Liv lets her eyes roam over the board, mulling the options over in her mind again and again. Her team had reconvened after a bit of a rest from missions– just over a week to be exact. Liv had spent her time training her new, strange sense. While far from perfect, she could consistently call upon it. By the end of her training, she was dodging the Loong without the fold, her eyes and ears completely open. She went home everyday with a depleted weapon and a sore body, but it was well worth it! Faraji seemed to warm up a bit. Not by much, but still enough for Liv to notice.

  Her team stands around her, their own eyes roaming across the board. It was early enough to make the She hadn’t spoken to any of them since the mission; though, they certainly hadn’t been avoidant of her in the same way she had been of them. Donovan seemed to spend the money he got well, now dressed to the nines in the latest and greatest modern fashion trends. Charlotte seemed exhausted, something about a mingling event between rich people. Anthony seemed the same, though he seemed skittish whenever Liv would shoot a glance his way. He was sweating more than usual too.

  “I reckon we take one of these Strata’s.” Liv says, plucking one of the papers from the wall. It seemed to be within their range of possibility, though most likely on the higher end. “New too, can’t be too dangerous.”

  “Or it could be dangerous because it’s new.” Anthony interjects, a twinge of nerves in his voice. “Not enough people have died on it to get a good feel of its general level.”

  Liv gives him a sideways glare, a frown spreading across her face. She allows her eyes to flit to her other teammates, their gazes turning to the paper within their hands. She had chosen their last mission, but she needed to choose this one as well if she wanted to prove her point, to show that she could be trusted with responsibility, and to showcase how much she had improved in this short amount of time.

  “Reckon we’ll be provin’ it’s easy.” LIv says. “Y’all two got any objections?”

  “I’d prefer to not die.” Donovan says, adjusting the jacket on his shoulders. It was one of the only parts of his ensemble that hadn’t changed, the rips and tears mended by a clearly skilled craftsman. “But it’ll pay more, won’t it? I’m cool with it.”

  Charlotte flits her eyes toward Anthony, his head rapidly swishing to the negative. She gulps, turning to Liv with tired eyes. Liv stares back, a defiant stare in her eyes. Charlotte can’t help but smile. No holding back, no false pretenses. “I’m quite interested in exploring this Strata. I haven’t conquered one since the test, so I have no qualms trying this new one.”

  Liv smiles, bunching the paper up in her hands. “Guess we’re goin’ then!”

  “Great…” Anthony mutters, his hands running down his face. “Guess we can meet in the garage by ten-.”

  “I reckon seven’ll be better.” Liv interjects, giving a wag of the finger. Faraji had told her the optimal times for travel, especially on weekdays with the morning rush. “We’ll avoid traffic and we’ll be gettin’ fresh mornin’ air."

  “...You want us to prepare in two hours?” Anthony says, his hand digging in his pocket. He produces a small pocket watch, tapping the display with his finger. “It’s five twenty-three.”

  “I have to concur with Anthony.” Charlotte agrees. “Though, ten might be a bit too much time. Can we agree on eight?’

  “I’m cool with that.” Donovan says, his thumbs jutting up. “Gives us enough time to grab breakfast before we go! I saw this cool Filipino restaurant down the street with some good looking barbecue skewers.”

  “I ‘spose I can live with that.” Liv mutters. It wasn’t ideal, nor was it optimal, but she supposed getting a bit more time to prepare would be good; plus, they’d still probably avoid the morning rush if they hurried. According to Kara, the rush started around eight thirty, re-surging at five when a large portion of the population clocked out of work near five.

  “I… Fine, sure.” Anthony murmurs, his hands slotting into his pocket. “I’ll have to rush to get some more camera film. See you guys then.” He quickly rushes off, pumping his legs as fast as they’ll go. The rest of the group quickly follows, Liv heading up to her room to pack accordingly. A soft hum escapes her mouth, the song cascading off the walls. Charlotte and Donovan chatter behind her, their weapons strapped to their body. Even now, she could hear the slight hum of their Synth Signature. Each had their own distinct sound, though hers sounded duller than how Faraji described his own. Charlotte’s was a soft hum, a harp in a field of flowers. Donovan’s was like a raucous drum demanding to be heard. She wondered, for a brief moment, what hers sounded like to them– if they could even hear it, that is.

