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"Is that right?" said Helen. "Well then, please, don't keep me in suspense."

"I think it may have something to do with fire," said Abbas, "but not like that of a roaring inferno, as one might normally expect from anything called a 'forge.' I think it will have a... gentler aspect to it."

That was the first Hector was hearing of that. Abbas must really have been mulling that assessment over for a while.

The Queen did not look terribly impressed, though. "A... 'gentle' super weapon." She didn't say anything further, perhaps because the tone of her voice was saying it for her.

How were they supposed to fight the maniacs of Abolish with something gentle?

"As I said, it may not be weaponry that is born of the Forge."

The Queen just gave a doubtful nod.

"I know how it sounds," said Abbas. "Perhaps the Forge will not live up to my hopes. That is quite possible. Likely, even. I have no illusions about that. But even so, I must pursue this opportunity. Wherever it may lead me."

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Caster Egmond unfolded his chair and sat down in it.

He was earlier than most of the others. That was abnormal for him. For the longest time, he had stopped taking these meetings seriously. He had stopped caring about the cause, the shared misery and accompanying sense of camaraderie. He'd just been going through the motions, playing a part, repeating the words he'd heard thousands of times by now.

"It's not as bad as we make it out to be in our minds."

"People aren't judging us as much as we think they are."

"We command respect, in our own way."

"We have other, more important qualities that we can focus on."

"If our reapers haven't given up on us, then we shouldn't give up on ourselves."

And to think, he'd actually begun to believe all that stuff for a while. For a long while. Decades, even.

But now?

He sighed quietly to himself.