White lights, a plain white ceiling, all things I haven''t seen since my 20s... and where I was...


    I still feel the mask around my face, the long draping weight of my duster coat, and the items I keep hooked on my belt... I didn''t go back before the volcano... and I sure as hell am not in heaven if I''m still wearing this gear, so remembering the situation I was in, I now start to panic.


    I sit up rapidly, subtly noticing my back doesn''t hurt. I feel around me, finding both my rifle and my pack missing, as well as the two other guns I kept strapped to it. Fear continues to fill me as my eyes fail to adjust to the bright artificial lights of the room I am in. In the blindness of light, I see movement and reach into my duster, and draw the M9 pistol I keep strapped to my side. I point it in the vague direction of the movement and flick the safety off with my thumb. In response, I hear a feminine voice shout,


    "Whoah! Whoah! Calm the fuck down!


    Hey, I thought we disarmed this guy!"


    My eyes adjust, and I see a person in front of me wearing some sort of white doctor''s scrubs. I am able to aim my gun much better now that I can see. They aren''t an ashwalker like me, so I am hesitant to trust them. I don''t say anything, I just aim my pistol at the effeminate male in front of me.


    In the moments we stare at one another, I can tell it is just a very unfortunate man, who never really developed masculine features, including voice. I feel for the guy to be honest. He holds his hands in the air, showing his submission to my threat of death by 9mm, but in my long time in the ashlands, I know full well a surrender means nothing, but I still hesitate to shoot as he does appear to be some sort of medical personnel.


    I keep my hand steady and scan the room around me, quickly discerning this is some sort of doctor''s office, which makes sense why there is a nurse here. This causes me to stop panicking for a moment, but I stay suspicious and keep the gun raised. I also start to notice something is off about me as well. My clothing feels a little looser than it did before, but a quick pat down proves that everything is buttoned, zipped, or otherwise synched closed. My back doesn''t hurt at all, which is very odd, and standing here, my knees aren''t screaming at me. My current theory is that I was in some sort of coma, which caused me to lose some weight, and the good painkillers still are active in my body.


    The door behind the twink slides open and three armed people pile in, shoving the nurse out of the way and behind them. They are covered head to toe in some strange sort of armor that appears to be quite bullet resistant, and they all have guns I don''t recognize trained on me. They look like future cops plain and simple with their eyes hidden behind glowing blue slits in the helmets. The lead one roars,


    "Sir! Drop the weapon NOW!"


    I think about it for a moment, realise they want me alive or they would''ve already perforated me, and I am outgunned. I drop the M9 and raise my hands and say,


    "Alright, I''ll play nice. I''m sorry."


    The lead one approaches with his gun trained on me and takes his grip off of the foregrip, he uses the free hand to pat me down underneath my coat, and he cusses under his breath and says,


    "Those bastards didn''t even try to disarm him. I''m gonna kick Asset Acquisitions asses!"


    I respond,


    "Yeah, kinda poor practice there. I wouldn''t let that slide."


    He angrily snaps back,


    "Shut up, you. My shift is almost over, and of course we get a freakout."


    I nod with a snort of laughter as he drops all my knives and a few derringer pistols to the ground. He is at least careful with my electronic equipment, taking my belt off and setting it down gently. He then asks,


    "Alright, we gonna be cool now?"


    I nod and respond,


    "I''m cool."


    He motions to the examination table I woke up on, and I take that as my hint to sit down and wait. The armed men gather my stuff off the ground and take it with them, all the while I''m trying not to be in fight or flight mode, I have to chill, there is no victory to be gained against a well armed and organized group when I am trapped in their facility. So, I sit there on the table and kick my feet...


    After a short wait, a silver-haired woman in a black and white suit walks in, and she is flanked by two of the guards. She looks odd, hair is that of an older woman, but her face is that of a woman in her early twenties. It''s very odd, as I can tell it isn''t dyed, or she did a really good job at dying her hair. She gives me a pleasant smile, and she pulls up a chair. She sits a few feet away from me and asks,


    "How are you feeling?"


