F-rank danger rating. Bottom of the ladder. Made sense with my stats sitting at zero across the board.
The Status line just said Active. No flags. No red warnings. No indication that five hours ago I'd been unconscious on Earth with no license and no legal way into this city.
"Keep that on you at all times," she said. "Veilguard checks them randomly. Losing it's a pain to replace and you'll get fined if you're caught without one in Ring One or Two."
"Understood."
She handed me two more things.
The pamphlet I'd already seen. And a folded piece of paper with her ClimberNet ID written in neat handwriting.
Lyra K.
The K was underlined twice.
"Thanks," I said again. "Really. You didn't have to do the manual entry."
"You seemed sincere." She shrugged. Went back to looking professional. "And I get too many people who treat this desk like it's a waste of their time. Nice to meet someone who actually appreciates the help."
I pocketed the license.
The pamphlet went in my other pocket.
The paper with her info I held onto.
"I'll message you when I'm less of a disaster," I said.
"I'll hold you to that."
I walked away from her desk before anything else could go wrong.
The lobby was still crowded. More new Awakened coming in. The same nervous energy I'd felt twenty minutes ago except now I was on the other side of it. Licensed. Official. Legally allowed to be here.
I pushed through the doors and back out onto the steps.
Ring One spread out in front of me. Tall buildings. Expensive everything. People who looked like they belonged here moving through the streets with purpose.
I didn't belong here.
Not yet.
But I had a license with my name on it and a girl with pink hair who'd agreed to take me into the Tower tomorrow morning.
I pulled out my compass.
The needle spun for a second. Then settled.
Pointed left. Down the street toward whatever direction left meant in a city I'd been in for less than two hours.
I followed the needle.
Left down the main boulevard. The street opened up wider than anything I'd seen in my old district. Shops lined both sides with windows full of gear that probably cost more than my entire year's salary from the delivery routes. People walked past wearing armor that looked functional and expensive. Not costume pieces. Real equipment that had seen real use.
The compass pulled me forward.
I walked for ten minutes. The buildings got taller. The crowds got thinner. This part of Ring One didn't want foot traffic. It wanted people who belonged.
The needle pointed straight ahead now.
At a restaurant.
Not a restaurant. The kind of place that had a name in script above the door and windows tinted just enough that you couldn't see inside clearly. Veilgate's crest hung near the entrance. Official seal. That meant government-adjacent or guild-sanctioned or both.
I stopped at the corner.
The compass needle held steady. Dead center on the building.
What the hell was I supposed to want in there?
I'd eaten two protein bars today and half a sandwich six hours ago on the roof before everything went sideways. Food made sense. My stomach agreed with that assessment. But this wasn't the kind of place you walked into wearing street clothes and no money.
The needle didn't care about my objections.
I crossed the street.
A doorman stood outside. Tall guy. Armor under his suit jacket. He looked at me the way security looks at anyone who doesn't match the venue.
"Help you?"
"Just looking."
"This is a private establishment. Reservation only."
I nodded. Started to turn away.
Then I heard it.
A voice I knew better than most voices. Coming through the door when someone else walked out. Carried on the sound of conversation and clinking glasses and the specific acoustic quality of a room full of people who could afford to be there.
"Thank you so much for the opportunity. I know I haven't even climbed yet, but I promise I'll live up to your expectations."
Sabrina.
Her voice had that quality it always got when she was talking to adults she wanted to impress. Slightly higher pitch. Genuine enthusiasm wrapped in performative professionalism. I'd heard it when she talked to our old school counselor about college applications that didn't matter anymore.
I took three steps toward the window.
The tint wasn't perfect. If you stood at the right angle and the light hit correctly you could see inside.
Six people at a corner table. Four men in expensive suits with the kind of posture that said corporate or guild leadership. One woman in armor that looked ceremonial. And Sabrina.
She wore something I'd never seen her in. A dress. Dark blue. Her hair was down instead of up. She'd done her makeup.
One of the men raised a glass.
"A talent like yours comes around once every five years. Bloom Binder with Bind affinity and dual talents?" He shook his head like he still couldn't believe it. "We're lucky you chose us."
The woman in armor leaned forward. "The support division has been waiting for someone with your profile. You'll have access to the best squads from day one."
Sabrina smiled.
That smile.
The real one she used when she was actually happy. Not the performance smile. The one that made her eyes do that thing where they got slightly smaller at the corners.
She lifted her own glass. Water probably. She didn't drink alcohol. Said it made her feel disconnected from her body in a way she didn't like.
"I'm just grateful to be here," she said. "After everything that happened at the ceremony—" She stopped. Reset. "I mean, I know how competitive guild recruitment is. Having your support means everything."
After everything that happened at the ceremony.
That was me.
The thing that happened.
I was the asterisk in her success story. The context she had to acknowledge and move past to get to the part where her future started.
The man who'd spoken first put his glass down. "You're going to do great things, Sabrina. We saw your preliminary stats. That Ichor rating at Level One is exceptional."
"I got lucky with the draw."
"Luck is when preparation meets opportunity." He gestured to the others at the table. "And we're here to make sure you have every opportunity available."
They kept talking.
I stopped listening.
My hand found the compass inside my shirt. The metal was warm from being against my chest. The needle still pointed directly at the window.
At her.