Mark stretched sleepily as he observed the small buffet of breakfast foods in front of him.

He wondered for a moment if the giant spread was simply another test, wondering what his normal diet consisted of. Right in front of him there were eggs, something he recognized as a type of cereal, and even small pastries, which was all only a small section of the full buffet.

It also contained more than just breakfast foods. An entire ham sat in a small heated tray on the counter. There were plates of various raw vegetables and uncooked grains.

He noticed that many of the pitchers of various drinks were unlabeled, leaving him to have to assume what each one was. Some he recognized easily: milk from an unknown animal and that orange-colored juice Zirrilit had almost drowned him with, but the rest were just strange colors in glass containers.

Mark made his choices, piling them onto a plate and made to sit next to Zirrilit.

He didn’t think he had ever been so close to so many different types of aliens at once. He could turn his head and look down the room at a group of elves eating small pastries, a group of weird blue people eating plates of salad, or any other thing.

There were too many different types of humanoid to actually memorize each one, at least not without some sort of blessing to give you memorization abilities. Even Zirrilit was categorized as a ‘beam: light based dragonoid’ because there were so many species created in the image of dragons.

Though he hadn’t seen any other than Zirrilit at this point, only smaller lizard people, and vaguely wondered why.

Surely, Zirrilit was highly effective at all of her given tasks. If she had held a patient down at the hospital it would be more like a hydraulic press weighing you down than an orc. Like heavy machinery compared to a weightlifter.

And when those assassins had attacked, she had almost taken them down herself until she hesitated against that gnome.

“Hey Zirrilit, have you thought about what kind of job you would get here?” Mark asked. “Like, at some point we are probably going to have to start working. What are you going to do?”

She thought for a moment before nodding, “I would probably go back to hunting, like I used to.”

“You were a hunter?” Mark asked. “What kind of game?”

“Hunting Isn't a game Mark, wyverns are really dangerous.” She explained. “You know how you have angels, or the hospital had all of those green elemental healer guys. My people got made by dragons and they make wyverns instead of angels, and wyverns try to hunt us but we eat them first.”

Mark listened to her rambling explanation.

“Jeez, that sounds rough.” he admitted, “but I don’t know if wyverns spawn around here.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll find something to kill and eat.” She assured him. “And anyway, this place doesn’t seem to have food shortages, so it's not like people who can’t work are going to have to go live under bridges and beg for food or anything.”

“Uh, Zirrilit-”

“Oh wait! It’s almost time, aren’t we supposed to meet up for the gate at ten clocks?” Zirrilit rose from her seat, before pausing and stuffing the other half of her breakfast ham into her mouth.

“Yeah but-”

“Do you want to take your breakfast cake with you? I think they have these little boxes.”

Mark looked down to his pastry with a light sugar glaze, before just picking it up.

“I’ll eat it on the way,” He decided, “do you remember where we are supposed to be meeting up?”

“Yup!” She nodded, “They said it was right in front of the library.”

Mark had no clue that they even had a library; he was now regretting not paying attention to the tour.

“Yeah, do you want to lead the way?” He asked.

She nodded again and set out with Mark in tow.

They left the building, and Mark was once again greeted with the outdoors. A slight cold nip in the air made the hair along his arms stand on end as the trees turned into a beautiful multi-colored tapestry before their leaves fell to the earth.

He ignored it this time and focused on following Zirrilit so that he wouldn’t get lost. The diplomat’s facilities were spread along an enormous campus.

Eventually, he saw a gathering of people and recognized a few faces. The rabbit person in a suit clashed with the shorter and broader purple lizard guy, making both stand out to Mark from the crowd of other more standard looking humanoids.

He wondered vaguely if the bright color signified some sort of toxicity, but kept the thoughts to himself as he approached the large group.

While he questioned the physical appearance of his escorts, Zirrilit voiced a similar question.

“How come you are all wearing those matching uniforms?”

Mark turned and realized that they were all in matching black coats with contrasting white undershirts. It was of a similar make to modern formalwear, though there was no tie and the opening near the neck exposing the undershirt was much less exaggerated than a normal tuxedo.

