Squad Gamma moved quickly through the building, the heavy thud of boots on concrete reverberating down the hallways as they exited the main area. Their bodies were tense, aware of the imminent danger ahead. Shiori led the way, her expression set, with the others following in close formation.
Outside, the dusk air hung low and cool as the gates of the facility opened. A couple of armored vans were parked, engines rumbling, waiting for Squad Gamma to board.
Shiori climbed into the first van without hesitation. Raizo was right behind her. Kaiori followed, her steps measured, eyes scanning the surroundings as if anticipating an ambush.
Hannah was quick to board, taking her place near Kaiori. She was still adjusting to the weight of the random Rift katana she had found in her assigned locker, but her resolve was solid. Her eyes met Kaiori's briefly, both of them acknowledging the silent tension between them.
Ren hesitated for just a moment at the door, his nerves making his hand shake slightly as he gripped the frame. He glanced over at the others, then quickly slipped inside, sitting near the back. The cramped space didn't help his nerves, but he tried to steady himself as the door slammed shut.
Kenji, ever the last to board, slipped in silently. He took his seat near Shiori, his eyes distant for a moment, scanning the outside world one last time before the doors closed behind him.
The engines of the vans roared to life, cutting through the quiet streets as they sped off toward the West Sector. The path to the Rift was winding and uncertain, but the squad didn't speak—the weight of their task settled heavy in their bones.
Then Shiori broke the silence, her voice low but steady. "We need to talk."
The others looked toward her, attention sharpened.
"There's a ranking system for Rift creatures. They haven't officially told us yet, but it exists." She let her gaze sweep over the squad. "Class 8 is the weakest barely more than target practice. Then it goes up. Class 7, 6, 5… each one tougher than the last. Class 4's are the kind that take real squads to handle. Class 3? You only send elites. And then it just keeps climbing from there."
She paused.
"I don't know what class we're walking into. No one's said a thing. But if they're sending us out this early, it's not a walk in the park."
Kaiori leaned forward slightly. "So we're just guessing?"
Shiori nodded once. "That's why we stay sharp. Eyes open, no hesitation. This isn't a drill, and it's sure as hell not a game. Out there—it's life or death."
A beat of silence.
"But don't mistake our role," she added. "We're support. We're not the first wave, not the tip of the spear. We back up the teams who are. Reinforce them. Cover them. Buy time if it all goes sideways. We're not here to be heroes—we're here to survive and help others do the same."
Ren's hand tightened slightly on his seat. Kaiori's jaw worked, but she didn't interrupt this time.
Shiori leaned back. "That's all. Just remember: we move smart. We move together."
The van rattled over the rough terrain as Squad Gamma moved in tense silence, the weight of their task settling in with every passing mile. The air inside was thick with anticipation. Then, Kaiori couldn't keep the frustration from bubbling up any longer. She leaned forward, glaring at the others.
Kaiori, her voice sharp with frustration, broke the silence.
"So what? We just sit back and watch while others handle the real fight?"
Her words hung in the air, charged with the sting of frustration. She wasn't wrong. They had all been trained for battle, but now it felt as though they were being sidelined. Her eyes flicked from Shiori to Raizo, seeking some kind of response, some justification.
Kenji didn't look up from his quiet reflection, his tone as measured and calm as always.
"It means we strike where it matters. Not where it's flashy." He let his words settle, his eyes never leaving the window. He didn't seem phased by Kaiori's outburst. He understood the reality they faced. The world wasn't about making a show—it was about results.
Hannah, who had been sitting quietly, her fingers idly tracing the hilt of her Rift katana, spoke up suddenly. Her voice was calm but had an edge to it that matched her determination.
"Look," she said, her eyes to Kaiori, "We all know why we're here. We're not the frontliners, but that doesn't mean we won't be fighting when the time comes. It's about knowing when and where we're needed."
Ren, who had been sitting at the back of the van, fidgeting nervously, couldn't hold back his uncertainty any longer. He turned to face Shiori, his voice unsteady, his eyes searching for reassurance.
"Support… still means we fight, right?"
His question was dumb yet simple and smart, but it held the weight of his own doubts. He wasn't like the others. He had his own fears, his own trauma. He wasn't sure where he fit in, even after everything he had been through. The pressure of the unknown and the new responsibility of being part of the squad weighed on him heavily.
Shiori's eyes briefly flickered to Ren, catching his gaze for a split second. She saw the unease in his eyes, but she didn't flinch. Her voice was steady and reaffirming, tempered with the hard lessons she had learned in her own battles.
"It means we stay alive. And we keep others alive. You'll learn the difference."
