Emotion Hunter: System Awakening.

[Riven's POV]

Two hours.

The sun was halfway down now, the Scar Zone's twisted landscape throwing shadows that made the dimensional distortions look even worse. Like the world was melting at the edges.

Riven's legs were numb from sitting on the roof's edge, but he hadn't moved. Couldn't move. Every time he tried to make a decision, his brain circled back to the same arguments.

Go: prove yourself, stand out, get Vale's attention, maybe get real training.

Don't go: you're not ready, you'll die, dead people don't save their families.

Go: playing it safe hasn't worked for anyone else in provisional housing.

Don't go: playing hero without skills is just suicide with extra steps.

The math wasn't working. No matter how many times he ran the numbers, they didn't add up to an answer that felt right.

His stomach growled. He'd skipped dinner to sit up here and think, which was probably stupid. Going on a four-day convoy mission while hungry was even stupider than going on one while unprepared.

Except you're not going. You decided. Jim's right - you're not ready.

But had he decided? Because sitting here paralyzed by indecision didn't feel like a decision. It felt like cowardice dressed up as caution.

Movement below caught his attention. People were heading toward the administrative building - the one where Vale's office was, where volunteers were supposed to register. He could see Claire's distinctive red jacket, and someone else he didn't recognize.

The volunteer deadline was in less than two hours. People were making their choices, taking action, while he sat on a roof having an argument with himself.

"You planning to stay up there all night?"

The voice came from the maintenance ladder. Lisa's head appeared at roof level, climbing up with the same efficient movements she used for everything else.

"Maybe," Riven said. "It's quiet."

"It's avoidance." Lisa pulled herself onto the roof, settling a few feet away from him. "You're hiding."

"I'm thinking."

"You've been thinking for three hours. At some point thinking becomes an excuse not to act."

She wasn't wrong. But that didn't make the decision any easier.

"Did you volunteer?" he asked.

"Not yet. Came to find you first." Lisa pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them. "Figured we should probably talk this through before we do something that might kill us."

"You're actually considering it?"

"Aren't you?"

Riven gestured at the roof around them. "I've been sitting up here trying to figure that out for the past three hours."

"And?"

"And I still don't know."

Lisa was quiet for a moment, watching the sun continue its descent. "My last settlement kicked me out because I couldn't contribute enough to justify the resources I was using. You know what that feels like? Being told you're a net negative to people's survival?"

"Probably similar to being told you're just another Guild escapee with questionable value."

"Vale said that?"

"More or less."

"So we're both trying to prove we're worth keeping around." Lisa's laugh was bitter. "Great foundation for decision-making."

Below them, more people were heading toward the administrative building. The volunteer window was narrowing.

"Jim told me not to go," Riven said. "Said I'm not ready, that I'd be rolling dice and hoping luck carries me."

"Jim's been here seven years. He has permanent status and a defined role. Easy for him to give advice about patience when he's not the one facing evaluation."

"You think he's wrong?"

"I think he's right, but that doesn't mean we have a choice." Lisa gestured toward the settlement below. "Seventeen provisional residents. How many do you think they'll actually make permanent? Five? Six? What are our odds if we play it safe?"

The question hung in the air between them.

Riven tried to calculate probabilities in his head. If they cut half the provisional residents... if they prioritized people with specialized skills... if they factored in work performance and potential...

The math kept coming back to the same uncomfortable truth: his odds weren't great either way.

"The convoy might kill us," he said.

"Staying might just be slower death." Lisa pulled out her provisional resident badge, studying it like it held answers. "Resource allocation, remember? If they decide we're not worth keeping, we're gone regardless."

A notification chimed from somewhere below - the settlement's public address system clicking on.

"Attention all residents. Convoy volunteer registration closes in ninety minutes. Any provisional residents interested in participating should report to Commander Vale's office immediately."

Ninety minutes.

"We should go down there," Lisa said. "Even if we're just going to watch other people volunteer."

She was right. Sitting on the roof wasn't helping. At minimum, he should see what the actual process looked like, who else was volunteering, what the expectations were.

They climbed down the maintenance ladder together, Riven's legs protesting from being stationary for so long. The settlement felt different now - more purposeful, more urgent. People moving with clear destinations instead of just drifting through evening routines.

The administrative building's lobby was crowded. Claire was there with her paperwork already filled out, talking animatedly with a woman Riven didn't recognize. Jack stood off to the side, looking like he was trying to work up courage to approach the registration desk.

And at the registration desk itself sat Commander Vale.

