So it is done

A young guy lying on the ground of a dirty alley could repel the attention of a passer-by with three actions.

The first was that he continued to lie on the ground. This was unusual for Atlas residents, but more often than not, it would be ignored if he continued to lie in the muddy alley, and not on the main road, disturbing passers-by.

The second was their appearance. Drunkards were not the most frequent sight in Atlas. And even if Atlas residents met one, they were usually just dirty vagrants who, for some strange reason, had not yet been thrown out of their wonderful floating city. So because the young man was, which is important, young and looked neat enough, he looked nothing like a dirty drunk vagrant.

And the third fact, which was related to the second, was his clothes. A neat expensive looking cloak that could fit, as an adult and a serious inhabitant of Atlas would remark with a grin, to some magician straight out of some children's entertainment or, which was much more likely, to a Hunter.

However, Hunters almost never parted with their weapons. And therefore an unarmed Hunter lying on the floor in a dirty alley would have attracted attention especially strongly.

Although, of course, with the way mecha-shift weapons most Hunters preferred, almost anything in the young man's person could be a weapon.

Taken in its entirety, almost everybody would ignore the prospective Hunter lying in the discreet alley. All the good Hunters are all weirdos after all.

But of course, the young man was unarmed. As a proud Adept of the Order of Hermes, carrying something that the Technocrats would slobber over would be anathema. Of course, he was unarmed only in the minds of those inhabitants of Atlas familiar to Hunters rather than to the Practitioners of Art.

And the young Magician would prefer to keep it that way.

That is why, when the inconspicuous young man, who was lying so calmly in his place, seemed to shake awake, most people ignored him. And when he then calmly turned over onto his back, all the while slowly spreading his limbs in the pose of a star, nobody really noticed. When he sucked in air noisily, as if taking a deep breath, and slowly breathed out, none of those people that could curiously peeked into the alley could have guessed that the actions taken were not a manifestation of carelessness. Instead, it was a well-played performance for any possible observer, which allowed the magician currently lying on the ground to use magic under the nose of a possible completely attentive opponent.

Sharply exhaling, the young man paused for a second, to see if anyone was going to ambush him. Seeing none coming, he opened his eyes and lifted himself abruptly from the ground.

"I hate making a pentacle out of my own body." The now awakened magician, Jonathan, brought his legs and arms back together, which just a few seconds ago, thanks to his action, formed a primitive, but still effective five-directional magic seal.

"I confess, I'm still not very sure where I am... But I don't seem to be tied to a sacrificial altar or table of one of those techno-vivisectors I heard about. A reason to rejoice at my luck, at least."Jonathan grumbled, as he ran his hand over his face, to knock any remnant of sleepiness from his psyche.

Immediately, memories of what had just happened to him rushed to his mind persistently, but fragmentarily.

"Old man... Storm... Umbra? Damn it, Umbra!" Jonathan shook his head in alarm, before deciding to inspect his surroundings.

A dark alley between the shadows of several buildings, building sizes looked normal enough and at a glance seemed to be twenty-stories high. Architecturally, the building around him looked like something like these American high-rises... Although, in London's business districts, everything looks about the same.

Judging by what the fragmentary memory helpfully conveyed to Jonathan, he was not on Earth. Thanks to the old man's last ditch effort, he's now safely stranded in one of the very very many Umbral worlds. At least this Umbral world so far looked approximately similar to Earth. Jonathan could only hope that this was not another of the Umbral worlds where the Nazis won World War II, considering how many Nephandis fought for them then, he did not want to find his local Umbral refuge full of the oblivion-seeking bastards.

Shaking his head of the cheery thought of having to fight the mad magicians, Jonathan rose from the ground, then dusted himself off and looked at his surroundings closer.

The Umbral's world logic could be anything, varying so much as it is possible to find one world that is inhabited exclusively by normal humans and differs from Earth only in trifles so insignificant that ten Magisters Mundi could not find this difference in a thousand years. Or they could be so alien that just his appearance alone could elicit a response analogue to the awakening of L… that particular demon in relation to local customs.

Although, according to the normal-looking buildings that looked familiar enough, the probability of the latter being true was unlikely. Though, again, infinite possibilities means that he needs to be on his toes.

