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Wednesday, September 28th, 2253 - 7:23 am

The Mystical Menagerie.

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Jeremiah yawned as he strolled down Market Street, shoulders still heavy with the remnants of sleep. The early morning painted the street in a gentle gray haze, storefronts glowing softly under the first touch of the sun. Market Street was quieter at this hour, its usual chaos distilled down to a handful of regulars: an old man tending to his produce stall, a courier weaving between puddles, the old grocer Sally in a blue apron unlocking the shutters to her store.

He caught the occasional glance thrown his way, whispers trailing in his wake like the faint scent of pastry drifting from Ulrick's. That was new. Only days before, Jeremiah had been just another face lost in the morning shuffle, indistinguishable from anyone else heading to work. Now, after Ulrick's boisterous welcome and yesterday's party, it seemed rumors were already spreading. That could be a good thing or a bad, depending on the kind of attention he garnered. But like Mero had told him, he was going to have eyes on him regardless. All the more reason to ensure those eyes looked at him positively.

He rolled his shoulders as he balanced Billy's bowl, trying to shrug off the fog of two late nights in a row. His new System-boosted Physique helped, but even magic didn't quite banish the ache behind his eyes. At least Sally's welcome gift would help with that — a woven basket of gourmet coffee beans and fragrant teas, tucked behind the shop counter.

Ulrick's pastries had been devoured almost entirely by the party crowd, but there'd been just enough left for a hasty breakfast, and maybe some for customers… if his greedy kraken didn't get to them first. He made a mental note to swing by the bakery for a refill — and maybe to thank Ulrick properly for his generosity the day before.

He rounded the corner into the alley that led to his shop and paused. There on the stone bench, was Samantha Woods. She wore the same trench coat from the night before, but her usual thick sweater had been swapped for a tailored, button-down shirt, tucked neatly into dark slacks. Even her wild red hair looked a bit more contained, braided back and pinned out of her eyes. The early morning light caught the copper in it, setting off little sparks with every shift of her head.

As Jeremiah approached, Sam stood, smoothing her coat with an absent-minded gesture and offering him a bright, familiar smile. "Good morning, Jerry."

Jeremiah blinked. "Uh… right, good morning, Sam. When you said you'd be here in the morning, I was thinking, you know, after breakfast. Did I keep you waiting long?"

She laughed, an easy ringing sound that chased away a bit of his nerves. "Not at all. I only just got here myself. Figured it was best to bring the animals early, let them settle into the new routine."

Jeremiah nodded, setting Billy's bowl down beside her and glancing up and down the alley, puzzled. "That makes sense. But… where are they? I don't see any crates. Did Mero let you in already?" He tried to peer through the shop windows, half-expecting to see a parade of paws and tails through the glass.

Sam's smile curved into something just a touch smug. She lifted one hand, fingers dancing in the air in a clear indication she had opened her own HUD "Give me just a second," she said, before her gaze drifted upward.

Jeremiah followed her gaze, just as a faint shimmer cut through the air above the courtyard tree. With a soft hum, a sleek carrier drone the size of a compact car emerged from the empty space, its reflective surface flickering as its cloaking dropped away. The drone flew into the cramped alley before parking above the ground with grace.

Jeremiah's jaw went slack. "Isn't this one of Sarah's—?"

Sam cut him off, wagging her finger with mock sternness. "Oh, no you don't! This one's all mine. That it might have started with Sarah's design, or that she helped upgrade and improve it, well — that's nobody's business but mine. Especially not the city's, got it?" Her words were laced with snark, but there was a spark in her blue eyes, the playful tilt of her mouth making Jeremiah snort with laughter.

"Right," he said, grinning. "Absolutely none of their business. And I suppose if these drones just happen to be a bit more affordable than the city's old contract, and someone new just happens to outbid them, well, that's just good business, isn't it?"

Sam matched his grin, eyes gleaming as she winked.

After Sarah's death, Sam had been one of the most outspoken about how the city started piecemealing his sister's legacy to the highest bidder. That she hadn't quit fighting that particular battle sent a quiet warmth through Jeremiah's chest.

