As they approached Tower 7c, Auron's gaze locked on the familiar group of Catch22 enforcers stationed near the front entrance. Auron muttered, "Do these guys have nothing better to do? Why not just wait inside the lobby?"

  Scribblez shook her head, her expression darkening. "I'll explain once we're inside."

  They slipped around to a side entrance, careful to avoid drawing attention. Once inside the lobby, Scribblez paused, glancing back at the front doors as if expecting the enforcers to materialize.

  "They can't just walk into any building they want," she said. "In the InfiNet, entering a defended zone like a residence or guild hall shifts you to a different plane of reality. Instead of ending up in a normal lobby, they might end up in a maze of doorways leading to floors with unique defenses. And just like gateways, once you're inside, you're stuck until you either win or lose."

  Auron frowned, the explanation sparking a memory. "But Marcus was able to get to Floor 13. How does that work?"

  Scribblez's orb tilted as she met his gaze, her tone grim. "Floors without active defenses can be entered freely," she explained. "That's why Catch22 moves so easily. Most players can't afford defenses for their floors, and the ones who can usually prioritize vaults or guild halls. Residential floors like ours? They're soft targets."

  "So, what are defenses exactly?" Auron asked.

  Leaning against the wall, Scribblez crossed her arms. Her orb bobbed from side to side as if it were thinking. "Defenses are kind of like gateways, but weirder. They're rated on something called the Ahrilok Index." She gave a small shrug. "No one really knows why it's called that, so don't ask. Anyway, the index has two layers: Sensory Descriptors and Narrative Themes."

  Auron tilted his head, curiosity threading through his unease. "How does it work?"

  "The Sensory Descriptors range from Gentle to Overwhelming," she explained. "Gentle's the least intense, and overwhelming's the toughest. Then there are Narrative Themes, which go from Story to Legend. So, a 'Gentle Story' is about as easy as it gets, while a 'Gentle Legend' is the hardest of that level."

  "So the index basically tells you how tough and complicated the defenses will be?" Auron asked. He wondered what an overwhelming legend would look like.

  "Exactly," Scribblez replied. "Take Mr. Dalton's defense. It's probably rated around Gentle-Adventure or Gentle-Conflict. Nothing custom, just the best he could get his hands on. Even at that level, it took Catch22 a long time to break through. They had to gather intel and adjust their strategies."

  "Scouts," Auron grimaced.

  "Yeah," Scribblez said. "They'd send in scouts to map the defenses, then bring in the enforcers with detailed instructions. That's how they broke through."

  Auron nodded slowly, the weight of her words settling heavily on him. "So, how do we get a defense for our floor?"

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  Scribblez moved to the elevator, pressing the call button. Her brow furrowed as she answered. "First, someone can give you one. Some players hoard defenses, but you can only stack so many, depending on what you're guarding."

  The elevator chimed, and they stepped inside. When the doors slid shut, she continued. "The second way is to buy one. But defenses aren't cheap, and most people can only afford the lower-level ones. No one parts with anything good. It's like giving away your best shield."

  Auron nodded. If he had a good defense, he would probably keep it, too. "And the last option?"

  Scribblez shrugged, her orb dipped slightly as if tired. "The last way is to find one yourself in the InfiNet. It's rare, though. There are stories of people stumbling on unique defenses while exploring, but it's mostly speculation. Some say it's about uncovering hidden places or completing specific tasks. No one really knows for sure."

  The elevator chimed, and the doors slid open to their floor. Auron and Scribblez stepped into the red light of floor 13. The calm here felt dissonant after the chaos and color of the InfiNet's lower layers.

  Scribblez slowed her pace. She glanced at Auron, her tone just above a whisper. "Look, Auron, we're about to dive into something serious. Gateways aren't just unpredictable. They're dangerous. Even if we make it through, there's no telling what we'll face or what it could cost us." She held his gaze. "The InfiNet's incredible, but it can turn on you fast. You've got to be ready for anything."

  Auron adjusted his hood. "I will," he said. His voice came out steadier than he felt. "Thanks, Scribblez."

  Her lips curved faintly. She gestured toward her door, the light from her orb casting faint halos on the floor. "I think I'll call it a night. Got plenty to think about before tomorrow."

  As they reached their respective doors, Auron paused, letting his fingers brush the handle. "Hey, Scribblez," he called.

  She turned, her brow arching. "Yeah?"

  He hesitated, shifting his weight. "I was just wondering… what's your real name? I mean, if we're going to be working together, it might be nice to know. Plus, you know… neighbors."

  For a moment, Scribblez didn't answer. Her orb tilted slightly as if reflecting her thoughts. When she finally spoke, her smile returned, small and edged with something unreadable. "You can call me Scribblez," she said lightly, though her tone left little room for argument. "That's who I am in the InfiNet. Besides, a little mystery makes things interesting, don't you think?"

  Auron chuckled, the sound more reflexive than amused. "Yeah, I guess so. Well, I'm Riley. Just so you know."

  Her smile shifted, warming as genuine kindness crept into her expression. "Nice to meet you, Riley," she said. Her voice lightened, losing some of the earlier tension. She turned the handle on her door. "Goodnight."

  "Goodnight, Scribblez," he replied, watching as she slipped inside. The faint glow of her orb lingered a moment longer before the door latched behind her.

  Auron stood in the hallway, staring after her. The quiet pressed down like a weight, heavier now than it had felt in the elevator. Finally, with a quiet breath, he stepped into his own apartment.

  Inside, the silence deepened. Auron sat on the edge of his digital bed. He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the blank ceiling above. The day's events churned in his mind—defenses, gateways, Catch22. The enormity of it all loomed large, but there was something else, too. Auron pictured Scribblez, Vox, and Clio for a moment. For the first time, he didn't feel entirely alone in this.

  After a long pause, he exhaled and activated the log-off sequence. The room dimmed as his avatar flickered out of existence, replaced by the familiar pull of reality.

  The pod's lid hissed open, and the cool air brushed his face. Auron rubbed his eyes, the exhaustion he'd ignored now seeping into every muscle. The pod's interior light cast faint, hazy shadows on the dark walls of his room. He lay back, letting the ache in his body subside as his thoughts drifted.

  The challenges ahead felt monumental, but he wasn't facing them alone. Scribblez, Clio, and Vox—all wild cards in their own way—offered a sliver of hope in a sea of uncertainty. He clung to that as he closed his eyes, the day's weight ebbing away.

  For now, he let himself rest.