marcus, Charlie was doing her best to sink into herself and avoid attention while Camila leaned her boots on a side table next to a thick glass decanter half-full of aged whiskey while pulling loose strands from the end of her ponytail. Neither of the girls demonstrated a particular desire to be present for the meeting, but the three of them were the official delegates of Ghost Reef. Marcus intended to make their information the main topic of the conference, regardless of the official itinerary, and he thought their united presence would lend credence to the wild claims he would need to make. An existential threat was on the horizon, and it was about time the word spread outside of Ghost Reef’s holdings. With all of the region’s leaders present at once, it was the perfect time for him to dictate how the information was presented.

A moment before the silence, the group of leaders were still talking over each other, demanding cooperation or subservience from the neighbors to their areas of influence. Neon, the Champion of Neon Park, sat quietly at one end of the table, with the Brooklyn commander at his side. Marcus considered them the most stable of the bunch, and would even be willing to call Neon a new friend and easy ally to Ghost Reef, with aspirations that aligned with their ideals. The fact that he was also the official leader of the city by virtue of his Champion status made the situation even better, though he was less of the singular force that Coop was for Ghost Reef. The fact that Neon provided leadership for tens of millions of people throughout the region seemed to necessitate a more delicate touch than Coop had the appetite for.

Neon had a subtle smile on his face as the commanders from Staten Island and Manhattan yelled over him with their own delegates. Behind him, a girl scowled at anyone that spoke to him from beneath long strands of silvery hair that caught the light from the fireplace. Evidently, she was the top dog in the entire region when it came to actual combat, and she had her own exciting information to share with the group, having only recently returned home from a long trip. In the meantime, she seemed to be barely containing the urge to violently defend the Champion from those who would disrespectfully demand his attention.

The other borough leaders had their own agendas, but at least they were all aligned in the continued safety of Neon Park. They worked together when it counted, but they were constantly forced to react as block leaders within the city staked their own positions and angled for increased authority, gathering and losing momentum and followers as quickly as the days passed. There had nearly been a full uprising while many of the elites that kept the city from infighting were off searching for Camila. Evidently, groups of Chosen had decided it was time for them to take control. They leveraged their gathered power to demand a transfer of leadership to them, and them alone.

It was the stability provided by the one who called this meeting that prevented any sort of civil war from breaking out, combined with the not to be underestimated strength of the borough leaders themselves. The Chosen that believed they should lead were expelled when Neon led a squad of the leaders in combat, and not just from Neon Park. The entire north eastern alliance was aligned, with two of the other settlements in the region already officially becoming subordinate settlements and another two simply waiting for their turn. The decision-makers of seven different factions were present, covering technically wild territory from Washington DC all the way through the more tamed areas with surviving civilization shards in New England and into Canada. While Neon was the de facto leader, there was another that was keeping a steady hand on the city, and therefore the alliance.

The hushing that subdued the chaotic conversations was triggered by a hidden door opening. The respectful silence had surprised Marcus, but when Carlos was the one to enter the room, he barely held back from laughing out loud. Carlos walked to the other end of the table and pulled the main seat out before the real borough commander entered the room.

All eyes were on her as she took her seat, removing a red shawl and smoothing her dark brown dress as she took her time making herself comfortable before she silently gestured a greeting to the others. Gabby and Carlos flanked her, leaning into the shadows against the wall. If it wasn’t for Neon’s companion, and Charlie and Camila’s presence, Gabby and Carlos would have been the strongest in the room, but that was if they were only utilizing the system’s assessment. If everything that Marcus had learned about the Lady was true, she was the one that had the most power, carrying over connections from the pre-mana times and bolstering her position with absolute loyalty from people of all walks of life that had the pleasure of falling under her protection. The fact that she was the very same person as Camila’s grandmother was a continued shock that he wasn’t sure he would get over.

When the former philanthropist, community leader, and now Bronx borough commander spoke, everyone listened. “I have an announcement to make, a warning to share, and a suggestion for all of us. They are each important enough to necessitate communicating personally, and I hope you will take them with due consideration.”

