Chapter 340: The Team
Building 3, Sector B, was not a challenge to localize.
The yellow lantern at the entrance was triple the size Eric had projected,
hanging from the central beam of the porch. The paper casing bore a singular
Imperial character, "運" (Ops), written in a broad, aggressive stroke—as if
someone had dipped a broom in ink and delivered a high-velocity strike to the
lantern.
The portal was open.
The sound of moving freight echoed from within—not a loud noise, but a dense,
frantic rhythm. Eric stepped inside. The first level was an open hall, cluttered
with stacks of unsealed logistics crates. In the corner, a row of folding tables
leaned against the wall; two had already been deployed, topped with piles of
blank forms and a recording crystal.
The stairs were to his right. He ascended to the second level, reaching the end
of a corridor where a door stood ajar. A note was pinned to the wood, the script
small, precise, and orderly: OPERATIONS GROUP.
The handwriting was a total mismatch for the brute force of the lantern
downstairs.
He rapped his knuckles against the door twice.
"Enter."
The voice wasn't loud, but it possessed a slight rasp—female.
Eric pushed through. The room was modest in volume, with a massive desk
occupying nearly a third of the floor space. Sprawled across the surface were
several unfurled blueprints and two towers of files. A desk lamp burned in the
corner, its shade slightly crooked, casting a biased pool of light onto the ink.
Seated behind the desk was an Elf.
She didn't appear young, yet she lacked the marks of age. Her features were lean
and efficient, her hair tied back in a sharp queue, and her sleeves were rolled
up to mid-forearm. The musculature of her leading arm was well-defined,
indicating a background in active duty. She clutched a pen in her right hand
while her left pinned a document to the desk. She looked up at him, her gaze a
clinical audit.
"Recruitment letter."
The same two syllables the skeleton at the array had used. Eric handed the
envelope over.
She took it but didn't audit the contents immediately. She set her pen down,
flipped her current document to a blank page, and then unfurled the parchment,
her eyes performing a high-speed scan of the data.
"Eric. Information Consolidation Unit."
She recited the name with a flat tone, performing a verification check.
"Evernight Academy graduate. Primary: Magical Information Consolidation. Minor:
Communications."
She folded the letter, set it in a designated corner, and lifted her head.
"I am Grace, Leader of the Operations Group. You address me as 'Leader'."
She didn't stand, nor did she offer a hand. She simply performed a predatory
sweep of Eric from skull to boots—velocity high, but Eric felt her eyes linger
on key coordinates: the collar, the cuffs, the soles of his shoes, and his
hands.
"You are the third unit to report today. The previous two have already localized
their stations to begin data-sorting. Your station is localized in the sector
across the hall. Second desk by the window."
She unlatched a drawer and extracted a cloth bag, sliding it across the wood.
"Inside you will find your ID plate, the Work Protocol manual, a Communications
Crystal, and a floor-map of the Hub. The map identifies your authorization
zones. Do not venture beyond the Red Lines without a directive. The energy
fluctuations in the construction and audit sectors have not yet reached 100%
stability."
Eric took the bag. It felt heavier than the volume suggested.
"Cycles today are for environment familiarization. Audit the manual. Official
operations commence tomorrow."
Grace picked up her pen and returned to her file, her head bowing.
"Query when an error manifests. Do not 'bottle' the confusion. If a system-crash
occurs due to a lack of inquiry, the tax is on your own account."
The phrase sounded scripted—as if she had delivered it to a hundred recruits.
Her tone held zero warmth, yet zero hostility.
Eric nodded and exited.
The sector across the hall was double the volume of the leader's office. Four
desks were aligned along the wall. The two by the window were bathed in natural
light; the two near the portal were in shadow.
The first desk was already occupied.
An Elf was hunched over a stack of data-scrolls. He looked up at the sound of
footsteps, offered a minimal nod, and returned to his task. Eric recognized him
instantly. It was the "Ice-Vase" from the written exam—the one who had ignored
Eric's query. So he passed the audit as well.
Eric sat at the second desk. He opened the bag and performed a physical audit of
his gear.
The ID plate was obsidian-black with silver lettering: his designation and unit
number. The reverse side bore the Imperial Crest. The Comm-Crystal sat in a
carved wooden box; its surface was polished to a mirror-finish and felt warm in
his palm.
The map, when unfurled, was the size of two desks. He spent fifteen minutes
archiving the primary coordinates and zones.
The manual was dense.
He flipped to the first page. Title: Evernight Transit Hub Operations Code
(Beta 1.1). The revision date was only three cycles old. He began his read from
Article One.
Thirty minutes in, the third unit manifested.
A Dwarf.
As he pushed through the door, his shoulders nearly caught the frame. He had to
pivot sideways to achieve entry. He carried a heavy-duty tool chest, which he
slammed onto the floor by the third desk with a resonant thud-clatter.
Eric looked at him. The face was familiar.
The Dwarf sat, performed a sweep of the room, lingering on Eric and the Elf for
a second each, before speaking.
"New recruits?"
The Elf didn't look up.
Eric gave a shallow nod. "Affirmative."
"Fine. We are peer-units now."
The Dwarf kicked his tool chest beneath the desk and pulled a piece of dried
jerky from his tunic, gnawing on it with a rhythmic, audible grinding.
"I am Kuhn. Dispute Mediator. Though my primary proficiency is mechanical
repair. Mediation is a situational variable—it depends on 'Fate'."
The sound of his chewing was the only noise in the quiet room. The Elf finally
lifted his head, cast a look of "Structural Distaste" at Kuhn, and returned to
his scrolls.
Eric localizing the memory-file: Written exam. The Dwarf who slept for two
hours, rebooted, answered a question in forty seconds, and returned to dormancy.
Definitely the 'Genius' variable.
Eric returned to his manual. Through the window, the Light of Evernight cast a
steady, geometric square of radiance onto his desk. In the distance, the
floating islands were silent sentinels under the bruised purple sky. Tiny
pinpricks of light marked the distant sectors, accompanied by the occasional
sapphire flash of an active transit array—a rhythmic pulse in the heartbeat of
the world.
He reached Chapter Three: Visitor Protocol and Hospitality Flow.
He began a deep-audit of the text.
Operations commenced tomorrow. He had zero data on what manner of travelers he
would encounter, or what crises would manifest.
But he knew one constant.
From this cycle forward, the stone beneath his boots was no longer the path of a
student. It was the obsidian brick of the Hub.
The path that was just a bit wider than anyone projected it needed to be.
First Active Cycle. 05:00 Hours.
Eric woke without a bell. His biological clock achieved a reboot and he sat up,
staring at a small fissure in the ceiling for five seconds before exiting the
bed.
The dormitory was a quad-unit on the third level of Building 3. Minimal transit
time.
The Elf's bedding was perfectly aligned—corners at 90-degree angles, pillow
centered. It looked un-occupied.
Kuhn's bed was a disaster. The duvet was a chaotic mass at the foot of the
mattress. The pillow was missing—localized later beneath the frame.
The fourth bed remained vacant. No fourth unit had reported for duty.
Eric cleansed his face, donned his uniform, pinned his ID to his left lapel, and
tucked the Comm-Crystal into his tactical pocket.
He descended to the first level. The open hall looked structurally different
from the previous cycle. Operation was "Go."
☆☆☆
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