Chương 10: Until Further Notice

Cecilia found Iris on the third floor, cross-legged on the bed with a notebook and a pen. Working on the list, from the look of it. There was no one else in the room. No guard outside the door. Cecilia had left that instruction on purpose. She leaned against the doorframe.

"How many?" Iris looked up with the same slight delay her brother had, the pause that meant she was choosing words rather than reaching for them.

"Eleven names. Four I can't find contact information for."

"Leave those for now. The ones you can reach, prioritize by how recently they were active." Iris added a note.

"Some of them I know personally. Some are forum names." She paused.

"There's one person who modded the economy in a game I used to play. She'd be useful."

"Name?"

"Online, she goes by Nullroute. Her real name is Serena Marini." Cecilia filed it.

"Can you reach her?"

"I have an old email. I don't know if it's working."

"Try when you get a signal window. Flag it for Bianca if you make contact." She looked at the bed, the notebook, the way Iris had made a small work area out of a room that wasn't intended for it.

"Are you comfortable here?" Iris nodded.

"Yes. Luca is... he's good at this."

"Yes," Cecilia said.

"He is." Iris looked down at the notebook.

"He doesn't like to be around people."

"I've noticed." She waited, but Iris didn't say more.

"Is that why you're surprised he signed the agreement?"

"A little. But he was right. There wasn't a better choice." Iris glanced up, a flash of something behind the composed exterior.

"Are you going to let me see him? After you take him somewhere?" Cecilia had expected that question, though perhaps not from Iris specifically. It was the kind of thing people thought about after being cooped up for two days in an organization they didn't understand. She'd made a point of not isolating Iris the way some would have, but there was still a limit.

"I'm not taking him anywhere against his will," Cecilia said.

"You can see that, can't you?" Iris considered her for a moment. Then she nodded.

"Yes. You don't need to separate us to control him."

"That's not why I brought you both to the same building."

"No." Iris put the pen down on the notebook.

"You brought me here to make it easier for him to work." That was more insight than Cecilia had credited, and it changed her assessment of the sister slightly.

"Yes. Worrying about you would have been a distraction."

"And now it isn't."

"And now he knows you're safe, and his focus is on what we're paying him for." Cecilia pushed off the doorframe.

"I have no interest in interfering with your relationship. If you want to see your brother, go to his room. Neither of you will be monitored. But don't leave this building without an escort. Understand?"

"Yes," Iris said. She paused.

"What will you do with us? After." Cecilia thought about what she intended for Luca, what she expected him to become. Iris wouldn't get the unvarnished version, but she was too perceptive for a lie.

"I'm giving you both work that suits you," Cecilia said.

"I have no intention of changing that arrangement unless your work stops suiting me. Fair?" Iris nodded slowly.

"Fair." Cecilia turned to leave. Then, on an afterthought, she stopped and looked back.

"What's your class?" Iris blinked, surprised.

"Oh." She pulled up the System interface, the air refracting around her eyes.

"I chose... Sparkcaller. The one about building connections." Cecilia committed that to memory and left her to her work. Luca was sitting at the desk in his room with three sheets of paper in front of him and the System interface still glowing. Cecilia watched him for a moment before he noticed she was there, long enough to see him mutter to himself and write something in a corner of one of the sheets. She rapped her knuckles on the doorframe.

He looked up, his focus recalibrating in a way that reminded her of the way Bianca came out of a task.

"Yes."

"Are your abilities listed now?"

"Partially." He touched the edge of the interface as if he could expand it physically.

"They're called skills. The language is strange. Not standard RPG terminology." She waited.

"I have one called 'Load-Bearing.' It's a passive skill that identifies structural weaknesses in systems. But 'systems' is defined so broadly it's almost useless right now. And I don't know what triggers it, or if there's a progression mechanic. There's no progression tree."

"Tell me about it." He leaned back in the chair, the movement making the old wood creak.

"Earlier today, Matteo and I were talking about a contract clause. While we were speaking, something highlighted the section we were looking at. I didn't prompt it. I just knew it was the most efficient point to change the outcome. I thought it was a one-off. Then I looked at the supply inventory Ruggiero was working on, and I immediately saw the three points where distribution would fail under pressure." Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

"Can you show me?"

"Only if you can see the interface." He gestured at the space in front of him.

"I see overlays. It's like a filter that only activates under specific conditions." She filed that as a limitation they'd need to work around.

"Can you trigger it intentionally?" He shook his head.

"Not yet. It's tied to something I don't have a word for. The closest approximation is a... resonance with certain kinds of logic. Which is irritating, because if the skill is based on pattern recognition, it should be measurable." He frowned at the System interface as if it had personally offended him.

"Do you have other skills?"

"One," he said.

"Framework. It's listed as 'Active,' but I can't activate it yet. There's a condition I haven't met. It says 'available upon system identification,' whatever that means."

"Guess."

"Probably when I identify a specific kind of structure. An organization, a system of rules, something with internal logic that affects other things. The names seem literal. Load-Bearing identifies the foundations of something. Framework probably lets me manipulate them." He paused.

"But it's speculation."

"It's more than we had an hour ago." She watched him for a moment longer.

"Your sister wants to see you." His expression didn't shift, but she saw the tension leave his shoulders.

"She spoke to you?"

"She asked for reassurance."

"What did you tell her?"