No one interrupted, letting her set the agenda, even if they all had their own demands to make of the others. They expected to fight for their turn afterwards.

“First,” She held up a single finger with a painted red nail highlighted by the light. “My family has joined a faction.” She announced.

All hell broke loose. The other groups immediately began shouting, upset and surprised by the revelation. They had been confident that the Lady was firmly on their side, so the fact that she had announced aligning with someone else must have felt like an absolute betrayal. The vague panic was a clear sign of how much they relied on her. They only started to calm when Gabby unhooked her baseball bat from her belt. The quiet bodyguard wasn’t someone to make empty gestures, and the entire room, down to the last person, was aware of her attitude. She and Carlos were opposites on the spectrum of reputations, but together they could maintain order in the underground meeting.

A single voice broke through the diminishing clamor, speaking on behalf of the rest. “What the hell? A faction? Weren’t you the one that adamantly opposed the settlement joining any of them to ‘avoid creating unnecessary internal conflicts’? What happened to all that talk about the aliens not having our community’s interest in mind?” The commander of Queens demanded, apparently throwing previous arguments back onto the table, and articulating them in rapid succession.

“This is a faction that was founded here on Earth, by humans.” The Lady calmly responded, before holding her hand up to delay the inevitable shouts, doubts, and arguments. “I have confirmed it is true, and this brings me to my suggestion. You should all join as well.”

Marcus’s head had swiveled like a top when she stated that her faction was founded by humans. He looked at Camila, seeking an explanation. She hadn’t said anything about recruitment, but when she met his eyes she gestured toward Charlie, putting the blame on the most unlikely individual of them all. The timid former park ranger was using her eyes to bore a hole into the carpet of the basement.

“A human faction?!” Several members of the meeting asked each other. “Is there one?

“If that’s true why don’t we just make our own?” A voice cut above the rest. Others gathered in agreement, rapidly building a consensus.

“You can’t.” Marcus jumped in, speaking with rare authority. “Factions aren’t so easy to establish. This will be the only one created during our assimilation.”

“And who are you?” One of the leaders of an outer settlement that lacked a shard in the DC area questioned Marcus.

“I am Viceroy Marcus Rollins of Ghost Reef.” Marcus let a pause slip in before he continued, letting himself enjoy the reactions at the mention of Ghost Reef. Their performance during the siege event had been universally noticed, and every time he explained where he was from, he received bewildered expressions, as if Ghost Reef was a mystical place that had invaded the consciousness of everyone he met. “The founding city of the only human faction.”

The revelation that Ghost Reef had also created a human faction was breaking news that caused even more confused speculation around the table.

“Neon Park is ranked higher than Ghost Reef on the leaderboards. Why can’t we make our own, if we need a faction at all?” One of the other borough commander’s escorts asked.

Marcus maintained his air of confidence as he fudged the details a bit. “It was the reward for our performance during the Siege Event. Only the first settlement to reach the threshold in points can start one, but if you can find another way, have at it.” He stated, giving the escort an encouraging gesture with his hand.

“What if we just take it from you?” Someone else suggested with a chuckle to try and hide the threat as if it was a joke.

Marcus laughed along, identifying the man before he responded.

[Human (Level 56)]

[-Strength]

[-Agility]

[-Body]

[-Mind]

[-Intelligence]

[-Acumen]

Marcus completely eclipsed the man in every possible way, though when it came down to it, even he was a powerhouse compared to the rest of the room. He wiped the fake smile from his face and stared at the man seriously. “You’re welcome to try, but I suspect the results wouldn’t go the way you think they would.”

“Don’t look at me.” Platinum stated clearly when the man who levied the threat shied away from Marcus and sought her for backup. “You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“Let’s not start any unnecessary fights.” The calming voice of the Lady settled any further debates, tapping one of a pair of sharp steel needles against the table that had been pinned through her hair. “Let me explain why I have made my decision and you will be able to make your own before jumping to conclusions.”

