The car slowed as it approached a gated entrance.
Two armored acolytes stepped forward.
One inspected the vehicle exterior while the other scanned the identification tag projected onto the windshield. Essence signatures were briefly sampled, compared and cleared.
Only after several checks did the barrier rise.
Adam glanced at Redy.
"That’s a first. I’m used to just badging into a mission hall."
She guided the car forward.
"Things are run differently around here."
"I can see that."
Mid-tier sectors security scaled with population and mission density.
As they drove deeper into the compound, parking proved scarce. Vehicles lined designated zones with little space between them.
Redy exhaled lightly.
"Head in. I’ll et you inside after I find a place to park."
Adam nodded and stepped out.
The car pulled away, as he turned toward the building.
It was a behemoth.
Low-tier mission halls were large by necessity, they were rugged and fortified structures built for durability. This one felt corporate. It had a polished exterior, a glass frontage and multiple entry points.
Basically it was a structure built for efficiency over brute architecture.
Martial artists moved in and out steadily.
So wore visible armants. Others had conduits strapped along their limbs. A few, like him, were dressed casually.
Taking one last look Adam entered.
The interior was busy.
Reception desks lined the central floor, each staffed by attendants processing registrations, mission assignnts and disputes. Despite the number of desks, every single one had a line.
Traffic volu was significantly higher than anything he had experienced before.
To the left, a staircase led upward.
Likely the Martial Market.
He then stepped into a line and waited.
A mont later, a broad-shouldered man slamd into him from behind and stepped ahead, inserting himself into the line.
He turned with a smirk.
"Better luck next ti."
Adam said nothing.
He activated Mind Control.
"Step aside."
The man’s gaze went blank.
He stepped out of the line obediently.
Then, without a word, he turned and walked out of the mission hall entirely.
A few people nearby glanced over before returning to their business. They had co to a conclusion that the man might have had urgent matters to attend to.
anwhile Adam resud his place.
He could have released his killing intent.
But that would have drawn attention.
And attention was inefficient.
Mind Control was cleaner.
Why struggle with an idiot weaker than you when compliance required a single command?
Did his conscience object?
No.
Power existed to be used.
He waited calmly.
A few minutes later, Redy entered.
Her eyes found him imdiately and she walked over and stood beside him in line.
Redy glanced at him.
"Did I miss anything?"
"I don’t think so."
He paused briefly.
"You found sowhere to park quickly."
She smiled faintly.
"That’s the funniest thing. So large guy seed to be in a hurry sowhere, so I took his space. Can you believe that?"
Adam looked at her.
"Yeah. Makes sense."
He faced forward again.
The line continued to move.
Soon, it was their turn.
They stepped up to the desk.
The receptionist was a Lizardkin, she had scaled skin reflecting the overhead lights faintly, slit-like irises narrowing and widening as she focused on them. Her presence triggered a brief instinctual response in Adam.
Predatory reflex.
He suppressed it imdiately.
She wasn’t a monster.
I really have a problem.
"How can I help you?" she asked professionally.
"I’m here to reapply for my martial license."
"Na, sir?"
"John Doe."
Her clawed fingers moved across the keyboard and a holographic panel appeared between them.
Details populated the screen.
Na: John Doe
Cultivation Talent: E Rank
Special Talent: None
Rank: Profound Apprentice
On the right side was an image.
A younger-looking John Doe wearing a fedora hat and a neat goatee.
Adam’s current face bore resemblance but it was more refined.
The Lizardkin receptionist looked at him again.
"Is everything correct here, sir?"
Adam gave Redy a slight glance.
She nodded subtly.
"Yes," he replied.
"Good. All you need to do is pay the recovery fine, and we’ll process a replacent license."
She tilted her head slightly.
"Will there be anything else?"
Redy stepped forward.
"Yes. There is."
The receptionist shifted her attention.
"I want to register him to our martial team."
"Oh."
Her claws tapped again.
"Let bring up the team registration form."
The registration form materialized in layered panels before the receptionist.
"Please fill this out," she said, turning the interface toward Redy.
Redy stepped forward and began entering the required information.
Adam observed quietly.
There were nurous fields, team structure, operational tier, funding category, mission preference zones, liability waivers. Administrative density reflected by the region’s scale.
But only two entries caught his attention.
Team Na: Eden
Fellowship: Soul God
I almost forgot that existed.
Religion.
Or sothing structured like it.
Adam had never been religious. Most non-martial citizens weren’t. Faith had little appeal when survival depended on asurable power.
But when forming a martial team, fellowship declaration was mandatory.
He didn’t know the full reason but he suspected it had sothing to do with the higher ranks.
There were four primary Gods recognized under the Alliance doctrine:
The God of Wisdom.
The God of Stars.
The God of Void.
The God of Souls.
There were minor gods as well, but they were rarely referenced at structural levels.
Martial artists weren’t required to participate in any known rituals.
They simply identified under one.
Classification without devotion.
It’s as if they’re separating us into factions.
Adam had never invested effort into understanding it.
He valued systems he could asure.
After Redy finished, she added John Doe to the team roster and he was now officially integrated.
The receptionist processed the submission.
"Recovery fine confird."
She printed and activated a new martial license card, sliding it across the desk, as Adam picked it up.
Its weight was slightly heavier than the low-tier versions and its embedded chips were more refined.
"John Doe is now an official mber of Eden and he will be recognized within Tristan and all Alliance jurisdiction as such."
With that out of the way Adam accepted a mission to run a rift and after that he and Redy exited the mission hall together, the doors sliding open automatically as they stepped outside.
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