Chapter 62
Perpetua hovered quietly, her form shimmering faintly as she subtly adjusted the lingering distortions in the survivors' perception. The small anomalies, the child recalling glimpses of events that never "should have happened," the flashes of a five-year reality that should not exist, were erased almost before they could fully manifest. Time flowed as she intended, smooth and uninterrupted.
Magnus watched silently, his eyes thoughtful and heavy. He knew, better than anyone, that Perpetua was beyond law, beyond rules, beyond consequence. She could bend perception, rewrite memory, even shape reality itself without resistance. And yet… he felt a weight of responsibility settle on him.
"Perpetua," he said, his voice quiet but firm, "I know you can fix this. I know you can make it all… right again. But promise me something. Never do it again, not like this. Not with sentient lives. They deserve their own flow of time. Their own growth. Their own memories, even the painful ones. You cannot take that from them, no matter how small."
Perpetua tilted her head, her expression unreadable but softened by the hint of acknowledgment. "I understand, Magnus. I… will try to restrain myself."
Magnus allowed a long silence to settle between them, the quiet hum of the city outside filtering through the windows. He knew "try" was as close as he would get to a promise from Time itself, but it was enough. For now.
The anomalies ceased entirely. The survivors continued their lives, unaware of the threads of reality that had almost unraveled around them. Children laughed, friendships resumed, and life, messy, imperfect, unpredictable life, moved forward. Magnus felt the faintest weight lift from his shoulders. It was not perfect. It would never be perfect. But it was real.
He turned away from the window and allowed himself the smallest of smiles, a rare moment of quiet amidst the chaos of worlds and timelines. "Let them live," he whispered. "Let them remember. Let them grow. That is what truly matters."
And with that, Magnus returned to the quiet rhythm of his apartment, leaving Time to its own bounds, and the world to its own unfolding story.
{ Fixed time paradox)
A few days had passed since the Seventh Rift's collapse. The Sentinel Tower had been fully sealed, its access restricted by the World Government, who now understood the catastrophic potential of unregulated exploration and technology plundering. Attempts to breach it were met with fail-safes, ancient mechanisms designed to make unauthorized entry impossible.
The tower had activated once more, but under far more controlled conditions. This time, rift manifestations could be monitored, contained, and even studied systematically. The noids, those chaotic, otherworldly creatures, remained the primary threat, yet their missions were no longer random. With the central control destroyed and reshaped by Perpetua's intervention, the tower's testing protocols reverted to a calibrated system: challenges ranging from simple "easy" scenarios to hellish extreme simulations, each one carefully measured to test limits without catastrophic overflow.
the rift the manifested were many , the agency cleaners were tasked to monitor them , because the rift were now in a fix area many groups saw this as a opportunity to gain wealth , the rift were the noids dwell were no longer blank, it had harvestable resources like minerals and raw materials, the noids were now different as it became more intelligent especially those humanoid looking ones , they were no longer pale looking their skin were now grayer and more natural looking, unlike before they were artificial and erratic, the power source each Noid were seen coming from mana crystal cores , these cores gave the noid creatures specific elemental power it can be used for defense and attacking a prey.
Meanwhile, deep within the Eclipthrone's inner central chamber, the massive core hummed with latent energy. The intricate mechanisms that monitored the flow of cosmic and temporal forces glowed faintly, responding to the presence within. The representatives of the Khal'Ruun Synod and the Nymvar Collective worked meticulously, opening the core and scanning its depths. Every sensor, every probe, and every magical attunement was brought to bear, they had to be certain.
After repeated analyses, the conclusion was consistent: the energy signature within the core remained active. Omega, the being of unimaginable potential and the key to many cosmic balances, was still inside. Every pulse, every resonance confirmed the presence, but the readings were only partial. The energy emanated not as a clear, conscious output, but as a complex, layered force, alive, aware, and dormant simultaneously.
"Based on current readings," one of the Nymvar scholars said cautiously, "the core is stable, and Omega remains dormant. Yet the energy… it is not entirely predictable. It interacts with the residual flows of the planetary and multiversal energy grid."
Another representative added, "We have checked multiple times. It produces measurable power, but it does not respond to standard observation methods. Omega's presence is confirmed, but its state… we cannot fully define."
The room fell into silence as the truth settled over them.
Omega's sleep was not ordinary. It was bound to time, reality, and the structure of entire worlds. The energy readings said containment was stable, but everyone present understood that this meant very little. One mistake, one wrong decision, could awaken Omega. And if that happened, no civilization, no matter how advanced, could predict the outcome.
