The celebration lasted exactly seven minutes.
That was how long Arin allowed it.
Seven minutes for soldiers to shout.
Seven minutes for workers to embrace.
Seven minutes for people who had spent days expecting death to stand beneath the body of the King Beneath the Mountain and realize they had survived.
Then Arin climbed onto the broken section of the northern wall and raised one hand.
The city quieted faster than he expected.
Thousands of faces turned toward him.
Torches burned beneath them.
Behind Arin, the corpse of the Calamity stretched across the ruined quarry like a fallen mountain.
Its blood still steamed against the earth.
Arin looked over the people.
Five days ago, they had barely listened.
Now they waited.
That difference carried a weight he had not expected.
"We won."
The crowd erupted again.
Arin let it.
For a few seconds.
Then raised his hand once more.
The noise faded.
"But we’re not finished."
Confusion replaced excitement.
Garrick stood below the wall with his arms crossed.
Torren leaned against the giant ballista, looking deeply suspicious.
Magistrate Corven looked as if someone had informed him that surviving a Calamity required additional paperwork.
Arin pointed toward the southern gate.
A silver road had appeared there.
It had not existed an hour earlier.
"Another settlement is dying."
Murmurs spread.
One man shouted, "Not ours!"
Several others agreed.
Arin did not silence them.
He expected that reaction.
They had just survived their own disaster.
They were exhausted.
Some had lost family.
Some had not slept properly for nearly a week.
Asking them to march toward another crisis was not simple.
Arin continued.
"Their water system has failed."
The crowd quieted slightly.
"They’re running out of food."
Someone near the workshops cursed.
"Civil order is collapsing. Their army took too many workers away from the farms and walls."
The people understood that immediately.
They had nearly suffered the same fate.
A woman near the front raised her voice.
"Who did that?"
Arin answered without hesitation.
"The man leading them."
Garrick’s eyebrows rose.
Arin had no intention of hiding the truth.
"Then let them deal with him!" another man shouted.
A murmur of agreement followed.
Arin nodded.
"That’s reasonable."
That response surprised them.
"So if you’re injured, stay."
He pointed toward the healers.
"If you’re exhausted to the point you can’t work safely, sleep."
Then toward the families.
"If your children need you, remain here."
The crowd remained silent.
"I’m not ordering this city to empty itself for strangers."
Arin looked toward the silver road.
"But I’m going."
Garrick sighed.
Torren muttered something Arin could not hear.
A young soldier raised his hand.
"Why?"
Arin looked at him.
"Because their leader failing them doesn’t mean they deserve to die."
Another voice came from the crowd.
"But they’re not our people."
Arin considered the statement.
Then answered.
"Neither were you five days ago."
Silence.
No speech could have been more effective.
The woodcutter who had first approached Arin in the central square stepped forward.
He still carried the same cracked axe.
"I’ll go."
A farmer followed.
"I’ve got two wagons."
A healer raised her hand.
"We can spare six people."
Then Torren swore loudly.
Everyone looked toward him.
The blacksmith pointed accusingly at Arin.
"I knew this would happen."
Arin frowned.
"What?"
"You made us functional."
"That’s usually considered good."
"Now you expect us to do things."
"Yes."
Torren shook his head.
"Terrible leadership."
Several workers laughed.
Then he turned toward the workshop.
"Load the spare tools!"
That was enough.
The city moved again.
Not all ten thousand.
Arin would never have allowed that.
The wounded remained.
Half the soldiers stayed behind.
Farmers protected the fields.
Construction teams repaired the damage caused by the Calamity.
The city continued functioning.
That mattered.
Within two hours, the southern gate filled with wagons.
Food.
Water barrels.
Tools.
Medical supplies.
Replacement pump components.
Timber.
Rope.
Metal.
Arin inspected each convoy himself.
Garrick approached while tightening the straps on his armor.
Arin looked at him.
"You’re staying."
"No."
"That’s an order."
"Then consider this my resignation."
"You can’t resign from a position I gave you five days ago."
"Watch me."
Arin stared at him.
Garrick stared back.
Neither moved.
Finally Arin sighed.
"Half your soldiers stay."