Sam strode to the drone, palm pressing firmly to a small, glowing panel on its side. With a faint hiss, the bay door lifted, revealing three animal crates nestled inside. Even before she reached in, Jeremiah could hear the riotous yips and scramble of puppies echoing from one of them.

Sam grabbed the nearest crate, muscles tensing as she hefted it out. Jeremiah scooped up Billy's bowl and swung the shop's front door open for her, Billy peeking over the rim of his castle with sleepy, golden eyes, gaze sharpened by curiosity at the new arrivals.

Sam set her crate just inside, then she and Jeremiah returned to retrieve the remaining two. The drone shimmered as its camouflage powered up, vanishing with only a faint gust swirling through the alley.

Together, they carried their loads inside. Sam shot Jeremiah an odd, appraising look, one eyebrow arched. "You're stronger than you look. Old Milo there isn't light."

Jeremiah knelt beside his crate and peered inside. A grey-muzzled basset hound watched him from within, stoic and dignified. Milo's long ears flopped forward as he blinked up at Jeremiah. The dog was hefty for his breed — Jeremiah guessed at least sixty pounds, not counting the weight of the crate itself. Oddly, he'd barely felt the strain.

He straightened, rubbing the back of his neck, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. "I've been… working out lately. Guess it's starting to pay off." It wasn't an exact lie. He had been working out ever since his first confrontation with Jonny outside of Ulrick's bakery. But Mero had impressed on him the danger of letting Sam know too much this soon.

Sam eyed him for a moment longer, her expression thoughtful, but let it drop. "Hmm." She turned back to the crates, a faint smirk at the corner of her mouth.

"Then I guess I should introduce you to everyone," Sam said, crouching to unlatch Milo's crate. The old hound shuffled out, pausing to take in the unfamiliar space, long ears swinging like pendulums with each step.

Sam crouched beside him, palm gliding gently over his grizzled head. Milo's tail swept a slow, happy arc against the floor. "You've met Milo. He's a good boy. Quiet too." Her smile turned soft, a shadow passing through her eyes. "His last owners left him at the shelter when he… got sick."

Jeremiah felt something twist in his chest. Sam looked up, meeting his gaze for a heartbeat. "I managed to help, but medicine can't cure old age." She ran her hand one more time down Milo's back. "He doesn't have long left. But I thought he deserved somewhere kind for his last stretch — not just the back room of a shelter."

Jeremiah dropped to one knee, hand outstretched. Milo inspected his palm with a slow, cautious sniff, then gave it a grateful lick. Jeremiah's face broke into a smile.

A sharp clatter snapped his attention to the second crate. The door rattled, and the shop rang with urgent puppy yelps.

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Sam huffed in amusement and popped open the latch. Instantly, two yellow comets shot out, barreling into Jeremiah and bowling him over.

"Whoa—!" He landed on the floor, barely able to defend himself against a storm of pink tongues and oversized paws. Sam's laughter rang through the shop.

Milo barked, deep and commanding. The puppies froze mid-bounce, giving Jeremiah the chance to scramble upright and wipe drool from his cheek.

"These two troublemakers," Sam said, grinning as she pointed, "are Tish and Tosh." The one with a pink collar tumbled over her brother, blue-collared, both tails wagging like flags.

"They're the last of a batch of puppies we got in the other week. I don't think Paul's had time to walk them much if you couldn't tell. So…" Sam said, a sly glint in her eye.

Jeremiah, still catching his breath from the puppy ambush, smirked. "So why not dump them on the guy with a huge courtyard?"

She grinned, tilting her head. "Well, if you're offering, who am I to say no?"

He gave an exaggerated sigh and shook his head, but there was no mistaking the warmth in his eyes as he bent to peer into the final crate. A warning yowl and low hiss greeted him, sharp and unmistakably feline. Curled protectively in the back corner was a large tortoiseshell cat, her fur bristled in wary tufts. Beside her, a wriggling pile of tiny, multi-colored kittens mewled and squirmed, barely visible beneath her sheltering tail.

