MEURSAULT.

[ZWEI ASSOC. SOUTH SECTION 3 SERVICE ANIMAL] Lassie: <Ahh, pardon me, excuse me... Please don't stand in the way.>

The crowd parts easily as I march my ward through the crowded Backstreets. It's rush hour; residents are on their way home from work, to their night shifts, to their personal obligations, and I am no different. At the moment, my ward is simply out for a walk, enjoying the nice weather and the sun on their skin.

My job is simple but important. I lead through dangerous, unpredictable terrain. Rocky roads, around signposts, through the hordes of people that pass by across the street and on sidewalks. It's an absolutely critical mission that only I matched all the criteria for. My training at the Zwei South Section 3 headquarters was rigorous, involving many days of agility courses and attention tests. I passed all of them with flying colors, of course - my fellow Fixers were positively taken aback by my skill and prowess.

(And, by how it sounded, my ability to see traffic lights, and handle the dagger they've affixed to my vest. That's always a plus.)

At the moment, my ward's goal is the park. They know the rough and tumble of how to get there, and my mission is to guide. I follow every little command as it comes to me, and I enjoy the sights and smells of a busy day.

In a few hours, I'll do the same thing all over again to get them home. It's hard work, but it's honest work, befitting of a Zwei.

...of course, the work doesn't end at sunset, when someone's asleep.

[ZWEI ASSOC. SOUTH SECTION 3 SERVICE ANIMAL] Lassie: <!!!>

[ZWEI ASSOC. SOUTH SECTION 3 SERVICE ANIMAL] Lassie: <Agh, I forgot! I forgot about the Rules!> [ZWEI ASSOC. SOUTH SECTION 3 SERVICE ANIMAL] Lassie: <My fault for taking a bad detour...!>

I duck into an alleyway, listening to the clattering of plastic in the bag of my vest. It's an important parcel, full of critical supplies - painkillers, various forms of medicine, and important refills for important machines. They don't let me read any of it before they slip it in for me, but they have labels for who they need to go to, and I certainly know plenty of the addresses around this area. I'm not one for sleeping - so I'm the perfect little middleman for these kinds of deliveries, put together by locals and packaged by the Zwei at the station.

I hear the clanging of hooks and chittering beeps behind me underneath the stomping of metal feet. I managed to fight my way out from under one of their stragglers, but I'm not one for dealing with crowds. I have an important duty, after all. Mentally, I map out where I am in the neighborhood. At worst, I'll need to wait for the gap between waves to make my move towards my first delivery.

A Zwei's role as a Shield doesn't begin and end with one person, or when the sun goes down. The Zwei charge steep, but a section is only as strong as the community it's part of.

From the Fixers working alone to the people who need the help of others to thrive, I do my best to do all I can. There's more to being a Shield than just being a guard. True protection will only come from proper stability.

...ehe.