She hadn't been there when Riven passed the building earlier. Now she sat with perfect posture, reviewing documents with focused attention that suggested every decision mattered.

This was the first time Riven had seen her since that brief evaluation three days ago. She still commanded space just by existing - silver hair catching the overhead lights, tactical gear suggesting she could deploy to combat at a moment's notice, amber eyes that tracked every person in the lobby without seeming to move.

"Next volunteer," Vale said, not looking up from her paperwork.

Claire stepped forward, practically vibrating with nervous energy. "Claire Mendez, provisional resident. Here to volunteer for convoy duty."

Vale finally looked up, and Riven watched Claire's confidence falter under that amber gaze. It wasn't hostile or dismissive - just absolutely focused, like Vale was seeing through surface appearances to evaluate something deeper.

"Previous convoy experience?" Vale asked.

"None, ma'am. But I'm fast, I can follow orders, and I'm not afraid of hard work."

"Everyone's afraid. The question is whether fear makes you freeze or adapt." Vale made notes on her tablet. "You'll need to complete equipment orientation at 0600 tomorrow. Departure is 0800. Don't be late."

"Yes ma'am. Thank you ma'am."

Claire practically fled the desk, relief and terror warring on her face. She'd gotten in. She was going.

"Next."

Jack approached, movements less confident than Claire's had been. He handed over his provisional badge without meeting Vale's eyes.

"Jack Morrison. Two weeks provisional status. I'd like to volunteer for the convoy."

Vale's evaluation of Jack took longer. She pulled up his file on her tablet, scrolling through information Riven couldn't see from where he stood.

"You've been assigned waste management for the past week," Vale observed. "Why the sudden interest in field operations?"

"I need to prove I can contribute more than hauling trash, ma'am."

"Hauling trash is honest work that keeps the settlement sanitary. There's no shame in it."

"There is when it's the only thing you're trusted to do."

Vale's expression didn't change, but something in her posture suggested she'd heard that complaint before. "Equipment orientation at 0600. Don't make me regret this."

Jack nodded and retreated, looking like he wasn't sure whether to be excited or terrified.

The lobby was getting more crowded. More provisional residents arriving, some looking determined, others looking desperate. The ninety-minute deadline was creating pressure that pushed people toward decisions they might not have made otherwise.

Lisa was watching the registration process with calculating eyes. "She's evaluating more than just qualifications."

"What do you mean?"

"Claire got accepted quickly because she was confident. Jack almost got rejected because he looked defeated. Vale's testing whether people can handle pressure before they even leave the settlement."

That made sense. If you couldn't handle a simple interview under Vale's scrutiny, you definitely couldn't handle four days of convoy duty through the Scar Zone.

"You going up there?" Riven asked.

"Maybe. You?"

Before he could answer, Vale's voice cut through the lobby conversations.

"Lisa Park. Riven Duke. Step forward."

They hadn't been in line. Hadn't raised their hands or indicated interest. But Vale was looking directly at them, and the lobby had gone quiet.

Lisa shot Riven a confused glance, but they both approached the desk.

"You two have been standing in this lobby for fifteen minutes observing the volunteer process," Vale said. "Either register or leave. You're cluttering my waiting area."

"We're still deciding, ma'am," Lisa said.

"Then decide faster. I don't have time for people who can't commit." Vale's amber eyes shifted to Riven. "You're the one who saved Miguel Torres from the wall collapse yesterday."

"Yes ma'am."

"Jim Castellanos says you have good instincts but lack experience. Danny Rodriguez says you're learning fast but pushing yourself too hard. Miguel says you're either very skilled or very lucky." Vale leaned back in her chair. "Which is it?"

The question wasn't rhetorical. She actually wanted an answer.

"Probably both," Riven said honestly. "I saw the pattern in how the debris was positioned, but I was also lucky the whole thing didn't collapse while I was pulling him out."

"Honest answer. Refreshing." Vale made notes. "And you, Lisa Park. Previously rejected from another settlement for being 'resource negative.' Now you're debating whether to volunteer for a mission that might kill you just to prove you're worth keeping."

Lisa's face went pale. "How did you—"

"I review the files of every provisional resident. I know where you've been, why you left, what you're running from." Vale's tone wasn't cruel, just matter-of-fact. "So I'll ask you the same question I asked Morrison: why do you want to volunteer?"

"To prove I'm not dead weight."

"Wrong answer. Try again."

Lisa hesitated, clearly thrown by the response. "I... I want to contribute meaningfully to the settlement's survival."

"Better, but still wrong. One more try."