Her words hung in the air, and Ren nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. Shiori wasn't sugarcoating anything, but that was what he needed. They weren't heroes on the frontlines. They were something more: the lifeline for those who fought. He would learn that, even if it scared him.
The van rattled over the city roads as Squad Gamma moved in tense silence. The air inside was thick with anticipation, the hum of the engines cutting through the stillness. The cityscape outside blurred as they sped toward their destination. The buildings and streets, familiar and well-lit, seemed normal, but there was an unsettling feeling in the air—an odd shift, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
Kaiori, still frustrated by their current position, shifted in her seat, eyes darting out the window as if trying to peer through the ordinary scenery for a hint of what was to come. Her gaze was sharp, alert, her mind still racing from their conversation.
Kenji, leaning back and eyes half-closed, seemed entirely unfazed. His posture was calm, almost detached, but his quiet observation revealed a mind constantly at work, calculating. The city passing by didn't seem to register in his mind; it was a momentary backdrop to the tension of what awaited them.
Ren's hands were tense, gripping his knees, eyes constantly flicking from Shiori to the window. He could feel it, too—the difference in the air, that slight but undeniable distortion. It was subtle, but unmistakable. The Rift energy was getting closer, and with it, the threat of the unknown.
The driver, an RRD soldier, focused intently on the road, his expression hard to read. He didn't speak, his attention fully on maneuvering the van through the winding city streets. His hands were steady on the wheel, but even he couldn't ignore the strange shift in the air—the sense of foreboding that seemed to grow stronger with each passing mile.
The van made a hard right, bumping off the cracked pavement and onto a dirt path that veered toward the outskirts of the city. The terrain shifted under the tires, jostling everyone inside as the buildings thinned out and the skyline gave way to the jagged outline of Echo Ridge in the distance.
The RRD soldier in the driver's seat glanced into the rearview mirror. "We're getting close. Echo Ridge is just ahead."
The van rattled along the path, the city behind them fading fast. A subtle shift in the air hit them—something unnatural. It wasn't something they could hear or see, but they could feel it. Like a tremor in their bones, a crawling hum just beneath the surface.
Ren shifted in his seat, glancing toward the windows. "Do you feel that?" he muttered, almost to himself.
"Yeah," Kaiori said sharply, already gripping the edge of her seat. "That's Rift energy. Twisted."
Kenji's eyes narrowed. "It's close."
The van made a hard right, bumping off the cracked pavement and onto a dirt path that veered toward the outskirts of the city. The terrain shifted under the tires, jostling everyone inside as the buildings thinned out and the skyline gave way to the jagged outline of Echo Ridge in the distance.
The RRD soldier in the driver's seat glanced into the rearview mirror. "We're getting close. Echo Ridge is just ahead."
The van rattled along the path, the city behind them fading fast. A subtle shift in the air hit them—something unnatural. It wasn't something they could hear or see, but they could feel it. Like a tremor in their bones, a crawling hum just beneath the surface.
Ren shifted in his seat, glancing toward the windows. "Do you feel that?" he muttered, almost to himself.
"Yeah," Kaiori said, her tone low. "The air feels like it's twisting."
The van jolted as they hit another turn, the rugged terrain pushing them closer to their destination.
And then—they could see it.
Down in the clearing ahead—where rocky terrain flattened just below the ridge—was a battle in full force. Craters were torn into the earth. Smoke curled upward from burning transport wreckage. Two other RRD squads were locked in combat, weaving through debris as they tried to coordinate an attack.
And the Rift creature—
It was massive. Its body was a twisted mass of dark, shifting material, like it had formed from the very Rift energy itself. Thick tendrils grew from its upper back, writhing and lashing out as if they were controlled by the creature's will. Its head was a smooth, shifting surface, void of features except for a vertical seam that split open with gnashing, glassy teeth. The thing jerked and convulsed, then snapped forward with frightening speed.
Then there it was, the Rift portal.
It hovered in the clearing like a wound torn through reality—a jagged crack in the air, glowing a deep, seething violet. The edges shimmered like broken glass, pulsing with energy that warped the space around it. No sound came from it, but the silence it created was louder
The van came to a jarring stop.
The driver turned halfway around in his seat. "This is as close as I can get without drawing its attention."
No one argued.
Hannah's voice broke the silence, firm despite the shake in it. "We're supposed to just watch? This… this is a warzone. We've got to help."
Shiori leaned forward, steady and composed. "We move on foot from here. Eyes open. We're not frontliners—but we don't run from the field either."
Kaiori's fists clenched. "I'm not just standing around."
Kenji nodded calmly, already rising. "Stay focused. We'll make an impact when the time is right."
Ren swallowed hard, anxiety clawing at him, but he nodded too. "Right… stay alive."