The disembarkation was controlled chaos. Uniformed NVA staff directed the flood of prospects toward a massive courtyard at the base of The Spire. Banners hung from towering poles, each displaying a different symbol and color—presumably representing the five student guilds.
"Assigned assembly point," I muttered, checking the information on my ID card. "Sector 4-C. You?"
"4-C as well," Natalia said, showing her card.
"Same here!" Emi bounced excitedly, her earlier anxiety seemingly forgotten in the face of this small victory.
"They probably grouped us by region," I reasoned, though I suspected there might be more to it. The System often engineered "coincidences" that served the narrative.
We followed the signs to Sector 4-C, a designated area marked by glowing blue lines on the courtyard floor.
