It was embarrassing to think about...
But now that I put my whole body and mind into it over the last couple of days...
I kind of liked logistics.
Not just the theory of it, which endeavored to reduce a web of endless complexity and moving parts to simple organisation charts and resource allocation diagrams.
I genuinely ended up liking its convoluted and challenging practical implementations in a reality ruled by conflicting interests and unpredictability.
At its core, logistics was plainly about ensuring that the right resources reached the right place, at the right time, in the right condition.
But once my studies went just a bit deeper than the primers, it became the most evident of things that this broad and unwieldy principle ought to be split up into multiple more "manageable" sub-principles.
Thus were introduced the seven sub-principles of logistics.
Procurement.
Acquiring what was needed.
Storage.
Holding and preserving resources.
Transportation.
Moving resources where they were needed.
Distribution.
Allocating them efficiently.
Maintenance.
Keeping equipment and systems operational.
Coordination.
Synchronizing all moving parts.
Sustainment.
Ensuring continuity over time.
From there, just like any other Seeker fields, once I grasped the rationale behind how logistics knowledge was transcribed into books, it all became one grand studying [Exertion].
And this grand studying [Exertion] ultimately led me to uncover how incorrect and misplaced my initial assumptions about logistics were.
Beyond that, if I wasn't overestimating the importance that logistics played in all of Civilization, then much like healing, fighting, or Essence development, fields in which [Guided] offered me drastic advantages in one form of synergy or another...
Logistics may well turn out to be one of the most wondrous tools I could have asked for.
For I could do it all by myself.
So long as I had most of the information available, or even just the important bits and pieces, like where something was picked up, what this something was, how long it took to transport, where it was stored...
So long as I properly made use of measurement unit equivalences, like one hundred and twenty-eight grams being equal to one kilogram, or one thousand twenty-four meters equaling one kilometer...
Then, helped by [Guided], I could readily derive most of the missing pieces of information.
Whether it concerned the transportation of mundane metal scraps, the distribution of paste supplies, the delivery of critical information, or the restoration of Sentinel gear.
Logistics mandated that everything had an origin point, a destination, a method of transportation, a weight, a volume, an itinerary, a transportation difficulty, a transportation time, an escort requirement...
For that reason, theoretically, so long as something didn't match up, like metal ores being sent to a storage facility instead of directly towards an ore refining facility, when it was clearly indicated that the Faith had been preparing to send material aid to a Sector having difficulty containing a corrupted Realm...
If one followed the logistical chain from beginning to end, everything had an answer.
Everything.
Be it poor planning when needs and constraints failed to be anticipated.
Underestimation when quantities, time, or distance failed to be accurately judged.
Overextension when resources were stretched beyond their sustainable limits.
Misallocation when resources were sent to the wrong place.
Delay when deliveries failed to meet the required time.
Congestion when the flow of resources came to a halt.
Breakdown when maintenance of equipment and systems was neglected.
Miscoordination when the synchronization between transportation, storage, and distribution failed.
Waste when loss, spoilage, or inefficiency occurred.
Communication failure when information was transmitted incompletely or incorrectly.
Or even corruption, when resources were diverted for personal gain...
Nothing that wasn't perfectly executed could hope to lead an entire logistics operation astray.
And nothing was ever perfectly executed.
Everything left traces.
The absence of information itself was something the practical logistics exercises I did insisted was more often than not the most incriminating evidence of something having gone wrong.
That was why [Guided] stood Stratas above this field in terms of compatibility compared to others.
Because [Guided] never forgot.
Thus, all I was required to do to leverage this massive synergy was to understand all the intricacies and convoluteness of logistics, so that I never failed to hand [Guided] all the different kinds of information it necessitated.
If I did that correctly, if I correctly grasped all the variables of a practical situation...
As yet, [Guided] never allowed me to reach a wrong conclusion on even the most nonsensical cases inspired by "real events" I strongly suspected could not actually be real.
They were too far-fetched... weren't they?
In conclusion, in view of its limitless potential to decipher a tangible facet of Civilization, I kind of liked logistics.
Aspect Advanced: [Tempering] (Tier 1) ➞ [Tempering] (Tier 2)
Neither too early nor too late, my [Tempering] Aspect ended its advancement to Tier 2, prompting me to enter the deepest state of communion I could manage.
