The chime was different this time. It wasn't the soft, welcoming melody of his first Quest, but a sharper, more businesslike tone that cut through the morning quiet of Alek's apartment. He was already awake, sitting at his small table and mechanically eating a nutrient bar, his black eyes fixed on the terminal screen. He'd been waiting for it.
The System was nothing if not punctual.
**NEW QUEST AVAILABLE.**
**OBJECTIVE:** DELIVER PACKAGE TO OCCUPANT OF UNIT 7B, TOWER 4, THE ARBORETUM RESIDENTIAL ZONE. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO OPEN OR SCAN THE PACKAGE.
**METHOD:** DIRECT DELIVERY ONLY. VERIFY RECIPIENT VIA BIOMETRIC SCAN.
**TIME LIMIT:** 120 MINUTES.
**REWARD:** 50 CREDITS.
**FAILURE PENALTY:** NONE.
Alek's eyes lingered on the reward. Fifty credits. Double his first payout. It was a significant step up, enough to cover his weekly food synth allowance with plenty left over. The task itself was simple, another errand. But the specifics—the prohibition on scanning, the biometric verification—lent it a weight the coffee run had lacked.
A soft whirring sound came from the corner of his room. A compartment he hadn't noticed before slid open in the smooth, white wall, revealing a small, matte-black box, sealed with a simple magnetic lock. The System's logistics were, as ever, flawless and faintly unnerving.
He finished his breakfast, the nutrient bar tasting like chalk. His reflection in the dark screen watched him, a gray-haired ghost in the sterile room. It's just a delivery, he told himself. A test of reliability. Nothing more.
The city outside was fully awake, a symphony of controlled chaos. Mag-lev transports hummed along elevated tracks, their paths a complex, interweaving dance dictated by the System's traffic algorithms. Alek joined the flow of pedestrians, the black box a cool, dense weight in the pocket of his jacket.
He took a dedicated "Courier Lane" on the transport, his comm-unit automatically flashing a green symbol that granted him priority standing room. No one questioned it; it was simply the way things worked. Quest-Completers were the capillaries of the city, and the System gave them right-of-way.
The Arboretum Zone was a step up from his own sector. Here, the air was filtered through vast, vertical gardens that climbed the sides of the residential towers, and the pervasive ozone tang was replaced by the faint, artificial scent of pine and rain. The people here wore clothes of finer synth-silk, their movements less hurried. They were likely on more advanced Career Arcs, their lives a comfortable, well-rewarded groove worn deep by years of compliance.
He found Tower 4, a spire of gleaming obsidian and green glass. The lobby was silent, save for the whisper of the climate control. Unit 7B was on the seventy-first floor. The elevator required a Quest Authorization from his comm to ascend past the fiftieth.
The door to 7B was unadorned metal. He pressed the annunciator plate.
There was a long pause. Alek was about to press it again when the door slid open with a quiet hiss. The man standing there was older, his hair thinning, his face etched with a deep-seated weariness that no amount of filtered air could cleanse. He wore a simple, high-quality house robe, but his eyes were what held Alek's attention. They were the eyes of someone who had seen too many completed Quests.
The man's gaze dropped to the black box in Alek's hand, then flicked up to his gray hair. A knowing, almost pitying look passed over his features.
"New Completer," the man stated, his voice a dry rasp. It wasn't a question.
Alek nodded, unsure of what to say.
"How many in?" the man asked.
"Th-This is my second," Alek replied, his own voice sounding young and uncertain in the quiet hallway.
A bitter, silent laugh seemed to pass through the man. He held out his hand. "Let's get this over with."
Alek proffered the box. A thin beam of red light emerged from his comm-unit, scanning the man's palm. A soft chime confirmed the biometric match. The magnetic lock on the box disengaged with a definitive click.
The man took the box, his fingers closing around it like a vice. He didn't open it. He just looked at Alek, his expression unreadable.
"Don't get used to the easy ones," the man said, his voice low. "They're the bait."
Before Alek could form a response, the door hissed shut, leaving him alone in the silent, sterile corridor.
The words hung in the air, more substantial than the package he'd just delivered. Bait.
His comm chimed, the sound jarringly cheerful.
**QUEST COMPLETE.**
**REWARD: 50 CREDITS.**
**CURRENT BALANCE: 85 CREDITS.**
**AWAITING NEXT INSTRUCTION.**
He was richer. He had proven reliable. The System was pleased.
But as he descended in the elevator, the image of the man's weary, knowing eyes was seared into his mind. The coffee had been a lesson in economics. This delivery had been a lesson in something else entirely. It was a lesson in consequence, in the chain of cause and effect that he was now a part of, a chain whose final links were rumored to be dark and unseen.
He had completed the Quest flawlessly. So why did he feel like he had just failed a test he didn't know he was taking?