They crested the ridge outside Prairiehold just past noon the following day. From the ridge, the village spread out below them in a rough half-circle of timber walls and a patchwork of pre-and-post cataclysmic buildings.

  The sky split wide with bands of sunlight pushing through a layer of thinning cloud. The rain and sleet had stopped, but the aftermath of mud and pooling water was still there.

  The first thing Xander noticed wasn’t the gate, or the patrols, or the smell of smoke. It was the team's posture. Zoey had already gone still, her weight balanced on her heels, binoculars raised. She tracked movement just beyond the nearest treeline, then handed the scope to Jo.

  "We’ve got returning patrols," she said. "Three squads minimum. One’s coming in from the east, another from the hills behind the farms, and the last just popped out of the grain corridor. They’re spread way too far to be on the same route."

  Jo swept the glass across the horizon, brow tightening. "Too far out to be overlapping coverage. That almost looks like a defensive screen."

  Blake stepped up beside them, his face showing an uneasy frown. "That’s Eli’s squad. And Carla behind them. Neither was scheduled to be out. Both of them were off duty when we left."

  "You’re sure?" Xander asked, though the answer was already obvious.

  Blake nodded. "I’m sure. They weren’t even in armor. They’d pulled back for rest rotations."

  Kane and Ford both came to stand close to Xander.

  Xander didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. Everyone already knew something was off between the movements below and the icy knot settling beneath their ribs.

  Then the wind shifted, and the smell hit.

  "Smoke," Jo said. "That smells acidic. Not a chimney fire."

  Xander didn’t see any flames, but the haze was unmistakable. It was thin and drifting just above the rooftops in oily sheets. It didn’t rise in steady columns like cookfire smoke but hovered and blanketed the area.

  Jo pulled the binoculars tighter against her face. "Southern side of Prairiehold, maybe?"

  "Could be worse," Zoey said. "Doesn’t look like it is a large section of the town. Just a building or two. Not great, but still."

  "No breach on the outer wall that I can see. Nothing out-of-place beyond the gate." Jo said.

  Xander took that in, then pointed toward the ramparts. "There. Runners. Two on the northern pass, one heading back to the central tower. And those heads on the wall?"

  "Double posted," Jo confirmed.

  "That’s not routine." Blake said.

  The gate wasn’t fully closed, but the crowd outside it wasn’t moving either. Everyone was being questioned and checked. Which Xander found extremely odd, since outsiders weren't allowed in Prairiehold to begin with.

  Ford moved up beside him. "They’re not under siege," he said. "That’s not what this is."

  "No," Xander said. "This looks like the aftermath of something. Let's keep moving."

  A checkpoint met them half a mile out, just before the last bend that led to the main gates. Not a permanent fixture, just a hastily constructed barrier of iron posts and wagons. Three guard squads stood behind it in tight formation, each running full gear with crossbows slung high and hands resting too close to triggers.

  They weren’t waving people through.

  They were pulling them aside.

  "Identification," one guard called out.

  Blake stepped forward, voice steady but clipped. "Guard Blake Schiller, back from recon. These five are with me. We’ve got intel that needs to go straight to command..."

  The guard didn’t blink. "Hi Blake, good to see you back. To the side, please."

  Blake frowned. "What's going on? You know me. These people just went looking for some of our missing people and fought off an attack. They’ve got firsthand..."

  "I said, to the side. You’ll be processed once cleared. Come on, Blake, don't bust my chops. A lot has happened since you left."

  A few heads in the crowd turned. One or two expressions lingered too long before sliding away. Xander felt Jo shift slightly beside him and move in closer.

  "They’re jumpy," she whispered. "Something kicked their confidence sideways."

  The guard’s tone hadn’t been angry. It was worse. Flat. Like the wind had been knocked out of him, and he had already admitted defeat. Now was just going through the motions.

  A runner peeled off toward the main compound, no doubt sent to fetch the Deacon, and with it came the low grumble of the waiting crowd. No one was losing their temper, but the tension moved beneath the surface as people lost their patience.