How much my early Essence overdevelopment disorder had worsened compared to merely three days ago was staggeringly obvious.
Whereas prior, my Essence had nearly returned to its expected natural and placid state, with only the occasional depressions indicating places where my Essence was pushing against its bounds due to inward overdevelopment, now...
Aspect Advanced: [Perception] (Tier 1) ➞ [Perception] (Tier 2)
Vast swaths of it curved inwards, distorting its equilibrium enough to cause light secondary disorders.
That... nearly didn't qualify as an early Essence overdevelopment disorder anymore.
"Ahhh..." I took a deep breath, momentarily surprising myself that I was breathing biologically, but that only caused my subsequent sigh to grow heavier.
All these months spent undergoing a torturously sluggish anti-overdevelopment [Exertion] routine, only for my overdevelopment disorder to end up in a worse state than when I started to address it...
Disappointing.
Frustrating.
If during that period of time I had given it my all instead...
"Ahhh..." I sighed again.
At least I still had [Guided].
[Guided] (Origin)[Exertion] (Tier 2)[Cycle] (Tier 2)[Insight] (Tier 2)[Perception] (Tier 2)[Tempering] (Tier 2)[Darkness] (Tier 1)[Will] (Tier 2)[Focus] (Tier 1)
And if I believed the common consensus about how Origin Aspect developed according to one's overall Essence development, [Guided] had only become better with my [Perception] and [Tempering] Aspects advancing to Tier 2.
Better in what way? Ways?
Absolutely no idea.
There were a select few books about the [Guide] and [Guidance] Aspects, but none about the [Guided] Aspect, so all the [Insight]s I had on it originated from my own experiences with it as my Origin Aspect.
Even then, my [Insight]s were few and far between.
After all, for me, studying [Guided] felt like asking someone born blind to study blindness.
I was born [Guided].
I was [Guided] to be born.
Others were simply unable to comprehend how intimately my life was entwined with my Origin Aspect.
I never experienced life un[Guided].
The most distant I ever got from [Guided] was when I relegated it to a background presence that served more as a tutor than a guide.
That's why even when I earnestly sought to compare my [Guided] existence with that of others who, horrifyingly, only had themselves to chart their Path through reality...
I couldn't do it.
[Guided] was [Guided].
I was me.
[Guided] was me.
I was [Guided].
Regardless of how deep I communed with my Essence to find where "[Guided]" ended and "I" began, there was purely nothing to be found.
As it ought to be for an Origin Essence Entity.
In the meantime, only my [Darkness] and [Focus] Aspects, who had yet to advance to Tier 2, threatened to uncontrollably worsen my Essence overdevelopment disorder.
For all I could succinctly stop developing my Essence by lazing around; all it would take for my [Darkness] Aspect to advance and cause an Aspect advancement disorder, forcefully developing my Essence, was one mistimed [Insight].
Not that there was anything I could do about those worries beyond... breaking months' worth of ingrained [Secrecy] habits.
That wasn't happening.
And it wasn't even like successfully synthesizing the [Secrecy] and [Clarity] Aspects would save me from my Essence incurring a surge of development...
I was so increasingly close to being damned.
I hoped this time it would be my hair that took the brunt of the Essence mutation by becoming fully iridescent instead of its current pale opalescent...
◇ ◈ ◈ ◆ ◆ ◆ ◈ ◈ ◇
"Ah, Solaena. Perfect." Trius called for me the instant I stepped into the infirmary for my daily Essence [Assessment], aides buzzing about as if to get the infirmary ready for something. "Want to join the relief detail the Faith is sending to the returning expedition force?"
"What?" The word escaped me before I could get a hold of it.
"The expedition force is still two weeks away from the Nexus Realm rift, according to the scout they sent ahead of them. They have many injured, though, which is why the Faith is upping the initial escort detail to a full-on relief detail," he explained.
While he explained, he also opened a cabinet, grabbing some things inside to throw at one of his aides, which packed them in a massive standard Sentinel backpack.
"The last leg of any long journey is always the worst, right? Imagine that with a wing and a leg cut off," he depicted, inspiring some modicum of empathy in me. "So... want to take your first dip in the Red Sand Realm, fleeting as it might be?"
"I wouldn't call a two-week-away relief effort fleeting..." I mumbled, my mind split between agreeing and refusing.
