Thirty minutes later I sat in a plastic chair, outside the manager’s office, rethinking my life choices.

  Worse than that, I was running out of time.

  “Could I—”

  The attendant glared at me from over her desk, cutting me short.

  My chest twisted and I began to squirm around a bit, struggling to keep my concentration.

  “Ma’am?”

  The attendant groaned. “What is it?”

  “I need to use the bathroom.”

  “Now? Seriously?”

  “Yes.”

  The attendant covered her face in her hands. “Fine. Go. But if we catch so much as a hint of an escape attempt—”

  “Yes I know thank you so very much goodbye!” I blurted, sprinting into the men’s room.

  A man in a suit gave me a weird look as I shoved past him, flinging myself into a nearby stall and slamming the door shut.

  “Quiet!” I hissed.

  The ball in my shirt settled down for but a second, before he gathered strength and tore free from my commands.

  “UGH!” The fairy gagged, covering his nose with one hand of his semi-polymorphous-semi-abstract glowing body. “Don’t you shower?”

  “Not really,” I admitted. “And I’m a lot of trouble.”

  “What were you thinking?” the fairy grumbled. “Nobody would notice?”

  “They’re pretty sure you blew up.”

  “Fairies don’t blow up,” Sharon said, fluttering his tiny translucent wings, of which he now had several. Of course, he was floating, so such wings were completely unnecessary.

  “Yes I know that and you know that but apparently the staff here doesn’t,” I continued, “and I’d really rather not keep you stuck inside a glass ball for the rest of eternity.”

  Sharon flickered in a way I could only consider to be the fairy equivalent to blinking. “I’ve never been stuck in a glass ball.”

  I blinked.

  Sharon scratched the metaphysical interpretation of his nose. “Hey, funny mortal. Who are you again?”

  “I JUST SAVED YOU!” I whisper-hissed.

  “Wasn’t really paying attention.”

  His color shifted from a bright pink, down and down, dipping into a low turquoise.

  “Actually I never pay much attention to anything,” Sharon groaned. “I don’t even know where I am, really.”

  “You’re in a secure union compound,” I hissed. “And we’re—”

  Someone banged on the door. I peeked underneath, recognizing the shoes of the man from earlier.

  “Hey, are you alright in there…”

  “PEACHY!” I screamed.

  “Actually I could use a hug,” Sharon sighed.

  The man hesitated briefly, before quickly shuffling away.

  I let out a breath. “As I was saying, we’re in a lot of danger.”

  “Why bother with anything,” the fairy asked. “Is there a point to go on?”

  “Yes.”

  “Huh.” Sharon sniffed. “Okay.”

  “And right now I have a very important meeting I need to get to,” I said. “Mostly because I destroyed one of the union's priceless ancient artifacts, and now have to convince them not to kill me. Until I come back, you stay here. Stay quiet, and under no circumstances are you allowed to leave this stall.”

  His entire form flickered white, before he brushed the command away. “Fine. Bring me food.”

  Fairies are really something else.

  When I went back to my seat, the attendant was standing. “Grind. Come this way.”

  She led me down a hallway, filled with works of art, the style of which I could explain only as ‘expensive,’ and a theme along the lines of human insignificance.

  One such artwork depicted hoards of weeping people clinging to a tuxedo-clad figure who held wads of cash.

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  I nodded. “Huh.”

  Beyond them, two vast wooden doors opened with groaning machinery, revealing a shadowed interior so dark I couldn't see my own feet.

  “Mr.Williams takes great care to make his office suitably ominous,” the attendant said. “Please, feel frightened. It’ll make him smile.”

  “Lovely.” I swallowed hard. “Lovely.”

  The doors closed behind me, plunging the room into absolute darkness.

  “Grind, is it?” A voice asked, echoing through the chamber. “Are you aware how much trouble you’re in?”

  “The most?” I guessed.

  The voice huffed. “Not a bad start.”

  Red lights flashed on, revealing a man in a full suit. He sat with both elbows on an enormous desk, contemplating. Though he was, admittedly, a little pudgy, there was no ignoring the billowing, all-consuming pressure that filled the room, signalling an immense power within him.

  He lifted his head, glowering down at—

  Oh, hey, I knew this guy.

  “Terror Williams?” I guessed.

  He startled, naturally. “Do I know you?”

  “Uh…”

  Yes but that was in an alternate timeline? You wanted me to join the union immediately? But then Dena killed everyone and I kinda forgot about all that?