Sam joined him, kneeling at his side. "This is Sissy. She's a stray someone brought in after finding her pregnant. She's… well, let's just say she's a little spicy. Not that I blame her, after what she's been through." She gestured to the kittens. "The little ones don't have names yet. The family who found them just couldn't keep them, so… here we are."

Jeremiah nodded, gentle in his movements as he lifted the crate. He carried it to the broad front display window, where the first hints of morning sunlight filtered through, painting gold patterns on the floor. With practiced hands, he reached for a black cube on a nearby shelf — a nondescript device, easily overlooked unless you knew what to look for.

Sam raised an eyebrow, curiosity clear. "Oh? What's that, then?"

Jeremiah flashed a lopsided grin. He cupped the omni-crate in his palm, and as soon as his HUD flickered to life, a translucent menu floated before his eyes.

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Select Configuration

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He scrolled through the options, selecting "Cat Nesting Box" and adjusting the dimensions until it fit snugly against the display nook. He pressed it against the glass, and with a light tap, the cube rippled, its surface shimmering and twisting in ways that made his eyes water just to watch.

The transformation took only seconds, but when the light faded, a small habitat had replaced the black cube: a cozy, climate-controlled enclosure, complete with a plush cat house, kitten-sized scratching posts, and a dangling perch just high enough for Sissy to escape her rowdy kittens. The enclosure's front wall fused seamlessly to the window, creating a perfect spot for passersby to watch the kittens play. On the far side was a small, staff-only hatch — just out of reach of tiny paws — so Jeremiah could swap out food and water without disturbing the family.

Sam whistled low. "Well now, that was impressive." Her gaze sharpened, lingering on the omni-crate's subtle runes and seamless transformation. "That's not Sarah's tech, either," she added, curiosity alive in her voice.

Jeremiah gave a sheepish chuckle and scratched the back of his cheek, refusing to meet her eyes. "You know how it is."

Sam sighed, but her expression softened. "I get it. Don't worry. But tell Mero I haven't forgotten his promise. Sooner or later, I will have the full story. Whether he thinks I'm 'ready' or not."

Jeremiah's shoulders relaxed, relief showing in the drop of his voice. "Thanks, Sam. I'll let him know you're holding him to it."

She nodded, but her eyes were already scanning the row of black cubes on the shelf. "That said, the shelter could really use a few of these. Are you selling them?"

Jeremiah blinked, momentarily thrown. "I… honestly hadn't considered it. They're not cheap, and they're a bit niche. Not exactly something most customers would pick up on a whim."

Sam rolled her eyes, her mouth curving into a smirk. "Jeremiah, I am not most customers, and you know it. I can handle a premium — especially if it makes the animals' lives easier." She plucked four of the cubes off the shelf with practiced ease, as if daring him to object.

He managed a laugh, then lifted Sissy's crate and lowered it into her new enclosure. She didn't exit immediately, but she could explore on her own terms and time.

He turned toward the front counter, switching on his new register — a sleek, System-enhanced slab of glass and light. It honestly looked more like a fancy desktop than what he would have expected to see in a small shop. As he scanned one of the cubes, a glowing screen materialized before his eyes.

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The scanned item is not a registered merchandise and does not have a recommended markup.

Please manually set a price.

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Jeremiah hesitated, thumb hovering over the input as he mentally debated what would be fair.

"Jeremiah, don't you dare," Sam cut in, her tone suddenly firm.

He looked up, caught, and saw her standing with arms crossed, eyes sharp with warning.

"Don't pretend, I recognize that look on your face. You were going to mark them down, weren't you?" Sam shook her head. "Jerry, I might be limited in what I can do to help the shelter without some pencil pusher trying to get in the way, but I've got more money than I know what to do with. You're a shopkeeper now. If you're going to get anywhere, you can't treat every friend like a charity case. Don't insult me like that."

Jeremiah's cheeks burned, but he managed a rueful smile. "All right. I promise, no discounts you haven't earned."

Sam grinned, satisfied. "That's more like it."