To reassure themselves, the council ordered the High Imperial forces to begin a massive probe across all sectors. They wanted proof that they still held absolute control. Special attention was given to reports of destroyed planets and strange anomalies. Any such anomaly was to be engaged if necessary.
Then, without warning, a young woman appeared in the chamber.
She looked human. About five feet eight inches tall, slim, yet her body carried the quiet memory of strength. She stood calmly, as if time itself slowed for her. Her skin held a warm, sun-kissed tone. Her long dark hair flowed down her back, almost black, but streaked faintly with silver, marks of something ancient. Her eyes were a deep blue, unnaturally focused, as if they saw beyond the present moment.
She smiled gently and spoke only one sentence:
"Can you just leave things as they are?"
Vael-Omn, Custodian Prime, a towering figure with branching, auroral limbs and rings of light orbiting his head, prepared to react.
But instead of moving, his vision shifted.
Suddenly, he was no longer in the chamber.
He stood on his home world, among his own primordial kind. Before him was the Khal'Ruun Synod, gathered around the Eclipthrone. The Warden Sovereign was speaking about the integrity of the Prison Core.
Time itself had been forced backward, only in that exact space around Vael-Omn. Everywhere else, time continued forward, untouched and unaware.
Someone had rewritten a moment… without disturbing the universe around it.
Magnus and Alexa returned to something that almost felt normal.
Almost.
Morning in Nexus City began with layered light, holographic sunlines passing over steel towers while transport rails hummed like distant bees. Magnus walked beside Alexa through the transit bridge, their steps unhurried. The world moved fast around them, but they moved like people who had already seen what waited beyond it.
Magnus returned to his post at Nexus Communication , Rift Monitoring Branch.
The building had changed.
Overnight, entire floors had been rebuilt. New conduits ran through the walls like glowing veins. Observation windows had been replaced with adaptive reality screens that could simulate rift conditions in real time. The system upgrade had been classified as "routine."
It was not routine.
New arrays scanned rift pressure, spatial distortion, and awakened energy signatures down to the smallest fluctuation. AI cores now predicted breach probability seconds before instability occurred.
Magnus sat at his station, slipping on the neural band.
"Monitoring node online," the system chimed."Operator Magnus Hale confirmed."
Rows of data bloomed before his eyes.
Rift density: stable.Anomaly index: low.Cleaner deployment: minimal.
To everyone else, he was just a technician, another registered awakened assigned to desk duty after injury. A man who watched numbers and sent alerts.
None of them knew he had once torn a Calamity-class rift apart with his bare hands.
None of them knew the codename Omega.
The Maverick Cleaner.
Even the higher command believed Omega had gone dormant, possibly dead.
Magnus preferred it that way.
He adjusted a threshold parameter by instinct. The system lagged for half a second, then corrected itself.
"Good catch," said a nearby analyst. "That spike would've been missed before the upgrade."
Magnus nodded."Upgrades don't matter," he said quietly. "People do."
Across the city, Alexa's day had already begun.
The Horizon Guild Training Hall echoed with movement, boots on reinforced flooring, energy discharges cracking against shield barriers, instructors calling out timing and formation drills.
Alexa stood near the center ring, arms crossed, watching a group of new recruits struggle through a synchronized clearing formation.
"Again," she said calmly. "But this time, trust the one beside you."
A young awakened with flickering flame palms hesitated."What if they fail?"
Alexa stepped forward.
"Then you catch them. That's what guilds are for."
She demonstrated the formation herself, smooth, precise, controlled. Her energy shield flared briefly, catching a simulated strike meant for another trainee.
The recruits stared.
"She's not even a front liner," one whispered."Then why does she move like that?" another said.
Alexa pretended not to hear.
Her job wasn't to be feared.It was to make sure they lived.
While Magnus watched rifts, Alexa built people strong enough to face them.
At midday, Magnus reviewed a classified alert.
⚠ Rift Signature Anomaly Detected
⚠ Classification: Noid Rift – active and unstable
⚠ Location: Sector 12-Δ, Nexus Grid, coordinates 214.7 / 89.3 / -41.6 (confirmed)⚠ Rank: Medium – potential escalation if uncontained
⚠ Mission Objective: Hunt, neutralize, and eliminate all Noid-class entities within the rift boundary. Suppress rift energy leakage to prevent spread to adjacent sectors.⚠ Number of Hostiles: Estimated 500 Noid-class creatures, exhibiting coordinated hunting patterns and territorial aggression. Unknown subtypes may be present.
