The clan headquarters was no longer a place.
It was a compromise.
The original structure still existed, but it had been reinforced with layers of matter I didn't recognize from the game. It didn't feel built. It felt… permitted.
Abyss allowed it.
Splenti stopped at the center of the hall.
I hadn't stopped watching her.
Not because I distrusted her.
Because she didn't drift.
Everything else I had seen in Abyss adjusted constantly the terrain, creatures, even people. Splenti didn't. She held her shape, her presence, like the world had already decided what to do with her.
"Do you want to test it?" she asked, without turning.
Dim sighed softly. Carmine scratched the back of his neck.
Kata tall, broad-shouldered, silent as always shifted his weight and leaned against a pillar.
I stepped forward.
"Test what?"
Splenti finally looked at me.
"Authority," she said. "Yours. Mine."
I processed the word.
Not a skill.
Not a stat.
"Is that something I'm supposed to have?" I asked.
Dim snorted. "You really did come in blind."
Splenti raised a hand. He stopped.
"You already have it," she said to me. "You just don't know how it's being resolved."
I exhaled once.
"Then show me."
No countdown.
No warning.
I moved.
My blade cut forward in a clean arc controlled, deliberate. Fast enough to matter, restrained enough to stop.
Splenti didn't dodge.
She stepped closer.
That was wrong.
Her fingers tapped the flat of my blade.
Not hard.
Exact.
For a fraction of a second, the strike still existed.
Then it didn't.
The ground beneath her feet darkened. Thin lines spread outward, geometric and temporary, like a grid flickering into place.
Not magic.
A local authority field.
A System construct.
Something Abyss used to decide which action mattered first.
My blade froze.
Not blocked.
Late.
[Local Authority Detected]
I let out a slow breath.
She hadn't overpowered me.
She hadn't cancelled my move.
She had acted in a way Abyss resolved before mine.
Splenti stepped back. The grid vanished.
"That's enough."
The pressure disappeared instantly, leaving my arm heavy, like it had been pushing against invisible resistance.
I looked at her.
"So you didn't suppress me," I said. "You reordered me."
A faint smile. "Good. You felt it."
I glanced at the others.
None of them looked surprised.
"How long have you known about this?" I asked.
"Long enough," Kata replied calmly.
Carmine shrugged. "Long enough to stop asking questions."
That earned him a look from Splenti.
We moved deeper into the structure, into what used to be the clan hall.
Now it felt… grown.
Marks covered the walls, layered over older ones, overwritten so many times the stone itself seemed to remember them. A large table stood at the center, cracked, repaired, then cracked again.
I rested a hand on it.
"Abyss did all this?" I asked.
Splenti shook her head. "No. People did."
"Then Abyss reacted," I said.
Dim looked at me sideways. "You catch on fast."
I frowned. "So it's not random."
"No," Splenti said. "It's consistent."
"Based on what?"
She didn't answer immediately.
I pushed. "Power? Levels? Skills?"
Her eyes met mine.
"Deviation."
I waited.
"When someone survives in a way Abyss didn't predict," she continued, "it takes note."
"So corruption is - what?" I asked. "Punishment?"
Kata answered this time. "Alignment."
Carmine crossed his arms. "Resist it too hard, you break. Accept it completely, you disappear."
"And the middle?" I asked.
Splenti's gaze sharpened.
"Anomalies."
The word settled heavier than it should have.
I nodded slowly.
"And leaders?"
Splenti's hand tapped the table once.
"Abyss doesn't create them," she said. "It tolerates them."
Silence followed.
I realized something then.
Everyone here had already adjusted their thinking.
Everyone except me.
I looked at Splenti.
"And me?"
She studied me carefully.
"You," she said, "were transported farther than anyone else."
Dim stiffened. Kata straightened.
"That wasn't coincidence," she continued. "Abyss doesn't scatter assets without reason."
I processed the statement.
No fear.
No panic.
Just recalibration.
"Meaning?" I asked.
Splenti's expression softened not kindly, but precisely.
"Meaning you weren't meant to find us again."
That should have bothered me.
Instead, my thoughts aligned.
Threat assessment.
Probability curves.
Acceptable loss.
The absence of fear felt efficient.
And that scared me more than Abyss ever had.
Because Abyss hadn't stopped me.
It had simply learned how to resolve me.