Riven watched Lisa struggle with the question, her usual analytical composure cracking under Vale's scrutiny. Finally, she said:

"Because I'm tired of being afraid. Afraid I'm not good enough, afraid I'll get rejected again, afraid I'll end up with nowhere to go. I want to do something that scares me and survive it."

Vale's expression softened fractionally. "That's the real answer. Fear is honest. People who volunteer because they're desperate to prove themselves usually freeze when things go wrong. People who volunteer because they want to overcome their fear usually adapt."

She made notes on her tablet, then looked at Riven. "Your turn. Why do you want to volunteer?"

Except Riven hadn't said he wanted to volunteer. He'd been standing here trying to figure that out for the past hour.

"I don't know if I do," he admitted.

The lobby went completely silent. You didn't tell Commander Vale you were undecided. You registered or you left.

But Vale's amber eyes held something that might have been approval. "Elaborate."

"Jim told me I'm not ready. That I should focus on developing skills instead of taking unnecessary risks. And he's probably right." Riven forced himself to meet Vale's gaze. "But I also know that playing it safe might not be enough to make permanent status. So I'm trying to figure out if volunteering is bravery or just desperation dressed up as courage."

Vale was quiet for a long moment, studying him with an intensity that made Riven acutely aware of every nervous habit he was trying to suppress.

"Most people who volunteer are desperate," she finally said. "They think four days of danger will erase weeks of mediocrity. Usually they're wrong. Usually they just get themselves killed while proving they shouldn't have been here in the first place."

That wasn't encouraging.

"But sometimes," Vale continued, "desperation pushes people past their self-imposed limitations. Sometimes the person who thinks they're not ready discovers capabilities they didn't know they had."

She pulled up his file on her tablet, scrolling through information he'd provided during his initial evaluation.

"Emotion-based enhancement system. Adaptive capabilities. No formal training. Guild escapee with significant psychological trauma." Vale looked up. "You're a mess of potential and problems, Duke. The question is which one wins out."

"I don't know."

"Neither do I. But I'm willing to find out." Vale made entries on her tablet. "You're both registered for convoy duty. Equipment orientation at 0600, departure at 0800. If you decide you can't handle it, tell me now. Once we leave the settlement, backing out isn't an option."

Lisa looked shocked. "We didn't actually volunteer—"

"Yes you did. The moment you walked into this lobby, you volunteered. The past hour was just you trying to talk yourselves out of it." Vale's expression held no sympathy. "I don't have patience for people who waste time on decisions they've already made."

She dismissed them with a gesture, already calling for the next volunteer.

Riven and Lisa stumbled out of the administrative building in a daze, back into the evening air that suddenly felt colder than it had before.

"Did we just get voluntold for a suicide mission?" Lisa asked.

"I think so."

"That's... I don't even know what that is."

They walked in silence for a moment, both processing what had just happened. Riven's mind was racing, trying to catch up with the fact that the decision had been made for him.

Or had it? Vale said they'd already decided by showing up. Maybe she was right. Maybe sitting on that roof for three hours had actually been him trying to work up courage rather than genuinely debating whether to go.

"Equipment orientation at 0600," Lisa said. "That's five hours from now. We should probably try to sleep."

"Yeah."

But neither of them moved toward the housing block.

"You scared?" Lisa asked.

"Terrified."

"Good. Me too." She managed a weak smile. "At least we're scared together."

They finally headed back to provisional housing, where the news had already spread. Claire was celebrating her acceptance with the kind of forced enthusiasm that suggested she was more terrified than excited. Jack sat alone in a corner, staring at his provisional badge like it might explain what he'd just committed to.

And tomorrow at 0800, they'd all leave the relative safety of New Eden for four days in the Scar Zone.

Riven lay in his bunk that night, staring at the rust stain that looked like a bird, and tried not to think about all the ways this could go wrong.

His system interface flickered at the edge of his vision, responding to his anxiety.

---

[Emotion Detected: Fear (Self)]

[Loot emotion? Y/N]

---

He dismissed it. The fear felt appropriate. Necessary, even. He was about to do something genuinely dangerous with minimal preparation and no guarantee of success.

Being afraid wasn't weakness. It was his brain correctly assessing the situation.

Outside the window, New Eden's night watch changed shifts. Guards moving with practiced efficiency, maintaining the security that let everyone else sleep peacefully.

Tomorrow, Riven would be on the other side of those walls.

And he still wasn't sure if that was bravery or stupidity.

Probably both, he thought as sleep finally claimed him.

Just like everything else in his life since entering that first Veil.