The ground shuddered as something slammed into the pavement just ahead of Ezra and Amara, sending cracks sprawling outward from the impact. Before they could react, a figure rose from the dust, standing between them and the wreckage.
It was a woman—short, with dark blue curls and sleek, shimmering armor that caught the floodlights.
At the same time, another figure emerged through the rubble, approaching with slow, heavy steps. Ezra could see him clearly now—a man, broad-shouldered, clad in reinforced gloves that gleamed under the artificial light. Each footstep landed with a weight that made the ground seem to breathe beneath him.
Eli exhaled sharply. "Irene, Rook, Dane. You're late."
The blue-haired woman—Irene, Ezra assumed—grinned, unbothered. "Captain, don't be so mean. It's only an hour. Not that bad."
Ezra wasn't sure if she was joking or genuinely didn't care.
"Besides," she continued, practically bouncing on her feet, "the Rift Zone hasn't even opened yet. And speaking of lateness, Tess isn't even here."
Dane arrived next, shorter than Eli, with dark silver hair and an easygoing smirk. Without hesitation, he slung an arm around Eli's shoulders in a mock embrace.
"Relax, Captain," he said smoothly. "You can't stay mad at us. We're your only friends, after all."
Eli shot him a look of pure exhaustion.
The last to arrive was Rook—older, composed, with a neatly trimmed beard. He didn't speak, simply nodding in greeting, his presence as steady as bedrock.
Before any further introductions could be made, a small figure came barreling toward them, breathless. A woman with blonde hair pulled into a neat bun skidded to a stop, cheeks flushed from running.
"Sorry, Captain. I lost track of time," she panted.
"Tess," Dane sighed, shaking his head dramatically. "Late again? Unbelievable."
"Hey! I apologized!" Tess shot back, glaring. Then, turning to Eli with wide eyes, she pleaded, "You accept it, right, Captain?"
Eli regarded her with an unreadable expression, then nodded.
Tess beamed, triumphant. Dane groaned.
"Really?" Dane whined, slumping like a betrayed lover. "You couldn't back me up just once?"
The tension among them eased as the team finally gathered.
Dane turned to Ezra, looking him up and down before grinning. Without warning, he reached out and ruffled Ezra's hair. "And who's this kid you brought along?" he asked, smirking. "Whoa, your hair's cool. Damn."
Ezra scowled, swatting his hand away.
No one answered Dane's question, which made him dramatically slump in exaggerated disappointment.
Amara finally broke the silence. "This is Eli's team," she explained, gesturing toward them. "Awakened Irene—barriers. Awakened Dane—gravity. Awakened Rook—seismic shockwaves. And Awakened Tess—Aether recovery and support."
Then, with a small smile, she glanced at Ezra. "You're lucky, you know. You just met some of the strongest Awakened alive."
Before Ezra could react, alarms erupted.
Shrill, blaring sirens shattered the night. Soldiers moved like clockwork, boots pounding against the pavement, weapons raised. Tank barrels shifted with heavy groans, locking onto the empty horizon.
At first, it was barely noticeable—a faint ripple in the air, like heat waves on asphalt. But then, the distortion grew. Wider. Deeper.
The wind picked up, sharp and violent. Dust and debris swirled around them, rattling vehicles, forcing soldiers to brace against the force.
Ezra felt it before he saw it.
A pulse. A heartbeat in the void.
The rift split open.
A yawning, black abyss, its core endless and pulsing with eerie light. Something was watching from the other side. Waiting.
"Steady yourselves," Eli said, his voice eerily calm. "It's starting."
For a moment, everything was silent.
Then the first fiend poured through.
Ezra took an involuntary step back. The creatures were wrong—snarling, twisted things, their eyes glowing hungrily as they locked onto the group.
Amara, unfazed, spoke lightly. "You might want to move, Ezra."
He barely heard her.
"This is a Category III Rift," she continued, glancing at the creatures like they were mildly annoying. "It releases feinds—thralls and dregs. Only Awakened and above can close it. Let's pray they don't have Order."
Before Ezra could process that, Dane and Rook moved.
Dane walked forward first, his wild grin stretching as if this was nothing more than a game.
Rook followed at his side—silent, controlled.
Ezra watched as Dane strode into the battlefield and… stopped.
Perfectly still. Eyes closed. Smiling.
The fiends charged.
"Why isn't he doing anything?!" Ezra shouted, his voice barely audible over the wind. His pulse hammered in his ears. "Why are you just standing there?!"
Irene smirked, arms crossed. "Let the boys have their fun," she mused. "We're not exactly in a rush."
Ezra's frustration mounted. None of them seemed even remotely concerned.
Then Tess, the quietest among them, gently tugged at his sleeve.
He glanced at her, startled. She looked up at him, her expression soft. Distant.
"Irene handles the barrier," she explained. "She keeps the Rift sealed. Nothing gets in. Nothing gets out."
Ezra barely processed it, still focused on Dane—who remained motionless even as the fiends closed in.
"I manage the team's Aether," Tess continued. "Recovery, distribution. Making sure they don't burn out."
Then, her gaze flicked to Eli.
"And Captain…" she murmured. "He finishes whatever's left."
Ezra turned back toward the battlefield.
The first wave of fiends lunged for Dane.
And then it started.