"Already arranged."
"Captain Merrow commands."
"Done."
"No unnecessary fighting."
Garrick looked offended.
"When have I ever—"
Arin raised an eyebrow.
Garrick stopped.
"Fine."
Torren approached carrying a large hammer over one shoulder.
Arin looked at him.
"No."
Torren stopped.
"You didn’t even let me speak."
"You are not coming."
"I built the weapons that killed the King."
"Exactly."
"So?"
"So the city needs you."
Torren frowned.
"That’s unfairly sensible."
"Stay."
The blacksmith looked toward the road.
Then at Arin.
"You die over there, I’m naming the workshop district after myself."
"You already named it Founders’ Yard."
"I’ll rename it."
"Then I definitely have to return."
Torren grinned.
"Good."
Arin climbed onto the lead wagon.
There was no Phantom-01.
No Warden.
No futuristic armor.
Just horses, wooden wheels, and hundreds of people who had chosen to follow him.
It felt strangely more significant.
The gate opened.
The convoy moved south.
The silver road crossed terrain that should not have existed within the original settlement.
Arin understood quickly that the Trial had created a temporary connection between the two simulations.
The landscape shifted around them.
Healthy grass became dry.
Trees became thinner.
Then fields appeared.
Dead fields.
Garrick noticed first.
"No crops."
Arin’s expression hardened.
Rows of farmland stretched on both sides of the road.
Most had been abandoned.
Some had clearly been trampled.
Others had been converted into military camps.
He saw spear racks where grain should have grown.
Training grounds where irrigation channels should have run.
Lucan had not simply neglected food.
He had dismantled production to strengthen his army.
A System window appeared.
«ENTERING SECOND CLAIMANT TERRITORY.
PRIMARY AUTHORITY:
LUCAN VALERIUS.
VISITING FOUNDER:
ARIN ELYSIUM.
HOSTILE ACTION BETWEEN CLAIMANTS:
RESTRICTED.»
Arin dismissed it.
The first refugees appeared a kilometer later.
A family walked along the roadside.
An older woman.
Two boys.
A man carrying a little girl.
All exhausted.
They froze when they saw the convoy.
The man reached for a knife.
Garrick lifted one hand.
"No threat."
The stranger looked at the barrels.
"Water?"
Arin climbed down.
"Yes."
The man’s eyes widened.
"How much?"
"Enough."
The woman beside him started crying.
Arin looked toward one of the wagons.
"Open a barrel."
A worker hesitated.
"Founder, if we start distributing here—"
"We brought it to distribute."
The barrel opened.
People drank.
More refugees appeared.
Then more.
Within twenty minutes, dozens surrounded the convoy.
Arin did not let it become chaotic.
"One cup each."
A boy stared at him.
"Only one?"
"Until we reach the city."
The child looked disappointed.
Arin crouched slightly.
"You drink three now, you’ll regret it."
The boy’s mother nodded quickly.
"Listen to him."
The boy drank one.
Arin looked toward the father.
"Why did you leave?"
The man laughed bitterly.
"Leave?"
He pointed south.
"We were thrown out."
"Why?"
"Food ration."
Garrick’s expression hardened.
The man continued.
"Soldiers first. Smiths second. Workers third. Everyone else..."
He shrugged.
"My daughter got sick. I missed two work rotations."
Arin looked at the child.
She barely appeared conscious.
"They removed your rations?"
"Yes."
"By Lucan’s order?"
The man hesitated.
"I don’t know."
Important distinction.
Arin nodded.
"Come with us."
The stranger stared.
"Back?"
"Yes."
"You don’t understand."
"I probably don’t."
Arin stood.
"So explain while walking."
The family joined the convoy.
More refugees followed.
By the time Lucan’s city appeared, Arin’s group had doubled.
And what he saw explained everything.
The walls were magnificent.
That was the problem.
Stone towers rose higher than those of Arin’s settlement.
Military banners covered every gate.
Soldiers patrolled battlements in disciplined formations.
Ballistae stood at regular intervals.
Training yards filled the outer districts.
It looked powerful.
Then Arin looked lower.
People slept beneath the walls.
