For a moment, no one spoke. Outside, the storm raged on, lightning illuminating the cabin in brief, blinding bursts. The plane hummed steadily beneath them.

  “About the levels,” Tim began, a frown creasing his forehead. “I didn’t see mine on my evaluation.”

  Lacerta took a sip from her drink before answering. “You’re obviously at Level 0 now, but if you’re curious, you’ll be able to see all your information after entering the capsule.”

  “The capsule?” Samantha asked, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

  “Yeah, that–” Lacerta took another sip, her tone casual, almost dismissive. “You’ll use the capsule to enter the Mysteries. Much easier than the old method.”

  Right. Luca recalled reading in Pendulum’s Extras that before the invention of the capsules, the only method was to ‘go to sleep in the Crypt and see where you end up.’ No wonder she couldn’t avoid mentioning it. However, he doubted that there would be an explanation about this.

  No. There was no more words regarding the matter. In truth, there were no words.

  Luca pondered a bit and then decided to ask, "I've a question. How do we leave the Mysteries? It's like in the Interview? We leave after fulfilling the main mission?"

  Both Sam and Tim perked up.

  "That's a good question, Mr. Olson," Lamia let the glass on the table. "Every time you enter, you’ll have to wait a certain amount of time before the security mechanism pulls you out. It’s important for you to know that this will only happen if you’ve completed your primary mission."

  "But what happens if we don’t complete it?" Tim asked immediately, frowning.

  Sam gave a nervous look, "The company won't just leave us there. That's illegal."

  "I see someone hasn’t read the contract," Lamia sighed. "The company isn't responsible of you once you're inside the Mystery. "And yeah, it should be illegal, but who’s going to say anything? The very nature of this job is completely outside the realm of what’s known."

  Sam seemed to have a lot to say about this but only frowned even more. Tim didn't even look surprised.

  "Anything else, rookies?"

  “Could you tell us more about the different kinds of Rules?” Luca asked after a moment. It was good idea to start planting the seed. “If we’re starting soon, we might not have enough time to familiarize ourselves with them.”

  It wasn' an excuse. He knew they wouldn't be getting the time to peruse about 'little details' like this one.

  Lacerta hummed thoughtfully. “Alright. Death Rules are instant death for the one who breaks it. Omen Rules are like a special kind of Death Rules, but they’re not instantaneous—they act on a broader level, so if you break one, you’ll end up affecting everyone else for worse. Split Rules—these are the 'if you do this, now you can do that' type, offering new opportunities that often unlock Hidden Missions."

  "Hidden Missions?" Tim pipped up.

  "Don't start dreaming so early. They’re more common in two-star worlds and above. And, you must know that experienced recruits die seven out of ten times trying to find Splits, so don’t go looking for trouble.”

  Luca’s gaze flicked briefly to Sam, his mind flashing to the description of her death. Yes, even the top could die due this kinda of thing. But his thoughts lingered on another detail –his own plans to complete missions in the best way possible. It seemed he’d have to -well, ignore this important piece of advice.

  Tim pressed further. “But what if I find another rule? Will I get a bonus or something?”

  Lacerta’s smile widened, revealing teeth that seemed sharper than before. “Opportunist, right? What an interesting, dangerous Trait.”

  Her words made Tim’s eyes widen before he frowned.

  “The quick answer is yes. If any of you discover a new rule–and survive–you’ll receive a bonus. A substantial one, even. But if you don't caome back, which is the most usual, then you'll get an honorable mention at the end of the manual. I'm sure future recruits will be thankful with you collaboration."

  Tim didn't look happy with his words.

  "Or, if you really like the idea of exploring mysteries and uncovering new rules, you can become a Scout. There are plenty of growth opportunities for those who manage to survive and acquire the necessary skills along the way."

  “Any other questions?” Lacerta asked lightly, her tone almost casual as she glanced toward Samantha with an encouraging smile.

  Samantha hesitated, then spoke up. “About the Traits,” she began, licking her lips nervously. “Can they be removed or replaced?”

  “No,” Lacerta answered, her voice firm and final, even as her tone remained deceptively soft. “It surprises me none of you mentioned them before. This part of the System always catches the attention of recruits–for better or worse.” She paused. “Now, while Traits can’t be changed, don’t let them define you. Learn to work with them. And, before anyone asks, you’ll get more of them as you participate in missions and level up.”

  Luca’s mind flickered to Samantha’s Trait, and he understood why she’d asked. Compassionate sounded good on paper, but it was a bit too people-oriented. While a Charisma bonus had its benefits, it also came with disadvantages. It wasn’t surprising she’d already discovered hers, which was the same that Luca had.

  Neither of them would be a front-line fighter anytime soon.

  “Oh, right, before I forget,” Lacerta said, her tone shifting to businesslike. “You’ll be working under one of three Delta Squadrons.” A flicker of something crossed her face before she addressed each of them individually. “Mr. Reeds, you’ve been assigned to Delta-03 or Delta-N. A representative couldn’t join us, but don’t worry, you’ll meet them on the island. Mr. Olson, you’re with Delta–02, also known as Delta–M. You’ll be with Michael. And Miss Green…” Her smile softened ever so slightly. “You’re with me in Delta-01 or Delta-L. Welcome.”

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  “Thank you, Miss Lacerta,” Samantha replied, offering a polite smile.

  Lacerta nodded, and then continued, “Part of your contract requires you to select a designation. It must be a name starting with the same letter as your team.”

  “Delta-N,” Tim muttered, rolling the syllables around in his mouth like they tasted rare. “Can I choose any name that starts with N?”

  “Exactly,” Lacerta confirmed, her grin turning sly. “Feel free to pick whatever suits you –even traditionally feminine names, a rock band or a dessert name if that’s your preference. Go wild.”