Even then, it took Jeremiah a moment to think of a good price that would leave both of them satisfied. Eventually, he settled on one and finished ringing up the omni-crates.

There was a ding, and a total appeared on the register screen in front of Sam.

She peered down at the price… and frowned. "Jeremiah…" she said with a warning.

Jeremiah furrowed his brow, unsure of the issue. He turned the screen to get a look at it himself.

On the screen were displayed two prices, one in Quantum Marks and the other in Nexus Credits.

Jeremiah frowned, instantly seeing what had concerned Sam.

"Why is the cost in credits so much higher?" he asked out loud, more to himself than Sam.

Sam raised a brow. "You didn't know?"

Jeremiah shook his head. "No. You're, ah… kinda my first customer," he responded sheepishly.

Sam chuckled and shook her head. She did a quick calculation in her head. "At the current exchange rate through the QTM, that's nearly a 20% difference. Not huge, but significant enough that most people would prefer to pay in marks."

Jeremiah considered Sam's words carefully. Was this the System's way of promoting marks? It would make sense, given what he knew of them and the System's goals.

He turned back to Sam. "I hate to ask… but would you mind paying in marks?" He quickly raised a hand. "Not that I'm trying to get you to take the discount. It's just marks are a… bit more important to me, at the moment," he added.

Sam chuckled again and nodded. "No problem. I'll not turn down a real discount. I just don't need charity." She reached over and tapped the 'pay now' button on the register screen.

Instantly, two new screens appeared in front of Jeremiah.

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Sale Made: 180 marks received.

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Congratulations! You have received the Achievement: [Open For Business!]

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Jeremiah waved the System screens away and watched as Sam reached for her omni-crates.

As her fingers brushed over the cubes, they vanished, whisked away in a shimmer of light. Jeremiah's eyes widened, mouth falling open in amazement.

Sam only grinned, holding up her hand to show off a plain jade-green ring resting on her thumb.

Jeremiah snorted, lips quirking in a half-smile. "Show off," he said, unable to hide his envy.

Sam stuck her tongue out.

They shared a quiet, comfortable grin. For a moment, the heaviness of the morning faded, replaced by the easy warmth of old friends. Jeremiah's gaze drifted toward the pastry counter.

"Did… did you want to stay for breakfast?" he offered. "It's mostly leftovers from last night, but I can put on a pot of coffee or tea."

Sam looked genuinely regretful, shifting her weight as she shook her head. "Ah… I'm sorry, Jerry, but I can't today. I've got some important business to handle. That's part of why I brought the animals so early."

"Ah. I see." Jeremiah tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but it crept in anyway. "Maybe next time, then."

Sam's smile was bright and genuine. "Next time," she agreed, her tone soft with promise.

Jeremiah rounded the counter and walked with Sam to the door. They lingered there, the soft glow of morning filtering in around them, the silence growing just slightly heavy with things unsaid.

He drew a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "Samantha?"

"Yes, Jeremiah?" she answered, mirroring his seriousness, though a playful lilt still colored her words.

He met her eyes, steady and earnest. "Thank you," he said simply.

She blinked, caught off guard. Jeremiah pressed on, voice gentle but sure. "Thanks for the animals. For your support. For everything you did for Sarah… and," his voice dropped to a softer note, "thank you for not giving up on me."

Sam's surprise melted into something warmer, her smile gentler. "No problem, Jerry. It's the least I can do. And remember, if you ever need anything, I'm just a message away." She extended her hand, firm and familiar.

Jeremiah clasped her hand and nodded, holding her gaze. "I will. Stay safe, and good luck."

"You too, Jerry." With a last squeeze, Sam stepped out into the morning, her boots tapping softly on the stone.

Jeremiah watched her retreat down the alley, framed in the soft daylight until something gentle brushed against his leg. Looking down, he saw Milo, the old basset hound, sitting quietly at his side, watching Sam's departure as well.

Jeremiah knelt, resting a hand on Milo's grizzled head, scratching behind his long ears.

"Welcome to the Mystical Menagerie."

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