Zach leaned against a brick wall, watching people pass by on the street. He wouldn’t even be surprised if Geroi never gave him a residence document. Without papers, he’d be stuck, working for the lab indefinitely. Freedom would be impossible, and the thought made his stomach turn.
This wasn’t what he wanted. Sure, he’d expected problems when he decided to stay, but the whole point was to build a life here so he could figure out how or why he had ended up in this world. If he couldn’t live freely, what was the point of staying? Money didn’t matter if he was no better than a prisoner. What he needed most was freedom, and that seemed further away with every step he took.
He sighed and glanced back at the distant outline of the lab. The materials inside were incredible, things he’d never seen before. He already missed the chance to work with them. They might exist elsewhere in the world, but getting them would probably be a nightmare. Leaving the city might seem like an option, but Geroi wouldn’t just let him walk away. The man had made it clear how desperate things were because of the war. Morals and ethics didn’t seem to matter here.
The idea of escape lingered in his mind, but he didn’t see an easy way out. Then he remembered something: the enlistment posters he had seen on the way to the lab. They advertised becoming a knight, or something called an Iron Breaker. If nations here were anything like back home, they would take anyone as a soldier. Sometimes even prisoners.
Zach thought about it more carefully. He had held his own against the bandits—trained fighters from this world. They were strong, but so was he. He wasn’t a fighter, but he had still beaten them. If he showed the military what he was capable of physically, they’d probably take him without asking too many questions. That would give him a way out of Geroi’s grasp.
He considered other options too. He could show off his knowledge of chemical mixtures to make himself valuable. The thought of revealing his powers crossed his mind, but he hesitated. It was better to keep those abilities to himself for now. The bandits hadn’t reacted strangely when he used them, so maybe powers like his weren’t uncommon. Or maybe they thought he was using some kind of gadget or trick. Either way, it was risky to expose too much too soon.
With that settled in his mind, Zach decided to walk around. Geroi had told him not to wander the lab, but he hadn’t said anything about the rest of the city. If Geroi had a problem with it, he could deal with it later. Zach needed answers, and he wasn’t going to find them standing still.
As he walked, he noticed the floating lamps lining the streets. They hovered a few feet above the ground, swaying gently in the breeze. He wondered if they were lightweight or if there was something else keeping them in place. The idea of studying them intrigued him, but he forced himself to stay focused.
Eventually, he came across an old man sitting on a stoop. The man seemed approachable, so Zach decided to ask him for directions.
“Excuse me,” Zach said. “Do you know where I can go to enlist as a knight?”
The old man squinted at him, then looked him up and down. “A knight?” he repeated. “What do you mean by that?”
Zach frowned. “I saw some posters. Military recruitment. I want to sign up.”
The man chuckled dryly. “You’re confused. Knights and soldiers aren’t the same. But if you want to enlist, you can go to any government building. With the way things are right now, they’ll be happy to have you.”
“Happy to have me?” Zach asked. “I thought there might be a draft.”
“Not since the Great War,” the man said, his voice steady. “After that, Asha—the city’s first governor—made a promise. No one would ever be forced to fight again. Even if there’s war, those who don’t want to fight can stay out of it. It’s part of our laws.”
Zach raised an eyebrow. That didn’t add up. Everything he had seen so far pointed to preparations for war. He couldn’t imagine a place like this not drafting people if things got bad enough.
“Why would Asha promise that?” he asked. “There’s always war. Countries fight over resources, land, whatever. It never stops.”
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The old man sighed, leaning forward on his knees. “Because at the time, there was no one left to fight. The Great War ended all of that. Whatever enemy nations existed before, they’re gone. The survivors were knocked back to the Stone Age. No one has the strength to start another real war. That’s why Asha could make that promise.”
Zach stared at him, trying to process the information. “If there’s no one left to fight, then what’s all this preparation for? Why the posters, the recruitment?”
"It’s not about other nations. It’s about the sister cities.” He stood up, brushing off his clothes. “That’s enough talk. I’ve got things to do.”
Zach wanted to talk more, but he had taken enough of his time.
Sister cities. It made sense how they worked and talked now, why almost everything was city-centered.
