Reever sat back into the ergonomic chair, the material adjusting itself around his frame with unsettling precision. Elderwood took the seat beside him, though "took" was generous. He lowered himself as if gravity had suddenly become personal, his shoulders stiff, fingers fidgeting on his knees.
Across from them sat the mayor.
She looked nothing like what Reever had expected. Mid thirties, sharp features softened by calm confidence, ash grey office suit tailored perfectly to her form. High heels rested neatly beneath the desk, one leg crossed over the other. She was composed in the way only people with real authority ever were. Not loud. Not intimidating. Just certain.
Reever noticed, quietly, that the system had done an excellent job making people look good in a virtual world.
The mayor tapped a few keys on her desk and looked up, her eyes locking onto Reever.
"State your name," she said.
"Bot 067," Reever replied without hesitation.
Her eyebrow lifted slightly, just enough to suggest curiosity, not judgment. She typed again.
"Rank."
"Rookie IV."
This time, her fingers paused.
She looked at him properly now, eyes scanning his frame, his posture, the unnatural stillness he carried without realizing it. Something unreadable flickered across her expression before she leaned back slightly.
"Rookie IV," she repeated. "Interesting."
Then her gaze shifted.
She turned toward Elderwood and cleared her throat.
The sound alone made him straighten like a soldier called to attention.
"How have you been doing, Elderwood," she asked.
"I have been well," he replied too quickly. "Very well. Healthy. Alive. Still breathing."
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"How is my daughter," Elderwood added, unable to stop himself.
The temperature in the room dropped.
"That," the mayor said calmly, "is none of your concern."
Elderwood swallowed.
"You left us," she continued, her voice even. "You forfeited that right a long time ago. Forget about meeting her."
He leaned forward, desperation cracking through his composure.
"Pauline, please," he said. "I know I was wrong. I admit it. I made mistakes. I was selfish. I should never have left. I regret it every day. I just want to see Jessica. Just once."
Reever watched the exchange with mild fascination, like someone observing a live wire while standing at a safe distance.
Pauline did not look at Elderwood.
She turned back to her screen.
"This meeting is not about you," she said. "Sit down."
Elderwood did. Slowly. Defeated.
Pauline refocused on Reever.
"Age," she said.
Reever froze.
Age.
His mind went blank.
He searched through his memory. There was no number attached to him. He was old.More than five hundred years. He did not know how to answer to that. He was in the wrong era and he had failed to come up with a fitting age.
Pauline waited.
"I understand that age can be a personal thing as many people never like announcing their age, but we need it here so that we can make a complete entry pass. Plus age is nothing to be ashamed of." she said.
Elderwood glanced at him, confused.
Reever calculated rapidly. Too young would raise questions. Too old would not match his rank. He tried to think of sensible age that he could use without raising suspicions. After countless tough seconds of churning his mind, Circuits or whatever he had, he found the perfect age fitting his status and situation.
He cleared his throat.
"Twenty five," he said.
It sounded… acceptable.
Pauline typed it in without comment.
She finished entering the data, then turned her screen slightly so he could see the total.
"Registration fee is three hundred CP," she said. "Confirm payment."
A system notification appeared before Reever's eyes.
He accepted.
The balance dropped without ceremony.
A soft hum filled the room as a small bluish card materialized on the desk. Pauline picked it up and slid it across to him.
"Your entry pass," she said. "Do not lose it."
He took it, examining the faint glow embedded within.
"And one more thing," she added, her eyes shifting briefly toward Elderwood. "For your own safety, do not get too close to him."
Elderwood winced.
Reever inclined his head slightly. "Understood."
Pauline stood, signaling the end of the meeting.
Elderwood opened his mouth as if to say something else, then thought better of it.
They left in silence.
Outside the administrative block, the noise of the city felt distant, like it belonged to another layer of reality. Reever checked his timer.
Three hours remaining.
Enough.
"This is where we split," Reever said.
Elderwood looked at him, forcing a smile. "Yeah. I figured."
"Thank you," Reever said. "For helping me."
A notification appeared in Elderwood's interface.
Five hundred CP added.
Elderwood stared at it, then up at Reever.
"You really don't understand money, do you," he muttered.
Reever gave a faint shrug.
"I will see you around," Elderwood said, turning away before his expression could betray him.
Reever watched him go.
Then he turned toward the library, the glow of its entrance visible in the distance.
Three hours was more than enough time to learn what this world expected of him next.
And this time, he would walk in prepared.