Late at night, Luca sat at his clean like never desk, the glow of his laptop screen casting long shadows across the room. He slurped instant noodles straight from the container. It was quite salty and probably not a ‘proper’ meal –but his heart (and taste buds) knew it was tasty. His headphones buzzed with a gritty remix of Still Here, the sounds drowning out the silence of the apartment.


    It’s already the third night, he thought, glancing at his phone on the corner of the table for a moment. Tomorrow is the trip.


    The fruit of his work aka his money had already faded from two digits to zero two days ago. But thanks to that, he had no trouble convincing Victor that the rest would come through the coming weeks. That man knew there was no way on hell he would leave ran to another country, leaving his little brother behind. He wouldn’t have reached him otherwise.


    Swallowing a handful of warm noodles, his thoughts drifted towards his evaluation, and found himself opening his mail again.


    He skimmed past the formalities and corporate jargon, already read before, and focused on the details that mattered. Accommodations were part of the benefices considering they would live on the island under Pendulum’s jurisdiction. Meals were covered through an internal currency system, so that was taken care of. Health insurance was provided by them, and considering they were the company leader in medicine, it wasn’t anything shady.


    It would be great if he could put Shawn in one of their facilities –but the only way of getting one of the spots, most carefully guarded and managed than a presidency seat, was to get a higher rank. The benefices depended heavily in them, after all. If he wanted to get such a good thing, then he had to climb from ‘Intern’ –the bottom rung of the Collector Department ladder– up all the way to Specialist. Even being a Delta specialist would work.


    Luca sighed. The hierarchy in Pendulum was a bit intense. It could feel strict and not clear enough for new employees, because although there were defined positions –Interns, Agents, Specialists– at the case of the Delta Squadron, this was only the first step of the Collector Department. Gamma, Beta, Alpha followed suit –except without the ‘Intern’ position.


    All this was settled according to the M-level. And the level.


    His wasn’t bad. 0.9 was at the high extreme –although he knew that the heroine should have around 0.94. The other guy, well, trusting a word from his mouth was akin to believing on a cheater that said ‘this is the only and last time’. Yeah. He preferred to think his wasn’t beyond that mark and let it like that.


    Regarding levels–


    Well. Everyone started at 0, him included. He needed to complete the missions to earn EXP and level up. A classic, right? There was even a small sheet with his STATS –an evaluation according Pendulum AI’s parameters.


    Strength: 5 | Agility: 6 | Endurance: 5


    Intelligence: 8 | Perception: 7 | Charisma: 5


    Five was the baseline, so Luca was essentially an average human with a bit of perception and intelligence—or slightly better than one, almost a finger, if he averaged his stats.


    Perhaps he shouldn’t have stretched so much, or should have tried to speak to others. But no. It was better like this. A Gary Stu was good in theory, but would be eaten for breakfast, lunch and dinner after the first mission on the island. It was enough having knowledge that they didn’t come into until years later.


    With a sigh, Luca finished his meal and setting the empty noodle container aside, leaned back in his chair. His eyes were fixed on the information in front of him.


    <u>TRAITS</u>


    <u>Stealthy</u>: Enhances ability to move quietly and remain undetected. (–20% noise while walking, –25% noise while crunched.)


    <u>PERKS</u>


    <u>Night Vision</u>: Ability to see clearly in the dark.


    Two gifts from the Tutorial –aka Interview. (Or was it the other way around?) The first one was a big cheat –but was the second one that made him smile. A Perk! And so early. Generally, rookies got one after leveling up for first time. It was one option between three, and depending of the one chosen, the branch of a tree would spread while others would be locked.


    Night Vision was no one of the first three options.


    I should decide what path I’ll take, thought Luca. This ‘gift’ was a double-edged sword because it became useless if paired with the wrong additional perks.


    On other hand, he had to be careful from now. Traits were capricious. Perhaps, if he had no let that guy get the places in the cabinet, he would have gotten ‘Ruthless’ due the thing about the boxer. That –wouldn’t have been good.


    In paper, Pendulum didn’t like that their precious resources ended wasted.


    Luca tapped the table gently as he thought. Now that Maned Wolf wouldn’t be a problem, he would have to be careful with the seniors in the company. Especially the ones from the other squadrons. No everyone. But that woman, and that man with Greek names-


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Ah. I should make sure my own senior doesn’t die. To kept the equilibrium for a while longer.


    Stretching his arms above his head, he let out a long, tired sigh.


    “What a day awaits.”


    Days. Weeks. Months.


    His eyes flickered at the picture of two boys, one older and one younger, dressed in matching baseball jackets, on the wall. A grin stretched the mouth of the older as one of his hands was ruffling the black hair of the younger, whose scowl was betrayed by the curl of his lips and the shine on his eyes.


    Luca smiled.


    It didn’t matter.


    There were worse things than being alive and having hope.


    <hr>


    The airport buzzed with restless energy—people shuffled past one another, dragging suitcases across the white tile floors as announcements crackled through the speakers. On an unrelated note, they really needed to improve their communication system. The static was killing him.


    Avoiding the temptation to cover his ears, Luca scanned the signs overhead, his suitcase in one hand and his loyal thermos of lukewarm coffee in the other. Bored. He’d been given specific instructions: this spot, this time, no deviations if he wanted to keep the job. Someone would find him. When, exactly? The gods he didn’t believe in knew.