  She quickly dips in her room, stuffing her bag with all the items she would need. Since they were going in a Strata, she would need more materials: food, water, and changes of clothing. She needed to be as efficient as possible, as good a leader as possible. If she wanted to do that, she would need a few more items– items that she’d need to buy in town. She quickly drops the bag, fishing the cash from under her pillow as she turns to sprint out the door.

  After a half hour of stair descention, Liv bursts through the entrance of the Initiative, the sun barely cresting the smaller buildings looming above her. The Initiative was built into four distinct rungs, each with a distinct purpose. The Center Rung is the Beta spire, the towering spire that made up the heart of the entire branch. The rung next to that was the Gilded Sector, filled with the wealthy shopping districts and bougie suites. The official reason it was so close to the Initiative itself was because they “were using already existing buildings”; though, Kara had explained to Liv the likely answer was so they got protection first if the branch ever went under attack. The middlemost rung is the Fused Sector, an amalgamation of shops, clubs, bars, and every luxury forgotten by the new world. The final one is just named the “Outer Sector”; though, it’s colloquially and commonly called the “Poor Sector”. It houses ninety percent of the Beta branches total people, though one would be hard pressed to find a single home over six hundred square feet.

  Liv rushes past the first two, her pockets full as she searches the Fused Sector for items to make the trip optimal. There are a few things that catch her eye: dried meats, thermoses that promise to keep food and drinks alike cold, small cupped noodles that look especially easy to transport… All good options, she supposes– just not enough to optimize like she wants. She eventually stops, however, as a small item catches her attention from its prominent placement in its display window.

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  A mini fridge, only a little bigger than her calf. It had a baby blue coating, shining in the blinking display lights. It was surrounded by other pieces of tech: lamps, chairs, and the like. It was even portable, relying on what looked to be a battery instead of a plug. She stares in wide eyed wonder, sparkles glinting in her eye. It was perfect for storing leftovers, optimizing food waste! Her eyes darted to the price, her enthusiasm boiling over to horror. The damn thing costs as much as she got from her last mission! If she bought it… She wouldn’t be able to buy anything else. She bites her lip, staring longingly at its baby blue sheen. She just couldn’t justify it, even if it would drastically reduce their food waste… Even if it was cool…

  The door jingles pleasantly as she opens it, her head hung as she enters the small shop. Damn her, but it was just too cool to pass up! She could maybe make a trade or something, work for a bit of extra money. Maybe a bit now and a bit later? She didn’t know the specifics, she just knew she wanted it.

  The store is old, the loose planks of the floor creaking under her weight. The air is heavy in the air, a strange mix of stale and moist in the building's advanced age. The smell was hard to place, though there was a distinct twinge of old wood, ancient books, and an artificial smell from some sort of air freshener. There was barely any room to walk amongst the shelves and junk sprouting around her, dust lining their surfaces heavy. They had everything: silverware, toys, clothing, electronics, and a million other things Liv couldn’t put a name to. The entire place was small, its abundant items crammed into a shop the size of a corner store.

  Liv wades through the piles of items to the front counter– a small, cramped space with a staircase spiraling behind it. A small bell is perched on its surface– not the type with a plunger, but a genuine bell with a small hammer. She grabs it, eyeing it before tapping the bell, the sound cascading through the eerily silent space. For a moment, there's silence. Then, out of the blue, a crash sounds out from the ceiling, the clatter of something falling to the floor echoing in Liv’s ears. She blinks, wondering for a moment if the building’s structural integrity was wounded by a simple toll of a bell; however, that thought is extinguished by a figure practically throwing themselves down the stairs.