⚠ Threat Notes: Entities display moderate adaptive intelligence, capable of avoiding direct confrontation when outnumbered. Potential collateral damage to surrounding infrastructure and civilian zones if containment fails. Recommend deployment of at least 2 full ranger teams with S-rank suppression support.⚠ Time Sensitivity: Immediate action required – rift growth rate detected at +0.07 units/hour. Delay may elevate threat to High rank.⚠ Additional Instructions: Maintain perimeter security, document all hostile encounters, and transmit live data feeds to central Nexus Command for post-mission analysis.
His fingers paused.
The waveform felt… familiar.
Not dangerous.Not stable.
As if something had touched reality and chosen not to tear it.
He minimized the file.
"Not today," he muttered, a faint smile tugging at his lips. For once, he longed for the quiet rhythm of a normal life, mundane, uneventful, and free from the constant hum of danger. The past few days had been… taxing, to say the least. Endless alerts, rift scans, and mission briefings had gnawed at the edges of his patience.
He allowed himself a small, private sigh, as if the sound itself could chase away the weight of his responsibilities. To be anonymous, to blend into the hum of Nexus Communication, to watch others live their lives without the shadow of annihilation hanging over them, that was the life he craved.
And yet, as the alert blinked insistently on his console, Magnus felt the familiar pull, the whisper of duty threading through him. He could ignore it, he told himself. Just for today, let the world turn without him.
For today… he would try.
At the same time, Alexa dismissed her trainees for the rest cycle. Sweat dampened her collar from the intensity of the drills. She leaned against the railing of the training hall, letting her body sag into the support, and looked up at the sky-dome above the city. The artificial sun glimmered faintly through the layers of reinforced glass, casting long, muted shadows across the streets below.
Her mind wandered, half to the drills she'd just overseen, half to Magnus. He'd been quieter these past days, more… human, somehow. A small smile tugged at her lips. She knew he longed for this kind of normalcy too,
Alexa laughed and wrapped her hand around Magnus' arm, and for a brief moment, the weight of the world, the rifts, the Noids, the Omega code name, felt distant. The warmth of her touch grounded him in a reality he had longed for but rarely allowed himself to enjoy.
"Thanks," he murmured, taking a small bite of the bun. The taste was simple, ordinary… comforting. She tilted her head, studying him with that quiet, knowing look she always had. "You really should eat more often," she said softly, nudging him playfully.
Magnus chuckled, the sound low and rare. "I'll try… for you." "Nah," she said, wagging a finger at him, "you will not try. You need to eat on time. No excuses. I don't want to see my girlfriend fainting in the middle of a mission—or worse, skipping dinner because she thinks she's invincible." " what mission, we ave so many new members, i hardly get to go on rift clearings now a days." " how long has it been since i got to join a mission,
" Alexa counted and recalled, " within more than week we had six missions and i was excluded," " I have raining those new members, don't get me wrong i like heling them grow but .." "but what? I prefer you and I spend less time on fighting, remember that the only reason why i participated in those mission was to watch over your safety"
Magnus leaned back, letting out a long sigh. "Yeah… I know. You're always thinking about me, even when you're buried in training. I… appreciate it."
Alexa nudged him gently with her shoulder. "Of course I do. But it's more than that. You're not just some maverick cleaner with an SS rank hiding behind a code name. You're… you. And I like seeing you alive, healthy, not running off into another dangerous rift because someone told you to."
He looked down at his hands, fiddling with the wrapper of his bun. "Sometimes I forget… what it's like to just be… normal. To eat a meal without an alert popping up every few seconds, without a Noid signature blinking somewhere in the system."
She smiled, her hand brushing his. "Then let's make today count. No missions, no reports, no alerts. Just us, and maybe later… training these new kids, but from a distance. They can survive one day without me yelling at them."
Magnus chuckled, a little lighter than before. "I could get used to that."
"And you will," she said, tilting her head and letting a teasing grin creep onto her face. "Because I'm not letting you disappear into another mission without dinner. Not today. Not ever."
For the first time in a long while, Magnus felt that rare, grounding sense of normalcy—the kind that made all the chaos, all the battles, and even his own dark power feel… manageable, if only for a moment.