  Xander could overhear snippets of conversation as the team waited for the Deacon to arrive.

  "…It happened inside the walls…"

  "…They’re locking down the rations now. My sister said they closed the whole..."

  "…someone opened the gates. That’s the only way it makes sense..."

  "…they say someone inside unlocked the grain vaults."

  No one agreed, but no one was arguing over the details either.

  Xander glanced at his team.

  Jo had taken two steps back and to the left, casually angling her position to keep the crowd in her periphery. Kane mirrored the move, stepping just far enough to anchor their flanks while still looking relaxed. Ford had drifted behind them, not quite retreating but already preparing for a cast if things went bad. Blake, meanwhile, paced quietly near the edge of the inspection line, clearly wrestling between authority and frustration.

  Zoey hadn’t moved.

  She was watching someone across the lane. A young man with leather armor under a gray jacket that didn't look like the rough-crafted armor worn by the guards. The man wasn’t looking at the gates or the guards. Instead, he was watching Xander and the rest of the team.

  "Gray coat," she said quietly. "Third row. He was hanging around when we were in the community building. Didn't talk to us, but he talked to the guards assigned to us."

  Xander didn’t look directly. "Stands out too much to be a spy."

  "True, but he's way too interested in us. I don't like it."

  "Not going to disagree. Keep an eye on him, but we have bigger immediate problems."

  A commotion broke out near the front of the line.

  "I’ve got to get back to my kids," a man said, his voice raw with desperation. "This isn't how our community works!"

  "Step back," the guard replied.

  "I just need to get in…"

  The guard shoved the man back, causing him to stumble into the crowd before crying. The crowd was getting agitated, and for the life of Xander, he couldn't quite understand what was going on. Prairiehold was a closed community, and everyone knew everyone. This isn't how they normally acted toward their own.

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  Jo nudged him with her elbow and gave a small tilt of her head toward the gate. Xander followed her line of sight just as a cart rolled through the main entrance, its wheels dragging slowly over packed earth. Two robed figures walked beside it, clerics by the look of their robes and the faint shimmer of healing magic still clinging to their hands. A third figure limped alongside, wrapped in soot-streaked bandages, while another moved stiffly with one arm held tight in a rough sling. But it was the cart that held his attention. The sheet covering the body had been thrown on hastily, and from beneath its edge, an arm hung limp and exposed. The skin was blistered and blackened, curled back in deep patches.

  Whoever it was, they were already gone.

  Ford said it first. "This wasn’t just a fire."

  Xander nodded. "No. This almost looks like the sabotage attack that happened before we went on the train expedition."

  Putting it all together, Xander figured there had been an event outside the walls that had been showy. Something meant to draw attention. Then something happened inside the safe zone. Something meant to make people afraid of their neighbors.

  [Crusader's Righteousness] You gain a general sense that a goal is in the southeast direction.

  He turned toward the direction gates again, directly toward the center of the safe zone where his Crusader's Righteousness was pointing. They may have missed the opening moves, but it didn't look like the cult's business in Prairiehold was over yet.

  What Xander found odd was that earlier Crusader's Righteousness had not indicated that his targets were inside Prariehold. Was this a recent change or some quirk of the skill to point toward what it felt was the next step in discovery.

  Xander didn’t move from where he stood, boots planted just off the center of the checkpoint lane. The crowd had thinned around them the longer they waited, enough that it was obvious who wasn’t being let through. The guards still had said nothing else, but they kept watching everything the team did.

  No one had told them to leave.

  They were just left waiting.

  The appearance of the deacon broke the standoff as he emerged from the gate. Several guards followed in his wake.

  He wasn’t wearing his formal robes this time. Just a worn tunic with the sleeves rolled to the elbows and soot clinging to the hem. His shoulders were tight, and he had large bags under his eyes. He looked like a man who had been awake too long, but who knew there was more waiting on the other side of the next conversation.

