Looking down at the platform, I noticed a large number 5 inlaid in black on the ground. When the platform reached the top, it slipped flush into place, hissing and letting out a cold breeze as it stopped. Looking around, I could see the other platforms arriving simultaneously. The second floor of the citadel was similar to the first—empty and inconceivably large.
In front of me sat a person dressed in all black at a desk.
"Congratulations, Farm 365," a disembodied voice called out. "Please step forward to your corresponding desk."
Another black five marked the ground in front of the desk, creating a hard contrast against the glistening white floor. Looking around, I began to feel my heart race as if it were trying to escape my chest. Before I had time to think about it, everyone began scurrying to form a line. Gone was the choreographed order of the farm—now my classmates pushed and pulled like animals for the front spot.
I began searching my pocket for my deployment paper, my fingers frantically moving until my hand brushed up against it. After a few seconds of chaos, I found myself near the middle of the line. One by one, the people ahead of me went through the portal.
When I reached the front, the dispatcher sat quietly, awaiting my form. His face was covered by a black mask, his eyes obscured by a luminous white light and down the bottom half of his mask ran a vertical slit that sat unassumingly. I placed my deployment form on the table and slowly slid it towards him.
Without moving his neck, he reached down and lifted the form to his face. Like an undertaker reviewing my life, he studied the paper, quietly murmuring under his breath. The slit on his mask lighting up with every sound he made.
While waiting, my attention was drawn to the portal. Set off to the right was a round frame built atop a few steps. Within the frame was a permeating darkness that grumbled like an ancient evil. It warped and changed, pulling the white from the frame like thread from clothes, blending the colors into itself.
"388m-77, you are to be deployed in section 43,090,874-9," the dispatcher said plainly, his voice devoid of any emotion that might suggest this was anything but routine. For him, it wasn't. For me, it was everything.
He reached beneath his station and produced a bundle of clothing and armor, all in the deepest black that seemed to absorb the light around it rather than reflect it. The material looked almost liquid in its smoothness, yet rigid in structure.
"Your designation is Librarian," he continued, placing each piece on the counter with mechanical precision. "Please change into these and make your way through the portal."
With a dismissive gesture, he slapped a folded black cloak on top of the various components of the sleek, finite armor set. Next to them, he placed a short sword that stood in stark contrast to everything else—pure white from pommel to tip, with a double-edged blade that tapered to a point so fine it seemed to disappear into the air.
Librarian, huh? The designation echoed in my mind. I guess I should have figured. Whatever... it's as good a job as any, I suppose.
Reluctantly, I gathered the uniform he had set out for me and moved to the side of the desk, closer to the swirling blue-white portal that dominated the space next to the desk..
As I slipped into the armor, I was surprised by its weight—or rather, the lack thereof. Despite its solid appearance, each piece felt lighter than fabric, molding to my body like a second skin. The material adjusted automatically, tightening here, loosening there, until it fit perfectly. With each piece I attached, I felt less like myself and more like... something else. Something owned.
The sword, when I finally attached it to my hip, was the only item that had any real weight to it. Not heavy, but substantial. Purposeful.
After I was fully suited up, I looked to the dispatcher who simply pressed a few buttons, activating the portal. The air crackled with energy as the swirling blue light intensified. He gestured to it with a casual flick of his hand, already looking past me to the next person in line.
Well, this is it. The reality of the moment crashed over me in waves. Once I set foot through this portal, I'll never see the Citadel again... I'll never see these people again... I'll never see my friends again.
I slowly turned my head left and right, scanning the massive hall filled with hundreds of new deployees. Somewhere in this crowd were Eight and Leaner—the only two people I'd dared to call friends during our training years.
After only a moment of searching through the sea of people, the dispatcher started clearing his throat—an annoying, performative sound meant to hurry me along. The line behind me shifted restlessly.
So with that, I cleared my mind and focused on the task at hand. Finally, after all this time, I get to prove my use to the High Council and thank them for their blessings upon this world.
The mantra felt hollow now, rehearsed rather than believed. But it was all I had to cling to.
With one last look at the only home I'd ever known, I straightened my shoulders under the weight of my new identity. Slowly but confidently, I stepped toward the portal. The energy field prickled against my skin, raising the fine hairs on my arms beneath the armor.
I didn't look back as I stepped through. I was no longer just trainee 388m-77.
I was a Librarian.