Shaking any remnant of horror of his head, Jonathan looked if there were anyone around him. Thankfully, as his previously casted magic has informed him, there was no one around nearby. It also told him that the old man was nowhere near him… if he even had made it to this world he didn't really know. The spell he had casted, magia, a rather crude and simple spell named according to the traditions of the Order, allowed him to check the presence of other people and especially mages. Sadly his impromptu pentacle and lack of materials, meant that while it is sufficient in checking for possible witnesses, is wholly unsuited in finding the old man.

Jonathan felt ennui at the prospect of losing the old man, then exhaled slowly and shook his head. Despondency... It was not the path he was willing to choose without ever trying to take a step along the path of action, especially not senseless self-pity.

The old man could have landed in this world, he definitely has the capability to do so, but he might have gotten tossed around by the quake that had passed through Umbra. So the possibility certainly exists that the old man has arrived in the same world as he did, simply not the same place as Jonathan did… Jonathan certainly would like to hope so. So, lacking any other present goal, Jonathan needed to find the old man. Or at the very least start a search for him.

However… Jonathan glanced around at the dirty alley around him, then logically concluded that his current location did not look like a good base where a worthy Adept should perform any rituals. In preparation of finding a good base of operation, and most likely interacting with the locals, Jonathan decided to take stock of what he is wearing.

Right now, he was wearing his robe - the same one he wore at his graduation. Under it - a shirt, tie, trousers, and in one of its inner pockets - glasses. Not that he needed them, but the glasses were great for performing some common spells, so Jonathan preferred not to neglect such a simple but effective method.

Nothing too compromising - although some people might look strangely at his mantle...

Although, in the Umbral world, they might look at him strangely if he did not wear a mantle - assuming that this world was inhabited by people, not anthropomorphic lizards, of course.

However, further contemplations were perhaps quite useless in regard to his lack of concrete information about the place. So he, with a sigh, slowly moved toward the exit of the dark alley - to look at the streets of the city he had found himself in - and its inhabitants.

The city, which unfolded itself before Jonathan's eyes, looked like a fairly normal city at a first glance. The noises that soon buffeted him next, was perhaps to be expected of a bustling city. It seemed the alley had muffled a lot of the noises, and the sunlight that soon almost seared Jonathan's poor tired eyes.

.

A fairly small city, as far as Jonathan himself could tell. The streets were divided into two parts by cobbled paths, with not a substantial amount of foot-traffic. The buildings enclosing the street looked like normal Houses, with shops and cafes with open summer veranda pockmarked in some pattern that Jonathan could not discern. Perhaps the only thing that distinguished this place from a normal city from Earth for Jonathan was the small number of cars parked along the edges of the roadway, and… the robots

Jonathan's gaze froze as he swept along the unique looking cars parked in the street.

Robots, two gray anthropomorphic robots moved slowly along the street, receiving only completely disinterested glances in response from passers-by. The robots, in complete unison, moved smoothly like trained soldiers along the road.

Jonathan barely stopped to let out a silent shriek as he literally leapt to the safety of the dark alley.

"Not Technocrats, not Technocrats!" Jonathan felt a lump rise in his throat. Holy fuck, in the name of the thrice glorified Tri-Hermes, please, let this not be the Umbral fortress of the Technocracy! Let it not be one of the thousands of Technocracy colonies, packed to capacity with magicians who have already set off on the trail of spatial disturbances caused by his appearance in the world! Thrice Greatest, please, not that!

Jonathan was beset by panic, literally stopping his breathing, and then rushed for the nearest trash can. As he puked his stomach contents out, so great was his panic that the possibility of using teleportation didn't even enter his mind. Not that it would help, not with technos!

As he heard the telltale sound of mechanical footsteps, Jonathan froze, only allowing himself to breathe in and out slowly. Silently, listening to the measured step of the moving robots heading towards him, Jonathan moved behind the trash can and crouched.

Step by step, the steps grew louder. As he cowered behind the trash can, Jonathan suppressed the instinctive desire to just throw the trash cans over the heads of the robots, and then run like hell in a random direction. With a great heave of control, with his heart continued to pound in his chest, Jonathan squished the panic as best he could.