----------------------------------------
Zach walked along the uneven stone streets, scanning the buildings around him for anything that resembled a government office. His shoulders ached from tension, but he forced himself to stay focused. The streets were alive with activity—vendors shouting, children laughing, and the occasional whirr of some contraption he couldn’t identify. It was a strange mix of old-world charm and unfamiliar technology.
After a short while, he spotted a faded military recruitment ad plastered on the wall of a small building. The building itself didn’t look like much—plain stone walls and a faded wooden sign swinging in the breeze that read "Mailing Office." The military ad, however, was hard to miss.
It depicted a towering figure in light brown and white armor, holding a gleaming sword, with bold text beneath: “Join the Frontlines! Protect Your City!”
I think the Knight and Ironbreaker one is cooler.
His eyes darted over the ad one last time before he pushed open the heavy wooden door. Inside, the room smelled of paper and stale air. Stacks of letters and parcels were piled in every corner. A single desk sat at the center, where a man in the same light brown and white armor as the poster was slumped over, head resting on his folded arms.
“Excuse me,” Zach said, his voice cutting through the quiet room.
The man jerked awake, sitting up with a start. His helmet clattered onto the desk as he rubbed his eyes. He didn’t seem particularly old—maybe in his late thirties—but his unshaven face and dark circles made him look older. His armor clinked as he straightened up.
“Yeah? What is it?” the man asked, blinking as if shaking off sleep.
“Are you a military recruiter?” Zach asked, gesturing toward the ad outside.
The man nodded, still shaking off grogginess. “Yeah, I’m a recruiter. What’s this about? You looking to join?”
“Yes,” Zach said, stepping closer. “I’m new here, and I was wondering—if I joined, would I be able to get residence papers?”
The man’s expression shifted, becoming more alert. He grabbed a leather-bound notebook from the desk and flipped it open. “You’d get your papers,” he said, “but you’ll have to serve for at least a year first. As soon as you enlist and get your badge, though, you’ll have most of the same rights as a regular cityzen. No one’s going to hassle you for not having papers after that.”
Zach nodded. It was better than he’d expected. “All right. What do I need to do?”
The man pulled a quill from a small ink pot on the desk. Zach stared for a moment, surprised. He guessed holographic tablets must be too expensive for places like this.
“What’s your name?” the man asked, his tone businesslike now.
“Zach James,” Zach answered.
“Age?”
“Twenty,” Zach said.
“Family or next of kin to notify if you die in action?” the man asked, not looking up.
Zach hesitated. “None. I don’t have any family.” He felt the lie burn on his tongue, but what else could he say? Explaining his situation would raise too many questions.
The man paused for a moment, his pen hovering over the page. “None? No family at all?”
“I... had an accident. Amnesia,” Zach said. “I don’t remember anything.”
The man glanced at him, narrowing his eyes slightly, but didn’t press further. He wrote something in the notebook, then asked, “Do you have a job or did you have one here?”
“Yes,” Zach said. “Apprentice chemist at the lab called ‘Glory.’”
The man’s hand froze mid-note. His head tilted slightly as he looked at Zach, clearly surprised. “Glory? You worked there?”
“For a day,” Zach said simply.
“Why’d you leave?” the man asked, suspicion creeping into his voice. “Not many people walk away from a job like that.”
“I figured with my strange background, someone might start thinking I was some kind of spy or something. I want to keep my head on my neck for as long as possible.”
The man studied him for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Makes sense, I guess,” he muttered. “The lab types are always paranoid about outsiders.”
Zach let out a quiet breath of relief as the man went back to writing. After a few more questions—basic details about his skills and background—the man closed the notebook and set the pen down.
“All right,” he said. “You’re set to go. You need to head over to Fort Redstone on the east side of the city. That’s where new recruits report. You’ll get your training, your papers, and a place to stay while you serve.”
Zach gave a short nod. “Fort Redstone. Got it.”
The man leaned back in his chair, yawning as he stretched. “Look, kid, it’s not an easy life. But if you’re serious about joining, they’ll take care of you. Just make sure you’re ready for what’s ahead.”