---
A guard waited near the post.
From far away, his armor looked plain. Iron plates. Black leather straps. A travel cloak tucked neatly behind his shoulders. Nothing flashy.
Up close, the truth showed itself.
Every plate carried runes, not carved for beauty, but stamped for function. Teleportation runes. Registration runes. Toll runes. The kind of runes that did not glow unless the association wanted them to glow. The kind that reminded travelers they were not entering a wild portal. They were stepping into a system.
He carried a halberd made of dark alloy, thick and heavy, its shaft wrapped in a grip cloth that had been replaced many times. The blade hummed faintly like a wasp trapped under glass. Not contract authority. Teleport authority. Different flavors. Same danger.
His face was hidden behind a mask.
Not for intimidation.
For safety.
Because in Null, the wrong traveler could remember your face and decide your family line was inconvenient.