  Tim scoffed but looked thoughtful, his fingers tapping absently against his knee. Sam, for her part, was glancing through the window, pursing her lips.

  Meanwhile, Lacerta returned to the front of the cabin, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. The presentation had already faded, leaving the cabin quite empty.

  What should I chose? Luca pondered, glancing at his hands, closing and opening his fingers. There was a name on the tip of his tongue but he felt some resistance. It was from the other life, and represented a big part of him... but what if it ended more as a handicap than a help?

  The sharp sound of the curtain being pulled back startled Luca from his musings. Michael emerged, stepping into the cabin with an ease that felt almost predatory. His presence filled the space —and Luca was sure he wasn't simply imagining a crocodile slipping out of the water to spread on the rocks.

  “Have you finished briefing the rookies?” he asked Lacerta, his voice smooth and low.

  Lacerta nodded, her cheerfulness replaced by something colder, more formal. “They should be ready. I told them to choose a designation in the meantime.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Michael said, nodding approvingly at her before turning his gaze toward the group. His eyes swept over them slowly, lingering on each face as though sizing them up. When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of someone who knew, was confident because of this. “Don’t rush your decision. You won’t be changing your designation anytime soon. Don’t pick something frivolous. Don’t use your real name or the name of someone you loved.”

  Luca raised an eyebrown, sensing a story or five there.

  His lips curled into a faint smirk. “Trust me, it gets messy when you have to see and answer to that name in reports –or personally.” He paused, his gaze sharpening. “Don’t be the one with their ex’s name, please.”

  It was good advice. And yes, there were stories there. He should ask later, in some ocassion.

  “Right. Some names are already taken,” Lacerta added, her tone practical. “So I’d recommend picking at least three options.”

  “Why can’t we use our own names?” Tim asked then.

  Lacerta and Michael shared a look before she answered. “I told you about the Roles, right? There are consequences if you don’t keep a certain barrier between yourself and those identities.”

  You go crazy, Luca summarized silently.

  A sudden, piercing noise cut through the cabin —a high-pitched whine that set everyone's teeth on edge. For a split second, the agents’ faces betrayed genuine surprise, sharing a frown and an unreadable look. On their part, the recruits exchanged uneasy glances, unsure whether the sound meant.

  Lacerta recovered first, smoothing her expression with practiced ease. "Alright," she said briskly, clapping her hands together once. "You’ll have a couple of hours to think about your designations. But now…" Her smile returned. "It’s time to see your new home."

  As both agents sat down on two empty chairs on a corner and tightened their belts, the plane descended rapidly, jolting violently as it hit the runway. The turbulence rocked the airplane, as if the aircraft itself resisted landing down. Outside, the world blurred past the windows–grey asphalt and trees under an overcast sky. Lightning flickered sporadically, casting a game of shadows inside the cabin.

  For a splint second, the idea they all would die crossed his mind.

  The plane’s engines whirred to a halt, and the cabin fell into silence.

  "Thank you all for joining us on flight 772. You may now unfasten your seatbelts and begin disembarking."

  Luca unbuckled his seatbelt, looking around him. The rest of his coworkers stood, their faces unreadable, with the same air than at the start of the trip. It was strange because Luca didn't felt the same impulse than before but simply a faint tug to leave.

  A Pendulum operative dressed in a warm orange sweater appeared at the front of the cabin, gesturing for them to hurry up.

  Logistic Corps. They were a bunch of fearless people, perhaps even more than the Security Corps of the island. And had a hand on almost everything happening there. It wasn't a good idea to make them angry.

  Without a word, Luca followed the line of people down the boarding ramp, his suitcase in one hand and his thermos in the other.

  The cold wind hit him immediately, sharp and biting, carrying the faint, salty scent of the sea. The air felt heavier here, charged with a kind of tension. Ahead, the road stretched out like a gray desert, leading to a cluster of low, utilitarian buildings not so far from there. Michael stood waiting at the bottom of the ramp, his back straight and sunglasses perfectly in place.

  “This way,” Michael said. He turned and began walking, not bothering to check if they were following. But then, what more could you do on this situation? Running for the hills? It was already late for that.

  Luca moved forward, his eyes scanning the surroundings.

  The island felt… off.

  It was beautiful, of course. Lush green open spaces stretched out around the paved road, behind short fences. A hint of civilization could be found in the horizon. But the ground beneath his feet wasn’t stable. He could feel subtle vibrations traveling up through his legs with each step. A small detail, but one that set his nerves on edge.

  In front of him, Tim muttered something under his breath, frowning at everything around him. Samantha kept glancing over her shoulder, her eyes darting toward the line of trees that bordered the path –or perhaps she was looking at the tall fences standing a few meters away. They were lovely in and odd way.

  A black bus with tinted windows waited at the end of the path, just beyond the barriers. The model was quite old, and it looked more like something from where Luca had come from than from that side. Perhaps this was the reason many glanced at it with bewilderment and seemed to hesitate as they went inside.

  Luca slipped inside, noticing it was bigger than it looked at first sight, with rounds of multiple and individuals seats spread along the walls. He took an indivual seat at the middle, and leaned against it. It was pretty comfortable.

  Once everyone was inside and the bus started to move, Michael stood at the front, visible to everyone.

  “I won’t make this long,” Michael began, pushing his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “‘You’ve heard what’s ahead, and you’ve experienced the Interview firsthand. However, the jump is longer than you may believe."

  He paused, letting the words sink in, his gaze sweeping over the group. Even hidden behind his sunglasses, the intensity of his eyes could be felt with an intensity that burn. “The faster your understand that G-zilla is its own world, has its own rules, the better off you'll be." He leaned back slightly. “Adapt or die trying.”

  …Well. That guy sure was something.