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

It was an actual, functioning button-up jacket over white clothing, and it seemed much less stiff and annoying to wear.

Mark glanced down at his simple clothing: a white shirt and a pair of pale gray sweatpants.

He had been issued these at the hospital, and he hadn’t really needed anything else until now. But it left him feeling slightly underdressed when everyone else was in an obvious uniform.

And cold. Mark also felt cold because he had no jacket.

As if sensing his thoughts, the major turned to him, “There is a clothing store down the block. We can visit that first if you want. Though, I wonder if our other friend will be joining us?”

“When I asked if she wanted to go, Niko said-” to fuck off- “-no.” Mark explained. “Core is staying with her for now to function as a set of hands.”

The major spoke briskly, “I see. Well then, I guess we should be off. I would hate to see you freeze your tail off, human- err. I mean… I suppose you may freeze something off.”

“We actually have the same metaphor back on Earth, even though we don’t have tails.”

The major paused to stare at the human for a moment, wondering if that was an outright lie which he couldn’t detect before changing the subject.

“Well. I shall let our escorts lead the way.” The lizard decided. “And then we may head to the tailoring shop posthaste. But before we go, I need to give you some new equipment. Now that we have translated your language, we are issuing you a translator, and you also require a means of self defense.”

The major handed Mark a small earpiece alongside a revolver.

The casualness in which he was handed a firearm threw Mark off guard for a moment.

“It’s a duelist’s weapon” the major explained. “Most soldiers will use a magazine with a random assortment of rounds, but the revolver will allow you to pick your loadout in the moment. Most leader types will use them, as it complements their planning and foresight abilities.”

Mark took the gun for a moment, looking over the stark white handle and the shined chrome barrel.

The major then handed him a proper harness to keep it attached to his chest and a small box of shells that Mark pocketed.

“After you get your clothes, you should keep it beneath a jacket to catch people off guard. If they think you are armed, they may attempt to take you out first.”

“Who is ‘they’?” Mark asked, “Are there people after us? Should we be going out if-”

“There are no groups out for you that we currently know of, it was all theoretical.” They corrected, “In practice or a military setting, it is simply the safest for you if you are not obviously armed, then if necessary you can use the weapon or keep it hidden as needed.”

Mark nodded, then the group of suited men and women began walking out. The major waited for them to gain a slight distance before he began to follow.

The human stared at the crowd he was following, easily identifying the elves but seeing a wider variety of species even here.

One of the people was bright yellow, though even he wasn’t as tall as an orc. In fact, everyone present seemed to be close to human sized.

A stark contrast to the hospital, where everyone was either large and physically intimidating or much smaller than him.

They walked on wide concrete paths through the grass, passing brick buildings until they finally met the metal fence that separated the outside world from the interior of the embassy. Other than the obvious barbed wire and armed guards at the entrance, the defenses seemed rather lackluster.

It seemed almost human, in a world where he had seen Zirrilit rip through concrete.

“The hospital seemed to be prepared for attacks.” Mark commented, “Is the fence enchanted or something? Are there more things that I am not seeing?”

“Well,” The major trailed off. “While there are definitely more hidden assurances than the mere wall, the facility is full of what might be referred to as k-selective species.”

Mark nodded even though he didn’t understand what that meant.

“So, obviously,” The major continued, “A single elf that can naturally live for up to eight hundred years before suffering from age related illnesses is considered a much larger threat than the average orc, who can live a little over a hundred. While most of the people here would shun violence, that is only because their reproduction rates cannot catch up to constant wars. Not because said people are not extremely dangerous when necessary.”

“Ah.” Mark immediately associated it in his head with special forces, or elite units from the video games he used to play.

“Also, well. I can’t say that most of the defenses others use are exactly optimal. You have seen the giant concrete buildings and metal vaults that the hospital forces usually deploy.” The major reminisced. “Can Zirrilit not just… Ignore them when she decides? A larger and more maneuverable area makes more sense than a packed hallway… Unless I suppose you are an angry deathworlder or an orc horde looking to funnel another horde of enemies down a straight hallway.”