    I shrug and respond,


    "A bit confused but overall I feel quite well."


    She nods and responds,


    "Yes, that is very normal, your reaction is quite common... but those responsible for your care seemingly made some mistakes when it came to making sure everyone was safe."


    I laugh, and she just shakes her head disappointedly and continues,


    "I am the Department Chief of the Asset Acquisition Department, Illyia Moskovit. Due to the failures of my subordinates, I am the only one I can trust to take care of your... acquisition at this point in time. Now, what is your name?"


    I answer,


    "My name is Solomon Agrippa... uhhhh old ashwalker is my role, I guess."


    Ms.Moskovit gives a soft laugh, and she responds,


    "Well, nice to meet you, Solomon, your old title doesn''t matter here. You are part of our organization now a new one will be granted to you."


    I nod slowly and ask,


    "And what might this organization be?"


    She lightly strikes her leg, seemingly having forgotten to introduce her organization, and with a proud smile, she responds,


    "We are Salvation, that is the name of our wonderful organization! You''ll probably love it here."


    I tilt my head as I am still wearing my mask, so I can''t just raise my eyebrow. She understands and, with a sigh, continues,


    "I guess I do owe you a little more of an explanation, but it has been so long since I''ve brought a new member into the fold as director, so I don''t wanna ruin any surprises yet."


    I respond sarcastically,


    "Oh dang, wouldn''t wanna ruin the surprises! That would be awful to learn about the people who are currently holding me in custody and are telling me I joined something without first giving me a brochure."


    She shakes her head disapprovingly and asks,


    "Please walk with me, I will show you Salvation."


    I hop off the table and really notice how good my body feels. It''s almost as if the weight of age has been cast off my shoulders, and my posture is back to perfect. Ms.Moskovit stands up gracefully, and I follow her out of the room while I am followed by the two armed guards.


    I step through the door expecting a white hall, but instead I am confronted with a towering corridor of shining metal and distant pulsing lights running across various surfaces. The hall I am in is triangular in shape with dozens of doors lining it. I watch in wonder as the doors are located, shift and change locations, lights attached to them indicating something I do not know. Ms.Moskovit speaks,


    "Welcome to everyone''s first taste of Salvation. This area is known as the Hall of the Found. This is where all the assets we acquire first appear."


    I question,


    "Appear?"


    She nods and answers,


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Yes, each room here is where most of our newest members come to us. Each door has nothing but endless void behind it until someone is summoned, each summoning room forming into a shape or design that the summoned individual can understand. Yours was that of a modern doctor''s office."


    I watch as a group of people walk by wearing the same white uniforms as the twink that was in my room earlier. They stare right back, trying not to think too hard about my custom room appearing out of nothing. I continue following my guide with my head constantly swiveling around and taking in the sights of this strange place. I ask,


    "So how did I get here? What method is used?"


    She turns around and begins talking and walking backward like a tour guide,


    "Well, that is easy. You are brought here by the Protector. The Protector is sort of our boss and sort of a tool. We do not know where it came from, but it seemingly was the one who started Salvation. It makes many of the major decisions here, notedly it decides who we bring into the fold as an asset."


    I ask,


    "This Potector... what is it?"


    She nods, expecting the question and fires back,


    "It is an ancient artificial intelligence, one that is central to this entire facility, as it is the facility we are currently in. Yes, I''m sure your world had stories of evil AI taking over and stuff, but don''t worry about that. The Protector itself has stated its only goal is to guarantee the continuation of intelligent life and civilization."


    I send another question her way,


    "Okay, so there are multiple worlds it can access... how?"


    She laughs at the question and responds,


    "Well, the how is still unknown, as all efforts through technology and mystical arts, the trans-dimensional teleportation it can do cannot be replicated."


    I reply,


    "Ah, so it''s trans-dimensional, not interstellar... still lost, but I can understand that enough."


    She nods and continues,


    "Yes, of course, any deeper questions will be answered during your training, as you were brought here for a job. You have a role in Salvation as the Protector, and saw something in you that Salvation needs or wants. We just have to figure it out as the Protector is sometimes quite... eccentric when it comes to acquisitions, which is why it''s my department''s role to bring you into the fold and try to figure out why you came here."