  “Hello!” They nearly scream, their arms waving excitedly, soot covering their face. They’re young, perhaps in their mid to late teens– no older than sixteen, though she couldn’t see him being any older than fourteen. He was short, the top of his head barely cresting Liv’s eye level. His thin body was covered in a strange get up: a high collared vest, a tie, and a jacket that seemed a few sizes too large on his spindly frame. “Welcome to the Treasure Trove Turnabout! Can I help you find something you desire?”

  Liv stares blankly at him for a moment, taken aback with the excitement in his voice. Eventually, she finds the words to speak. “..Are ya ok?”

  “Never better!” He says, dusting his face off with his hands. “I was fixing something upstairs. I simply didn’t expect company, especially not so early!”

  Liv nods. Her manners eventually catch up with her addled mind, one of her hands snaking out to grasp his. She gives it a single, firm pump, her face going impassive. “Liv Boss.”

  “...A handshake?” He questions, his own gaze turning to their clasped hands. The smile that grows across his face can only be described as radiant, his other hand cupping around their clasped hands, shaking them vigorously. “So you’re a connoisseur of the past as well! It’s rare to meet one such as myself these days!”

  Liv blinks once more as her arm is violently flung around by the shop keep in front of her. Eventually, it seems the idea of the greeting caught up to his excitement about its origin, a flush spreading across his face.

  “I apologize, I forgot!” He says. “My name is Elton! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Liv!”

  “Right back at ya.” She responds, slipping her hand from his grasp. Before she can inquire about her actual reason to be here, he sweeps his arms out, his smile somehow growing.

  “Now that our introductions are out of the way, how may I help you? Paintings? Clocks? Shoes? Clothes? Cans?” He prattles on, naming off each with a finger.

  “Actually,” Liv interjects, killing off Elton’s prattling in a matter of moments. “I was thinkin’ ‘bout buyin’ that ‘lil fridge thing ya got on display.”

  “Ahhh, the minifridge!” Elton nods, rubbing his chin all the while. “That beaut is a classic from the fifties! Gotta get the zinc batteries to keep it going, though. It's a bit of a pain to find those, but I got all of it right here!” On cue, he pulls out a large tub filled to the brim with discarded batteries. “I’d be willing to part with the whole lot for… About eight thousand.”

  Liv’s eyes bulge out of her skull. That was nearly double what she had and damn near double the cost of the fridge alone! All that just for batteries and a fridge? The indignation on her face must’ve shown through as Elton laughs, his arms crossing over his chest.

  “Expensive, right? Well, that model only really takes zinc batteries… And it’s an antique! Honestly, it deserves to be in a museum. I wish I could keep it, but I gotta keep the lights on somehow.”

  Liv sighs, her head hanging low with disappointment. She really wanted the damn thing, but there was no way she could justify dropping that much.

  “I’ll give ya four thousand for both of em, and I’ll pay ya two thousand when I get back!” She calls, her hand raising to display a prominent two. “I promise ya!”

  “Four thousand? For something that rare!?” He questions, his eyebrow raising up. He had the guise of outrage, though he was laying it on just a bit too thick to be believable. “I say! That’s not nearly enough to cut it!”

  “C’mon!” Liv says. “I’ll get ya back! I just wanna buy one for my mission, but I dunno where I can get another on short notice!”

  “...You’re an initiate?” He questions, giving her a once over.

  “Yeah.” Liv confirms, her gauntleted hands splaying out.

  At this revelation, he sighs, his arms crossing over his chest. “Alright. I can spring eight thousand in two payments.”

  Liv bites her lip, lost in a daze of thought. That would be two whole checks… But would it recoup her losses with its pure value? It was a pretty little thing, and she believed it would be more than useful. The price, though…

  “Seven thousand.” Liv interjects. “I’ll give ya four here, three later.”

  “Deal!” He says, his hand extending, a smile spreading across his face. Liv takes it, a smile spreading across her own. After a bit of bagging, she sprinted out of the cluttered shop with a bag of batteries and the baby blue minifridge nestled between her arm and side. She’d not only saved time on shopping, but the tool she gained would no doubt prove invaluable to her! She couldn’t wait to see the looks on her team's faces when they saw what she bought.