The blade hovered just off my chest. Not quite touching. But the air between us felt carved—like it had already made the cut.
"You'll tell me," she said.
"Tell you what?"
"How you got your Job Title."
I didn't flinch. Couldn't afford to. Instead, I met her eyes—mismatched, scar-split, watching not just me but the cracks in everything I stood for.
"I don't know," I said.
The fire popped again, spitting heat. She didn't blink.
"I'm serious. I didn't earn it. Didn't inherit it. Didn't steal it. The night it happened…" I paused, the words grinding against old stone. "I tried to kill myself."
The wind pulled through the trees like it wanted to hush me, but I kept going.
"I'd just had a really, really bad day. All I had was a D-Rank Laborer title. No skills. No opportunities. Nothing. I can promise you that."
A breath.
"I looked over the bridge, stood in the dark and then I got the notification."