  The guards shifted immediately, posture softening, as if they were happy that someone had finally come out to deal with the situation. But none of them dismissed Xander’s team from their place at the side.

  Jo stepped in slightly closer to Xander’s right. She didn’t need to say anything. He already knew her read matched his.

  Blake took a breath and stepped forward, not quite blocking the others but putting himself in front. His tone was measured, but the weight behind it came through.

  "Deacon. What happened?" he asked. "We saw the smoke on approach, and we’ve been hearing rumors since we got here. People say something happened inside the walls. Are the families all right? The something about rations…"

  The Deacon held up a hand. "Blake, I’m not answering questions right now."

  His voice wasn’t angry. Nor was it dismissive, but clearly set the tone for the conversation. It seemed the Deacon was going to get his questions answered before giving out any information of their own.

  Blake hesitated. He started to speak again but stopped himself, jaw tightening as he gave a shallow nod and stepped back into formation.

  The Deacon turned, gaze settling on Xander.

  "You were sent to look into the missing scouts," he said. "Let's start there. Can you tell me anything?"

  Xander met his eyes. "We found them."

  "I assumed as much. You’re standing here."

  The Deacon didn’t glance at the rest of the group. His attention remained locked, making it clear this wasn’t a team discussion. This was a ledger being balanced.

  "You left town. The same day we were hit," the Deacon said. "An external assault followed by internal sabotage. Coincidence is a luxury we don’t afford here."

  The guard behind him adjusted his grip on a halberd, not in aggression, but enough to make it clear that the comment hadn’t gone unheard.

  Xander didn’t flinch. The Deacon had just answered the biggest question of all after saying he wouldn’t answer anything, but Xander let it go. The man looked half a breath from falling over, and it didn’t feel like he had any energy left for games.

  "Then let’s get to it. Because we’ve got answers, and if this is going to turn into another Saint Joseph, I’d rather skip the part where we get shouted off the street for trying to help."

  He did not raise his voice, and he directed the last part more toward Zoey than the Deacon. The Deacon wouldn't have known the events that took place in Saint Joseph, but just as the Deacon was exhausted and in no mood to play games, so too was Xander.

  "We found the scouts. Two of them, dead in an admin building near the abandoned grain depot. Two mechanical security golems were in the area. We tracked movement to a nearby storage barn, found two more scouts, then engaged hostiles in close quarters. The place had been stripped clean. Only thing left were cult operatives and a repurposed war-grade golem running defense."

  That got a reaction. Not from the Deacon, but from one of the guards. A sharp breath, quickly buried.

  Xander kept going.

  "The attack was staged. They were delaying us long enough to escape with whatever they had taken from the barn and to prevent us from getting back here. That last part is conjecture on my part."

  The Deacon said nothing.

  "We killed the construct, recovered what we could from the site, and after losing signs of exfiltration, made our way back toward Prairiehold. The cultists made some interesting claims about their work in Prairiehold, however..."

  He let the weight of that hang for a moment, then finished.

  "The scouts were used as bait. Not for my team specifically, but to pull Prairiehold out of the walls and draw attention away from what was happening inside. They knew their routes and were to stage the ambush. I'm going to make a leap of faith that they knew food stores were already an issue as well."

  The checkpoint was silent. Even the crowd remaining nearby had quieted.

  "This isn’t the first time we’ve seen this pattern. Saint Joseph was dismantled from within when the cult failed to flip control. Starlight wasn’t destroyed, but it’s still recovering after the sabotage attempt. And now Prairiehold is showing the same signs."

  He let that settle in. Then glanced toward the guards, toward the shifting feet and wary eyes.

  "They don’t need to win a war if they can just set the board on fire."

  A new window flared into Xander’s field of view.

  The Grain Road Vanishing

  Quest Completion! The missing Prairiehold scouts have been located, and Prairiehold has been informed of their fate. While the outcome was not the one hoped for, uncertainty has been removed, and the truth is now known. Prairiehold can mourn, rather than search. However, your investigation has revealed a larger problem.