Magnus and Alexa walked toward their usual dining area, the hum of the city around them softened by the glow of streetlights and the faint scent of sizzling street food. Magnus carried the empty wrapper from his bun, tossing it into a nearby disposal unit, while Alexa's gaze wandered over the bustling streets, enjoying the rare calm of the evening.
As they approached the restaurant, they almost collided with two familiar figures standing just outside, Kaelin Navaro and Rhea Calder, talking quietly and laughing together. Alexa froze mid-step, her eyes widening in surprise.
"Wait… are they, together?" she whispered, disbelief in her tone.
Magnus glanced at them, then back at her. "Looks like it. Didn't see this coming?"
"No… not at all!" Alexa muttered, shaking her head. "Kaelin's always been so focused on strategy, and Rhea… well, she's unpredictable. I didn't expect them to, " She stopped, realizing she'd spoken aloud.
Kaelin noticed them first, straightening and offering a small, awkward wave. "Alexa! Magnus! Didn't expect to see you here." A faint blush colored his cheeks as his eyes flicked to Rhea.
Rhea, slightly flustered, smiled warmly. "Evening, Alexa. Evening, Magnus."
Alexa instinctively crossed her arms. "So… you two are dating now?" Her voice carried equal parts curiosity and playful suspicion.
Kaelin cleared his throat. "Yeah… it… happened recently. We didn't mean for it to be a secret—it just… happened."
Rhea added softly, "We weren't sure how to tell everyone yet."
Alexa blinked, processing the news, then let out a low laugh. "Well, that's… unexpected. But I suppose you two make sense together."
Magnus chuckled quietly beside her. "Looks like even the guild has its own drama going on. Good to know some things are still normal here."
Rhea looked at Magnus with cautious curiosity. "You just secretly cleared the mission. you do remember right?" There was no fear in her voice, only intrigue.
Magnus' hand tightened briefly on the railing before he relaxed. "I prefer to keep that quiet. Not everyone needs to know that."
Alexa gave him a pointed nudge. "See? He's the guild's mystery man. Some things don't need to be public knowledge."
Kaelin nodded. "Fair enough. We're just… glad you're on our side."
Kaelin Navaro leaned back slightly, curiosity in his tone. "By the way, guys… did you have a hard time adjusting with the time distortion the moment we got out of the rift?"
Rhea Calder nodded, absently stirring her drink. "Honestly… it was disorienting. Five days inside felt like… I don't know, months, or maybe minutes, it's hard to tell. My sense of time completely broke down after the first twenty hours. I kept thinking we were making progress, then realizing we'd barely moved an hour in real-world time."
Alexa sighed, leaning back against the booth. "It wasn't just that. The energy fluctuations… the way the Noids kept appearing out of nowhere, it was like the rift itself was alive, mocking us. And every time we thought we found a safe spot, it shifted again. I swear I aged three years inside those five days."
Magnus, quiet until now, finally spoke, his tone calm but weighted. "It's worse than any time anomaly I've dealt with. Not only does the rift distort time, but it also… changes perception. You don't just lose track of hours, you lose track of your own choices, your instincts, even the memory of why you're fighting. By the end, everything feels blurred together. Survival isn't just about fighting—it's about holding on to who you are."
Kaelin frowned, the memory clearly still raw. "I remember thinking… if we don't get out, even the parts of me that remember my life outside that rift… they'll feel like someone else's memories. I kept asking myself if I was still me, or if the rift had started rewriting us."
Rhea reached over, placing a hand on his arm. "I felt it too. But having someone else there, someone to remind you who you are, makes all the difference. That's why I'm glad we were together, at least for parts of it."
Alexa glanced at Magnus, who met her eyes briefly. "And… well, having him around," she added softly, "helps too. Even if he pretends he's not impressed by the chaos."
Magnus smirked faintly, shrugging. "I've seen worse. But I won't lie… five days like that will leave marks. Mental marks, physical marks, marks you don't notice until you're sitting in a normal restaurant, eating a bun, and realizing your heart is still racing."
Kaelin chuckled nervously. "Yeah… normal feels strange after that. It's almost… peaceful, but in a way that's almost alien."
Rhea laughed quietly. "Alien peace… that's one way to put it. I just hope the next rift is easier to manage."
Alexa shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Easier? Don't kid yourself. But… at least we know we can survive it. Together."
And for a moment, the four of them sat in quiet understanding, each carrying the invisible weight of five days inside a living nightmare, yet grateful for the bonds that kept them anchored when the rift tried to unravel everything.