Trash covered the streets.
The public fountains were dry.
Food lines stretched hundreds of meters.
Three buildings were burning in the southern district.
Nobody was trying very hard to extinguish them.
Garrick stared.
"Impressive fortress."
Arin nodded.
"Terrible city."
The gate guards noticed them.
Spears lowered.
"Stop!"
The convoy halted.
A soldier stepped forward.
"State affiliation."
Arin climbed down from the wagon.
"Open the gate."
The guard frowned.
"State affiliation."
"Arin."
Several soldiers reacted.
Recognition.
Fear.
Confusion.
One whispered:
"The other claimant."
Their commander stepped forward.
"You are forbidden from entering."
Arin looked toward the water barrels.
"Your people are thirsty."
"That doesn’t concern you."
"You’re right."
The commander seemed surprised.
Arin continued.
"But it concerns them."
He pointed toward the refugees.
"Move."
The soldiers lowered their spears.
Garrick’s hand moved toward his sword.
Arin stopped him with one glance.
No.
Not yet.
The commander shook his head.
"Lord Lucan ordered all external personnel kept outside."
"Then tell him I’m here."
"We have orders."
"So do I."
"From whom?"
Arin looked at him.
"Myself."
That answer seemed to irritate the man.
"Turn around."
"No."
"Founder arbitration prevents you from attacking us."
Arin smiled faintly.
"I know."
The commander relaxed.
That was his mistake.
Arin walked past him.
The soldier grabbed Arin’s shoulder.
The System flashed.
«HOSTILE CONTACT DETECTED.
CLAIMANT DID NOT INITIATE.»
Arin stopped.
Turned.
Removed the hand from his shoulder.
"Arbitration prevents me from attacking Lucan."
His voice remained quiet.
"I don’t remember it saying anything about you."
The commander’s face changed.
Garrick smiled.
The soldiers stepped back.
Arin continued through the gate.
The convoy followed.
Nobody tried to stop it.
Chaos greeted them.
A fistfight broke out beside the first food station.
Two soldiers dragged a civilian away.
A woman screamed from an alley.
Someone had painted words across a military recruitment office.
WE CANNOT EAT SWORDS.
Arin read it once.
Garrick followed his gaze.
"Accurate."
"Very."
People noticed the water wagons.
The street changed instantly.
Dozens approached.
Then hundreds.
Arin climbed onto one wagon.
"Stop!"
They did not.
Too desperate.
He understood.
But desperation could crush children beneath a crowd.
Arin drew his sword.
Then drove it into the wooden wagon bed.
The sound cut through the street.
Heads turned.
"You want water?"
Shouts answered.
"Yes!"
"Then form lines."
Nobody moved.
Arin pointed toward the nearest soldiers.
"You six."
They stared.
"Create lanes."
One laughed.
"We don’t take orders from you."
Arin looked at the crowd.
Then back at them.
"You can either organize the line or explain why someone died beneath a water wagon while you watched."
The soldier’s expression shifted.
He moved.
The others followed.
"Families with children first."
People protested.
Arin ignored it.
"Then elderly. Then everyone else."
A man shouted:
"We’ve been waiting two days!"
Arin looked directly toward him.
"The child beside you has been alive four years."
Silence.
The man looked down.
A little girl stood near his leg.
He stepped backward.
"Children first."
The words spread.
Within minutes, lines formed.
Water began moving.
Then food.
Then medicine.
Arin watched carefully.
Something happened that surprised him.
Lucan’s soldiers helped.
Not because Arin threatened them.
Because they were thirsty too.
Because they had families.
Because many had probably known the system was failing but lacked authority to change it.
A System window appeared.
«FOREIGN POPULATION RESPONSE:
TRUST IN ARIN:
4% → 18%.»
Arin dismissed it.
He was not here to steal Lucan’s people.
Numbers meant nothing if everyone died.
"Where’s your central reservoir?" Arin asked one soldier.
The man hesitated.
"North district."
"Why did it fail?"
"Pump mechanism."
"Take our engineers."
The soldier blinked.
"You want us to repair it?"
"That is why I brought engineers."
"But you’re the enemy."
Arin looked at him.
