"Yeah... it's the end of the day," I think to myself, as I look at my pitiful pile of meat. The designation is somewhat arbitrary, but I'm deciding it is due to the fact that I'm incredibly exhausted, and am likely unable to raise my arms high enough to make a cut for a new slab of meat. Still, I can't help but feel disappointed at the days haul. My cart is maybe half full; my previous conservative expectation of being able to fill the cart two thirds of the way by the end of the day hadn't been met. Instead, while the cuts of meat had become cleaner and more regularly shaped, each one took longer and longer to do, leaving me with less than expected overall. This was partially because I had spent more time on trying to do the job right, instead of doing it quick, but also because I failed to account for the exhaustion that crept up on me.

As I tug my cart through the tunnel, the extra weight of the meat is helping it gain traction on the slippery surface, but conversely is also making it catch more frequently on the crooks and crannies of the heavily textured floor. "Yea, if this cart was actually entirely full, there's a good chance that I wouldn't be able to get the damn thing out of here." I'm not even entirely convinced that I'll be able to get the cart out as is; my arms and shoulders are screaming in pain from the extended shift I've been working, and each time the cart catches on a bump part of me just wants to leave it where it is. Still, I do my best to persevere, mostly by reminding myself over and over that the half full cart is rent for the night. I'm in the middle of my 34th repetition when the wheels suddenly gain freedom of movement on the linoleum-like floor outside the tunnel entrance, and the shift in texture is enough to make me stumble slightly as I try to reorient.

Looking around, I see a few workers leaving their tunnels at the same time as me; likely those from the same crowd I had entered with. "I guess just... ride the wave out like I rode it in," I think, closing the distance between me and the closest other worker. The two of us become four, then ten, before I quickly lose track; a small group of quiet, tired workers pulling carts through the echoing halls of the Unum. The conversation is much more sparse than before, and I find myself too tired to subtly eavesdrop. Instead, I just focus on putting one foot in front of the other as we retrace our steps towards the stairs from before. "If there's a higher being out there, for the love of all that was, is, and will be, do NOT make me tug this damn thing up three flights of stairs. I will actually just throw myself off the side of the building," I pray, as the terror in my gut grows. We continue approaching the stairs, and there's a moment where I genuinely consider just finding a corner in the hall to sleep in rather than return to the hotel, but the crowd continues right past the stairwell entrance without a second look.

Relief floods my veins, and before I can wonder how we're actually going to get our carts upstairs, we round the corner. "Oh hey, there's the laser lift," I think, as I stare at the blue beam shooting up towards the ceiling. There's a part of me that wants to be impressed at the powerful light, and another part that's curious on the what and the how, but all of it is superseded by the exhaustion I feel in every muscle. All I manage to drum up is a simple, "Neat," in my mind, before spending the last few drops of gas on trying to determine the operation of the lift. I watch as some of the workers attach little flags or bits of cloth to their carts, before hoping on the lift, while some of the workers bring their carts with them. As each person approaches the lift itself, they press their badge into what appears to be a curved plinth of sorts, and as they do, the lift glows brighter. Then they simply step into what appears to be open air, and effectively disappear, their forms shooting up so quickly it's hard to make out their silhouettes. "Oh fuck," I think, a spike of fear shooting through me. "I'm supposed to just step off the edge?"

Logically, I know there'd be nothing wrong; I was literally watching people do it in front of me, and unless the Unum had a personal vendetta, I didn't think the elevator was likely to just fail as I used it. Still, the premise is nerve racking, and my body is continuing to drag me forward despite my mind's protest. As I reach the lift, I mimic the motion of those before me, placing my badge on the indent near the edge of the platform. I'm briefly expecting to see some sort of screen or option to select my floor, but it merely glows for a moment, and activates the lift. Too tired to consider alternative options, I step up to the lift itself, and there's only a moments hesitation, momentum carrying me straight into what appears to be a multi story drop. Instead, my foot finds solid ground, or what feels like it, and so I turn my gaze to the cart, making sure it can make it's way over the lip of the platform and onto the lift.

With no fanfare whatsoever, I'm entirely surrounded by the light of the lift, and I stand there for a moment, wondering if there's some other action I'm supposed to take to actually get the elevator to move. Suddenly, without feeling any sense of motion at all, my ears are assaulted with the sounds of chatter and commerce. I can't help but stand there for a moment, utterly flabbergasted. "Wait, did I just teleport? I thought... it was.... lift? Lifting? ...what?" My fragmented thoughts have no opportunity to resolve into anything more consistent however, as I start to hear a small ding sound, reminiscent of an elevator door trying to close and failing to do so. I quickly tug on the cart, pulling it back up and over the lip of the identical platform on this side, once again standing on material ground. Instead of being surrounded by workers, I'm now surrounded by carts; some full and some not.