For a moment, the weight of rifts, Noids, and Omega's reputation seemed to lift, replaced by the quiet warmth of connection. Even in a world filled with chaos, there were these small pockets of normalcy, laughter, surprise, and human bonds that reminded them why they fought.
Alexa smiled at Magnus, her eyes softening. "See? Not everything has to be serious. Sometimes… you just let people live, love, and laugh, even the Silver Owls."
Magnus returned the smile, corners of his eyes crinkling. "Yeah… sometimes, that's exactly what we need."
For a fleeting moment, they allowed themselves to exist in this world, where danger waited at the edges, but warmth and unexpected surprises filled the street.
Alexa hesitated for a moment, then laughed softly. "You know… instead of standing around awkwardly, why don't we all just go in together? Makes it easier than pretending we didn't notice each other."
Kaelin glanced at Rhea, who nodded with a small smile. "Yeah… sounds good to me," Rhea said.
Magnus raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Fine by me. But I warn you, I don't play nicely when it comes to dessert."
Alexa rolled her eyes, looping her arm through his. "Of course, you don't. That's why I keep you around."
The four of them stepped into the warm glow of the restaurant together, the chatter of patrons and the aroma of cooked meals welcoming them. Despite the rifts, the Noids, and the weight of their responsibilities, this small moment felt… human. Comfortable. Ordinary.
As they slid into a booth, Kaelin leaned back with a grin. "So… what's everyone getting? I say we try that new spice-grilled dish."
Rhea chuckled. "You and your adventurous taste… okay, I'm in. But Magnus, no eating everything before it gets to me."
Magnus feigned offense. "Hey, I've been trained to share… sometimes." He winked at Alexa, who laughed, shaking her head.
The four of them settled into easy conversation, teasing, laughing, and sharing small stories of their day. For a brief stretch of time, they weren't guild members, trainees, or elite operatives—they were just people, enjoying a simple meal together.
And somewhere deep down, Magnus allowed himself to appreciate it: that even in a world full of chaos, bonds like these, unexpected, fragile, and fleeting, were worth cherishing.
The restaurant buzzed with the low hum of conversation, the scent of grilled meats and simmering broths filling the air. Magnus and Alexa had claimed their usual booth near the corner, the soft light falling over their table. Plates of simple, hearty food were spread before them—ordinary meals, yet somehow comforting in their simplicity.
Kaelin and Rhea were already seated, their laughter easing the tension from earlier. The two Silver Owls members carried themselves with quiet competence, their camaraderie evident in every exchanged glance.
Just as Magnus reached for a cup of tea, the door opened with a quiet chime. A group of four entered, their posture rigid, uniforms precise, insignias gleaming faintly in the dim light. They were members of the Delta Vanguard, formally recognized by the Association for managing multiple rifts across the city and even abroad. Their branch now oversaw three medium-rank rifts, a responsibility that came with both authority and pride.
Kaelin's eyes flicked to them, a polite yet cautious smile forming. "Ah… looks like we've got company," he murmured to Rhea.
Rhea leaned back slightly, a playful grin tugging at her lips. "Seems they want to mingle."
Kaelin's expression shifted subtly. "Or brag about their recent accomplishments," he muttered under his breath.
"They survive the rift," Rhea said, eyebrow raised. "And now they expect applause?"
The Delta Vanguard approached, their steps measured, confident. "Evening," said a tall man with sharp features and silver hair. "We were hoping to meet the Silver Owls. Heard you've been handling the Delta Rift."
Alexa raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly over Magnus' shoulder. "These are my friends. Kaelin, Rhea… and this," she said casually, "is Magnus. Just a friend of mine."
The group's eyes flicked to Magnus, taking him in. His relaxed posture, the quiet intensity in his eyes, seemed to draw an unspoken measure of attention. They were competent and experienced—but the faint undercurrent of arrogance in their demeanor suggested they believed no one could truly surpass them.
One of the four, a broad-shouldered man with a sharp jawline, scoffed lightly. "The 55 who survived the Delta Rift, huh? Sounds impressive… but it's too many. Almost like the Association planned it just to make them famous. Really, 55 survivors from a single medium-rank rift?" He leaned back, crossing his arms, a trace of condescension in his voice.
Another chimed in, voice dripping skepticism. "I mean, we've cleared plenty of rifts ourselves. Surviving is one thing, but being 'legends'? I'm not convinced. The numbers feel inflated."