"That nothing had changed." She tilted her head slightly.

"Has anything changed?" He was quiet for longer than that question required.

"Not exactly," he said finally.

"But this isn't just about her safety anymore." She had suspected he would realize that soon, and she didn't need to say it back to him. It was a cost of employment he had willingly accepted.

"You knew what I am before you agreed to work here," she said.

"I'm not changing terms. I'm just applying them." He looked down at the papers on the desk, at the half-completed notes about systems he was still trying to map.

"No. You're being honest, and I appreciate that. But I don't want her caught up in... whatever this is going to become."

"She's safer with us than anywhere else."

"I know." He looked up.

"That's why I came with you. But it doesn't stop being the wrong thing." It was a pointless debate, and they both knew it. The right thing was an abstract concept in the world they lived in. Survival and leverage were real.

"You made the decision you thought was right," she said.

"You can either live with it or let it break you. Which would you prefer?" She watched him choose in the moment of silence.

"I prefer to live," he said quietly.

"Then focus on the work. Let me handle the rest." He nodded. It looked like agreement, though it was more resignation. She left him to his notes. She found Dario on the roof. He was sitting on the ledge with his legs over the side, looking at the street. It was a habit he'd had since before she took control, something he did when he was thinking through a problem, though he wasn't supposed to do it anymore. She closed the door behind her and joined him at the edge.

"You're going to fall," she said.

"No, I'm not." He didn't look at her.

"This is my thinking spot."

"It's a safety violation."

"Everything's a safety violation right now." He glanced at her.

"You should come up here more often. The view's not bad." She looked out over the Quadrilatero. The streets were empty. The sky was still the same strange purple, though it had shifted slightly, darkening at the edges.

"I can see that from my window."

"But you can't see me from your window." He grinned at her, then looked back at the street. If Bianca had heard that comment, she would have found a way to be offended on Cecilia's behalf. Cecilia had never quite figured out whether Dario flirted with her because he meant it, because it was habit, or because he found it amusing to see how she responded. She suspected it was mostly the last one.

"You're thinking about something," she said.

"I'm thinking about a lot of things." He tapped his fingers on the ledge.

"Mostly, I'm thinking about how much fun this is going to be."

"Fun?" He nodded.

"People are going to panic. They're going to make mistakes. They're going to try to go back to how things were. And we're going to be the ones who figure out how it works first." He looked at her.

"That's the kind of game I like." She considered him.

"You're not afraid." He shrugged.

"Maybe. But I'm more excited. Aren't you?" She thought about it. About the choices ahead of them, the territory, the System with its rules waiting to be understood. The city spread below her, a board they were already learning to navigate.

"I suppose," she said. She looked up.

"But it's not about the excitement, for me."

"It never is for you. What is it about, Cece?" She didn't look away from the sky.

"Winning. The only difference between now and before is how much there is to win. Before, it was about money. Control. Influence. Now, it's everything."

"Everything." He said it softly, the way she had.

"And what will you do with it when you have it?" She smiled slightly.

"I'm sure I'll think of something." He laughed, low and short.

"Of course you will. That's why you're in charge." For a while, neither of them spoke. The street stayed empty. The sky stayed strange. Then Cecilia pushed off the ledge and turned toward the door.

"Come inside. If you want your thinking spot so badly, bring it downstairs. Matteo will get anxious if he comes up and finds you dangling off the roof." Dario swung his legs back over.

"He won't say anything."

"No," she agreed.

"He'll just assume you've stopped valuing your life. It's irritating." She held the door for him. He passed through with a slight nod.

"Whatever gets me through the day." She went to her office, but not to work. She needed a few minutes of her own space. The space that belonged to her before all of this had started, when she was still learning how to hold a position of authority that hadn't been planned to be hers. The portrait was above the desk. It wasn't a good likeness, but she hadn't chosen it for accuracy. She looked up at her father's face. He would have enjoyed the challenge the System had brought.

He would have been in the room with her people, figuring out how to bend it to his will. She couldn't imagine him ever hiding behind a door in a boarded-up apartment. It had been five years. Sometimes she still felt like she was wearing his skin, just waiting for someone to notice the fit was imperfect. Other times, she forgot the comparison entirely. Mostly, she wished she had his certainty. The absolute confidence that he had always belonged in this role. She let the thought pass. Self-doubt was indulgence.

She'd done the work. The organization was stable, efficient, profitable. If the world had just stayed as it was, she would have continued to prove her right to the position she'd inherited. Now the world had changed, and the job had changed with it. She sat behind the desk and looked up at her father's face in the painting.

"Watch me," she said. Her phone alarm chimed. The seventy-two hour limit was about to run out. Class selection was closing. She opened the window and waited. The message came exactly on schedule, written in the same cold light across the sky that had carried the first. SYSTEM: PUBLIC BROADCAST CLASS REGISTRATION PERIOD: CLOSED. ALL UNREGISTERED ENTITIES HAVE BEEN CATEGORIZED. PARAMETERS UPDATED. TIER 1 CLASSES ACTIVE.

GLOBAL SCENARIO: INITIATED DESIGNATION: NIGHT OF FIRST MEASURE DURATION: 8 HOURS OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE. SECONDARY CONDITIONS: UNDISCLOSED. REWARDS: EXPERIENCE, RESOURCES, REPUTATION. The city belongs to whoever holds it at dawn.