Once Frieren stepped forward, she found herself on a sidewalk that curved like a dungeon's approach,"
she reached the entrance, she found two guards standing at rigid attention.
When they saw Frieren, they opened the gate quickly.
One of them said, "That's her , the frowning girl Kraft mentioned."
"Yeah, yeah, one hundred," the other added.
The path was flanked by smooth, dark stones that seemed to absorb the sunlight, creating a tunnel-like effect despite being open to the sky.
They were expecting me. And apparently, I have a reputation for frowning. How observant, she thought.
But Kraft... some traditions even you won't let fade, she thought,
her eyes tracing the masonry for enchantments older than the city she'd left behind.
Once the security guards opened the gate, the hall was empty, the walls were white. She stepped in as she scanned the area; she saw a camera pointing at her.
You had to have an explanation for those eyes, Kraft she thought.
Frieren entered a vast space filled with workers
a hive of chaotic activity.
"You there! Don't forget to count our next investment share!" a man shouted while writing on his PC.
"Watch your mouth! I already did next month's preparation!" another replied, his coffee cup rattling in its saucer.
Another worker turned to the window, seeing the landscape of the beach. "That's the only thing that calms me down," he said as he sipped his coffee.
They moved with a frantic energy that reminded her of ants whose hill had been disturbed, all shouting about things called "shares" and "investments" that held no meaning to her.
She stood motionless for a moment, a still point in the storm of their activity, her gaze drifting from the camera to the bustling workers. This was not the quiet, mystical sanctuary she had anticipated.
This is not what I expected. All this noise and haste for pieces of paper and glowing boxes, she thought. She stepped forward,
her cloak brushing against a stack of papers that suddenly seemed terribly important to someone.
No one seemed to notice her until a woman with glasses, holding a stack of papers, stared at her.
"You must be Frieren?" she said as she adjusted her glasses.
Frieren nodded.
"Use the elevator. You will find him on the last floor."
Frieren blinked, the unfamiliar word meaning nothing to her.
The woman placed two fingers on her temple. "Ah, excuse me. Follow me," she said.
The woman let out a soft sigh, then turned on her heel. Once they reached the elevator,
the woman tapped on the digital panel.
Frieren saw the number decreasing; she didn't say anything, she just watched the numbers change.
Once they entered, the thing that came to Frieren's mind was a translocation spell she used to use.
How efficient. They've mastered translocation, she thought as she saw the woman tapping on the numbers like she was inputting a magical sequence.
The doors slid shut with a quiet, definitive sound, sealing them in. There was a moment of perfect stillness, then a subtle pressure.
Frieren felt her body weight lighten, as if she were melting. She didn't flinch; she remained composed, almost normal.
This feels like magic she thought.
Once the door opened, Frieren noticed that the wall colors had changed.
So we arrived, she thought.
"So, where should I meet him?" Frieren asked as she stared at the woman.
"Through that door. The only thing here that doesn't scream," the woman said as she pointed at the fancy door.
"Now, excuse me." Once she pressed the button, the door closed, leaving Frieren alone in the hushed corridor.
She approached the window with her usual measured pace, her fingers brushing the cool glass as she looked down, the shouts and laughter of volleyball players lost to the distance.
It really happened... I've been translocated, she thought.
Then she turned to the big door, stepping a bit quicker this time.
The fancy door was made of deep, polished wood; she brushed it before knocking.
Once her hand reached the door, she heard a steady, grunting count: "1… 2… 3… 4… 1… 2… 3… 4…"
she opened the door, Kraft was there, in the middle of the floor, mid-squat.