Time flowed strangely after the mental evaluation. Parker couldn't tell if their thoughts were still affected by the hallucination machine or if they were just reeling in trauma. It quickly turned into a blur that Parker couldn't control.

  To sit and exist with what had just happened was too much. To fix their mind to a task was too hard and caused a type of mental strain they couldn't handle. Instead of going back to their room, Parker ended up in the swirling noise of the cafeteria.

  One more mediocre salad in front of them and a cacophony of shaken Gamblers around. It seemed like Parker was not the only one shaken by the recent evaluation. However, as they listened in to the tales of the others, Parker began to piece together what was supposed to happen.

  Their experience had been unpredictable and mostly unique. Two nearby Gamblers were arguing over their experiences. The first looked like an off-duty cop. He led with fiery tones. He said, "It was horrible! All my gear was gone! I was face-to-face with an ogre!"

  The other Gambler was a woman dressed like an 80's combat medic; she was nodded casually in the spittling fire of the other Gambler's story.

  The off-duty cop continued. "It grabbed me by the face. We wrestled and it nearly tore my arm from its socket as I tried to get away!"

  Now the 80's combat medic soothed the conversation with a sarcastic hum. She then spoke with a cool indifference. "You had it so rough. I was bleeding to death at the bottom of an amber mine... but please, continue about how a brute like yourself couldn't handle a single ogre."

  The off-duty cop scoffed at that and tried to backpedal to save face. "It wasn't just the ogre! It was everything! It all felt wrong. I don't know how they did it, but my body didn't want to react right!"

  The 80's combat medic just chuckled at that. A new stir of rage swelled up in the off-duty cop. Before either of them could escalate things further, a voice with a familiar drawl cut them off. "Come now, friends. In your shoes, I would focus more on passing the next evaluation after that spectacular failure instead of cutting at each other's rope."

  In no kind words, both Gamblers told the gunslinger to leave, and he did. He walked right over to the seat across from Parker. With a comforting whistle, he sat down and then smiled at Parker.

  He said, "Some folks are talking about ghosts and ghouls, but if you ask me... you're the only one with the look of having truly seen them. I take it you failed like the rest of us?"

  Parker shook their head. There was more to it than that but in the end, Parker had passed the evaluation. That brought a solemn nod from the gunslinger. "Couldn't have a complete failing class, I guess."

  This time, Parker found some words and the ability to add to the conversation. It was what they missed last time. They said, "I'm Parker, can I ask your name?"

  "Devon," the gunslinger answered. "It's nice to meet you officially, Parker. So… do you think you'll pass the final evaluation? You were looking frantic yesterday and now you're looking fairly shattered. My friends didn't seem too hopeful after running into your little swap shop."

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Parker took a second to respond. Devon took that as an answer in and of itself. The gunslinger hooked his thumbs into his holsters and let out a slower whistle. After that, he said, "I don't think anyone actually knows what it takes to win, let alone pass. We're all risking everything against a Gamble no one has completed. No matter how you pass their tests, if you pass, you deserve to be here."

  "What do you think?" The question left Parker's lips before they even properly thought it.

  Devon smiled as he stood up. It seemed like he wouldn't answer for a second, but just before leaving he did. Devon said, "I think I'll get a lot of use out of that crucible. See you on the islands."

  Just like that, the gunslinger left. Parker felt a little better.

  There was still the overwhelming nausea of anxiety, but it wasn't a fathomless well Parker was falling into anymore. It was unlikely that they would run into each other again, but Parker silently thanked their new friend. They still felt like they couldn't sit alone with their thoughts, but now they felt the capacity to work through a task return to their mind. Parker quickly finished their wilting salad and hurried back up to their room.

  The instructions for the material evaluation were to bring everything in their possession with them. That meant that Parker needed to take care of the pile of gear they wanted to recycle before tomorrow morning.

  It was a relatively simple process. Parker brought a bundle of clothes and items to a strange room that looked like a reverse dry cleaner. There was an attendant in a neon green smock waiting at the side of a conveyor belt with a floating rack overhead. There were bins for things that could not be hung and hangers for things that could.

  The attendant asked a simple question when Parker entered. They said, "Are you here to drop off or to process materials?"

  Parker hefted the bundle and said, "Just to drop off."

  The attendant gestured to the conveyor belt. "Go ahead and sort everything. Once you're ready, I'll run diagnostics and see what your totals are."

  It was a fairly simple process and after a few minutes, Parker had filled two bins with shoes, belts, and accessories. There were also almost two dozen garments hung up on the rack. It felt like so much more gear once it was deconstructed from the pack and the bundle. To see it all spread out reassured Parker that they needed to do this. That was the last thread on the emotional connection to the items.

  As it severed, the attendant asked, "Is that everything?"

  Parker nodded. The attendant disappeared through a door and after a few moments, the conveyor started up. All of Parker's things slipped around the curve and behind a break in the wall.

  While Parker was waiting, another Gambler came in with a bundle of gear. Instead of the conveyor, the Gambler went to a side door that Parker had not noticed. As it closed behind the newcomer, Parker read the sign: manual processing.

  A minute later, the attendant returned with a tablet in hand. They read off an itemized list of all the things that Parker had sent over the conveyor belt. To hear all the items read out loud was a little more overwhelming than Parker expected. Once the list was over, Parker was reeling from how many resources they had wasted in compiling all those useless objects.

  Then the attendant cleared their throat and read off the tablet again, "The following conditions cannot be modified. There is a twenty percent processing fee. You are not given the direct materials from the items that are being processed. If any issues are found with your items during processing, the total will be subtracted from your estimated returns. Do you accept these conditions?”

  Parker nodded. Then they realized the attendant had never looked up from the tablet. With an embarrassed tone, Parker added, “I accept.”

  The attendant tapped at the tablet. A whirr of light and energy came from somewhere just beyond Parker’s perception. The attendant continued after a few seconds, “After diagnostics and processing fee, your returns will be a bolt of five yards of canvas, a bolt of five yards of cloth, and a box of brass finishing. Remember that these numbers are subject to change if any issues are found in the materials. Does that work for you?"

  This time the attendant looked up for Parker’s response. Parker nodded.

  The attendant clicked on their tablet. "Thank you for using the service. Your materials will be delivered to your room by end of day tomorrow."