The third, a woman with piercing green eyes, nodded. "Exactly. Surviving a rift doesn't make you untouchable. I've seen so-called heroes crumble under worse."
The fourth, a younger man with an almost restless energy, added with a smirk, "And don't get me started on the stories about some… Maverick Cleaner or whatever. Sounds like guild propaganda to me. How can one person really be that strong?"
Alexa stiffened slightly but quickly smiled, not wanting to escalate tensions. "Well, surviving doesn't always come with medals," she said lightly. "Sometimes it just… means you're still here to keep going."
Magnus, quiet beside her, simply sipped his tea, his expression unreadable. He didn't need to speak. They would never know that among those 55 survivors, there was one whose feats defied every expectation, whose code name, Omega, was a secret sworn to remain hidden. And that man was right there, calmly observing their arrogance, noting the subtle details in their movements, their insignias, their weaknesses.
Kaelin leaned slightly forward, cutting through the tension. "You all do good work," he said diplomatically. "But maybe surviving isn't everything. Sometimes, it's what you do while you're alive that counts."
Rhea added, smiling softly, "And sometimes, you just need to eat your dinner without worrying about proving anything."
The Delta Vanguard members hesitated for a moment, caught between irritation and amusement, before settling into the conversation. The table filled with the low murmur of stories, strategies, and rift experiences. Magnus remained quiet, the hum of the restaurant a strange, comforting contrast to the chaos he navigated daily.
The four Delta Vanguard members shifted slightly, revealing more of themselves as the initial tension dissipated. Their uniforms, while crisp and identical in color, each bore subtle distinctions, pins, clasps, and color-coded threads that denoted rank and specialty. They were clearly used to command respect, though their rigid posture suggested a hint of overconfidence.
The tall silver-haired man, who had spoken first, exuded quiet authority. His uniform bore the insignia of a Vanguard Hunter, the highest standard rank before Apex. Known as Teyrus Vale, his piercing gray eyes scanned the room like a predator analyzing potential threats. While most Hunters of his caliber relied purely on brute strength, Teyrus was a strategist, his combat finesse bordering on the surgical. Even Magnus noted the subtle micro-adjustments in the man's stance—how he shifted weight on the balls of his feet, how his fingers brushed the edge of his holster almost unconsciously.
Beside him, the broad-shouldered man who had scoffed earlier was Graden Holt, a Specialist Hunter and Cleaner in his off-hours. His specialty lay in heavy rift material extraction and neutralization of unstable anomalies. Graden's rugged frame and scarred knuckles suggested someone accustomed to frontline work, someone who often bore the brunt of the rift's chaos to protect the rest. His confidence teetered slightly on arrogance, as if surviving rifts was validation enough for his self-worth.
The woman with piercing green eyes, Liora Kestrel, carried the poise of a Field Hunter, though she had earned her Specialist designation through exceptional precision in combat. Her specialty as a Cleaner leaned toward delicate retrieval, extracting rare elements from rifts without triggering latent hazards. Liora's sleek, dark hair fell neatly over her shoulders, her gaze sharp and calculating, taking in every detail of the room, the positioning of furniture, the unspoken interactions between people. She was the type who never wasted movement, and her reputation as "The Scalpel" preceded her.
Finally, the younger man with restless energy was Evan Myles, a Scout Hunter and apprentice-level Cleaner. His rank reflected his speed, reflexes, and uncanny ability to detect anomalies others might miss. Slightly lanky but wiry, with sandy-blonde hair that perpetually fell into his eyes, he shifted constantly from foot to foot, clearly uncomfortable in the stillness of the restaurant. Despite his youth, he carried a latent intensity, a hunger to prove himself against rifts, monsters, and even seasoned Hunters.
As the conversation around the table grew lighter, Magnus observed the unspoken hierarchy. Teyrus was the anchor, exuding authority without needing to enforce it. Graden relied on presence and size, assuming intimidation would suffice. Liora was the observer, calculating moves before committing, while Evan acted as the pulse, restless and unpredictable, reacting before others could plan.
Kaelin and Rhea exchanged subtle glances, noting the energy each brought into the room. While the Silver Owls survived as a unit, balancing personalities and strengths, the Delta Vanguard's members seemed more fractured, each shining individually but slightly out of sync as a team.
