The receptionist at the Guild Registry gave me a look that could only be described as "long-suffering resignation," the kind reserved for people who forgot documents, tried to pay in monster teeth, or filled out their applications using interpretive dance.
"Final confirmation," she droned, holding a glowing quill over the last line of parchment. "Guild name?"
I froze.
This was it. The moment of truth. The big reveal.
Lina leaned against the desk beside me, arms crossed, one eyebrow cocked. "Please don't say something dumb. I swear if you say 'Sword Force 9000' again—"
"I wasn't going to," I muttered, sweating. "I grew as a person."
"You brainstormed 'Boom Magic Bros' yesterday," Iris added flatly from behind a book she was barely pretending to read.
"That was ironic."
"You printed it on hats."
"Okay, that was less ironic…"
The receptionist cleared her throat loudly.
I stood tall — or tried to, given that I was barely taller than the desk — and looked her straight in the eyes. This was my guild. My dream. My party. My incredibly dysfunctional, questionably competent, occasionally flammable family. And it needed a name worthy of the bond we shared.
"We are," I declared, dramatically, "Linked Hearts."
Silence.
The receptionist blinked. "Seriously?"
Lina choked on her spit.
Iris lowered her book half an inch, staring at me like I'd confessed to murdering grammar.
Kaela, who had come along out of vague curiosity and free mints from the front desk, just tilted her head. "Sounds like a romance novel."
"It's meaningful!" I protested. "Think about it! We're connected — not just through the System, but through actual friendship. And magic. And shared trauma. And, you know, affection meters that update at awkward times—"
"Linked Hearts," Lina echoed, her voice unreadable. "Really?"
"It's not that bad," I mumbled.
"Better than 'Sword Bros 9000,'" Iris murmured.
Lina folded her arms. "I'm not mad. Just disappointed."
"You say that, but your affection meter jumped 2% just now."
She kicked me under the desk.
I grinned.
The receptionist, who had clearly decided she was being paid too little for this, rolled her eyes and tapped the quill to the form. The paper glowed, then shimmered with a burst of magic before vanishing into the archives. A small stamp floated above the desk for a moment — a glittering heart symbol intersected by a ribbon of light.
"Guild #748 is now registered under the name 'Linked Hearts.' Please don't break anything."
I held up our new badge, a small crystalline emblem etched with our insignia. I expected groans, maybe more kicks to the shin, but instead…
Lina reached over and flicked it with her finger. "Kinda cute."
Iris brushed her hair back behind her ear and, in the faintest whisper, said, "It suits us."
My brain nearly short-circuited.
Kaela gave me a thumbs-up, which, from her, was basically a standing ovation.
We stepped out of the Registry into the early evening sunlight, where magical streetlamps were just beginning to flicker to life. Crowds bustled around us, adventurers boasting of loot, merchants yelling about discounts on flame-proof pants, and children chasing floating balloons enchanted with wind runes.
I held up our guild badge like it was a holy relic.
"We're official," I said.
"Yeah," Lina replied softly. "We really are."
Iris stepped up beside me. "Linked Hearts… you know, the name might grow on me."
"I always liked it," I lied, trying to play it cool.
Kaela poked my arm. "So, what now, fearless leader?"
I blinked. "Leader?"
"You made the name," Lina said. "You dragged us into this. You're the one with the weird, glitchy, love-fueled System no one understands."
"And the one who keeps almost dying," Iris added.
Kaela nodded. "Yeah. You're the heart of this chaos."
"…That's a lot of responsibility."
"You'll survive." Lina smirked. "Probably."
We walked down the street together, our guild badge glowing faintly between us like a lantern guiding our path. We didn't have a base yet. Or a banner. Or matching uniforms. Or any kind of long-term plan.
But we had each other. And a name.
And for now, that was enough.
Somewhere far above, in the hidden threads of the System's backend, new data was being written. A flag was raised. A convergence path quietly activated.
Guild [Linked Hearts] Registered – [Irregular Protocol] Confirmed
Tracking Progression: Active
Affection Threshold Event Probability: 78%
I didn't know it yet. None of us did. But this name — this small moment of unity — would echo across the continent. Not just as a name on a parchment or a badge on a jacket, but as the beginning of something much bigger than any of us could imagine.
Linked Hearts wasn't just a name.
It was a promise.
And chaos was about to take that promise very, very seriously.
END OF CHAPTER 31