"Are you thirsty?"
"...Yes."
"Then stop wasting my time."
The soldier ran.
Garrick chuckled.
"Your diplomacy is improving."
"I hate diplomacy."
"That explains it."
Lucan arrived thirty minutes later.
He came on horseback with almost fifty soldiers.
People immediately cleared the road.
Not because they hated him.
Because they feared his authority.
Lucan wore silver armor.
His sword remained at his hip.
He looked tired.
Not physically.
Something deeper.
The moment he saw Arin standing beside the water wagons, his expression darkened.
"What are you doing?"
Arin looked at the cup in his hand.
"Drinking."
Lucan dismounted.
"You know what I mean."
"Repairing your city."
"I didn’t ask."
"I know."
"Then leave."
"No."
Lucan’s soldiers shifted.
Arin’s convoy workers stiffened.
Garrick rested one hand on his sword.
Arin continued drinking.
Lucan approached.
"I can finish the Trial without your pity."
"This isn’t pity."
"Then what?"
Arin handed the empty cup to a nearby worker.
"Cleanup."
Lucan’s eyes hardened.
"You think you won because your settlement has better numbers."
"I killed my Calamity."
"So did I."
Arin looked toward him.
That explained the military score.
"How many died?"
Lucan did not answer.
Arin already knew enough.
"Exactly."
Lucan’s jaw tightened.
"I made the choices necessary for victory."
"No."
Arin stepped closer.
"You made the choices necessary for you to win."
Lucan said nothing.
"There’s a difference."
"You know nothing about command."
"I know people need water."
"Do not speak to me as though I’m a child."
"Then stop behaving like someone who discovered swords before wells."
A few nearby civilians reacted.
Some covered smiles.
Lucan noticed.
His expression became colder.
"You came here to humiliate me."
Arin laughed once.
"No."
He pointed toward the food line.
"I came because those people were starving."
Then the reservoir district.
"Because your pumps were broken."
Then toward the refugees entering the gate.
"And because your soldiers threw sick families outside your walls."
Lucan turned sharply toward his officers.
That reaction was real.
He had not known.
Interesting.
One captain lowered his head.
"Ration enforcement required—"
Lucan struck him.
The blow sent the man to the ground.
Arin’s eyes narrowed.
Lucan turned.
"Who ordered civilians expelled?"
Nobody answered.
"WHO?"
Several soldiers looked toward the fallen captain.
Lucan’s expression became murderous.
He drew his sword.
Arin caught his wrist.
The entire street froze.
Lucan looked at Arin’s hand.
"Release me."
"No."
"He condemned children to death."
"Yes."
"So move."
"No."
Lucan stared.
Arin’s grip tightened.
"Killing him fixes nothing."
"It prevents repetition."
"Fear prevents reporting."
Lucan’s eyes narrowed.
Arin looked toward the fallen captain.
"Remove him from command."
Then Lucan.
"Investigate who helped him."
"You don’t command my army."
"No."
Arin released his wrist.
"I’m telling you what I’d do."
Lucan slowly sheathed his sword.
The captain was dragged away.
For a moment, the brothers stood in silence.
Then Lucan looked around.
Really looked.
At the dry fountain.
The hungry civilians.
The exhausted soldiers.
The damaged buildings.
The water arriving from Arin’s city.
Something shifted in his expression.
"I had ten thousand people."
Arin said nothing.
"I thought if the army became strong enough, nothing could threaten them."
"And while building the army, you weakened everything the army protected."
Lucan laughed bitterly.
"You enjoy being correct."
"Very much."
Lucan looked at him.
Arin almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Lucan’s expression became serious.
"Why?"
Arin knew what he meant.
Why help?
Why risk the Trial?
Why give resources to a competitor?
Arin looked toward the people drinking water.
"Because I’m not interested in winning a city full of corpses."
"You could have ended Stage Two."
"I know."
"You would have received primary Founder recognition."
"Maybe."
"And you refused."
"Yes."
Lucan stared at him as if searching for deception.
Arin had none to offer.
"Don’t misunderstand," Arin said.
Lucan’s eyes narrowed.
"I’m not forgiving you."