Magnus sipped his tea, letting the observation settle. He didn't need to impress these Hunters. The code name Omega, the unspoken feats, and the true mastery of rift manipulation were his alone. And while the Delta Vanguard carried rank and reputation, the quiet, understated confidence of a single survivor, the one who could operate beyond all titles, remained unmatched.
For tonight, Magnus reminded himself, the rifts could wait. There were no monsters to hunt, no material to extract, and no one needing protection. For tonight, the most dangerous presence in the room was the calm, unreadable one sipping tea at the table, unnoticed yet entirely present.
The four Delta Vanguard Hunters lingered for a moment, their stories and boasts trailing off as they realized their audience had quietly shifted. Alexa, Magnus, Kaelin, and Rhea barely glanced their way, exchanging glances that spoke louder than words. Time had changed them all.
Alexa recalled the strange sensation inside the rift, the moment they had been forcefully extracted from the Seventh Rift, and the explanations from experts about the Time Skip Anomaly. The phenomenon had left the 55 survivors disoriented, some aged five years, others five months, a few just five days. The scientists could only shrug, calling it a "twist of time," something still beyond their understanding.
For most of the 55, the adjustment had been gradual. Many retired, their lives transformed by the rewards and recognition from the government. A select few, like Alexa, remained, not for glory, but to guide the next generation of Awakened. Time had not broken them; it had reshaped them.
Kaelin adjusted his watch, a small frown crossing his face. "Still feels off," he muttered. "Like the seconds don't match what my mind remembers."
Rhea leaned back, smirking. "You get used to it. Eventually, the world catches up, or maybe we just stop caring if it does."
Magnus sipped his tea quietly, eyes unreadable. He didn't need to comment; the subtle intensity in his presence reminded everyone at the table that some experiences, like surviving the rift and mastering what came after, couldn't be explained with words.
Alexa chuckled softly. "Remember how we thought time would never let us go back? And now look… here we are, pretending everything's normal while the rest of the world moves on without even realizing."
Kaelin's lips curved into a half-smile. "Normal is just a story people tell themselves to feel safe."
Rhea added, glancing briefly at the boasting Hunters in the background, "Honestly, I don't think they even realize we've moved past all that. They just came to brag… old news, really."
Magnus set his cup down, finally speaking in his calm, measured tone. "Some things don't need explanation. You survive. You adapt. You live. That's enough."
For a moment, the hum of the restaurant was enough. The four Delta Vanguard Hunters, with their ranks and self-importance, faded into the background. Alexa, Magnus, Kaelin, and Rhea had survived anomalies no one else could understand, and no amount of posturing could change that. Time, in its strange, twisted way, had made them untouchable, not by title or rank, but by experience.
The conversation turned inward again, laughter and shared memory filling the space where arrogance once tried to stake its claim. For now, the rifts, the Hunters, and the world beyond could wait.
Just as the four Delta Vanguard Hunters began to realize their words had fallen flat, the faint buzz of encrypted communication vibrated through their wrist devices. Each of them instinctively glanced down. The alert was succinct, urgent, and unmistakable:
"RETURN TO BASE IMMEDIATELY. ALL UNITS REPORT TO HQ. PRIORITY A01."
"VANGUAR HUNTERS JUST ACRUIRED CLEARANCE TO CLEAN AND HUNT IN THE RIFT "
" LOCATED AT #42. COORDINATES: 37.7749° N, 122.4194°
Teyrus Vale's sharp gray eyes narrowed. "Looks like our evening just got… interesting," he muttered, pocketing the device.
Graden Holt cracked his knuckles, sighing. "Finally. I was starting to feel like old news here anyway."
Liora Kestrel's green eyes flicked toward the restaurant door, her expression unreadable. "Time to go. The base won't wait for our egos."
Evan Myles smirked, already moving toward the exit. "I guess the party's over," he said, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
Their destination was clear: the Vanguard's central command at the heart of the business district, only a few blocks away. The building, a sleek, reinforced structure, stood a stone's throw from the Nexus Communications Headquarters, now a towering ten-floor hub devoted entirely to rift monitoring and management. The connection between the Nexus and the Vanguard base allowed for instantaneous updates, giving them real-time tracking of anomalies across the city.
As they stepped out into the night, the quiet streets beneath the neon glow reflected the weight of duty they carried. While Alexa, Magnus, Kaelin, and Rhea continued their conversation undisturbed, the four Hunters moved with practiced precision, their focus shifting instantly from ego and bragging rights to the urgent responsibilities awaiting them at their HQ.