I woke at precisely 0600 hours, just like the morning before and every other day for as long as memory served. The familiar black ceiling of the barracks greeted me. Without hesitation, I swung my legs over the edge of my assigned bunk and dropped to the cold floor below.
Around me, my fellow trainees did the same. No words were exchanged—none were needed.
I approached my nightstand, its black metal surface shined my reflection back at me as I pulled out the drawer. My folded uniform waited inside and once picked up revealed a paper beneath it. I had a feeling I knew what the paper was but I did not dare to touch it without permission and just closed the drawer, I dressed quickly, not wasting any time.
Once dressed, I took my place in line alongside the 182 others who stood on the left side of the room standing across from the other group. We stood at attention, backs straight, eyes forward, awaiting Master 337's arrival. The air felt different today—charged with anticipation and anxiety. For today was not like the countless days before.
Today, everything would change.
The familiar sound of Master 337's boots hitting the paved walkway in front of the barracks echoed her arrival before she appeared in the doorway. Just like always walking a couple feet into the room before coming to a stop but instead of the simple nod she usually gave before we turned to go to morning class she raised the voice magnifying pen to her lips and opened up her mouth to speak.
"Inside your nightstands," she announced, her voice carrying the authority of someone who had never needed to raise it to command attention, "you will find a piece of paper with your name on it. This is the document you will present to the deployment officer. Retrieve it and prepare for permanent departure from the farm and in turn the first floor."
A flutter of excitement rippled through our otherwise stoic ranks. Permanent departure. Words we had dreamed of hearing since we were born.
We broke formation in an orderly fashion, each returning to our respective nightstands. I pulled open the drawer and where I saw the same paper as before, a crisp white paper bearing my designation: "388m-77" sat. No other name had ever been necessary within these walls. On it the seal of the council stamped neatly at the bottom. It was a simple design, four figures held out their hands with the text "Trust without question, obey without doubt, look do not see."
The paper felt impossibly light for something that would determine my entire future. I folded it carefully and slipped it into my pocket before returning to formation.
Once reassembled, Master 337 led us from the barracks. We marched in perfect synchronization through the farm, past the combat building where we had spilled blood and tears, beyond the lecture hall where we had memorized the Sacred Protocols of the Library.
For the first time in our lives, we were leaving our training grounds, we were leaving the confines of the first floor.
"Keep formation," Master 337 barked as we fully exited farm 365.
We marched for forty-five minutes across the immaculate grassland. Looking back, Farm 365—one of my many homes over the last 18 years—was now just a tiny structure in the distance, indistinguishable from the others.
Ahead loomed the Central Transfer Hub, 10 massive circular platforms arranged in a perfect ring. Each platform glossed in a metallic white, opposite of everything we have ever known.
Master 337 brought us to a halt before the hub. She turned to face us, her expression unchanged but something, almost like pride, flickered momentarily in her eyes.
"I will now divide you into nine groups of thirty-six, and one group of forty-one," she announced through her voice-magnifying pen. "Your group will stand atop the designated platform. Upon entering the Second Layer, you will proceed to the corresponding deployment line with the same group. Everyone understand?"
Silence.
Master 337 began calling out designations, organizing us into our final groupings. My heart sank as I realized I was being separated from Eight and Leaner. Eight was assigned to Platform 3, Leaner to Platform 7, while I was directed to Platform 5.
We exchanged brief glances as we separated, would I ever see them again in the vast expanse of the Library? The thought created a not so unfamiliar tightness in my chest.
Standing on Platform 5 with thirty-five strangers who had trained alongside me for years, I felt suddenly alone. We arranged ourselves in concentric circles as instructed, facing outward toward the endless expanse of the First Floor.
Master 337 remained on the grass, looking at all ten platforms now filled with graduates. She raised her voice-magnifying pen to her lips one final time.
"Trust without question, obey without doubt, look do not see," she intoned, reciting the sacred mantra that had been burned into our consciousness. "Hold these words with you closely as you move to loyally serve the High Council and protect the Library. I congratulate you all and, on behalf of the High Council, I thank you for your service."
The moment her final word echoed across the hub, a deep humming began beneath our feet. The platform vibrated, then smoothly detached from the ground. I instinctively stepped back from the edge, then, overcome with curiosity, carefully peered over.
Master 337 grew smaller below us as we ascended toward the impossibly high ceiling. As we rose, my perspective expanded, revealing the true magnitude of the First Floor—a perfect circle with thousands of raining grounds arranged in precise circles working inwards. The sight was breathtaking, a living geometry that had been my entire universe until this moment.
The ceiling above us began to part, revealing a circular opening that grew larger as we approached. Light—different from the regulated illumination of the First Floor—spilled down around us. It was warmer, more golden, almost alive.
I looked up toward our destination: the Second Layer of the Citadel, where we would receive our permanent assignments.
My hand pressed against the paper in my pocket—my identity, my future, my purpose.
The First Floor, my entire world until now, was already becoming a memory.