    I nod and ask,


    "I get this organization is called Salvation, so I assume you save people or something. What is the goal of Salvation?"


    She nods and replies,


    "Well, the Protector created Salvation to help it with its duties. Our goal and mission statement are to save civilizations from apocalypse, and then to bring that dimension into the fold, where they are allowed access to all the other dimensions that have also been brought together. This is in order to foster cooperation between intelligent life and make sure civilization is protected.


    We of Salvation are the foot soldiers of this grand campaign. We are the ones who go to a dying world and either rescue those we can, or prevent the apocalypse and loss of that dimension. There are many diverse situations we find across the different dimensions so the Protector grants us new recruits from wherever it can find them to fill the roles we may be lacking."


    I inquire,


    "My world faced an apocalypse... why didn''t Salvation come?"


    She frowns and responds sadly,


    "I apologize, but the Protector, as powerful as it may be, is still limited in what it can see and sense. Some worlds are difficult or are outright impossible for the Protector to find for many various reasons. I assume your world is one of those, and when it found you and teleported you here, something about the situation you were in allowed it to see you alone, or so we can assume for now. I am sorry about the struggles your people faced alone."


    I nod and respond,


    "Well... I''m alive and well, so the struggles weren''t too bad, plus we are slowly trying to build a future."


    She nods with a smile and responds,


    "And I hope one day the Protector can find your home and bring it into the fold so that we may uplift your people."


    I nod, saying nothing. She takes this as my understanding and continues,


    "When it comes to asset acquisition, our role is to understand what the Protector has sent us. It gives us hints, but never directly tells us what the catch of the day is. I''m sure you saw all the different lights marking the doors; these have some meaning to us. It allows us to categorize the importance of a new acquisition. We have a scaling system based on the hints the Protector gives us.


    There are two lights on each door, and they both reference something different about the new acquisition. One is what we call the importance or quality of the acquisition, which means the Protector believes this acquisition is very important to our cause, or is otherwise a rare talent that we don''t often see. We rank this on a scale of 1 to 10. 10 is the highest, 1 being the lowest. This doesn''t tell us exactly what this acquisition can do, only that the Protector deems it a high priority or not, or of proper quality. It may sound counterproductive to bring in 1s, but the specific knowledge and expertise of even the lowest quality acquisition can always shift the balance in a bad situation, and at the very least, we get more manpower, as not all situations or roles require the best of the best to solve.


    The second light is a little more difficult to understand. We call it the gift light as the Protector uses this light to describe what the acquisition does or what it can do for us. There is a big chart for us in Asset Acquisition to determine what this means. Blue usually means some sort of magician or related ability, yellow tends to be a special physical talent, and red is other, and this light comes in a spectrum, so we have difficulty sometimes understanding it."


    I ask,


    "What did mine say?"


    She grimaces and sheepishly replies,


    "Well... I am not just with you because of my subordinates'' failures... You are also an anomaly. You are the first 10 we have had in a long time. Now, before you start strutting around, this doesn''t mean you are more powerful than anyone or get any special treatment, it just means you are a rarity or offer something important. As for your gift... the light was grayish, so we have no clue what that means. I can''t say it''s good or bad, so we will have to run some tests.


    I''m here mostly because the last time we had an anomalous acquisition, they turned out to be quite bothersome before we managed to reign them in."


    I nod, confused at the strange ranking system, but I move forward, strutting a little bit knowing I got the highest rank or whatever.


    We move to the end of the corridor and stop in front of the huge exit doors. Ms.Moskovit announces,


    "Prepare yourself, Solomon, because through these doors is the central concourse of the main facility where we operate and where trans-dimensional commerce, politics, and interaction take place..."


    I take a deep breath, and the doors slide open, and my eyes go wide as she finishes her announcement,


    "... Welcome to Facility Zero, also known as the Core of Dimensions."


