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The meeting continued on for far longer than Karkash would've liked. Lozaro droned on and on about the new trinkets he was providing to them, and if Karkash had the authority, he would've absolutely told him to be more concise.

Especially because the trinkets weren't even that complicated or impressive, as far as he was concerned. They were baubles meant to be distributed to the less powerful members of the each sect. A way of boosting their combat potential.

And there was a lot of magnetization, Karkash noticed. Magnetized knives. Magnetized grenades. Magnetized bullets, even.

Karkash could only surmise that Lozaro had created these things after observing him on the battlefield.

Which was quite annoying, the more Karkash thought about it.

All redundant works. Inferior to what he could more easily do himself.

When the meeting was finally over, Karkash was ready to tear the tented enclosure to pieces just to escape as quickly as possible. Instead, he settled for walking.

Maddeningly, however, Lozaro found him and began talking to him directly.

"A moment, please, Headhunter."

Karkash contained his displeasure and turned to face the man. He said nothing.

"Will you be seeking an audience with Jercash today?" asked Lozaro. His sickly complexion might have made him fit right in with the Venerators--or perhaps he even used to be one.

"No," said Karkash. Why was he asking that?

Lozaro's brow twitched. "...I see. But if he calls for you, what might you tell him of the meeting we just had?"

Karkash's expression was stone, but he had no idea where this line of questioning could possibly be leading. Should he just be blunt?

Pah, why not? The man asked.

"I will tell him that it was a waste of my time."

Lozaro looked absolutely haunted. "I--you--ngh... egh..."

And what was this now? Karkash so badly wanted to try slapping some sense into him, but again, he restrained himself.

Karkash felt a hand on his shoulder as someone else arrived and stood next to him.

"What's the matter, Lozzie?" said the familiar voice of Abdul Mari.

The man they called Lucky, among other odd monikers.

Karkash eyed Abdul carefully. There weren't many people who could sneak up on him like that, anymore. His senses had become highly attuned in multiple different ways, to the point where people kept asking if he had eyes in the back of his head.

And yet he hadn't sensed Abdul there at all.

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The representative from the Venerators, Karrigo Marda, stepped forward to grab one of the items on the table and hold it up for inspection. "You've been quite prolific recently, Lozaro. And working with new materials, too? I've never known you to do much with metal."

Karrigo was, for once, not covered in the decorative streaks of blood that his sect was so well-known for.

Karkash might've wondered why that was, if he'd cared.

The Venerators had been trying to court him for months now, but he had no interest; and thankfully, neither did Hoyohté. The last thing Karkash wanted was to become beholden to some new group of fools, regardless of how much new status or influence might be promised.

He much preferred the current path of forming his own sect. The only problem was finding worthy members.

"Yes," said Lozaro. "Working under Jercash has been quite inspirational for me. I must push toward new horizons."

Karrigo returned a sharp smile. "As must we all." The man's pallid complexion could hardly have looked more different from Karkash's bronzey one. Many of the Mardas were like that, apparently, though not all. "But I must say, I do so enjoy your biologic work. I can't help but feel that we are missing a trick by not deploying any of the diseases you've concocted."

"What nonsense are you spewing?" came another voice, drawing everyone's gaze. It belonged to Jarin Soltan, representative of the Gatherers. He was a square, stocky man with more beard than face. "We've no time for such ineffectual strategies. Indulge in your sick delights after we've won, Marda."

Karrigo was the only one who hadn't turned to look at him. "The objective here is to do as much damage as possible, not defeat the enemy. Surely, even your feeble mind is capable of grasping that, yes?"

Jarin scoffed. "Ever the words of a retreating loser. Is that how you raise your sad, pale children to think, too? It would explain much."

A thick silence fell over the small crowd as everyone waited for the response.

And perhaps it was fortunate that it never arrived, because Karkash could sense the burning vitriol within the Venerator. In a different time and place, a fight would have already broken out.

Yet another reason why Karkash had no interest in joining any of these other sects. He would have to inherit their messy feuds, too.

But then again, continuing to refuse them would probably bring some of that to him, regardless.

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Zenia picked up each trinket and began handing them to Desmond. "These are a set. You must keep them on at all times."

Desmond fiddled with each one as he donned them. "A set in what sense?"

"They will alter your soul signature," said Zenia, offering him the metal orb last. "If any hostile reapers there are familiar with you, they will not recognize you."

He held up the orb to examine it against the sky, squinting. "What're the odds of that? I'm not very well known. I assume that's why I was picked for this gig in the first place."

She stared at him a moment. "Would you prefer not to have this added layer of protection?"

He smacked his lips and gave her a smile. "I'm just curious. I appreciate the help, of course." The real question was if there was some other function to these things. If they helped conceal him from the Vanguard, perhaps they did the opposite from Abolish.

From the sound of things, the only upside to this mission was going to be that he wouldn't have anyone breathing down his neck for a change, but maybe these damn trinkets were going to change that.

Voicing his complaints, however, was not something that Desmond planned on doing. He'd seen that go poorly for his peers far too many times.

"The orb contains the unique soul signature," said the secretary. "If your cover is blown, then enemy reapers will still be able to memorize that, too. In which case, you may be able to replace the orb's signature with a new one, thereby regaining your concealment."

Ooh. "Impressive. But... how difficult would the replacement process be?"

"Almost impossible," she said flatly. "I did say you may be able to replace it."

He kinda figured as much. If his cover was truly blown, then that would also mean he would be actively hunted by enemy reapers. Even if the replacement itself was simple, doing it while being hunted down would make it challenging.

It probably wasn't simple, either, was it?

He held back a sigh as she continued to explain.

-+-+-+-+-

Karkash looked over the objects strewn across the table. Lozaro stood on the other side, addressing the representatives of numerous sects, of which Karkash was merely one.

"Great strides have been made," said Lozaro, his voice sounding oddly unsteady to Karkash's ears. "But do not expect miracles. These are all effectively prototypes, still."