"I didn’t ask."
"You threatened Lyra."
Lucan’s face became unreadable.
"You entered my home with armed men."
Silence.
"You tried to take control of the Warden."
Arin stepped closer.
"When this Trial ends, we are going to discuss all of that."
Lucan’s hand rested near his sword.
Arin did not care.
"But right now..."
He pointed toward the city.
"...your people need a Founder more than I need an enemy."
Lucan stared at him.
Then something appeared above both of them.
«LEGACY TRIAL UPDATE.
COMPETING CLAIMANTS HAVE ENTERED SHARED CIVILIZATION PHASE.
NEW OBJECTIVE:
STABILIZE COMBINED POPULATION.
TIME LIMIT:
72 HOURS.
TOTAL POPULATION:
19,558.
FAILURE CONDITION:
POPULATION BELOW 18,500.
SPECIAL CONDITION:
CLAIMANTS MAY COOPERATE.
CLAIMANTS MAY COMPETE.
CLAIMANTS MAY SABOTAGE.»
Lucan read the final line.
Then looked at Arin.
Arin looked back.
"Don’t."
Lucan raised an eyebrow.
"I didn’t say anything."
"You thought about it."
A reluctant smile appeared.
"Perhaps."
Arin turned toward Garrick.
"Get our engineers to the reservoir."
Then toward one of Lucan’s officers.
"How much grain remains?"
The man hesitated.
Lucan looked at him.
"Answer."
"Two days."
"Population?"
"Nine thousand five hundred and sixty-one."
Arin calculated.
Not enough.
"Any livestock?"
"Military horses."
Lucan’s head snapped around.
"No."
Arin looked at him.
"You’d rather people starve?"
"We need cavalry."
"You need food."
"We still have threats outside the walls."
"You have nineteen thousand people inside them."
Lucan stared.
Arin stared back.
Garrick quietly stepped away.
One officer whispered to another:
"Are they always like this?"
Garrick answered without looking back.
"I’ve known him five days."
A pause.
"Yes."
Arin pointed toward the military quarter.
"Reduce cavalry by half."
Lucan crossed his arms.
"One quarter."
"Half."
"One third."
"Half."
"You don’t negotiate."
"Correct."
Lucan stared at him.
"Forty percent."
Arin considered it.
"Fine."
Lucan exhaled.
"You’re insufferable."
"So I’ve been told."
Then a horn sounded.
Not a warning horn.
A gate signal.
Everyone turned toward the northern entrance.
A rider stumbled through.
His horse collapsed beneath him.
The scout rolled across the road.
Soldiers rushed forward.
The man struggled onto his knees.
"Lord Lucan!"
Lucan moved.
"What happened?"
The scout looked terrified.
"Something followed the Calamity."
Arin’s expression changed.
Lucan crouched.
"What?"
The scout swallowed.
"We thought the King was the strongest creature."
His hands were shaking.
"We were wrong."
A System warning appeared.
«SHARED CIVILIZATION EVENT DETECTED.
UNKNOWN ENTITY APPROACHING.
THREAT CLASSIFICATION:
UNAVAILABLE.»
Arin frowned.
Not Calamity.
Unavailable.
That was worse.
The warning continued.
«ENTITY IS NOT TARGETING EITHER SETTLEMENT.
ENTITY IS FOLLOWING THE DEAD KING’S SCENT.»
Lucan looked toward Arin.
Arin looked north.
Another line appeared.
«ESTIMATED ARRIVAL:
68 HOURS.»
Garrick read Arin’s expression.
"You’ve got that look again."
"What look?"
"The one you had before deciding we could kill a mountain."
Arin studied the map.
Two cities.
Nearly twenty thousand people.
Damaged infrastructure.
Limited food.
Two rival armies.
One unknown creature.
And seventy-two hours to stabilize everything.
Then sixty-eight hours until something worse arrived.
Arin rolled up his sleeves.
Lucan watched him.
"What are you doing?"
Arin started toward the reservoir.
"Working."
Lucan almost laughed.
"Again?"
Arin glanced back.
"You wanted to become Founder."
He pointed toward the starving city.
"Welcome to the job."