I followed the waypoint, weaving through cobblestone streets lined with carts, vendors, and curious stares. A few kids pointed at me and whispered, probably at the outfit, maybe at the faint mechanical whir in my joints when I moved. Whatever. I had a destination.
The guild building came into view at the end of the street—a sturdy, two-story structure of dark timber and pale stone, its sign swinging gently in the breeze. The engraved sword-and-shield emblem above the door looked like it had been polished just this morning.
The moment I pushed the heavy wooden doors open, a wave of sound and smell hit me like a freight train.
Clinking mugs. Laughter. Boots thudding on wooden floors. The faint, tangy scent of oil and leather mixed with the richer aroma of roasting meat. My HUD tagged every person in sight—warriors in mismatched armor, robed mages hunched over maps, beastkin chatting at a table near the wall.
A large notice board dominated the left wall, plastered with job postings. My HUD cheerfully highlighted half a dozen "low-risk" quests in green and several "do-not-accept-unless-suicidal" ones in flashing red.
Behind the counter stood a woman in her thirties, sharp-eyed but smiling, flipping through a ledger. The moment her gaze landed on me, her smile froze—just for a second—before returning.
"Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild," she said, voice polite but laced with curiosity. "Here to register?"
My grin widened. "Yeah. Thought I'd see what kind of work you've got for the new girl in town."
The clerk gestured for me to approach the counter, sliding a thick parchment form and a quill across to me.
"Name?" she asked.
"Jaxine Evans," I said, taking the quill. It felt weirdly heavy—probably enchanted—but I managed not to twirl it like a drumstick.
"Age?"
"Nineteen. Mentally twenty-one on weekends," I said, writing it down. Her eyebrow twitched but she kept going.
"Race?"
I paused. "...Complicated."
She gave me a long, patient look, the kind usually reserved for stubborn children and drunks. "Complicated isn't on the form."
"Well, I used to be human," I said, lowering my voice slightly, "and now I'm… upgraded. Kind of like a golem, but with better hair."
The quill hovered over the paper in her hand. "You're… what now?"
I tapped my temple, and a faint HUD glow flickered across my eyes. Her gaze sharpened. "Oh," she said softly, almost to herself, "mana-tech."
Before I could ask what that meant, she flipped the form over and began writing quickly. "You'll need a special classification. Don't take offense—it's not a bad thing. It just means we'll have to tag you as 'unregistered variant' until we figure out exactly what you are."
"Cool," I said. "Do I get a badge?"
She slid a small, polished bronze plate across the counter. My HUD instantly scanned it:
[Guild Identification Badge: Rank F]
Status: Registered Adventurer
Special Note: Pending classification
"Rank F?" I frowned.
"Everyone starts there," she said with a smirk. "Don't worry—you look like you'll move up fast."
Something in her tone told me she wasn't talking about my work ethic.
"Alright," the clerk said, slipping my new badge into a small leather pouch. "One more thing before you're officially set up—you'll need a mana signature test."
I blinked. "A what-now?"
"It measures your magical output, affinity, and potential. Standard procedure for new registrants." She motioned to a circular crystal device on a pedestal near the counter. It pulsed faintly, the light shifting between soft blues and greens. "Just place your hand on the focus stone and let it do its work. Shouldn't take more than a few seconds."
I eyed it warily. "And if I break it?"
She gave me a flat look. "Don't."
Stepping over, I placed my palm on the cool crystal surface. My HUD immediately flickered with data I didn't understand—mana flux readings, resonance patterns, something about "attunement levels." The crystal's glow brightened… then spiked into a blinding white flash.
Gasps rippled through the guild hall. I pulled my hand back on instinct, blinking away the spots in my vision.
The clerk stared at the crystal, then at me. "That's… not normal."
"Not normal good, or not normal bad?" I asked.
She hesitated. "The crystal registered two distinct energy sources—one arcane, one… artificial. I've never seen that before."
"Cool," I said, grinning. "Guess I'm special."
The crystal dimmed back to a faint glow, but the HUD data lingered in my vision:
Mana Affinity: Unknown Hybrid
Primary Source: Arcane
Secondary Source: Synthetic Core
Potential: HIGH
Warning: Output Unstable
The clerk slid my badge back to me a little slower this time. "You're cleared to take jobs… but I'd advise caution, Jaxine. Whatever you are, I suggest you keep it to yourself. Uniqueness attracts attention. Sometimes that attention isn't always good attention, you know?"
I just nodded. "Good to know. I keep that in mind."
The clerk set my badge on the counter and reached under it, pulling out a leather-bound ledger. She flipped through a few pages before stopping halfway. "Since you're new—and apparently an unknown variable—I'll start you with something easy. Relatively speaking."