  Difficulty: Moderate*

  Rewards: 200 Gold, Experience, Standing with Prairiehold, Sanctified Core Fragment

  *Difficulty increased due to the addition of a Warframe Construct. Rewards adjusted accordingly.

  He closed the prompt without looking further, even though he desperately wanted to see what a Sanctified Core Fragment was. Now wasn't the time for a distraction, as the Deacon blinked once and then looked down at the far edge of his vision.

  It was the telltale giveaway that the Deacon had a quest, too.

  The older man took a slow, exasperated breath and stood still for a moment.

  Then he nodded.

  "Alright."

  He didn’t argue. Didn’t ask how the cult could have gotten inside. That silence, in its own way, was confirmation. He already suspected. Probably more than he was letting on.

  "You’ll come with me," the Deacon said. "To see the Bishop."

  Jo shifted slightly beside Xander. He didn’t look at her, but he knew she was still watching the crowd, still tracking the gray-coated observer Zoey had flagged earlier.

  The Deacon continued.

  "I’m not giving you trust. Not yet. But I’m not blind to experience. We need someone who’s not embedded in local politics. Who hasn’t picked a side."

  He looked back at Blake briefly, then returned to Xander.

  "Consider this provisional. I’ll vouch for you. Which means if this goes bad, it’s my name on the line. You understand?"

  "Understood," Xander said.

  There it was. Sides. Not just policies or disagreements, but actual faction lines. The kind polite people didn’t talk about unless they were already drawing them in private. He’d figured as much from the edge in the guards’ voices and the way the checkpoint tension never quite settled, but hearing it out loud confirmed what the Deacon hadn’t meant to say. Prairiehold wasn’t united. Not really.

  Strict doctrine worked right until the world changed. Then the Simulation kicked down the barn door, soaked everything in gasoline, and threw a match on it as the AI walked away laughing.

  He kept that thought to himself.

  No point in stating the obvious to someone already barely holding the cracks together with both hands.

  "You stay close. You don’t act unless I tell you. You don’t speak to the public. You don’t enforce anything. You observe and quietly advise. Got it?"

  Xander gave a single nod.

  The Deacon turned to the guards. "Open the gate. They’re coming in with me."

  No one moved for a moment. Then they stood back, one by one, and the path opened.

  As the team filed in behind the Deacon, Xander took a moment to look at the item he had received as the bonus to the quest completion.

  Sanctified Core Fragment

  Quality: Rare

  Description: A fractured relic from an age of forgotten wars, this core fragment hums faintly with buried intent. Forged not for conquest, but for crusade, its shape holds the lingering imprint of a cause greater than any one soldier. Divine magic saturates the material, too dense and too old to be shaped by common means. It resists conventional enchantment, waiting instead for the hand of a Crusader to define its next purpose.

  Warning: This crafting material is usable only by characters with [Divine Forge Mastery] or [Sanctified Smithwork] abilities.

  Xander let the flap on his belt pouch fall shut over the core fragment, the faint hum of divine magic still whispering at the edge of his perception. He’d need forge time later. Sacred metal didn’t fix broken towns, and Prairiehold would not hold together on faith and habit alone.

  He glanced up at the gate as it groaned open, then past it, into the heart of the safe zone.

  From the outside, Prairiehold still looked solid. Walls intact. Guards alert. A place with rules and structure. But now he knew better. The cracks weren’t on the perimeter. They were inside, running deep beneath the doctrine and tradition that had once held the place together.

  Whatever had hit them hadn’t come to knock the walls down. It had come to tear the town apart from within.

  And from the feel of it, it was working.

  They stepped forward together as the Deacon led them in, the checkpoint falling behind.

  If they didn’t find the rot fast, Prairiehold wouldn’t be here the next time someone came looking.

  And next time, there wouldn’t be a crusade coming to help.