When she began to explain the Eradication Protocol and the Purification Aura, Marcus sighed. He realized that his carefully rehearsed speech revealing the dangers that humanity faced, necessitating a properly united force, would never see the light of day. Instead, the leaders of the north eastern alliance would hear the news from a more trusted source. She was seen as a reliable pillar of their settlement, so they would heed her words, no matter how fantastical they seemed. Marcus had to admit it was better this way, and he begrudgingly let his role slide from the forefront. In any case, there was no stealing the spotlight from Camila’s grandmother. Her presence was diversion enough.

When she concluded her reasoning, the room settled into an uneasy quiet as the leaders chewed on her words. None of them dismissed the ridiculousness of the situation, and if they wanted to question the large gaps of unknown variables, they declined to vocalize their doubts.

Neon was the first one to speak. “I’m perfectly happy with joining this faction, especially if it means I don’t need to be the singular individual at the top. The leader of the faction can take that position.” He chuckled, trying to provide some levity to the cliff they had been sleepwalking into.

“Hey, you know if you want to step down, there are about 12 of us ready to take your place.” The Manhattan commander offered with a joking smile. There were obviously people who would volunteer to become Champion of Neon Park, the problem was that they would all drag each other back down if any tried as none of them could agree to let someone else take the position over themselves. Neon was trapped as the neutral leader by virtue of so many people aiming for his seat, but he was secure as long as the Lady was happy.

“Well, allow me to share some good news.” Neon continued. “A few days ago, our most reliable hero returned from an extended trip to the west coast.” He raised a hand as if presenting Platinum who just scowled at being called a hero, or maybe it was because she was called reliable.

“She’s been back for days, and you’re only sharing this now?” One of the leaders from Boston asked skeptically.

Neon kept a content smile on his face as he responded. “This is the first time we’ve all been together in one room since she came back.” He gestured apologetically. “Besides, I’d like to see you force Platinum into an all-hands meeting immediately after coming home.” Platinum blew air out of her nose as she tried to maintain a neutral silence while several others around the table chuckled.

Marcus didn’t think it was much of a shock to control exclusive information. It was basically the first fundamental rule of a negotiation. He imagined that half of the room would be missing if they had heard the news before the others as they tried to leverage the information by making direct contact before the others could act. Marcus thought the real surprise was Neon’s claim of how far she had actually traveled. Considering how long and dangerous the trip must have been, his assessment of Platinum was altered slightly.

Neon continued. “She made contact with a large collection of settlements that are working together beneath someone called General McCallister out of Silvervalley. The Pacific Republic and the Cascadia Alliance are cooperating to gather as many people as possible to stand against the Primal Constructs, and have invited us to join their cause. They have suggested a Continental Congress of sorts and already set a date. Day 150 in the Heartland settlement that Platinum is already familiar with.”

“Good people.” Platinum cut in. “I’ll be going back to help no matter what you all decide.”

Neon nodded. “I’ll be joining her. They will be gathering an army to conquer what they have labeled the Fallen Zone, and if we would like to participate in either diplomacy or the hunt, we are welcome to do so. Neon Park will be officially participating in both, at least between the two of us.” He indicated himself and Platinum intended to leave their settlement for a period. He looked at Marcus meaningfully. “Perhaps it would be a good opportunity to spread word of the Eradication Protocol and invite more of humanity to pool its resources in our singular human faction.”

Marcus thought he might have an opportunity for his speech after all, but they would need to make a difficult choice based on limited information. Depending on how long the Underlayer Settlement Event lasted, there might not be enough time to defend Ghost Reef during the next settlement event and also attend this Continental Congress.

Neon recognized Marcus’s dilemma and elaborated a bit for his benefit. “They didn’t predict that a settlement event would occur, but I do believe it is a sign of confidence to set a specific date so far in advance, given the unpredictability of the assimilation. Assuming they survive, I’m sure someone will be there. And of course: we all intend to survive as well.” Neon looked around the room. “Since we are all gathered together, let’s discuss how we will prepare for the more immediate challenge.”