I tapped away at the workstation terminal, uploading the drone system update and adding a few meaningless loop commands. That way, there'd be something to report for the next performance review.

Standing up, I stretched and glanced over the feedback display from the dragonfly drones, making sure there was nothing that required my attention. It was only then that I noticed the alert about the approaching railcar.

Curious about the visitor's identity, I tidied up my desk a bit, ensuring nothing inappropriate was left out in the open.

"Boss." I bowed my head slightly in greeting as 86138 hopped down from the railcar. His delicate features and petite frame always made me forget he was twenty years my senior, and I couldn't help but perceive him as a young cub.

"76184," he responded casually, waving a hand in return before finding a chair and sitting down.

"Sorry, there's not much hospitality I can offer here at the workstation," I remarked, knowing full well he wouldn't be able to stomach anything made by our low-tier food synthesizers. Still, politeness was necessary.

"Do you remember the uproar caused by 76123?" The snow fox wasn't in the mood for small talk, cutting straight to the point. Clearly, someone had left the recent quarterly meeting quite unhappy.

"I remember." I treaded carefully, making sure to give nothing away.

"The external team the Earl brought in didn't find anything wrong. But just to be safe, they've decided to revert the system after the year-end tax settlements," 86138 said, glancing at me with his tea-colored eyes. "I tried hard to push it until after the spring planting next year, but the chances are slim."

"Uh..." I scratched my ear, hesitating whether to ask the obvious question—none of this really had anything to do with my area of responsibility. "Why are you telling me this, boss?"

"Because I know that the best engineer in all of Texas couldn't have missed what 76123 tampered with in the system," 86138 frowned, looking a bit displeased. "And the fact that you thought I wouldn't realize it makes me feel almost insulted."

The bluntness of his near-accusation left me speechless, and I completely forgot the carefully rehearsed responses I had prepared for just such an occasion.

"Fourth production team sent another request for assistance," the snow fox continued, not pressing the issue. "And of course, there's the harvest season and festival—you've been named as a guest of honor."

"Oh." I had expected it around this time, but the sudden shift in topic caught me off guard, leaving me to just go with the flow. "Of course, thanks for the reminder."

I knew none of this required 86138 to come and tell me in person—he just didn't want to leave any records.

"Go have some fun; you deserve it," he said as he stood up, stepping onto the platform and operating his terminal to prepare the railcar for departure. "And…" His tea-colored eyes flashed with a hint of hesitation before he quickly tapped the collar around his neck. "Good luck."

And just like that, 86138 left without even a backward glance.

I watched his white tail and slight frame disappear into the towering dark green foliage, unsure of what to make of it all.

"Thanks…" I muttered under my breath, absentmindedly rubbing my thumb over the insignia on the inside of my collar. "…Boss."

After several red foxes loaded the compacted straw bricks into the fuel tank, the central hall's furnace began radiating a steady warmth.

"Is this the model with the built-in biodiesel conversion?" I asked the red fox sitting to my right, half considering whether I should encourage 86138 to get one of these for the dormitory.

I tilted my head, amused at my own thought.

"Exactly!" The fox yelled drunkenly. "The latest model! Fiber-to-energy conversion efficiency up to 75%, and if you're using monosaccharides, it can go as high as 90%! Self-carbon capture, so no emissions quota usage! It also comes with plug-in liquid and gas phase valves for heating various materials!" Then he promptly collapsed onto the table, fast asleep.

Well, society certainly lost something by not letting us choose our own professions freely.

"76143 always gets overly excited about new toys. Sorry for the spectacle," another fox came over to apologize. I waved it off, signaling I didn't mind, and watched the newcomer help the drunken fox, who was now muttering nonsense, stumble out of the hall.

I took a large swig of whiskey from my beer mug and scanned the banquet hall, dimly lit by flickering lights. The wooden walls bore no real decorations but were dotted with functional electronic components. A few bell-shaped metal structures, some fitted with vacuum tubes, were broadcasting lively music.

Our DJ, apparently the fox sitting in the corner, was making intricate gestures with gloves connected to a mess of electrodes, either playing or arranging the tracks. The full-face helmet he wore changed the distribution of LEDs across its pixelated display in sync with the music, as if he had a face made of flashing lights.

There was a peaceful atmosphere in the now-warm air, accompanied by the clinking of dishes and the drunken laughter echoing from the long tables. I could almost taste an imagined flavor that didn't exist in reality.

If… this was enough, was I asking too much? Were the pedigree right, after all? Maybe it was just my illusion, hoping for things I didn't really need…

"Isn't this my favorite red fox?" 86142 plopped down in the empty seat beside me, throwing an arm around my shoulder and asking enthusiastically.

"My honor." I bowed my head in response, and we clinked our oversized mugs together.

"Don't tell anyone, but I'd gladly trade ten—no, twenty useless idiots to get you on 86138's team," he rambled, a little drunk after some idle chatter. "You lot who only cause me trouble, learn something, will you?" He yelled at the red foxes seated at the other tables, only to be met with jeers and laughter. "Damn 90s generation…" he grumbled, rolling his eyes, then downed his glass and slammed it onto the table. "I've no idea how we managed a 5% increase in production… Must've been because the previous year was shockingly low," 86142 muttered, choking up as he slapped my shoulder. "Thanks to you, 76184!"

Judging by how things were progressing, I figured he was on the verge of hugging me and crying, so I quickly changed the subject, trying to shift the focus onto something—anything—else.

"But didn't you get reinforcements? 74258?" I hadn't seen the sparkling fruit wine-loving fox yet and thought I'd casually inquire. "He's the best engineer I've ever seen."

Unexpectedly, 86142 shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the fox's number, adjusting his posture and casting a glance at his now-empty glass as if regretting finishing it too soon.

"I don't know about his skills, but you're better off not getting involved with him," 86142 murmured, lowering both his gaze and his small ears.

"What?" I couldn't connect the dots from his cryptic remarks and asked for clarification, but 86142 only continued mumbling fragmented words like "relocation" and "warning." Before I could make sense of what he was trying to say, he excused himself, citing the need for rest, and left.

Deciding to drop the matter, I activated my terminal and tried to locate 74258 on my own.

Just as I successfully pinpointed the fox I was looking for, the atmosphere in the hall became even more lively. Perhaps the overwhelming scent of whiskey was fueling the excitement, as many of the red foxes began a kind of dance, forming a long line by linking arms over each other's shoulders and marching in step to the upbeat rhythm.

After declining multiple invitations to join the dance and turning down offers to refill my drink, I finally managed to slip out during a brief interlude in the music, leaving the jovial atmosphere behind.

As soon as I stepped outside, the bitter cold enveloped me, the biting sensation seeping through every hair follicle to my skin. The sudden jolt to my senses, like waking from a dream, snapped me back to full awareness of the world around me.

My pupils quickly adjusted to the dim light, and soon, I could clearly make out my surroundings.

Several railcars were stacked nearby, filled with compacted straw bricks —the result of a full day's hard work from the Fourth Shift foxes—waiting for storage or transport. Not far off, the vast fields that had just been harvested stretched out, with a few small patches of dried stalks still sticking up from the earth, looking like scorched ground after a fire.

After a fire…

I involuntarily shuddered, instinctively puffing up my fur and wrapping my tail around myself to expose as little as possible to the cold. After rubbing my hands together to restore some warmth to my fingers, I checked my terminal again to confirm my destination. As I stepped off the rail track and began walking, the crisp melody of metal footsteps was the only sound that could be heard in the night.