The mechanical steps grew louder, louder, louder… and the siren song of casting teleportation, as useless as it would be, is getting stronger and stronger. Luckily before his heart could explode out of his chest, the footsteps bagan to subside.

Hearing the steps gradually begin to subside, moving away as calmly as they were approaching, he relaxed. Jonathan paused for a few seconds for any possible ambush, before slowly breathing out his held breath when a surprise laser to the face didn't materialize.

With the portent of approaching doom past, did he then realize that he was hiding behind trash cans that smelled of rotting trash. Jonathan quickly staggered to his feet.

Huh, huh... For whatever reason - the robots had passed Jonathan by without doing anything. Something that means that either he somehow managed to hide his magical actions very well, or that the robots themselves did not have the suitable visors to detect it. Of course, the most likely option, which was the most ideal of the options, was that they did not belong to those techno-maniacs in the first place. As much as he likes to tout his own skill, he was not arrogant enough to claim that an Adept like him could fool the likes of the Technocrats, in their homes no less.

Jonathan took another deep breath, before fully stretching to his full height. Whatever the outcome, he needed to get out of here, and the best thing for him to do for now was to change his clothes. If there were already robots in this world, it is unlikely that robes were in fashion in this world.

Pulling off his cloak, Jonathan turned to the nearest trash can, stretched out his hand… and was wrought with indecision, the cloak in his hands poised over the trash bin.

.

This was the mantle in which he had celebrated the completion of his studies. A robe that the old man had personally approved of. The mantle with which so many pleasant memories were associated with… the hand was immediately retracted.

Besides, he shouldn't be scattering his personal belongings and leaving them where they could be found. Who knows the limit of things a hostile magician could do with one of his treasured possessions.

So while he indeed needed to quickly change his clothes, he needed to find something to stash it in. A good bag or ideally, a shelter where he can lay low for a while. Now that he has taken off his cloak though, he started to feel a bit chilly… it seemed that he had another reason for his pressing need to find that shelter.

Plan in mind, he took a sharp step out into the street again, casting a wary glance at the robots passing by, and hurried forward, giving no reason for these possible creation of techno-terrorists to notice his appearance.

Jonathan's gaze quickly and meticulously studied the signs along the street, pleasantly surprised that they were written in English and not some Eldritch language that would rot his brain just by looking at it… like French for example. Jumping between the signs, he began to look for a place to procure some 'normal' clothing.

"Atlas War Point" Jonathan shrugged at the first clothing store he found, too pedestrian for his tastes and walked on, at least he has found where the clothing stores are. With a small jog, Jonathan began to peruse the various stores all the while trying not to break into a run so as not to attract too much attention.

"Seven Sevens", "White Swan", "Miss Adel Boutique"... Oh, that one sounds promising!

Jonathan quickly walked the few steps to the boutique, then slowed down a bit as he walked inside, giving his appearance a double check at the mirror, and took a step inside.

The building's interior, by the standards of Jonathan himself, looked suitable for a clothing store that could cater to his tastes. The several mannequins draped in slightly extravagant, but in Jonathan's own opinion, stylish clothes made his venture worthwhile. And, importantly, visitors that he could compare the world's style of dress to.

Seeing a young girl standing next to the cash register, Jonathan released a breath that he wasn't aware he was holding. The girl was not wearing a gray overalls, the chosen dress code of the Technocrats. Those Heretics required all its members to be as 'efficient' as they are and effectively lose all their taste in clothing. And those control freaks would never allow anyone to skirt their dress code, so she most likely did not belong to the Technocrats. Those bastards would be the type to control everyone's clothing, so that means that the situation was not completely lost, yet.

Jonathan then tensed the moment one of the visitors, a young man dressed in ordinary casual clothes in the form of a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, held out a small purple-pink rectangle to the cashier.

"Money." Jonathan grumbled. "Of course, money."

If Jonathan had patted his pockets - he could have found, perhaps, a crumpled five pounds in one of his many pockets. But apparently, in this Umbral world, British crown money was not in use. Jonathan silently swore at the realization that he had no money.

Slowly, he closed his eyes, it seemed that he had to do something a bit drastic.

It was bad to steal. It was one of those simple lessons that parents give their children when they were three or four years old. Or again and again if their children have a certain predilection for kleptomania. And while his birth parents were not long in this world, they certainly imparted that lesson to young impressionable Jonathan's head. It was bad to steal. Very very bad.