I peek into the hall, and there are people moving back and forth, confirming my suspicion of having arrived back at the main floor. However, none of the shops that I can see are immediately recognizable, leaving me feeling entirely lost. "I don't think this lift is literally the center of the tower like it is in the game. But I don't really know where it is compared to where I started... I'm probably gunna just need to pick a direction and go for it," I think, my eyes scanning the populated space. "Also... no one has carts. There's a whole bunch in this room, but I don't know if I'm supposed to leave mine. It was sort of insinuated by Heya that I'm supposed to physically bring it over to the restaurant, but... ugh. I'm too tired for this shit." I take another look at the room, and much like the previous floor, the few carts dotted around that contain meat have various little flags or bits of cloth to differentiate them. "Yea, I don't have any of those. Not that anyone is gonna confuse my handful of scraps for their cart," I think, grinning sardonically. Having made up my mind, I tug the cart fully out into the hall itself, and arbitrarily pick a direction, doing my best to avoid a 3mph collision with the heavy wooden vehicle.

As I navigate the crowd, people split in front of me, doing their best to give me a wide berth. "Did I fuck up?" wonders an anxious part of my mind, but I quickly shut it down. "They're just being nice. They're giving me space because no one wants to get hit by a cart. Also also... I probably smell disgusting." I keep my eyes peeled for the hotel or the restaurant, and I'm unable to see either; however, I do manage to spot the store where I had bought my saw, which suddenly reorients my mental map, merging it with the one from the days prior. My heading now confirmed, I spin around, facing towards the unnamed hotel and restaurant, my muscles aching and groaning at every new step. My mind drifts as I half sing under my breath, repeating the same phrase over and over. "I think I'll lose... my... mind... in hysterrriaaaa... buh daa baaaaa..."

Suddenly, I find myself stood still in front of the door to the restaurant itself, and I quickly have to pull my focus up front, as I stare at the door. Looking back at the cart, I manage to put two and two together, muttering under my breath in English, "yea, that won't fit." Steeling myself for the social interaction, I take a deep breathe and rub my face, doing my best to wake myself up a bit, before setting the cart down right outside, and heading in. "Hey there!" I exclaim, with an energy I don't feel. "I have meat!" The person manning the counter isn't the jovial chef from the day prior, but someone unknown, and he just quirks an eyebrow at my words. "We don't buy meat here," he says, looking me up and down. I just take the few steps needed to cross the intervening distance, pulling out my badge in the process. "I am supposed to bring it here. I had... have this thing. With Heya," I say, trying and failing to remember the exact language to describe the situation. The new guy still has a look of confusion, but he takes my badge anyways, placing it in an identical machine to the one that Heya had used the day before.

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There's a moment of silence, as his eyes scan up and down the floating holographic text, before a look of understanding crosses his face. "Ohhh, you're marked with us. You're the one that Heya was talking about. I was confused because you came through the front door. Did no one tell you where to bring the cart?" he asks. I just shake my head. "Ahh, first day then." "Damn, four times and a free space, that's gotta be bingo," I think, my face locked in a smile. "Yup, you got me. First day," I say. At my words, he turns to face the kitchen, his voice stretching out the words as he shouts, "CAN I GET A FIIIIIIRST DAY?" It's clearly meant to be a call and response, because the young voice from the day prior responds in the same manner, "YEUUUUPPPP!" The man turns back to face me, gesturing for me to follow, and I make my way around the counter into a hall on the right hand side of the room. A number of feet down the hall, there is a single wide metal door, not all that dissimilar to the door of a modern walk in freezer. Past the door, the hall continues, and at the end of the hall is a pair of double doors connecting to a hallway of the greater Unum itself, with a number of carts dotted about. "So, you can bring your cart back here, and then just let us know when you've done that; no need to worry about actually carrying the meat in," says the man.

I can feel my brain trying to connect the two locations; the main thoroughfare where my cart is currently located, and this 'back alley' location, but I just haven't spent enough time to feel comfortable guessing on how to actually get here. "I do not know how to get here," I say, feeling a bit sheepish at the confession. The man just taps his forehead and splays his hand, his expression one of faux exasperation. "Right, of course. Once you're out the front door, head towards the Great Doors, and on the left will be a pair of double doors. They're unmarked, but they're the only double doors, so you should be able to spot them. Once you're through, take another left as soon as you can, and head straight back. Should be simple," says the man, his hands mimicking the path I'd need to take. "The Great Doors have gotta be the big main doors that lead outside," I think, mentally tracing the path the man is describing. Once he finishes, I take a deep breath, making sure to replaster the smile on my face, and then head back down the hall and out the front door towards my cart.

