The massive computer hummed faintly in the dark room, a black screen of the size of a cinema, with thick blue wires connected to dozens of terminals lined on the walls. At first, it looked normal. And then, a sudden bell-like noise made the screen flicker —the black turning a vivid red.

  A black strip of shiny numbers appeared, a long strip that soon started to drop. And dropped.

  And dropped.

  [Warning!

  Minimum Point threshold breached. Emergency Protocol imminent. Restore Points to acceptable levels or initiate system override.]

  [Warning!]

  [Warning!]

  Red lights came into live on the terminals and blue windows popped up around the screen, burying the numbers under the sheer quantity of the warnings messages.

  A single door, tucked behind two terminals, opened and a man ran inside the room. At first sight he looked like a ghost, dressed a yellow suit as pale as his hair. But the worry on his eyes was very much of someone alive. He went straight to the computer, and pressing a spot on the screen, a light keyboard appeared in front of him.

  His fingers danced across it, practiced and precise —like a tango he had dominated from the first to the last step.

  Soon, the windows disappeared like a breeze had swept them away, revealing the strip of numbers again. It had frozen in a number —less than half of the original.

  “Merde,” he muttered, letting out a sight. Decades of work had faded away.

  Soft footsteps echoed behind him.

  “That’s all I can do, mon cher, “He said softly. “I’m afraid we’re on borrowed time. Perhaps less than three months.”

  For a moment she didn’t say anything, then the frustration won. “Esto no es suficiente,” she started pacing around the room. “How could this happen? We need more Points, and fast. I’ve no more options than to start the recruitments earlier than before. And put additional guards here.”

  “Nas won’t like it,” the man said, turning at her with a faint frown.

  She stopped, crossing her arms over her chest. Her hair seemed to growl. “Do you see him worrying out for this mess? Because I don’t. I haven't seen a single one of his hairs since October, Levi. “She showed him a smile which was all teeth. “So forgive me if I don’t care about his opinion.”

  Levi didn’t say anything about that. Instead, he offered, “I’ll put some pressure on the Alpha and the Beta teams. There are two new five-star worlds that may be of help.”

  “Send the Leaders if you have to,” the woman said immediately. “We cannot allow this situation to continue unchecked. The last thing we need is a repetition of August 1992.”

  They both left the room after finishing their talk —no noticing the shadow coming out from the corner, as if materializing out of thin air. The figure approached the computer and gently, tapped the screen. Their fingers were twice quicker as the man, and after finishing, the numbers started to change again. Way slower than before —but they did.

  No one seemed to notice.

  “How come we are in last place again?!” Minerva swirled the chair towards his coworker, a scowl on her face. “We have Morgana!”

  With his check pressed against the cold surface of the table, Michael didn’t look up. He looked pale and strained, and to her surprise, his 'old-money' shit sunglasses were down next to him. In any other situation, Minerva might have teased him about it –called him a dramatic shit or something–but right now wasn’t the time for this.

  “We had Morgana,” he corrected. “Last mission didn’t go well,” he muttered, his words sluggish. Did they cost coins or something? Keeping his eyes closed, he let out a long, weary sigh. What a guy. If not were for the long two years working together–

  “You expected something different?”

  Forget it. She still wanted to punch him. Her scowl deepened. “You’re joking. She’s –she was the best of the batch. We got her–what, three weeks ago?” Her eyes flicked to the calendar on the wall, the dates circled in red screaming back at her. “What could…?” After a moment, her expression darkened as the shards clicked into place. “Don’t tell me… the dino psycho job?”

  Michael hummed, his eyes drifting shut as if he could let himself sleep off the conversation.

  Minerva took that as a 'yes, go and cry a little'. She dragged a hand down her face, her fingers trembling slightly. For a brief, blissful moment, she imagined what it would be like not to give a damn about any of this. To walk away and leave the mess behind.

  The cafeteria had a killer strawberry latte and chocolate cake combo she could treat herself to. Maybe she could even check out the new arrivals at the store. Today was Tuesday. Sora should’ve stocked something fresh, right? A cute dress, a lovely cashmere sweater, perhaps even new boots without those damn heels Lacerta managed to convince her to buy last time.

  She let out a long sight.

  Sadly, it was only whimsical thoughts.

  She was paid to take care of this, and although it didn’t include ‘caring’ Minerva was still too much human. (Perhaps it was time to choose a branch and take care of that pesky matter, right?).

  What a damn shame.

  “The best of the batch…” she muttered under her breath, the words salty on her tongue.

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  Silence fell over them.

  “What happened?” she finally asked, half-expecting Michael to have fallen asleep.

  “Same old story,” Michael said, his voice flat. “She pulled the short straw. Last tour guide.” He yawned, barely bothering to cover it. “Poor lass.”

  Her jaw tightened. “Let me guess. The bus got stuck in front of one of the kings?”

  Michael gave a slow, almost imperceptible nod. “Yeah. Lorenzo said she couldn’t get the shield in time. Report confirmed it.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, as if speaking too loudly might summon the memory of what happened. “At least it was quick.”

  Minerva stared at him.

  “Don’t think too much about it…” Michael said, his mouth half-covered by his hand. “Accidents happen, Min.”

  Yes. They did happen, didn’t they? She loosened her knuckles, then asked, “Who else?”

  "The newest rookie from Delta-N. Got eaten at midnight, I think. But Lorenzo’s minion got the pictures and even survived so–“ he shrugged.

  "Did you notice? We’ve lost most of the new recruits in the last three months. The others aren’t better but we have no one right now. I thought Morgana–,” she pressed her lips, and then shook her head. “Forget it. I’ll write to Santa about getting more quality material.” Minerva closed her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. Soft cushions, but not an ounce of comfort for her poor bones.