However, 'bad' and 'wrong' actions did not mean that the action itself should never be performed. Yes, stealing was a very bad thing and… well it's not like he has any other options

Slowly, Jonathan rubbed a hand on his head. He'll just take... A small amount of money, and he'll give it back later. He'll remember this shop, so that later he can return everything he's taken, with interest.

Jonathan sighed, then closed his eyes. He'll need a bit of concentration to do this flawlessly. Bad enough he has to steal no need to also check what being found out casting magic does to him in this Umbral World.

With a small wave of his will he casted. Ars Conligationis, art of Aer, deed of Movement. Finding the process much harder than he expected, Jonathan stopped. He needed another part to cast it without revealing himself.

For a more primitive explanation of the spell, it is akin to teleportation. Jonathan just needed to teleport several different small squares, which, apparently, represented money in this world, into his pocket.

This sounded not very difficult in theory - although impossible for the average person convinced that teleportation itself was impossible - but not so easy.

Using only Will, Quinta Essentia, he could replace some of the missing parts of the spell, but to replace all parts at once… to cast a spell without any rituals is sadly a bit far off for someone with Jonathan's capabilities.

But, it's not like he's out of luck, he just needed to use the other most essential part of being a Magician, imagination. Now, what action can make money move from the cash register to his pocket?

Jonathan smiled as an idea popped up in his head. Plan in mind, Jonathan approached the cashier that was currently busy doing something with the cash register. She was facing downwards, perfect for his plans.

Of course, a store robbery!

***

"This is a robbery." The calm voice sounded like thunder in the ears of the unfortunate girl, like a bolt from the blue. "Give me the money and no one will suffer."

The unfortunate girl froze, panic and bile both began to rise.

She was hired to this just three days ago… And now the store is being robbed!? She thought that Atlas doesn't do that! This is not why she moved here from Mantle, to face robberies in the middle of the city again!

The girl took a deep shuddering breath, feeling her hands grow cold and clammy. What is she going to do!?

Give away the money? She might as well say goodbye to her work! No, worse than that, Miss Adel will definitely find a way to claim compensation from her thanks to her staff of lawyers, and after a short and decisive trial, Lily will have to work for her until the end of the century! Free of charge and in the worst conditions imaginable!

Or, as an option, do not give the money, and get a bullet in the forehead for all her troubles.

Lily swallowed a nervous laugh, and then slowly, without making any sudden movements, looked up... Only, rather than seeing a barrel of a gun pointed straight at her face, she rested her eyes on a finger pointing at her, folded in a crude mimicry of a pistol, like the ones children do.

"Ha-ha, I beg your pardon." The voice, previously sounding monotone and threatening, now changed to a somewhat light and jovial mood. The finger gun, now removed from her face,allowed her to catch up to what was just said.

"Just my stupid sense of humor."

Lily froze for a second, slowly understanding what was said, before her inner anger flared.

What idiot dared to do some stupid prank like that!?

Looking up sharply, Lily stared at the face of the idiot. He looked like a young teenage boy, five or ten years younger than Lily herself! Dressed in a white shirt and black trousers, with a little tousled black hair just below his shoulders pulled into a ponytail behind his back, his gray eyes and a slightly guilty smile, with which he seemed to be trying to apologize for his bad joke was quite fetching.

On the whole, the guy looked quite handsome, an impression that was seriously tainted by his bad sense of humor.

"Young man..." Calling all her polite rage to display her grievances with the young man, Lily said clearly, with a little bit of heat in her voice. "Be happy that I don't have the time to bother with the police!"

"Yes, I do apologize, it seems my joke had gone a little bit out of hand." The guy lightly explained, then bowed. "I truly apologize for my horrid behaviour. Do take this as a token of my sincere regret."

A second later, the guy rummaged through his pockets and handed her... Five hundred lien?

Lily blinked several times, to make sure that the panic hadnt made her delusional. No, her eyes weren't mistaken, five hundred lien at once...

Ha… well for that amount of money, she could excuse some bad humor. Besides a guy rich enough to hand that amount of lien as an apology, would be loaded enough to buy a lot of things. Who knows maybe she can guilt him into it a bit?