  “...No. No sir you do not,” I said.

  Terror scowled. “I try to keep my name a secret, mind you.”

  “Oh there are rumors all around,” I stated. “Very fearsome stuff.”

  He frowned. “I’ll have to speak to somebody about that. Ruins a proper introduction.” He leaned forward, then leaned back, then seemed puzzled for a moment, then hesitant, before finally clapping his hands, signaling for the lights to switch back to normal. “The moment’s gone. Nobody lets a Tungsten have any fun these days…”

  Tungsten? As in, Tungsten like the four-star Core is a Tungsten?

  That’s a lot, right? Like, using spells from across a continent a lot?

  I swallowed.

  Meanwhile, Terror flipped through a stack of papers, before sliding them toward me. “These are the most up-to-date records over your debt to the union.”

  Wait.

  I skimmed through.

  The house, the food, the clothes, the training session—

  “D-debt?” I blubbered.

  He scoffed. “You didn’t seriously expect all this to be free, did you?”

  “Yes?”

  “There’s no such thing as a free lunch,” Terror said. He hesitated. “I mean you could steal it, or get it from a soup kitchen…but the union tolerates neither so it doesn't really matter.”

  “Soup. kitchens.”

  He glanced at me. “Yes. Generosity is the root of weakness. Everyone knows that.”

  What kind of an organization was I getting myself mixed up with?

  He clasped his hands. “Since we still haven’t recovered the fairy, and as we see absolutely no trace of it—”

  Terror summoned one last document, dramatically scotching it closer and closer, until I could just barely make out a massive number.

  “The cost of both will be pulled from your account,” he whispered. “Does that look about right?”

  {Union Debt}

  [Current balance : -1,000,000,000 Qualms]

  [Union debt increases by ten percent every quarter.]

  [Good luck.]

  A handful of qualms could buy a day’s meal.

  For a better visualization, let’s low-ball and say each is worth just a couple dollars.

  Then I’ve gotta pay two billion dollars.

  I’VE GOTTA PAY TWO BILLION DOLLARS?!

  “Judging by the choking sounds you’ve begun making, I’ll assume you’ve read it over,” Terror said.

  “I never agreed to those terms!” I cried, pushing the document back. “Besides, it’s obvious that the equipment was faulty! I have literally no exp! I’m a rookie, I shouldn’t break anything with just mental power, right?”

  “You hit it,” Terror said. “You punched the orb and it shattered, right?”

  “No!” I shouted. “I did exactly as the guide wanted. I touched it, it read my mental output, and broke. Not my fault!”

  Terror clasped his hands together, leaning closer and closer, until I could feel his hot breath on my eyes.

  Eck.

  “You know that, and I know that, but they—” he pointed outside his doors. “They don’t know that.”

  “This is extortion.”

  Terror pursed his lips. “Oooh? Is it now?” He started laughing. “Let’s imagine a crazy scenario. Let’s say, for some reason, when the glass broke, somebody took the fairy. Crazy, right? Yeah? Well, as per company policy, I would have to kill this person. You see, we really don’t like it when people steal our stuff.”

  He grinned from ear to ear, like an American at a burger joint.

  “But I’m a pretty open guy,” Terror said. “I might think differently. I might think to myself, now a man like that? Not only strong enough to take the fairy, but smart enough to know how to use it? Such a man may become useful. In fact, I’d say he’d better be if he wanted any hope of a future.”

  Terror pulled a golden deed from his drawers. Beside this one, there was a seed in a tiny glass box.

  “Now, I’m going to give you ownership of a fairy. And I’m going to look the other way on this little spat we’ve had. But I’ll need something from you in return.”

  “And that is?”

  “Everything,” Terror said. “You know the best part about this game? Nobody dies of old age. So I could stick you in a sweatshop for the rest of eternity, making all the money I want. Or, I could give you access to our most prestigious programs, train you right, and make much more money in less time. I’m good with either, but I’d assume you have a preference.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “Catch?” His eyes narrowed. “Well, as long as you pass the combat exam and keep careful of any fairies you may or may not have and make your grades exceptional and never question any orders you get…then no, there’s not much of a catch at all. I’ve got big plans for you, Grind. Big plans.”

  Terror suddenly looked at—no—through the wooden doors, frowning.

  “The fairy’s causing trouble. Get it and get out of my sight.”

  I grabbed the boxed seed and ran.

  // {Notice} //

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