After orientation, we split into our respective departments. Etsuko and I followed the clerks, while Heiwa, Min, and her brother slipped into the security wing.
"Interesting oath," I whispered, trailing the senior clerk who led us down the polished hall.
"Interesting is one way to phrase it," Etsuko replied dryly.
Eventually, we were shown to our workstations. This was where we parted ways — her to hers, me to mine.
"A typewriter," I muttered, eyes tracing the gleaming Pneumatic tube system as the orientation continued. "Introduction to incident intake protocols: how to take calls, log messages, and prioritize reports," the senior clerk intoned. Around me, uniformed men and women buzzed with varying levels of focus and curiosity.
"Alright, here's your first assignment," the clerk said, adjusting his glasses, gaze steady. "Transcribe a mock incident from a senior clerk: a goat turned into a block of cheese overnight."
Some glanced around, trying not to laugh. Others raised eyebrows in disbelief.
"He just wants us familiar with reporting procedures," whispered the clerk next to me.
I looked to Mr. Jiwon, who carried on with a blank expression, ignoring the absurdity.
"Victoria," I said, introducing myself to the girl beside me.
"Amihan," she replied, neatly poised, hair tied back, eyes sharp and alert. Her gaze reminded me of Zara — calculating, patient, unflinching.
"I'm from Mìlín Zhōu. You?"
"Húmāo Zhōu," I said, matching her rhythm as she placed her sheet on the typewriter. Then I noticed the papers had glyphs at one point like stars.
"I see," she murmured, fingers dancing over the keys.
I ran my hand across the oak surface. Smooth. Solid. The chair high-backed, leather seat worn but firm. Not bad. The office smelled of ink, paper, and faint polish — orderly and alive.
"What are you doing?" she asked after a while, glancing at me while continuing her typing.
"Getting a feel for the environment," I replied, settling in at my own machine. I paused to consult the manual conveniently left on my desk.
CONCORD LIAISON OFFICE
Regional Directorate: Eastern Front Constellation Oversight: Aries Classification: Tier II — Internal Review Clerk ID: SEA-ARIES-1895-025 Filed By: Junior L. Victoria Date: 4 Opaline 1895
SUBJECT:
Irregular Transmutation Disturbance — Kinta Valley Outskirts
1. Source of Information
At approximately 19:32 local time, a district constable reported:
Sudden temperature drop (6–8 degrees below seasonal norm)
Visible frost forming on foliage despite humidity
Livestock agitation and subsequent collapse (two goats deceased)
Report delivered via telegraph, verified by municipal signature. Appendix A contains original message transcription.
2. Preliminary Review
No prior Concord registration for an anomaly within 40 miles
Barometric readings show minor deviations within technical margin
Incident may be environmental, though frost in a tropical valley is anomalous
3. Witness Accounts
One described "breathing fog moving against the wind"
One reported "metal striking glass" with no visible source
One refused further comment
Consistency unverified due to absence of Concord personnel at time of filing.
4. Material Evidence
No physical samples secured
Retrieval authorization requested
5. Risk Assessment (Preliminary)
Suggested classification: Tier I (Observation Required)
Monitor indicators: repetition at same hour, further livestock mortality, human physiological impact, residual Lambda signature
Recommendation: Notify Iota for passive surveillance; no Delta or Beta deployment advised at present
6. Personal Note (Administrative)
Request guidance regarding frost phenomena classification. Cross-reference archive entry (1881, Manipur Ridge) suggests similar conditions preceded minor wraith manifestation. May be coincidental. Awaiting instruction.
Filed respectfully, M. Victoria Junior Clerk
By the time I handed the report to the senior clerk, it was 11:50 a.m. I had spend two hours transcribing and cross-referencing. The manual conveniently left on my desk was turning out to be a helpful guide.
"I'm tired," Amihan sighed, resting her head on the desk.
"What now?" I asked, running my fingers along the fountain pen.
"Lunch break, 12:00," she replied, still half-asleep.
"Oh," I said, delight at the small reward of midday. "Did you bring lunch?"
"No, cafeteria," she replied. Of course.
"What room are you in?" she asked, stretching.
"B-2-5," I replied. She chuckled. "B-1-5. I was among the earliest."
"I'd like to have lunch with my roommate and friend. Join?" I offered.
She smiled and agreed. At the stroke of 12, we left for the cafeteria.
The afternoon passed with a mock incident call. A senior clerk read a scenario over the telephone; we logged, coded, and forwarded the reports to the correct departments. By 4 p.m., I was drafting a daily log, shadowing senior clerks, and slowly realizing just how precise — and exhausting — Concord's world was.
When I finally reached my bed, I was spent. Fingers aching, mind buzzing, heart quietly proud.
This was my first day.
And tomorrow, the work would begin in earnest.