"Alright I accept the apology. But you better stop with that crude joke, mister! Some people may not like it and could react more extremely." Lily instantly became kinder, also becoming richer by five hundred lien. Something which definitely helped her mood.

"By the way, can I help you with something? Maybe some shirts, or trousers? It's all the newest collection, made with the support of the Schnee Corporation itself!" With that ordeal over with, Lily immediately switched to sales mode.

"Oh, that's great! I was looking to buy some of those." The guy was a little surprised by her exuberance but quickly nodded.

"Yes, of course. I need a pair of shirts, a pair of trousers, a nice raincoat, and a bag… preferably somewhat large-ish." The customer then began to list out his shopping list, making Lily really happy about the sales she's about to make.

"Of course, this very second!" Lily instantly melted. For five hundred lien and the large order, she could forgive him for such a joke without any problems!

***

An hour later, Jonathan came out of the boutique holding a decent sports bag, practically empty except for a couple sets of clothes. He was now wearing the black raincoat he just bought and covering his head and, partially, his face with a felt hat.

He was now poorer by two and a half thousand lien. However, given that he entered the store without the local analogue of money, called lien, at all, was it worth saying that he left the store richer by another five thousand lien instead?

Jonathan exhaled, then looked around him. With the sales clerk being understandable happy with his large purchase, Jonathan was able to learn some facts about the world that he found himself in with some small talks as he was fitted in for his clothes. Especially about the city he's in. Good news, it's not a Technocrat controlled city. Bad news, it might as well be.

In this world, as well as in this city called Atlas, at the moment it was two pm, the eighth of August, in the year one thousand seven hundred and thirty-two years from the discovery of Dust or the sixty-fifth year from the end of the Great War…

Jonathan smiled, at least the Nazis didn't win the Great War here!

He inquired as much information from the girl as he could, but it was difficult to ask questions about the specifics of this world without looking like a suspicious idiot. Of course, his apparently more than generous 'donations', might persuade the girl into not asking him unnecessary questions. But, if there was indeed someone that could find traces of his existence here, then it was best for Jonathan not to leave another, unnecessary information about himself.

Information, like the fact that he absolutely did not understand this Umbral world.

In addition, he was really quite embarrassed. After all, he had robbed the store for five and a half thousand lien! Even if this is roughly translated by the price of the things he purchased, equating one lien to a pound - five and a half thousand pounds was a normal monthly salary for a doctor or businessman!

Jonathan could only hope that when the owner of this boutique discovered the lack of money in the till, she would be merciful to the unfortunate clerk, which had helped him pick up an outfit.

Although, at the same time, Jonathan could pat himself on the back. Use the hermetic principle of similarity to get the desired result… His rank of Adept was indeed not mistaken!

Indeed, the robbery did indeed really take place, in a certain point of view. His actions were equal to the actions of the robber, the fear the saleswoman felt was equal to the fear of the robbed, his intentions and the most physical act corresponded to what the robbers were doing, so for a few seconds he actually did commit an act of robbery… If only a pantomime of one.

The stage set, all he had to do was use his Will to extrapolate what would happen and deposited the result of the robbery into his pockets. It is as if looking at the beginning of a scene and saying 'yes, we know how it all ends, so let's skip the further steps' and fast forwarding to the conclusion. In the end exactly fifteen cards, each the size of a bank card, ended up in Jonathan's pocket, seven and a half thousand lien. Two thousand of which he spent on clothes, and another five hundred he gave to the girl as an apology…

Jonathan felt like a bastard, considering that the thievery would be discovered soon enough, and with only one possible perpetrator… But there was no other choice. Either he stabbed the back of a defenseless girl, or risked ending up on a vivisector's table.

Jonathan really didn't want to be on the vivisector table.

Pulling on his cloak to calm himself down from the first really serious crime he committed in his life, Jonathan moved on. More than peeping at the dressing girls in the dressing room next door, he had committed grand larceny. A crime that an innocent girl will now be accused of. Jonathan shook his head.

Ha, all his life he was taught to do good and help people, but now...

"Okay, pity party over." Jonathan tugged at his cloak again, and then hurried forward before passers-by could start asking questions. Despite it being the 8th of August - it was still cool enough in the city, so his cloak came in handy to staff off hypothermia. But a place to live would be necessary if he wants to survive the night… Why is this damn place so cold anyway?

