Emotion Hunter: System Awakening.

[Riven's POV]

The second morning hurt worse than the first.

Every muscle in Riven's body screamed protest as he rolled out of his bunk, the thin mattress offering no mercy to shoulders that felt like they'd been beaten with hammers.

His hands were stiff, the blisters from yesterday's work already forming calluses that would take weeks to properly develop.

Around him, other provisional residents moved through their morning routines with the mechanical efficiency of people who'd learned that being late meant the worst assignments. Lisa was already dressed, tying her boots with quick, precise movements.

"You're moving like an old man," she observed without looking up.

"Feel like one." Riven flexed his fingers, wincing at the protest from tendons he'd never known existed. "Does it get easier?"

"Eventually. Though 'easier' is relative when you're rebuilding a settlement in a dimensional wasteland."

Through the thin walls, he could hear similar conversations from other rooms. Complaints about aching backs, discussions about work assignments, the occasional nervous joke about waste management duty. Normal sounds, if anything about this situation could be called normal.

Except nothing felt normal to Riven.

The communal bathroom had six shower stalls and a constant line of people waiting to use them. Standing in that line, surrounded by strangers making small talk about their assignments, Riven felt his chest tighten without warning.

Too many people. Too close. The walls felt like they were pressing in.

He forced himself to breathe slowly, counting to four on the inhale, holding for four, exhaling for four. A technique Elena had mentioned once, though he couldn't remember when or why she'd told him about it.

The sensation passed, but left him unsettled.

"You good?" Lisa asked when he emerged from the bathroom, probably taking longer than necessary.

"Yeah. Just... adjusting."

Her expression suggested she didn't entirely believe him, but she didn't push. "Come on. Morning assignments wait for no one."

---

The main courtyard buzzed with the same organized chaos as yesterday.

Permanent residents gathered in relaxed clusters, their easy confidence marking them as people who belonged.

Provisional residents stood separately, anxious and eager to please.

The division was subtle but absolute.

Foreman Rodriguez stood near his clipboard, calling out names.

"Lisa Park... medical support. Riven Duke... construction crew seven."

Back to the wall. Back to hauling concrete and trying not to embarrass himself.

But when Riven reached section twelve, Miguel Torres was already there, inspecting equipment.

The man glanced up as Riven approached, and something in his expression had shifted from yesterday's hostility.

Hmm??...he doesn't look angry like yesterday at least. Riven thought to himself while looking at Miguel.

"Morning," Miguel said simply.

"Morning."

Miguel studied him for a moment longer, then nodded toward the work area. "Danny wants you on debris removal again. But he said you're working with Jim today on structural assessment."

Structural assessment. That was definitely different from hauling blocks.

"Jim knows what he's doing," Miguel added, which might have been the closest thing to encouragement Riven was going to get. "Pay attention and you might actually learn something."

---

Jim appeared a few minutes later, carrying a battered toolbox and wearing the kind of weathered expression that came from decades of outdoor work.

"You're the kid who pulled Miguel out yesterday," Jim said. It wasn't a question.

"I... yeah."

"You have good instincts I will give you that..... but terrible technique." Jim gestured for him to follow. "Today we're going to see if those instincts are worth developing or if you just got lucky."

They walked to a section of wall where yesterday's near-collapse had revealed underlying structural problems.

The concrete was cracked in places, warped by dimensional energy in others, and the reinforcing rebar showed signs of stress corrosion.

"First rule of structural assessment," Jim said, running his hand along a crack that spiderwebbed across the surface. "Look at everything, touch nothing until you understand what you're looking at."

Riven studied the damaged section, trying to see what Jim was seeing.

"What do you notice?" Jim asked.

"The crack. It's wider at the top than the bottom."

"Good. What does that tell you?"

"That the stress is coming from above?" Riven ventured.

"Correct. Now look at the rebar showing through here." Jim pointed to where the concrete had crumbled away, exposing the metal framework beneath. "What do you see?"

Riven leaned closer. The metal was discolored, pitted in places. "Corrosion?"

"Not just corrosion. See how it's concentrated on one side? That's dimensional energy exposure. The Veil radiation weakens the molecular bonds, makes the metal brittle." Jim pulled out a small tool and gently tapped the exposed rebar. It rang with a dull sound rather than the clear ping of healthy steel. "This whole section is compromised. We have to remove it before it fails under load."

They worked in silence for a while, with Jim explaining each step of the evaluation process while Riven tried to absorb information that felt simultaneously overwhelming and strangely intuitive.

When Jim showed him how to identify stress fractures, Riven found himself understanding the concepts faster than expected.