Reaching my cart, I turn towards the Great Doors of the Unum, mentally running through the instructions provided, and it's only a few minutes until I find myself at the back of the restaurant, this time with cart in hand. I go to set the cart down gently, but my muscles were finished an hour ago, and the cart instead slips from my fingers, slamming down hard onto the bone-like floor, the echoing crack causing me to wince. I give the cart a quick once over, but don't notice any fracturing on the floor or the cart, and feeling satisfied that the vehicle won't fall apart as soon as I turn my back, I head inside the restaurant. The man is placing a doorstop under what I can now confirm is the door to a freezer, and he says, "Go ahead and hang out at a table, we'll have your meal out in just a second," his attention fully focused on the task in front of him. I just nod my head, and squeeze my way past him, half stumbling over to the same seat as the day prior. As I sit there, I get a brief impulse to pull my phone out. "Damn, I wish I had my music," I think, as I listen to the muffled sounds of the kitchen.

In what feels like both an hour and no time at all, a 20 something guy brings out some food. His hair is pitch black, and his darker skin sets him apart from the general appearance of the Ostron people. "Huh, transplant from somewhere else maybe? I wonder if he's Terran or straight up from Mars or something," I muse, but my focus is broken by the smell of the meal in front of me. "Enjoy!" says the guy, clearly the voice of the one who had been in the kitchen the last few days. I look down, and at first glance, it seems similar to the meal from yesterday, but as I look, I start to notice some differences. The stew has nearly twice as much meat in it; full to the brim. There's some sort of crumbly bread on the side, the texture not dissimilar to that of cornbread, and the drink is some sort of fruit concoction, rather than the standard mug of mowje. Too tired to ask any questions about what I'm putting in my mouth, I simply dig in with gusto, to the amusement of the chef.

"You're cute and all but I'm literally too hungry and too tired to give a fuck about not looking like a maniac," I think, shoveling food into my mouth as though I'm worried it's planning on growing a pair of legs and walking away. Too few minutes later, the meal is nearly finished, and the man who was initially up front makes a reappearance, wiping his hands on a threadbare rag tucked into his apron. He stops for a moment, looking at my nearly empty plate and bowl. "You uh... you tore through that," he says, looking up at me, half amused and half concerned. I just shrug, doing my best to savor the last few bites of food and drink. "I was hungry." At this, he just nods. "Well, anyways, I went through your haul. It's not bad for your first day; it'll cover yesterday's debt, today's rent, and today's meal, with 37 credits left over. If you want I can count out the handful of chits." I slump down in my chair at his words. "Oh..." I say, doing my best to sound less sad than I feel. "That is not a lot." He gives me a nod of sympathy, and I do my best to box up my feelings for the moment. "I doubt I'll find anywhere cheaper, and I'm only going to get better at this every day," I think, before responding out loud to the man. "I'll be staying here tonight. You can just hand it over to Heya for tomorrow's rent."

He nods, and heads through the side door, leaving me alone in the restaurant once again. I take the opportunity to finish up the last few bites of my food, before also making my way over, passing the man as I do so. I give him a wave and start making my way towards my room, and a thought springs into my mind as I walk down the warmly lit hall. "I never asked for his name. I should probably do that if I'm gunna keep running into him." I make my way up the stairs, and walk into the shared bathroom, stripping out of my blood soaked clothes. I take a moment to look at the clothes, as I stand there in the nude. "Fuck. I gotta... get better clothes. Or more clothes. Or find a laundromat or something. But not right now obvi, since I have zero money." I touch the capacitive sensor within the shower to start it up, the operation identical to the one within Salt of the Sea. After 10 minutes of scrubbing off the dried flakes of blood, I notice that I'm falling asleep on my feet, and so I quickly turn off the shower and step out into the bathroom, after a quick peek to make sure the space is clear.

I grab the incredibly convenient complimentary towel and dry off, before making my way into my room. I can feel half formed thoughts firing off in my mind like pop rocks, feeling more exhausted now than when I first started training with Ko-lee. "It'll be nice to see her again," I think, as I scramble under the covers and attempt to find a comfortable position. "Also, my haul was ehh... but I'll learn. I'll make more money. Today was rough because all I did was recover from debt, effectively. And, it was the worst performance I'll ever do. Tomorrow I only need to pay for tomorrows rent, and then I'll have a few creds for stuff. Stuff and things. Practice. Practice makes perfect. Practice makes... not perfect... better. Practice makes good...," I think, my mind spiraling on that final thought, and before I know it, I'm out like a light.