"Now… We need to find a place to live." Jonathan wasn't planning on living in the streets and started stealing food to survive after all!

Even if he didn't get the money in the most legal of ways, he had some money that he could use. Therefore, for now Jonathan could settle for a motel... Or rather, a hotel - if he didn't want to draw attention to his somewhat expensive clothes. The appearance of a well-groomed unknown person in a low-class shelter could be perceived by the local inhabitants... in different ways, not all of which were positive.

And, unfortunately, now there was no one behind him who could provide him with cover in case of possible asocial elements… Jonathan sighed, then looked around him.

So he needed a decent place… Looking around again to check that none of the local robots or technos had yet deigned to chase him after his act of magic. Seeing none so far, Jonathan exhaled, and then headed forward, looking around for a decent hotel.

***

A couple of hours later, when the Sun - or its local analogue anyway - had already begun to slowly decline, Jonathan's wanderings ended. From afar he could see a building reminiscent of a decent hotel on Earth. When he got closer, he could better appreciate the somewhat opulent looking building. Good, he had found a place to stay.

Approaching the large glass doors, Jonathan took a step inside, then looked at the insides of the hotel.

The place looked like a mid-range hotel, not a multimillion-dollar a night monster, but rather a family business. From outside the five floored building looked good enough, with the inside matching that expectations.

As he looked at the ground floor, it seemed that the rooms started from the second floor, as the ground floor is occupied by the lobby and some kind of food court in the center.

Walking on the carpeted floor, and through the food court, Jonathan headed straight to the receptionist. As he rang the bell, conspicuously placed on the desk next to a sign that says 'We do not serve faunus', he then found himself face to face with a woman who looked no older than forty years old. The lady with austere features already marked by several deep wrinkles, dressed in clothes that would fit a British housewife, hair the color of faded hay tied up in a ponytail to the shoulder blades, seeing Jonathan, she instantly smiled.

'Faunus? Who are the faunus?' Jonathan tried to recall any scrap of information pertaining to the word, finding nothing, except information about the Greek gods. 'Okay, let's hope I'm not a faunus then.'

Actually now that he's thinking about it, he saw something similar in the clothing store. And the clerk didn't refuse his lien, so whatever this 'faunus' thing is, he's probably isn't one. Okay, it doesn't matter now, game face on Jonathan.

"Good afternoon, can I help you with something?" The receptionist politely inquired.

"Yes, I would like to rent a room, please." Jonathan smiled a polite smile, something that works most times in mollifying suspicions.

"Of course." The woman nodded to him. "Can you please show me your ID?"

Jonathan froze and swore in his mind. 'Cunt.' Ha… How could he forget something so simple?

Unfortunately, Jonathan definitely couldn't solve this problem the same way he solved his money problem. Even if he could steal other people's ID, the mismatch of ID's photo and his real appearance, would put an immediate end to his attempt to impersonate the real owner.

Jonathan felt vulnerable for a second before mustering himself and braking himself with all his strength to smile at the woman behind the counter. "I'm sorry, but my luggage was accidentally lost during my trip here." A half- truth, the best kind of lie.

"I see… I'm so.." The woman's eyes immediately went cold and Jonathan after another moment made a desperate attempt to salvage the situation.

"To assuage your fears, I'm ready to leave a deposit until I can find my luggage." Jonathan smiled. "Would three thousand lien suffice?"

After another moment of silence, the woman's face smoothed out a little, forcing Jonathan to release a sigh of relief internally. "Hmm... Three thousand lien is a significant amount, however…" Tch, it seemed she needed another push.

"Also I would like to immediately rent a room for two weeks. Naturally, with payment upfront for the fact that you agreed to help me in my desperate position." Feeling his fate hanging in the balance, Jonathan threw out his last trump card, spending about a thousand lien based on the rates the hotel charged a night. Well, he could always 'procure' more money he suppose.

"Hmm, I suppose it is the kindness to each other that distinguishes us from those animals." The woman acquiesce with one last insult to 'animals' for some reason?

As you would expect, when almost four thousand pounds - or lien - were involved - the woman easily yielded to Jonathan. Not forgetting, however, to deliver one last warning at the end.