Not because he had prior knowledge, but because the patterns made sense once someone explained them.

"You pick things up quick," Jim observed after Riven correctly identified a hairline crack that could become a major problem. "Most people need weeks to develop an eye for this kind of detail."

"Maybe I'm just good at seeing patterns."

"That's a useful skill." Jim moved to another section of wall. "In construction, in life, patterns are everything. Same problems show up over and over, just in slightly different forms."

Something in his tone suggested he wasn't just talking about concrete anymore.

---

Lunch break came.

Ahhh.....finally. Riven's shoulders ached from holding assessment tools at awkward angles, and his legs protested from hours of climbing over rubble.

The crew gathered in the shade of a partially repaired guard tower. Miguel passed around water bottles from a cooler while Devy distributed sandwiches from the communal kitchen.

"You did good today," Devy said as she handed Riven his lunch. "Jim only teaches the assessment stuff to people he thinks are worth training."

"Really?"

"Really. He's particular about who he invests time in." She settled onto a concrete block, unwrapping her own sandwich. "Been here seven years, and I've seen him turn down dozens of people."

Seven years?!!

Riven tried to imagine spending seven years in this place, rebuilding walls and surviving in the shadow of dimensional instability.

The scope of it felt incomprehensible.

"How long have all of you been here?" he asked.

"Since the beginning," Danny replied from where he sat reviewing his clipboard. "Most of the permanent residents are original survivors. People who lived through the Cascade Event."

"The what?"

Miguel leaned back against the guard tower, his expression distant. "Seven years ago, this whole area was just another suburban district. Middle-class families, strip malls, decent schools. My daughter went to Harmony Elementary, three blocks that way." He gestured vaguely northeast. "Then the Cascade Event happened."

"What's a Cascade Event?"

"It's a Dimensional instability chain reaction," Danny said, his voice came out as slightly cold. "It started with one Red Veil opening downtown.... But the energy signature triggered secondary rifts all over the district. Within six hours, we had twelve active Veils bleeding monsters and radiation."

The silence that followed was heavy with shared memory.

"Three thousand people lived here when it started," Jim said quietly. "By the time Hunter teams contained the breaches, maybe two hundred were still alive."

Riven felt the weight of that number settle over him. Two hundred out of three thousand. The mathematics of tragedy rendered in simple statistics.

"What happened to the evacuation?" he asked.

"Evacuation protocols assumed single-point incidents," Devy replied, her usual enthusiasm dimmed. "Nobody was prepared for multiple simultaneous breaches. The emergency services were overwhelmed within the first hour."

Danny was staring at his clipboard without seeing it. "My wife and daughter were killed in the first wave. Caught in a school when a Gray Veil manifested right in the gymnasium."

No one spoke.

What could be said that wouldn't sound hollow?

"So we built this place," Miguel eventually continued. "Scavenged materials, learned construction from books and YouTube videos while the internet still reached out here. Figured out which areas were safe and which were still dimensionally unstable."

"The Guild tried to relocate everyone," Jim added, his tone carrying an edge of bitterness. "Said this whole district was too contaminated for civilian habitation. Wanted to move us to 'appropriate facilities' and turn New Eden into a research site."

"What stopped them?" Riven asked.

The crew exchanged glances, and Devy's grin held no warmth. "Commander Vale showed up about three years ago. Made it clear the Guild could go fuck themselves."

"How?"

"By being strong enough that they decided it wasn't worth the fight," Danny said. "Guild's practical about these things. If the cost of enforcement exceeds the value of the resource, they move on to easier targets."

Riven wanted to ask more...how strong was Vale, exactly? ....What was her history with the Guild?.....but something in the crew's expressions suggested this was information he'd need to earn rather than simply ask for.

---

The afternoon work continued until the sun began its descent toward the horizon. By the time Foreman Rodriguez called the end of shift, Riven was exhausted in ways that went beyond simple physical fatigue.

But he'd learned.

The patterns Jim had shown him, the way stress traveled through damaged structures, the signs of dimensional corruption in building materials.....all of it was information he could actually use.

Walking back to provisional housing, he found himself analyzing the buildings they passed.

Spotting cracks that might indicate deeper problems, noting which structures showed signs of Veil damage versus simple weathering.

Jim had given him a way to see the settlement that went beyond surface appearances.

Lisa was waiting outside their housing block, chatting with a few other provisional residents. When she saw Riven approaching, she waved him over.

"How was day two?"

"Welll, let's just say it's pretty educational." He settled onto the steps beside her, grateful to be off his feet. "Learned about structural assessment. Apparently I'm 'picking things up quick.'"

"That's good, right?"