    His gaze swept the crowd, catching a cascade of unruly curls. Ah. Samantha, one of his favorite characters–inside the pages of a story, obviously. In real life, it was enough to know she wasn’t the kind of person he needed to worry about. Not in the way he was thinking, anyway.


    A bakery bag dangled from her fingers as she stared into nothingness. Her magenta suitcase leaned precariously, as if ready to topple at any moment. But she didn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with biting her lip and lost in thought.


    Her nerves must be through the roof, Luca thought. Still, he wasn’t ready to approach her just yet. His attention shifted instead to the younger man in the far corner. The dark–haired guy–with good taste, judging by his Primeval t–shirt–was clutching a crinkled plastic bag and fiddling with his phone. A small black backpack slumped against his legs, as if he’d packed only a couple of outfits at most.


    These two strangers… They were coworkers now.


    A flicker of movement caught Luca’s peripheral vision. At first glance, it seemed ordinary–a middle–aged man weaving smoothly through the chaos of the airport–but there was something uncanny about the way people parted for him without looking up. It was as if they were repelled by him on an unconscious level.


    Pendulum’s Agent, Luca thought, relaxing his grip on his luggage. They always carry themselves like low–key spies. Or Mafiosi. Life would be really difficult for them if they had to hide from normal people, huh?


    The agent wore dark sunglasses despite the interior lighting, his posture relaxed yet commanding. If Luca hadn’t known better, he might’ve been tempted to call security. Or text Robert. As the man approached Samantha, Luca noticed how her shoulders tensed, how her grip tightened on the bakery bag until the paper crinkled.


    She didn’t seem to notice her own reaction, offering the agent a smile that looked like a picture held together with tape. But the man did. He smiled back, extending a hand and shaking hers briskly before gesturing toward a corridor that hadn’t existed moments ago.


    Great. An asshole in charge of orientation. What could possibly go wrong?


    Luca focused on the corridor entrance. There it was–a pitch–dark passageway in the wall, its edges glistening faintly as if it might disappear at any moment. Samantha hesitated for half a heartbeat before stepping forward, her magenta suitcase the last visible hint of her before she vanished into the unnatural space.


    Then the agent turned, his face obscured by his sunglasses, and approached Luca.


    A faint tension prickled under Luca’s skin, but it wasn’t worse than he’d expected. He drew on his experience dealing with live alligators and the few awkward teas with Victor and his spouse, steadying himself.


    “How are you doing, Mr. Olson?” The man’s voice was deep and smooth. Pleasant. If a crocodile could speak, it would sound like this. “Call me Michael.”


    Luca extended his hand, genuinely surprised by the icy grip that met his own. It felt like touching metal left out in winter for too long, draining the warmth from his bones.


    Michael, huh? The name didn’t ring any bells.


    “I’m good, Michael,” Luca replied, keeping his voice steady. He didn’t offer his name—that would’ve been foolish. “And you?”


    The man’s smile was all teeth, sharp and practiced, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Great. We’ll chat later. Take that corridor you already saw and don’t look back. They’re waiting.”


    With a curt nod, Luca followed the same path as Samantha, stepping into the darkness. Narrow walls surrounded him, illuminated by scattered white LED lights. His footsteps echoed as he moved forward–no, not just his. Multiple footsteps. But he didn’t dwell on it. Like a dutiful Orpheus, he walked through the twisted corridors, ignoring the way the space seemed to stretch and distort with every turn.


    When Luca finally emerged, blinking under a surprisingly harsh white sky, he found himself facing a long runway. At the far end loomed a pristine white airplane, Pendulum’s logo etched onto its tail–a golden design, of course, with a particular–styled P.


    A group of people stood clustered near the boarding ramp, their faces pale and drawn. As Luca approached, he noticed that only two of the eight seemed remotely normal: the curly–haired woman, who was inspecting her luggage with a furrowed brow, and a red–haired figure who greeted him with unsettling cheerfulness.


    “Hello there, Mr. Olson,” she said, her voice bright and almost too lively for the tension hanging in the air. If this were a painting, she’d be the only one rendered in vibrant, clashing colors. “Call me Lacerta.”


    Luca gave a curt nod and extended his hand. Her grip matched Michael’s–firm and cold. A chill crept up his spine. This time, he recognized the name. She was one of the ‘Greeks.’ Luckily, she wouldn’t be his problem.


    “There’s only one left,” Lacerta said, her smile widening as she glanced toward the door. “Here he is. We’re complete. That’s all of us.”


    Luca turned to the curly–haired woman, offering a polite smile when he noticed her looking at him. “Olson,” he introduced himself, shaking her hand and expecting her to follow suit.


    “Samantha Green, but call me Sam, please.”


    “Of course,” he said, offering a brief smile before stepping back.


    “Mr. Reeds, hello to you,” the agent called out as the final member of their group appeared.


    “Tim is fine,” the man muttered, shuffling past Luca to stand beside Sam. His demeanor was guarded, his eyes darting around as if he expected someone to jump out from a hidden corner at any moment.


    The agent didn’t seem bothered by Tim’s curt response and instead smiled at his coworker. The two of them stepped aside, putting some distance between themselves and the group. They conferred quietly, their hushed words barely audible over the hum of anticipation. Then the casually dressed agent stepped forward, commanding silence with a single raised hand.


    “Let’s begin boarding,” he announced, his voice calm but authoritative. “Pay attention to your assigned seats.”