"However, keep in mind that I will not be able to let you leave the hotel if you do not show me your documents." She said with faux seriousness.

'So be prepared to pay me for silence.' Jonathan deciphered the unspoken threat, but without the ability to refuse he just shook his head.

"Of course. I also do hope that my luggage will be found quickly." Jonathan smiled conspiratorially.

"In that case, if you have no objections, then here's your key. Room number two hundred twenty-six, our… Personnel were supposed to finish cleaning it." The woman instantly became kinder. "What name should I note down?"

"Jonathan, Jonathan Goodman."

"Interesting name, Mr. Goodman," The woman nodded knowingly, making Jonathan curse inwardly. It seems that in this world, or at least this city, such names were not in use.

"Okay, Mr. Goodman, here is your key." Well the woman definitely thinks it's a fake name.

A moment later, the key was in Jonathan's hand. Sending a last smile at the woman, Jonathan headed to his room. Sighing at the close call, he shook his head before going upstairs.

Once on the second floor gallery, some noise downstairs attracted his attention. As he looked down, he spotted a man, about thirty or forty years old... With a weapon?!

Jonathan froze, watching the pair of large mace hanging from the back of the man in plain sight. And it seemed that the woman behind the counter didn't care!?

'What is this, American heaven?!' Jonathan looked at the weapon the man carried in full view of everyone. And then watched, as the woman on the counter countenance beamed, looking at the approaching man. 'Oh, Triple Thriced… Ok I can see someone carrying some sort of weapon being okay, but why does he have two mace in open view when robots are walking down the street ?!'

However, the woman, seemingly not paying any attention to the fact that the man had a weapon, instantly broke into a smile, forcing Jonathan to shake his head and hurry away.

He didn't want to appear strange in this world and attract unwanted attention, at least not now.

A moment later, having reached his room, he opened the door, finding himself inside a decent room. The room was furnished with a good double bed, television - and, as Jonathan reeled with surprise, a terribly advanced television... Is that an LCD display?! Shit first the robots and now this, the Technocrats influence is unmistakable.

Jonathan was so surprised that he did not see the girl who appeared from the passageway next to his room. Although, to be honest, the girl, not older than ten, with her short stature, could not be seen at all behind the huge bucket that she was carrying in her hands.

A moment later, as expected the girl crashed into Jonathan, who was too shocked to enter his room. As he received an unexpected hit, making not the most courageous sound, he fell to the ground. The girl, unable to keep her balance from the impact, fell to the ground, quickly followed by the bucket of dirty water she was holding. The content of which doused Jonathan's completely new outfit with water, making him choke with indignation.

Moving his gaze, he, in the end, was able to see the source of his impromptu bath. The girl in front of him was, first of all, a girl, not older than ten years old. Secondly, her short hair, pulled together by a pair of rubber bands on the top of her head and her white, soiled, and in some places already torn clothes, created the look of a real downtrodden servant - which was very discordant with her youthful appearance.

And the third important fact was her yellow eyes, which is currently looking at Jonathan with real horror.

Jonathan was frozen for a second by the little child's emotive eyes, before realizing that as an adult, at least the most mature person present, he needed to take the first step. "Are you hurt-?" Only to be cut off by a childish shriek.

"PLEASE DO NOT TELL MISS SUNNY!!" The girl literally jumped up from her seat, before realizing that she had interrupted him. She looked at Jonathan with even more horror in her eyes, "DON'T TELL MISS…"

"Hush, hush, calm down." Jonathan raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture, - "I was just surprised is all… "

"W... Well…" The girl said slowly with broken syllables, before slowly nodding, - "I... I have to run!"

"What, wait!" Jonathan shouted to stop the girl from running away. "I'm not angry, everything is fine, I won't tell anyone or anything... And first of all, what is your name, little girl?"

"C... Cinder." The girl, looking at Jonathan with no little amount of trepidation, slowly nodded. "Y-you sure won't tell Miss Sunny?" It seems she is still wary of Jonathan.

"Of course not…" - Jonathan began to speak before a clever thought entered his mind, forcing him to nod slowly. "However, for this... Maybe you can tell me a little about this city, Cinder?" Truly his brilliance astounded even him sometimes.