She plucked a slip from the notice board and slid it toward me.
Quest: Pest Control
Location: East Farmlands
Details: Eliminate horned hare infestation threatening crop fields.
Reward: 8 silver
Difficulty: Low
Note: Avoid unnecessary property damage.
I stared at the paper, then back at her. "Seriously? Rabbits?"
Her lips twitched. "Horned rabbits. And the farmer who posted this made it clear these aren't normal livestock. They've injured three workers and eaten through an entire field of produce in two days."
My HUD popped up a mini-window:
[Horned Hare – Mana Creature]
Threat Level: Moderate
Special Note: Capable of ranged mana discharge
A slow grin spread across my face. "So… murder unibunnies. Got it."
The clerk sighed. "Just… bring back proof of completion. And try not to antagonize them for fun."
"No promises," I said, tucking the quest slip into my pocket.
I was about to head for the door when the guild doors banged open behind me, letting in the smell of cheap ale and bad decisions.
Three men stumbled inside, laughing far too loudly for mid-afternoon. Their armor was dented, their clothes stained, and the leader—a tall, broad-shouldered brute with a patchy beard—had that glassy-eyed look of someone who was about three mugs past his limit.
"Hey there, sweetheart," he slurred the moment his gaze landed on me. "Don't think I've seen you around before."
I didn't bother answering, just flicked my HUD to "ignore" mode so it wouldn't start tagging them as threats… yet. I slipped my badge into my pocket and started walking toward the door.
"Aw, don't be shy," the second one said, swaying closer. "We're just bein' friendly."
"Yeah," the third chimed in, "friendly."
I kept moving.
The leader's grin twisted. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you." He stepped in front of me, the stench of ale hitting me full force, and his hand landed on my hip like he owned it.
Every system in my body lit up red.
My HUD flashed:
[Warning: Unwanted Physical Contact Detected]
Threat Level: Low-Moderate – Recommend Disengage or Neutralize
I glanced at his hand, then back up at him. "You've got about two seconds to move that before I remove it for you."
He laughed, tightening his grip. "Oh, I like you. You've got some fight—"
The clerk's voice cut in, sharp and cold. "Torren. Step away. Now."
But Torren just smirked, clearly thinking I wouldn't follow through.
Big mistake.
I sighed. "Alright. Two seconds are up."
Before Torren could blink, my hand shot up, clamping around his wrist. The servo motors in my arm hummed as I applied just enough pressure for him to feel the difference between "human strength" and "cyborg strength."
His smirk faltered. "Hey—"
With a twist, I spun his arm behind his back, forcing him to bend forward until his knees buckled. The guild hall went quiet, all eyes suddenly on us.
"I said," I murmured in his ear, "don't touch me."
Torren grunted, trying to wrench free, but my grip didn't so much as budge. My HUD helpfully displayed:
Grip Pressure: 42% – Non-lethal hold
Structural Stress: Minor fracture risk in 3.4 seconds
I loosened my hold just enough for him to suck in a breath, then released him. He stumbled back, clutching his wrist, face red from more than just alcohol.
"You crazy—"
The look I gave him made him stop mid-sentence. I didn't need to say anything; the whir of my internal systems and the faint, metallic gleam of my eyes under the HUD glow said enough.
His two friends stepped in, clearly ready to play the "outnumber her" game—until the clerk cleared her throat again.
"Torren. Out. Now. All three of you."
The three exchanged glances, muttered something under their breath, and shuffled toward the door. Torren shot me one last glare before leaving, but I just smiled sweetly.
As the door shut behind them, the clerk shook her head. "Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild. You're gonna fit right in."
The low hum of conversation returned—only now it was sharper, aimed in my direction.
"That was… fast," someone muttered from a table near the wall.
"Fast? She moved like a mana blade," another said.
"Did you see her eyes? They glowed," a younger adventurer whispered, not quite quietly enough.
I pretended not to hear, making my way back toward the quest board. My HUD was already back to calmly highlighting postings like nothing happened. Meanwhile, the room's mood had shifted—from idle curiosity to that keen, measuring look adventurers give when they're sizing up competition.
A tall beastkin woman with fur-trimmed armor leaned against the bar, watching me with a faint smile. "Not bad, new girl. You take jobs as well as you take care of pests?"
"Guess we'll find out," I said, tapping the slip in my pocket.
A few chuckles rippled through the room. Some faces looked impressed, others skeptical—but all of them looked like they'd remember me.
The clerk called over, "Evans, you heading out now?"
"Yeah," I said, flashing her a grin. "Time to go hunt some homicidal bunnies."
That got a few laughs, but more than one adventurer muttered something about "crazy" under their breath. Which was fine by me. Crazy was a lot more fun than boring.