My obligation is not to the store... --5.2 Seconds Post-Integration.

  Clark forced himself from the elevator. He felt like he had on the Religious Day when he didn't want to get up hours early for some ceremony. If the heft under his eyes was anything to go by, he was crashing -- hard.

  "What's this bloody place?" Theo said, his tongue clicking.

  The tube door opened to reveal a long hallway flanked on both sides by a series of evenly spaced doors. Every single door was wide open.

  At the end of the hallway was a television screen displaying relevant information about where they were and what the situation was: the screen read: "Incident on Executive Suit: Underway: Errors 404 Discovered (AKA, 'dormitory regeneration)."

  As if to hammer the point home, their Systems displayed, then, a similar message.

  "It seems we'll be here for some time," Hera said. "So, let's use the fact that we are still on the clock to our full advantage, and rest, so that we might fight for Sire Augustford's legacy like True Workers." Clark couldn't tell if her words were sarcastic. He nodded lifelessly and followed her into one of the open doors.

  The room was nothing special. A solitary table with dusty magazines consumed most of the floor space, forcing newcomers to the side and into one of the utilitarian standing-seats which lined the room. Slim windows populated the side of the room upon entering from the hallway. At Clark's height -- six feet -- he could just peer over the windowpane. Outside, in perfect daylight, the vast concrete of the parking lot. He grabbed the window handle and turned it to the left to open the window. A spring breeze wafted inside the room, instantly cleaning the sterile space of its lifeless sense.

  Clark pushed his face against the mesh-screen and deeply inhaled. Vibrations spread over his skin causing goosebump-pricks. His head felt slightly feather-y. He exhaled... He hadn't taken notice of the cart attendant when a voice shouted, "Holy-on-a-moley -- it's an actual person!"

  Focusing his eyes, Clark sought where the voice came from. Sleek sunshine ribbed the concrete creating a semi-impermeable blindness he could only break through by focusing his visual effort. After minutes of trying, the source of the voice came into focus. An older man with rippling muscles underneath his yellow safety vest.

  "Oh? Are you speaking to me, sir?" Clark called back.

  "Yeah, I am!" the man said now running toward Clark's window. "Bro. I have never seen anyone in any of these tiny windows. And I've worked this lot, here, for well over thirty years! I thought those rooms was, like, a ghost wing or something. What are you doing in there?"

  How was he to reply? He had just bore witness to some terrifying, otherworldly terror attack and yet the man before either did not know of what transpired higher in the tower or he did not care. "Y-yeah, I and my fellow New Hires are waiting for our dorms. Our Orientation was cut short by..." he slowed his speech, not knowing how to phrase the event he had survived.

  "The scuffle? I heard! You must be Lifers, then? Only Lifers train up in the fancy lounge. To think, you were caught in that? Lucky beans you lived. These monsters... something needs to be done about them. Oh! Before you get back to work, can I take a picture with ya?"

  Seeing no reason to say no, Clark said, "S-sure?"

  The man kneeled down and took out a small rectangle. He hit the rectangle a few times then brought the device away from him, seemingly pointing the device at the sky. A chirping sound. The man said, "Thanks, man! Now my friends will have to believe me!"

  Leaving as suddenly as he came, Clark lowered himself into one of the standing seats, ignoring the sounds of the outside. He let himself rest against the wall. These seats had an insidious design behind them. How, if he sat in them for fifteen minutes or more, an unbearable pain would form in his body, forcing him to stand. Yet he did not care. Not this time. He had to rest, he had to --

  Pain. He jumped up.

  He had almost fallen asleep.

  He stretched his legs and paced the room. Then paced the hallway.

  When his body healed from the first sitting, he again sat down, this time, just legs akimbo on the floor.

  Much better, he cooed once his flesh contacted the cooling tile ground.

  Calmed a degree, his tension gave way; he cooled from the terror a couple of hours before.

  He breathed in and out, with measured breath; repeatedly: then, before he could continue his meditative practice, the System's notifications came back to him.

  It returned to his mind, how he dismissed them in the heat of the moment. Now, they floated in the periphery of his vision like soul whisps. He motioned with two fingers for the notifications to come to him.

  [You have reached Level 3 -- Congratulations!]

  [You have acquired An Opportunity Box -- Total: 2]

  [You have reached Level 4 -- Congratulations!]

  [You have defeated Hideous Gloop, Lv. 5 x (20)]

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  [You have reached Level 5 -- Congratulations!]

  [You have acquired an Opportunity Box -- Total: 3]

  Seeing the notifications, one after the other, sent through Clark a calming wave. His brain felt fuzzy. Like the magic inside his head was being conducted by surfing wizards.

  How do I open the box? Clark wondered. Just by thinking it? "Open box," he mouthed.

  "Opening Opportunity Box (1)," SIMP chirped.

  A treasure chest filled part of his blue box. Its construction was of humble wood. By the will of his mental might -- so as much as his sixteen-year-old mind could be called mighty -- the chest flopped opened as if discovered by a pirate, revealing to him a tiny golden medal: [+10 Judgement Points].

  Ah: judgement points,' he thought. I remember you. I can use you to reinforce my flagging Core Metrics.

  "Open next box," Clark commanded.

  A new treasure chest replaced the old. This chest was wood, like its contemporary. Its latch flew open. An icon flew up: that of a patch of golden leaves: [+5 XP Bonus!].

  Wicked! He waved his third and final Opportunity Box open.

