The bell screeched through the orbital station like rusted metal tearing apart. Not divine, not sacred—just the sound of bureaucracy reminding us we were employees, not free agents.
I checked my shard-counter. Twenty-three orbital diamond shards. Barely enough for rations, let alone sharpening my blade. And yet the Governor still insisted we waste energy "managing humans."
I stepped into the assignment hall. Venomous Airs was already draped against a crystal pillar, wings spread like he was performing for an audience that didn't exist.
"Finally," he said with a smirk. "The Queen of Complaints herself."
"Shut it," I muttered. "How many shards did they dock you for incompetence last cycle?"
His grin faltered. "Two."
I bared my teeth. "Thought so."
The announcement boards flickered to life. Glowing names and project codes rippled across the air. My gut sank when mine appeared:
PROJECT F20
Assigned Demon: Katasra Luna
Human Sector: Southern Ashmark Contingent
F20. The trash pile of assignments. Nothing but clueless flesh-bags who thought scratching in the dirt counted as skill.
Governor's drones buzzed in, handing out assignment scrolls. I snatched mine and ripped it open.
Human Candidate: Taren Vey
Age: 23
Occupation: Farmer. Occasionally swings a sword.
I laughed so hard a drone twitched beside me. A farmer. Perfect. The Governor had officially run out of options. A dirt-slinger who probably thought an axe was a shovel with ambitions.
"Unworthy thing," I muttered, crumpling the scroll. "Bet he cries before I finish my first drink."
Then the hall lights shifted, flooding every demon in a harsh blood-red glow. The master screen blared a warning:
SYSTEM INTERRUPTION. RULE CODE ALTERED.
NOTICE: HUMAN LOYALTY PARAMETERS COMPROMISED.
The room fell silent. Even Endivel Xi, who never twitched at anything, tightened his jaw.
The Governor's voice came through the intercom, calm but strained. "Demons. Reports confirm interference from Jinsen Ayawoo. Maintain control of your assignments. Choose your humans wisely. You may require more than insults to keep them alive."
Venomous Airs leaned close, voice dripping with mockery. "Looks like your pig farmer might be more than slop. If he survives."
I curled my claws. Orders were orders. And shards didn't pay themselves.
"Fine," I muttered, shoving the scroll into my satchel. "Let's go meet the idiot."