The auto-rickshaw ride home was a blur of muted colours and engine noise. Soumya clutched the thick manila envelope of IHGA forms to her chest like a shield, the sharp corners digging into her arm. The sprawling, vibrant chaos of Bangalore passed by unseen. The System, her System, remained silent in her mind, an unfeeling witness to the slow-motion implosion of her hopes.
She lived on the edge of a Grey Zone, in a cramped but clean two-bedroom flat on the fourth floor of a concrete apartment block. Blue Zone apartments, with their integrated mana shields and private Hunter patrols, were as far out of reach as the moon. Here, the power flickered twice a week, and the distant wail of a Gate siren was a familiar, if unsettling, lullaby.
Her parents were waiting. The moment she walked through the door, her mother, Anjali, rushed forward, her face etched with a fear that was quickly replaced by overwhelming relief. She wrapped Soumya in a hug that smelled of turmeric and cardamom.
"Soumya! We heard… on the news… a Dungeon Break at the university!"
Her father, Prakash, stood behind, his hand resting on the back of a worn armchair, his knuckles white. He was a quiet man, an accountant whose firm had downsized twice since the Rupture. "Are you hurt? They said there were casualties."
Soumya shook her head, pulling away from her mother's embrace. "I'm fine. I'm okay." She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. She took a deep breath. "More than okay. I… I Awakened."
The silence that followed was absolute. Her mother's hands flew to her mouth. Her father's face went slack with shock. For a beat, there was a single, shared thought in the small room: Everything is about to change.
"A Hunter," her father whispered, sinking into the armchair. "You're a Hunter."
The initial shock quickly gave way to a flood of excited questions. What was her rank? What were her skills? Could she create fire? Could she lift a car?
Soumya forced a smile and deflected, explaining her skill in the most positive light she could. She told them she could analyze things, find weaknesses. She left out the part about her abysmal physical stats. She didn't mention the IHGA official's dismissive tone. She didn't tell them she was an E-Rank. Not yet. She couldn't bear to see the hope in their eyes curdle into the same disappointment she felt in her gut.
That fragile bubble of hope lasted until dinner.
After they had eaten, her father sat down at the small dining table with a calculator and a notepad, the same way he did every month to budget their expenses. He put on his reading glasses.
"Alright," he said, his voice business-like, a familiar coping mechanism. "Let's make a plan. What do you need to get started?"
Soumya opened the envelope and spread the IHGA forms on the table. The conversation immediately turned from the fantastical to the grimly practical.
"The Provisional License application fee is fifty-thousand rupees," she said, pointing to the first line.
Her father's pen stopped moving. Fifty-thousand. That was more than a month's rent.
"And the exam itself," Soumya continued, her voice losing its forced cheerfulness, "has a practical component. I'll need basic equipment. The regulations state a licensed Hunter must provide their own gear."
She pulled out a printout she'd gotten from an IHGA terminal. It was a price list for entry-level Hunter gear.
Standard E-Rank Body Armor (Impact Resistant): ₹80,000Mana-Conductive Knife (Grade F): ₹35,000Low-Grade Healing Potion (Single Use): ₹15,000 per vialBasic Gate Comms Unit (Weaver, rental): ₹5,000 per day
The numbers piled up, each one a brick being stacked on her family's already strained finances. Her mother came over and looked at the list, her face paling.
"This much?" she whispered. "It's… this is more than our savings."
Her father stared at the numbers on his notepad. He wasn't looking at a hero's starting kit. He was looking at a debt they couldn't possibly afford. The weight of her dream, once an ethereal thing of hope and glory, had suddenly materialized into a crushing, physical burden. It had a price tag, and it was a price they could not pay.
Later that night, unable to sleep, Soumya sat in the dark of the living room. She scrolled through the Hunter forums on her phone, the screen's glow illuminating her worried face. She saw ads targeted at people exactly like her.
"New Hunter? Big Dreams, Empty Pockets? MANA-RISE FINANCIAL Can Help!"
"Instant Loans for Hunter Start-Up Packages! Gear, Fees, Training—All Covered!"
"Don't Let Your Rank Define Your Future! Invest in Yourself Today!"
She clicked on one. The interest rates were predatory, designed to trap new Hunters in a cycle of debt, forcing them to take dangerous jobs just to make the weekly payments. It was financial servitude.
A cold, hard resolve began to form in the pit of her stomach. This wasn't about fame or saving the world anymore. It wasn't about becoming a hero from the comic books she'd read as a child.
This was about survival.
Her Awakening wasn't a gift. It was a bill. And if she wanted to pay it, she would have to fight. Not just monsters in Gates, but the crushing, mundane reality of a world that put a price on even the slimmest chance of a better life. The path to becoming a Hunter was a sheer cliff face, and the first step was a leap of faith into a chasm of debt.