  This time, the chest that appeared inside the blue box was of a wooden make but had a distinct silver finish. A higher-tied box? My guides prior to employment said nothing about multi-tiered Loot payouts. That wasn't surprising, he reasoned. Unofficial 'Augustford Conduct and Strategy Guides' filled most community centers outside of the massive structure called Augustford Central. Such guides promised desperate yet hopeful people the means to navigate the corporate bureaucracy and start their careers with a boost -- a boost which would (supposedly) make them dividends above what the average hire might accrue by 'grinding the system' on whims and fancies. These third-party agencies were an iffy lot, to say the least. Clark, of course, bought more than one such guide from sellers over the years while he debated on how he wanted to live his life. It seemed, now, much about the guides was false, based on what he had so far seen, that is.

  His attention returned to the silver box, it opened to reveal not one, not two, but three rewards!

  One of the icons which popped-up from the chest recognized -- the tiny gold medal indicative of Judgement Points. He gained an additional ten Judgement Points, bringing his total to twenty.

  The other two rewards and their icons he did not recognize. He focused his attention on the new rewards:

  [+5 Coupon(s)], the System notified. An image of a golden ticket represented the coupon's likeness.

  "SIMP? What's a Coupon? I am guessing a discount on store items?"

  "Correct, young-un: Augustford Store Coupons behave exactly as you expect -- a straight credit discount per one transaction. Restrictions apply."

  He focused on the third item: its picture was of a golden scepter, like that which a king commanded: [+1 Promotion Point].

  Clark's eyes widened just a bit -- was he, no, it couldn't be -- a point didn't mean he had been promoted, did it?

  "SIMP?" he called again. "What's a Promotion Point? Did I just get promoted?"

  The System chuckled: its gruff, manly Augustford voice chided him, "No. Of course, not... it only means you have gained one point toward a promotion. You need an additional 19 {Nineteen} Promotion Points before you are promoted."

  Too good to be true! His adrenaline took no prisoners, brain-stuff included! Pushing aside the silly conclusion he jumped on because of his exhaustion, there was nothing more he wanted right now than to fall on a bed and rest deeply. He yawned, whether it was to himself or out loud he didn't care. "Good to have the ins and outs about the Promotion Points. Thanks, SIMP."

  The AI made no acknowledgement of his thanks. Moving on...

  Clark saw more notification appear on his screen. Before he could investigate, Hera asked if he was 'opening his hard-won loot.'

  "You mean the Opportunity Boxes? Yeah. I got a silver chest!" he said, happily, but without much enthusiasm. His eyelids were like church pendulums, swinging back and forth, heavier with each passing second...

  "That's nice! I hear there's all sorts of different boxes. People have apparently won whole fortunes from these chests. Some people become addicted to earning the boxes. Or so I've heard!"

  "Earn anything good?" Clark asked back.

  "Basic stuff," Hera replied.

  Theo was asleep. Or next to asleep as he leaned awkwardly against the wall, trying to appear both ready to work as well as ready to rest.

  Can't blame the guy, was all Clark had to spare.

  Returned to his blue box, Clark listlessly looked at the ceiling, trying not to fall asleep. He brought on the notifications again -- some of them looked from much earlier but for reasons likely related to the brief outage in the atrium chaos, said notifications were only now catching up and presenting themselves to him:

  [Accomplishment Completed: "Cleansing Pupil," Cleanse five Corruptions]

  [Accomplishment Completed: "Pimple Popper," Destroy five Monsters or Corruptions at once]

  Looking at the notifications, Clark discovered if he willed focus upon one notification in particular, he received more information about it. Though after looking at the finer details for both 'accomplishments,' the information appeared as nothing more than sarcastic jibes.

  His Cleansing Pupil accomplishment, for example, read: 'So you've proved you don't die easy, so amazing, you wanna fight about it?' His Pimple Popper accomplishment read, 'Overpowered, much? Was destroying five monsters at once really necessary?'

  [Accomplishment Completed: "Store Walker," Walk at least five miles in-store]

  'Whoa. You can walk. Incredible...' was all the description revealed: another notification popped up:

  [Accomplishment Completed: "Welcome to the System," Install the Augustford System Link System]

  'A true champion of our brand!' He did not know what that meant. The System came from the store and did not have competition. If it was a joke, he didn't get it, but he wanted to?

  [Beginners' Accomplishment Suite: 4/8 Unlocked]

  Before he had time to reflect on his many 'accomplishments,' the System took him right into another notification: [Accomplishment Completed: "Lifer," Take the dive and sign the contract].

  It was impossible for him not to look at the meta-text for this Accomplishment. It read, 'Now you are family.'

  They considered him family. Surely not, he thought. They knew nothing about him. The store was not there when he was a babe and scraped his knee -- his caretakers, his mother and father, were there for him, though. They bandaged him up and with a kiss sent him on his way.

  When Clark reflected on it, he had to admit, he recalled his caretakers always using Augustford-brand bandages, despite their relative extravagance while on the wastes. Maybe, they had a point, then? Assuming that was what they were trying to say, that they wanted him to treat them, the store, as he would the village elder...

  It was too much. He was overthinking. He was tired. He needed to sleep...

  [Unique Accomplishment Suite: 1/?]

  It was too much to hope the System would be forthcoming with the number of unique accomplishments. Though he hoped the System would change its mind about keeping the accomplishments hidden... for now, he could only wonder what such rare accomplishments amounted to.

  [Accomplishment Reward: Opportunity Boxes (x3) Acquired]

  If he was less wiped, he would have opened the newly acquired loot boxes. Alas, he had hit his limit and just did not care. He resolved he would open them later.

  Getting up to stretch his legs, he thought the System had yet another accomplishment notification for him when he heard the chime. It was actually something much better. "Attention: your living accommodation is now ready. Please report to nearest transplant tube."

  Loot Crates at Work for Working?