Day 53 – Hour 006"Before the Envelope"
Two days left.
That's what Marco had said the night before, right as we were closing the shop. It wasn't a congratulations or a farewell. Just a timestamp. A subtle signal that the apprenticeship — as short and strange as it had been — was almost over.
He said it with a clean rag in his hand, wiping down a lens like it was sacred. I didn't know if he meant two days until I was done, or two days until I was tested. But either way, I'd made it further than I expected.
Today, the shop was already open when I arrived. The light through the dusty window stretched long across the counter. Marco stood over the drying rack, carefully turning a strip of negatives with a gloved hand. He didn't greet me. He didn't need to.
We'd settled into something like rhythm.
I unpacked the rolls from yesterday's shoot, laid them out for sorting, and moved through the familiar morning steps. Even though we didn't speak, I felt it — the shift in the room. He was watching with different eyes now. Not judging. Not expecting. Measuring.
When I finished cataloguing, I heard him behind me.
"You're not slow anymore."
I turned, unsure if that counted as praise.
"Not slow," he repeated. "Just green. You see clearer now."
It was the closest he'd come to a compliment.
I gave a quiet nod and returned to the tray.
Half an hour passed before I asked.
I'd been meaning to bring it up for days — ever since Vex said it so casually under that dying tree.
"Marco," I said, keeping my tone light. "About what Vex mentioned… the Club tracking analog cameras. That didn't make much sense to me."
He didn't look up from the lightbox.
"Vex plays too much."
That was it.
But I waited, knowing he wasn't done.
"It's not that the Club can trace analog," he continued, slowly and clearly. "It's that someone delivers the film to them. We use it because it's harder to track, not impossible."
I nodded. That lined up more with what I expected.
But it still left a knot in my chest.
Marco could see that.
"They don't need to follow your camera," he said. "They already know where you sleep."
I said nothing after that.
But the conversation had already answered more than just my question.
Marco wasn't afraid of being watched.
But he wasn't ignorant of it either.
He lived beside the edge of danger, but not under it. And that made him feel more dangerous than the Club.
I was cutting a new roll when the curtain rustled.
Light footsteps.
No warning.
Then came the familiar, too-loud voice.
"Speak about me and I shall appear!"
Vex.
He pushed the curtain aside with one hand and held a paper bag in the other. He looked just as bright and obnoxious as the last time I saw him — cheerful in a way that made you second-guess whether he was ever serious.
Marco didn't react.
"Morning, gentlemen," Vex said. "Hope I'm not interrupting a secret ritual or anything."
Marco nodded toward the stool. "You're early."
Vex dropped the paper bag on the counter. "You wound me. This is punctuality. I even brought snacks."
But he wasn't alone.
Trailing behind him was another man. Similar age. Similar build. But the aura was completely different — confident, sharp-edged, and curious. He wore a deep blue jacket with a single patch on the sleeve, and in his hand was a white envelope pressed so flat it looked like part of his skin.
Nemi froze.
The envelope was unmistakable.
"New face," I said, keeping my voice steady.
"New assignment," Vex answered, patting the other man on the back. "This here is Tamber. Don't bother asking what it means — I don't think even his mother knows."
Tamber stepped forward with a casual nod. His eyes flicked over me — not cold, not hostile. Just measuring, like Marco had done. Like Vex sometimes did when I wasn't looking.
"You're Nemi," he said. "They've both told me about you."
He held out the envelope.
"Now I want to see for myself."
I took it from his hand carefully.
It felt heavier than it should have.
Inside was paper.
Instructions.
Maybe worse.
But I didn't open it.
Not yet.
"You'll want to read that alone," Tamber said, stepping back.
I looked toward Marco, searching for a signal. Approval. Disapproval. Anything.
He simply said, "Two days left."
That told me everything.
The test had arrived.
And whatever was inside this envelope…
…was going to decide what came next.