Theo starts an uncut stream instead of accepting Arclight's edited replay package. Button fastens Theo's broken la...
The basement camera fell sideways just as Theo Vale's intake panel screamed ZERO-STAR in red above his sink.
Chat saw the notice before he did. Three hundred viewers, most of them waiting for a failure clip, watched the Civic System stamp the rating across his cracked phone, his unpaid rent notice, and the kettle where Pips refused to become useful on command. The Eastgate Tutorial Annex countdown sat under the rating: 04:59 UNTIL DOOR LOCK.
"That's impossible," Mara said through his earpiece. "You are not inside the tutorial yet."
Theo grabbed the torn lapel mic from the laundry basket. The cord snapped loose in his hand.
On the stream, Lyra Sable's polished lobby feed cut into the corner. She smiled beside a silver rank board while rookies in clean armor laughed on cue. "Candidate Theo Vale has received a pre-entry hazard flag. For safety, Arclight recommends accepting our edited replay package instead of attempting a live run."
Theo's chat slowed, then sharpened. Mara pinned one message from a viewer named FoamLaw: PRE-ENTRY RANKING VIOLATES CONTRACT IF TIMER STARTED.
"Lyra," Theo said toward the phone, "you started my tutorial clock in my basement."
Her smile thinned. "Your contract authorizes remote intake. Sign the replay consent and we will make this embarrassing evening short."
"Short for who?"
The lapel mic twitched. A small black button, still sewn to a shred of his old coat, rolled out of the laundry basket and clicked against his thumb. Theo felt the familiar cemetery-cold prickle in his fingertips.
"Button," he whispered, "fasten."
The button-wraith rose as a tiny brass-eyed shadow and stitched the broken mic clip through Theo's hoodie with three violent little jabs. The feed crackled clear. Chat heard Lyra inhale.
SYSTEM NOTE: NUISANCE-CLASS NECROMANCY DETECTED.
Theo lifted the phone so the zero-star panel, the countdown, and his newly working mic stayed in one frame. "Uncut stream stays on. If I am a hazard, the city gets to watch me be one."
Mara's voice turned brisk. "I am saving local cache. Keep the panel visible. Do not let them switch you to lobby-only."
The basement door opened by itself. Beyond it stood the Eastgate intake corridor, bright as a hospital and cold as a freezer aisle. Sponsor cameras hovered over the threshold like silver beetles. Theo stepped through with his phone raised. The basement vanished behind him.
The Annex lobby smelled of floor polish and nervous sweat. Rookies in one-star training leather parted when the overhead board repeated his name.
THEO VALE. ZERO-STAR. HAZARD TO OTHER ROOKIES.
Lyra stood below it with a tablet tucked to her ribs. "Last chance. I can classify this as a private technical error."
"On camera?"
"Off camera," she said. "That is the generous part."
Theo turned the phone so chat caught the tablet reflection. The consent form already had a thumbnail for his edited replay: Theo looking down, shoulders collapsed, zero stars glowing over him like a brand. It was a clip that had not happened.
Mara said, "Freeze on her tablet. Viewers, tag PREMADE REPLAY."
The chat did not spam. It started counting clip bounties, each tag landing with a small public chime. Lyra heard the chimes. So did the lobby.
"Your viewers cannot save you from a tutorial room," she said.
"No," Theo said, and Button tightened the mic until it bit his hoodie. "But they can tell everyone which door you pushed me through."
The tutorial arch opened behind her. Its stone teeth rearranged around a new warning line.
ZERO-STAR ENTRY ACCEPTED. PARTY HAZARD ACTIVE.
The rookies stopped laughing. Somewhere beyond the arch, machinery began to churn wetly, like a laundromat swallowing coins and bones at the same time.
Theo walked in before Lyra could touch her tablet again.