    I stare out across the expanse before me. A practical city inside of this concourse, as it''s called. Towers of shining lights and signs, all made of the same futuristic materials that the rest of the facility is made up of. This central concourse is large enough to have large flying machines move between the buildings, expertly flying to their destinations, incredibly fast monorail trains dart inside and out of the many buildings and around the concourse, leading to places I cannot see. By my estimation, the far wall from me, which is difficult to even see, is over ten miles away at least. I can see the flowing swarm of people below me, about a mile down, but cannot make out any features of those below, just an endless river of vehicles and people flowing.


    If it weren''t for my mask, I''d probably look really stupid with my mouth hanging agape. I haven''t seen a city like this ever, and I haven''t seen an alive city for over four decades, so this is wonderful to me. From the dirty and subdued world of endless ash to a clean and vibrant city that can only be found within science fiction novels.


    I guess my posture showed my wonderment, so Ms.Moskovit explains,


    "This is the Central Concourse, which works as the ultimate mixing pot of all peoples the Protector has brought into the fold. It is considered a megacity considering its population, as those skyscrapers go a few hundred stories down past what looks like the ground. This is the place where the refugees from destroyed worlds are housed, so the decimated populations of hundreds, if not thousands, of worlds live in the Central Concourse alone. There are four more spires, which form a megacity in its own right, connected via the green corridors, which are massive halls that contain our "rural" population and agricultural sectors. This entire facility is completely self-sufficient, to the point of excess, so it trades with all the other dimensions we are friendly with. This means this is the place where anyone from any dimension can buy anything produced in a different dimension. Thus creating one of the greatest economies ever with a centralized currency so no exchange rates either."


    I am at a loss for words, but I stammer out,


    "I''ve never lived in a city like this before..."


    She giggles and answers me,


    "No, you won''t live there, but you can visit anytime you aren''t on duty. We in Salvation live in the upper levels only, mostly to keep us out of the way of the more normal folk."


    I ask,


    "Are we like the police here too?"


    She laughs again and answers,


    "No, that is up to the facility security, like the guys with us right now. We are entirely dedicated to going out and helping people outside of Facility Zero, but I guess if things get bad enough, we can come to the rescue, but that has never happened."


    I nod and find myself in almost a trance, taking in everything that I can see of the city below. I don''t even resist as the two guards gently push me along and onto a small tram which zips across a precarious monorail, which gives me an even greater view of the city. My sigh-seeing is ended when the tram enters a tunnel and stops in a futuristic, but very recognizable train station. There is more security here, but also people wearing various uniforms, some very combat-esque and others quite fashionable as far as my knowledge goes. They stare at me, and I can''t help but feel a little self-conscious as I am very dirty compared to the cleanliness of everyone else here. My duster quite literally has years of ash caked onto it in places, and I also notice the trail of ash that follows me with every step, making me feel bad for the cleaners.


    Some looks toward me are cross, others friendly, and some unreadable. I try to wave back at those who give me that courtesy. I am led through pristine halls with various portraits on the walls to what is very much a medical clinic. Ms.Moskovit explains to me,


    "Here we will determine what you are capable of as well as find you a role. These tests are minimally invasive, as this is also your medical checkup, as some of our acquisitions have come in quite damaged or ill before. So this is just a precaution.


    I will be overseeing your progress here and will also help with some of your general training before more specialized training for your role can be done.


    Also, before I leave you in our medical staff''s capable hands, I will warn you that the Protector may have modified your body in some way during your teleportation here. This is usually quite minimal and largely is to protect you from any issues that your dimension coded into your DNA, such as genetic disorders and stuff. The Protector wanted you for you, so it usually doesn''t change much."


    I nod, noting that my back pain is gone, so maybe the Protector took that away since my dad always suffered with it, just as his dad before him did. I am approached by a group of women all dressed like stereotypical 50''s nurses, but their uniforms are a soft pink overall. They grab me by the arms with surprisingly strong grips, and I am carried into the back of this strange medical facility, I manage to joke,


    "Well, can''t say I haven''t had one or two dreams like this before..."


    A few of them giggle, but I notice the grips on my arms grow tighter as if they are restraining me.


    What craziness have I gotten myself into?