The town square of Briarton buzzed with morning energy. Vendors shouted over one another from stalls lined with bolts of dyed fabric, crates of fresh produce, and jars filled with shimmering powders. Smoke from nearby chimneys mixed with the scent of bread and burnt oil.

  Stone and timber buildings surrounded the square, with steep tiled roofs and crooked chimneys. Balconies hung with drying laundry leaned over cobbled streets. Children darted between legs and carts, laughter bouncing through the cool morning air. Most of the townsfolk wore long tunics or cloaks, and nearly all of them had some kind of emblem sewn into their clothes—stamped leather on sleeves, brass pins on cloaks, small threadwork patches near their collars.

  Lucy leaned closer to Steven as they followed John through the bustle. “Tell me this doesn’t feel exactly like that Renaissance fair we went to in high school.”

  Steven raised an eyebrow. “The one where you knocked over a rack of plastic swords and accidentally joined the falconry demonstration?”

  “It wasn’t an accident. I panicked and followed the bird guy.”

  Steven smirked. “Still think about that bird screaming on your shoulder.”

  “I was the bird queen for five whole minutes.”

  They both chuckled. The laughter settled something inside them, even as the world around them spun with unfamiliar rules.

  John led them toward the center of the square, where a large translucent crystal stood—roughly the height of a man and faceted like cut glass. It shimmered faintly, pulsing with soft, bluish light. Every few minutes, someone would approach it, press their hand to the surface, and pause as the glow deepened and flickered. Then they’d walk away reading the air in front of them, eyes scanning an invisible screen only they could see.

  John nodded toward it. “There she is. Briarton’s central Interface crystal.”

  “What’s everyone doing?” Lucy asked, watching a woman in a tanner’s apron tap the crystal and mutter to herself.

  “Checking updates,” John said. “Town notices, job boards, harvest forecasts, new laws from the capital. You can pull up just about anything if you know what you're doing. But for you two—” He gave them a quick smile. “—this is where you finally join the world.”

  Steven let out a slow breath. “Ladies first.”

  Lucy stepped forward. Her hands trembled slightly as she raised them to the crystal. The surface was cool and humming beneath her fingers. The pulse of the light synced with her heartbeat. And then—

  It flared.

  Not alarmingly, just bright enough that it clearly recognized her.

  Lucy gasped as her mind filled with an overwhelming sensation—a strange, weightless moment, like slipping between waking and dreaming. She staggered back, blinking rapidly.

  “You okay?” Steven asked, stepping forward.

  “I—yeah. I think so. It’s like... it’s just there now. I can see it.” Her eyes moved rapidly across invisible lines of data. “Name, age... stats…”

  John perked up. “Go on.”

  “All of them are at six… except Intelligence—it’s eight.” Her voice dropped into awe. “Class: Healer. Level one.”

  Steven let out a low whistle. “Not bad, sis.”

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  “There’s a skill, too. ‘Healing Touch.’ Costs a little mana.” She turned her hand over, like she could see something glowing in her palm. “And there are bars. Health, energy, mana. It’s so weird—it’s like I always knew how to read it, but now I can.”

  “Then it’s your turn,” John said, clapping Steven on the back. “Let’s see what the Interface thinks of you.”

  Steven raised his hands in mock reverence. “Oh great crystal, please don’t make me a Chicken Keeper.”

  He touched it.

  No flare. No strange light show.

  Just a single pulse of blue.

  Steven blinked as the Interface slid into place behind his eyes, like a door opening in his head.

  “Oh,” he said. “Okay. I see it.”

  “What did you get?” Lucy asked.

  Steven tilted his head. “Stats are all five, except Strength and Dexterity. Both at seven. Class: Fighter. Level one. And… skill: Vampiric Strike.”

  John furrowed his brow. “Huh. Haven’t heard of that one.”

  “I guess it’s supposed to deal damage and heal a little if it hits?”

  John nodded slowly. “Sounds about right for a Fighter. There are a lot of skill variants—too many for anyone to memorize.”

  Lucy was still scanning her Interface, lips moving silently as she read. Steven had a similar look—half focused, half dazed.

  John raised an eyebrow and waved a hand in front of Steven’s face. “Hey.”

  Nothing.

  He grabbed both their shoulders and gave them a firm shake.

  Steven blinked. “Oh. Sorry. That was… a lot.”

  John grinned. “Takes some getting used to. Come on. Let’s celebrate. I know a place that serves decent food and better drinks. My treat.”

  They walked toward a timber-framed tavern with open shutters and a warm smell of baked bread. As they sat, John reached into thin air beside his hip and pulled out a small stack of bronze coins from what looked like nowhere.

  Steven blinked. “Okay, where did those come from?”

  “Everyone gets a small inventory once they sync,” John said. “Yours should be active now, too. It’s invisible to everyone else unless you open it. Great for carrying essentials. Can’t be stolen, either—not without a high-level thief class and some luck.”

  “Is it unlimited?” Lucy asked.

  John laughed. “Hardly. Three slots to start. Sometimes it expands when you level—random chance. Or you can use one of your stat points to expand it manually. Most folks don’t waste points on it, but some do. Especially porters. They make good coin hauling gear for guild expeditions.”

  Steven gave a thoughtful nod. “So it’s like fantasy pizza delivery meets locker storage.”

  John blinked. “I don’t know what any of that means.”

  They sat down at a table inside the tavern. John ordered for them and leaned in again, eyes glinting.

  “Your stats are impressive, especially for unsynced adults. The Interface didn’t hold anything back. Since you get one stat point per level, you’re both starting with a bit of a leg up—but nothing unheard of.”

  “You think we’ll be okay?” Lucy asked.

  John nodded. “With those numbers? And those classes? Absolutely. You’ll have a place in the guilds for sure. But you’ll probably need to split up for a while.”

  “Why?” Steven asked.

  “Different guilds. Different training methods. The Healer’s Guild won’t teach swordwork, and the Fighter’s Guild doesn’t deal with magic much. You’ll need to focus on your own path. That’s how you grow.”

  He leaned back. “So, what skills did the Interface give you again?”

  “Healing Touch,” Lucy said.

  John whistled. “You hit the jackpot. That’s one of the best first-tier healing skills you can get. Stable, efficient, and you’ll be in demand from the moment you show it to the guild. They’ll take you in fast. Nobody can quite predict what your first skill might be.”

  Steven raised a hand. “I got Vampiric Strike.”

  John tilted his head. “Never seen that one, but that’s not unusual. Fighter trees branch in every direction. Could be a lifesteal build. Could be blood-based. You’ll find out when you train it.”

  “So… what now?” Lucy asked.

  “Now?” John said, rising from his seat. “We introduce you to the guilds.”

  He tossed the bronze coins on the table and waved for them to follow.

  “The Healer’s Guild is two streets east of the square. The Fighter’s Guild sits near the west gate. Both are used to onboarding new initiates. They’ll give you work, training, maybe even lodging if you sign on officially.”

  Steven glanced at Lucy. She looked calm. Steady. Determined.

  It was the first time she looked like she belonged here.

  He wondered if he looked the same.