"I think so. Jim doesn't waste time on people he thinks are hopeless."

One of the other provisionals.....a man named Jack who'd been here for two weeks....spoke up. "You should be careful about getting too comfortable. They've been talking about resource allocation in the permanent resident meetings."

"What kind of talk?" Lisa asked, her tone sharpening.

"The kind where they mention that supporting too many provisionals is straining the settlement's food reserves," Jack replied. "Apparently there's debate about whether to extend evaluation periods or just start cutting people loose."

The information hit Riven like cold water.

He'd been focused on proving himself through work, but what if work wasn't enough? What if the settlement simply couldn't afford to keep everyone who wanted to stay?

"How many people are in provisional status right now?" he asked.

"Seventeen," Lisa said. "Not counting the ones who've been here less than a week."

Seventeen people competing for however many permanent slots the settlement could realistically support. The mathematics weren't encouraging.

"There's a convoy mission posting," another provisional resident mentioned. A woman named Claire who'd also been here for two weeks. "It's a four-day supply run through unsecured territory... Volunteers get hazard pay and priority consideration for advancement."

"Priority consideration" being the operative phrase. A way to distinguish yourself from the other sixteen people trying to prove their worth.

"That's suicide," Jack said flatly. "You know what happens to people on convoy runs, right? They come back traumatized or they don't come back at all."

"But they do come back with permanent status more often than people who play it safe," Claire countered. "My cousin made permanent after a single convoy run. Said it was the only thing that proved he wasn't dead weight."

The debate continued around him, but Riven found his attention drifting.

Through the open door of the housing block, he could see the bunk room where he'd be sleeping tonight.

Surrounded by strangers, lying awake and trying not to think about everything that had happened in the past week.

The Guild facility.

Cross's clinical evaluation of his suffering.

Sarah's blank eyes as she'd aimed an arrow at his heart.

His hands were shaking slightly. He pressed them against his thighs, hoping no one would notice.

"You okay?" Lisa asked quietly, pulling him aside from the group conversation.

"Yeah. Just... tired."

"You don't look tired. You look like you're about to jump out of your skin."

That's pretty Perceptive of her. He'd need to be more careful about that.

"It's just bad memories," he admitted, because some version of honesty seemed safer than complete deflection. "Being around a lot of people in confined spaces is... harder than I expected."

Lisa studied his face with the analytical expression of someone who'd learned to read people for survival. "Guild did a number on you, huh?"

"Something like that."

"Well, if you need space, the roof access isn't locked." She pointed to a maintenance ladder on the side of the building. "Most people don't go up there because it's technically not safe, but it's quiet."

"Thanks."

The convoy mission debate had moved into the housing block, and Riven could hear people weighing risks against potential rewards.

Claire was arguing passionately for volunteering. Jack was insisting it was too dangerous. Others were simply trying to calculate their odds of making permanent status through normal channels.

Riven should probably join that conversation. Should start thinking about his own approach to the evaluation period and what would give him the best chance of staying in New Eden.

But all he could think about was finding somewhere quiet where the walls didn't feel like they were pressing in.

He climbed the maintenance ladder to the roof, Lisa's suggestion proving accurate. It was quiet up here, with a view of the settlement stretching out in all directions.

Smoke from cooking fires, the distant sounds of community life, the twisted landscape of the Scar Zone beyond the walls.

And space to breathe without anyone watching.

Riven sat on the roof's edge, legs dangling over the side, and let himself feel everything he'd been holding back during the workday.

The exhaustion.

The fear.

The crushing weight of uncertainty about whether he'd be able to stay here, whether he'd ever see Marcus again, whether any of this struggle was leading somewhere meaningful.

Below him, New Eden continued its evening routines.

People heading to the communal dining hall. Guards changing shifts on the walls.

The ordinary miracle of civilization rebuilding itself in the ruins of catastrophe.

And somewhere in that organized community was Commander Vale, the person who'd built all of this and apparently had enough power to make the Guild back down.

The person who'd looked at Elena and seen value, but looked at me and saw just another Guild escapee with questionable worth...

Sigh...

Riven didn't volunteer for convoy duty that night.

Didn't make dramatic declarations or impulsive decisions.

He just sat on the roof and watched the settlement below, trying to figure out who he needed to become to deserve a place in it.

Tomorrow he'd go back to work. Tomorrow he'd learn more from Jim, maybe earn more respect from Miguel, maybe start building the kind of reputation that would make permanent status feel possible rather than aspirational.

But tonight, he just breathed and tried to remember that survival was more than physical.

The sun set over the Scar Zone, painting the twisted landscape in shades of orange and purple.

The day is ending faster now, at least