The human paused at something familiar, a crosswalk. Though the asphalt they paved the streets with was a bright gray, and the lines designating a walkable area were deep red rather than white.

The major even hit a small button attached to a pole sticking out of the ground so that they could wait for a small light to signal them of a safe crossing.

He wondered why their worlds were so similar, was it that this was a naturally intelligent design?

Or had earth copied their works somehow? Was Mark the only human to ever be abducted or had there been others who returned home?

“The tailor shop should be up ahead,” the major tore Mark from his thoughts, and the human took a moment to look around before the smell hit him.

Across the street a sewer grate had been torn out of the ground, and a translucent red barrier resembling the magical shields he had seen blocked the path into the construction zone along with most of the sidewalk.

Then Mark saw his first dragonoid other than Zirrilit, another gigantic reptilian creature with a natural roughness that contrasted the smooth, sleek appearance of the smaller lizardmen.

They were green, with small blue tinged gills just below their jaw on either side of their head. Small spines ran down the back of their head, leading down their back.

The deathworlder hoisted themselves out of the hole gouged into the side of the street, reeking of waste and rotting eggs, and despite the smell Mark was immediately interested.

He walked up to the barrier and watched the dragonoid work, they turned to help pull someone else out of the hole and now there were two deathworlders.

A dragonoid and some form of minotaur, with clipped horns and a ragged mane.

Mark thought of a question, “Excuse me-”

“If you are here to complain about the noise or the smell you can fuck right off.” They snapped with an irritated hiss. “We’re scheduled for work until next week, you can call the city if you want to complain-”

“No, I was just wondering what you are doing.” Mark clarified. “I haven’t really gotten a chance to meet with other dragonoids before. Why are you in the sewers?”

The dragonoid blinked for a moment, taking in the human, before looking over the human’s shoulder at the dozen or so escorts following him around.

“Something in the sewer broke, now the street’s having a smell issue so we're trying to figure out what the problem is.” He stated, though his annoyed tone remained.

“Are you some kind of engineer?” Mark asked.

They snorted, “I’m with a hazardous material response unit.” They turned and gestured to the logo on the back of their dark blue jumpsuit that Mark couldn’t read. “See, I’m an acid type, so I’m not going to get sick easily from all of this stuff, and I can easily remove organic matter from these tunnels while keeping the concrete mostly intact.”

“I see,” The human noted, “do you always clean sewers?”

“Nah, usually I’m not called in for simple tasks. The last one I got was an alchemist’s shop that caught fire and exploded. They coated all the walls with this chemical and we had to break the building apart and haul it off to a waste dump.” They clarified. “Most people can get sick with enough exposure, even when in protective gear.”

Mark nodded, that made sense.

“So then why are you working on this sewer, is there a gas leak or something?”

“Well, some kind of gas is leaking or it wouldn’t smell so bad.” The green dragonoid observed as his minotaur partner started lowering a crate down the sewer hole, “But no, this is just on-the-job experience for our younger trainees. The city wanted an experienced crew after the last guys ran off.”

“Mark, if you would, I think that maybe we should let them continue working. Stopping public services in the middle of important work is somewhat frowned upon.” The major said diplomatically.

Though, Mark could see some of the guards wrinkling their noses. The rabbit person in particular seemed to be especially offended by the smell as they wiped their nose on their sleeve.

“Yeah, I guess we should move on.” Mark agreed, suddenly remembering the chill as a gust of wind brought him to shivering. “You said there was a clothing shop nearby?”

“Right across the street Mark, if you would-”

“You want to talk to them, Zirrilit? You seem awfully quiet.” Mark asked.

“Why would I want to talk to them?” Zirrilit questioned.

“Because… You are both dragonoids?” Mark offered, “It might be nice to learn about other people like you who live here.”

“We’re not the same species just because we're both dragonoids, Mark. Humans and orcs are both humanoids right? Look, that guy’s got gills, there’s no way we would do the same jobs.”

“Ah.” Mark muttered.

When he thought about it, orcs were just green humans… Who were seven feet tall. That didn’t mean orcs and humans were interchangeable in what tasks they could perform.

Had I just been racist?