My Essence continued to linger dangerously close to entering a state of overdevelopment...
But at the same time, I already spent half a month doing nothing but reading, eating, chatting, and sleeping...
So I was probably in the clear for as short-lived an opportunity as taking part in a relief detail sent to the Red Sand Realm was, wasn't I?
I made up my mind.
"Where do I register? Is it a Sentinel assignment?" I asked.
"I'm just wrapping up things here... that too, just has to make sure we bring plenty of hydrated paste..."
My question was left pending as Trius finished rifling through the infirmary cabinets, pulling medical supplies until the aide struggled to pack them all.
"Alright." His ruffling only ended once he went through an additional two cabinets. "The relief detail should be departing in thirty or so minutes. Go put on your Sentinel equipment and join us afterwards. We're located riftward."
Once he provided me with these basic instructions, Trius shortly forgot about my existence, and with an eyeroll that betrayed my familiarity with this infuriating Ninak, I turned around and took off towards the Sentinel armory.
As I hadn't expected my first foray into another realm to take place today, my bodysuit was the relaxed Sentinel-unworthy kind, forcing me to strip everything off.
It was a necessary bother.
When it came to my backpack, I figured that either on the journey there or on the journey back, I might be asked to help transport small things, so I emptied it of all the paste snacks and miscellaneous clutter I had accumulated and couldn't be bothered to clear out.
Honestly, it felt weird to suddenly find myself in full Sentinel getup when I should have been making idle small talk around a book addressing one cryptic logistics case or another.
Not that this sudden turn of events compared in any way, shape, or form to the ceiling abruptly deciding to collapse and ripping apart everything I had ever known.
With nothing else to do and a dozen minutes having already passed since Trius told me the relief detail was departing in thirty or so minutes, I took off towards the riftward part of the Prime Temple, the one that opened onto a straight street leading to the Red Sand Realm rift.
To avoid any possible congestion issues, I took an early turn and used a series of fairly-sized passages and a few sleek door openings to end up directly outside, where I rejoined the exact same place the Faith once used to launch an orderly expedition force.
Apparently, the relief detail wasn't constrained by the same need for order, as it was an absolute mess of backpacks being handed over to more or less willing carriers before they were sent to wait disorderly, the leadership having their priority in strict orders.
The relief details only amounted to forty or so people, unlike the four hundred that made up the expedition force; thus, I easily understood why getting things moving was more important than giving the visual impression of organization.
Everyone here knew why they were here and what they were expected to do, after all.
Or so I supposed.
It was plausible my recent logistics studies had scrambled my brain a bit...
A relief detail was just that, though.
A non-emergency dispatch of personnel and supplies intended to relieve an active force, be it through reinforcing its position or ensuring the continuity of its operations.
Here, we were allegedly sent to relieve the expedition force that was substantially slowed down by both their injured and the harvested resources they were transporting back.
As such, the constraints we were operating under were mainly speed-related, as our main objective was to restore the mobility of the expedition force, not slow them down further or relieve them when they were merely hours away from the Nexus Realm rift.
Easy in theory.
In practice...
“…check the roster. Who’s still missing?”
“…we were meant to be assembled ten minutes ago.”
“…strap it tight, you’ll regret it the moment we start marching.”
“…count again. I want exact numbers, not guesses.”
“…we’re still short on hydrated paste!”
“…check your gear now! Not halfway into the Red Sand Realm!”
In practice, haste made waste, and it was discernible that not everyone here knew that departing ten minutes early or late wouldn't change much.
I wondered if I should get some logistics practice out of this provocative mess, but it was clear enough that the leadership had things well in hand, so I eventually joined the readied carriers to start dispensing some pointless wisdom while making my presence known.
Ten or so minutes later, with all the backpacks having been handed over and all the important personnel having seemingly been accounted for, things got progressively quieter, a faint tension installing itself.
"Order!" A female Elynd—characterized by her squarish facial features and extremely pale skin tone—I vaguely recognized from my past times on the Sentinel training grounds, shouted.
“For those who do not know me, I am Knight Thalor. I will be the one in command of this relief detail until it merges with the expedition force."
"As you can probably all guess, we don’t have the luxury of time. The expedition force we’re moving to relieve is two weeks out, and every hour we waste here is one they spend waiting, injured and exposed."
