Captain Oren led the foreign expedition along the broad central avenue, where the morning market operated with chilling algorithmic precision.
At the ration stall, a mother counted her coins while her son leaned against her without enough strength to stand.
Juna noticed their empty hands before the civic slate could classify their need as a manageable delay.
Rows of uniform stalls stretched beneath high arched colonnades, their counters laden with sorted grains, dried legumes, and folded bolts of wool.
No vendor called out to attract passing shoppers, and no customer haggled over the established prices displayed upon the luminous civic slates.
Loccy glanced at the silent stalls with a skeptical frown, leaning closer to the summoner.
"Nobody is bartering or laughing, and not a single customer argues over bruised fruit."
Captain Oren kept his steps steady as he led the party along the arched colonnade.