  “Delta-L gets priority this time,” Michel pointed out, the joy-killing man. When she let out a not–so polite words, he added, “At least the recruitments have been moved up. Never thought I’d see the day.”

  “Mimir mentioned the rush is because something happened at the Core—but Krino’s keeping his mouth shut. Not even Lacerta could pry anything out of him, and you know how he is about her.” She didn’t bother hiding her disgust. The man was three decades her senior, and his infatuation was anything but subtle, that creep. “So, what do you think?”

  “… That it could be worse.”

  Minerva snorted. “Yeah? You realize we’ll be pulling overtime until we get another newbie, right?”

  “Don’t call me that,” he grumbled, still avoiding her gaze. He sighed, a faint, dry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “At least the pay’s decent.”

  Her eyes met his, and she mirrored his smirk. “At least we get paid.”

  Even when she left and went back to the rest of the paperwork, the thorn on her heart persisted.

  Perhaps there could be a way to get some good recruits this time too. She hadn’t wanted to cash that favor so soon but –it was for Delta-M’s good.

  … Still dampened her mood, anyway. That Four-Eyes could be such a bitch despite being of the same team.

  The air, thick with the scent of sweetness and damp soil, buzzed with the murmur of visitors and the hum of mechanical bees flitting among the plants. The greenhouse was busier than usual for a Wednesday in District 23. Luca wasn’t sure if it was because of the upcoming Spring Festival or Pendulum’s latest discovery that had been all over the news.

  He didn’t care. His only concern was the extra bonus he could earn. A couple more dollars never hurt.

  Leaning over a row of strawberries, he carefully inspected the delicate, deep-red fruits—they looked perfect at a glance, glossy and juicy— and then glanced at the base of the planter, where the sensors stood. They emitted a soft white blink so everything was fine with these little ones.

  He moved on to the next row, but suddenly, a vibration on his neck distracted him. Frowning, he stopped by a moment, crouching next to the planters and glanced around. It didn’t seem like his supervisor was nearby. With a quick motion, he pulled out the round pendant he kept hidden under his shirt and looked at it. A small line of text shone on the smooth surface.

  (1) NEW MESSAGE from ‘Pendulum’

  Before he could even think about opening it, Mr. Howard’s voice boomed from across the central fountain, at the other side of the strawberries ‘zone’. "Olson, I don’t pay you to waste time chatting with your girlfriend!" The man had appeared as if he’d materialized out of thin air.

  Luca wouldn’t be surprised if the guy had been lurking behind the planters—again.

  A group of visitors turned toward them but quickly looked away as Mr. Howard approached, ready to launch into his usual spiel about the wonders of the greenhouse and his uncle’s political campaign. Luca sighed and walked off, making sure those last strawberries were in perfect condition before heading to the next section.

  He passed one of his coworkers, a woman in her late forties, and exchanged a brief nod, before entering a corridor lined with walls of bioluminescent vines that emitted a soft bluish glow, dotted with tiny white berries. One of Pendulum’s projects—the fruits grew by their own light. They were one of the premium products.

  At the end of the hallway, the cherry planters stood in perfect rows, their bright red fruits the size of his fist. Like the white berries, they were a favorite in the wealthier districts, so the entire production was sold directly. Very rarely were they raffled off. But Luca knew well that only the defective fruits ended up that way.

  His face returned to a frown as he walked past the cherries, glancing at the sensors from above. One of his hands gripped the pendant, but he tucked it back under his shirt. If he got caught again, Mr. Howard wouldn’t just make a scene—his paycheck would be on the line. And Victor wouldn’t be understanding if the payment was late again.

  It’s probably nothing, he told himself. Some advertisement. Maybe an invitation to the latest tech expo, as usual. A subtle reminder they were the best of the best, bla bla bla.

  The cherries were good too.

  Soon, Luca left the rows of planters, walking down a hallway until he reached a frosted glass door labeled ‘Authorized Personnel Only.’ The biometric panel beside the door recognized his fingerprint and opened with a soft click. Inside, the control room was lit by the glow of multiple holographic screens floating in the air, displaying real-time graphs and data.

  "Hey, Luca," Albert greeted him with a wide smile, getting up from his chair. "Can you take a look at this while I run to the bathroom?"

  "Sure," Luca replied, taking his place in front of the screens. He kept one eye on the security cameras and the other on the graphs of the latest readings. The strawberries were perfect, the cherries too... Oh, there was Little Jiss, one of Pendulum’s park pets. A pale yellow snake designed to look cute and promote the eco expos. Last year had been an air purifier powered by bioluminescent energy.

  Everyone wondered what kind of geniuses had Pendulum. But he knew very well how they had been revolutionizing the world since the 1940’s.

  Luca sighed, glancing around. He was alone. Albert would take at least ten minutes, and Mr. Howard wouldn’t come in as long as he had people to lecture. With a quick motion, he pulled out the pendant and opened the message. The holographic screen expanded in front of him, casting a bluish glow on his face.

  It was from Pendulum, as he’d seen earlier. But this time, it wasn’t a routine notification. It was an invitation for an interview.

  The pendant slipped from his hands, falling against his chest, and the message closed automatically. Luca barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere. How could this be…?

  A few minutes later, Albert returned. "Hey, thanks for covering for me, buddy. I don’t know if it’s the lighting, but you look a little pale. You okay?"

  Luca forced a smile. "It’s nothing. Don’t worry."

  As he returned outside, straight to the blueberries, his mind buzzed with a sole thought and thousands worries.

  An interview with Pendulum.

  It was as if a part of the world he’d been shut out of until now had suddenly appeared right in front of him, right under his nose. And he didn’t know if he could afford to turn his back on it.