"We will move fast. Faster than standard. We will take only the rest we must, no more. Pace will be steady, disciplined, and unbroken."
"You will manage your strength, your water, and your footing. No one falls behind, no one breaks formation."
"We move now,” she finished, but I remained locked on her Sentinel rank.
Knight.
The Sentinel rank equivalent to Lorekeeper for Seeker.
One rank above Guardian, which corresponded to Archivist for Seeker.
Two ranks above Warrior, or Scribe for Seeker.
Three ranks above Initiate, or Acolyte for Seeker.
Not that the two Paths could really be compared in view of the fact that they were so different, but all the same...
Damn.
I regularly got to talk with Seeker Lorekeepers, as there were a small dozen of them routinely frequenting the sanctuary, but Sentinel Knights?
I only ever glimpsed them on the training grounds, never successfully acquainting myself with any.
Also, from what I gathered, there were only four individuals who had been granted that rank here in the Faith's branch of Red Sand Rift City, and one had already gone with the expedition force.
Of course, I had long learned about how the Faith authorized the dispensation of local-adjusted ranks to complete its hierarchy, so I knew there was almost no chance this wasn’t a local rank like the Magister rank—which was four ranks above Acolyte—that Magister Eliott earned...
Nevertheless, it should still have been granted based on serious considerations that no average Guardian could have hoped to meet.
That meant Knight Thalor was an actual local powerhouse, as the Sentinel rank that came after that was Champion, and only extraordinary circumstances would ever prompt the Faith to dispense such a rank locally.
I definitely had to find an opportunity to chat with her later.
The relief detail finally departing, I found Trius surrounded by three other certified healers, whom I was expectedly already acquainted with, and joined them, making for a five-healer-strong gathering.
"Hello, everyone. Thanks for the invitation, Trius," I first thanked Trius, as he could have totally not spoken about this relief detail, and I wouldn't have known anything, simply receiving my daily Essence [Assessment] before returning to the sanctuary to resume being idle.
"Hello, Solaena. I was wondering when you would join us."
"Greetings. From what I heard, we won't find your presence redundant."
"Thirty crippled, a hundred heavily injured, and the entire force having been exposed to some manner of weakening radiation, they said."
"No need to thank me." Trius waved my gratitude off, as aloof as ever. "It's an opportunity like any other. You did plenty of Sentinel assignments more difficult than this."
"I wouldn't say my first time entering another Realm accompanied by a Knight is an opportunity like any other. My Essence overdevelopment be damned, could you imagine if I had missed it? I would be so pissed..."
With nothing better to do than idly chatting as the relief detail exited the perimeter of the Prime Temple and traced its way straight for the Red Sand Realm rift, I swiftly got a less vague picture of the rationale behind this relief detail.
It was simply astute risk management.
The expedition force, as of a last report dating thirty or so hours ago, remained fully capable of dealing with all that could hypothetically threaten them, from sandstorms to elementals to even bandits.
But the reality was that the entire force had been exposed to something, leaving no one except the top leadership in perfect conditions, as healing the unknown radiation exposure drained the healers to the point they were forced to triage it as low-priority healing.
It meant that, on paper, in conformity with Sentinel protocols, the expedition force was nearly entirely compromised, as exaggerated as that statement sounded.
Hence, because it was protocolly warranted, and also because the expedition force necessitated one anyway, the initial escort detail initially intended to be dispatched was upgraded to a relief detail.
Sentinel protocols at their finest, if I dared to say.
By the time I finished hearing about everything our little healer gathering knew, the relief detail was quickly approaching the outermost boundary of the Red Sand Realm rift, one symbolized by gargantuan warehouses on the fifty-eight floor.
We passed everything by at an expeditious pace that, if I were unable to fly, I would have to half-run to keep up with.
I could fly, though, so rather than keeping up pace, it was more a matter of slowing down.
An hour later, rows of harvesting towers rose to obscure the not-so-distant-anymore rift’s radiant crimson glow.
Red sand began to dust the metal ground, creaking under the boots of the giants, and the heat kept on mounting as we pressed on beneath ever-louder, red-tinted airstreams.
Eventually, we passed the guarding wall of harvesting towers, and the ethereal rift unveiled itself to our eyes in all its [Perception]-warping glory.