Buzzing with adrenaline, Russell and Gareth turned to leave the mission desk, already discussing their route to the Blackwood Area. Their footsteps were loud and uncoordinated, each step fueled purely by the electric rush of receiving their first assignment. Gareth practically bounced with excitement, waving the data-slate in the air as he babbled about stealth formations and recon strategies he barely remembered from training modules. Russell tried to listen, but his mind kept drifting to the reality that they were finally stepping beyond simulation and into danger.
In his excitement, Gareth wasn't watching where he was going and slammed hard into a broad, armored chest.
The impact made a heavy thunk, like hitting a metal pillar, and Gareth stumbled backward so violently he nearly fell.
"Did you not have eyes, you little bastard?" a cold, arrogant voice sneered.
The voice had a weight to it—smug, bored, and offended all at once. Gareth rubbed his shoulder with a wince. "Hey, you were standing in the way! It's not my fault!"
Russell's blood ran cold before Gareth even finished talking.
The man Gareth had bumped was flanked by two hulking, monstrous figures that radiated menace—Apex-class Hollows, bound to him as pets. Their hulking forms loomed half a head taller than Russell, their bodies a disturbing combination of muscle, stone-like plating, and flickering dark matter veins. They didn't move. They didn't growl. But their glowing eyes locked onto Gareth, promising dismemberment with a single wrong breath.
Russell swallowed hard and subtly reached for Emma's hilt, though he knew drawing it now would be suicide.
The man, tall and clad in ornate, black-and-gold armor, smirked. His presence felt like a blade—sharp, cold, and always pressed to your throat. "You know, rookie, who you're talking to?"
One of the lackeys beside him puffed out his chest. He was shorter, bulkier, and oozed sycophantic pride. "Get lost, rookies! You know who this is? This is the great 'Zack Vaultor'! Aka the Grand Master! Magus rank!"
A small crowd of rookies nearby murmured, clearly recognizing the title. People stepped back instantly, whispering with a mix of awe and fear. Even the ambient chatter of the hall seemed to fade.
Zack's smirk widened. He looked Russell and Gareth up and down like they were trash cluttering the floor. "Well, well. After that display of disrespect, I'm not thinking I'll let you go without a lesson in manners."
Energy began to coalesce in his hand, the air around them crackling as he started to materialize a vicious-looking weapon—condensing raw ether into a deadly spear-like form.
Gareth tensed. Russell took a protective half-step in front of him, heart pounding. Every instinct screamed at him to unsheathe Emma, but he forced himself to stay still. A Magus-level aura pressed down on them like gravity doubling.
Before the weapon could fully form, a sound like shattering glass split the air.
CRRRR-CHHHHHK!
A spear made of pure, glistening ice materialized from nowhere and slammed into the durasteel floor, embedding itself an inch from Zack's boot with a thunderous metallic crack.
Russell's first thought was Maria, but the energy was different. This wasn't serene or balanced. This was colder, sharper, more… absolute. A killing intent wrapped in winter.
Zack flinched back, his concentration broken as the ice spear radiated frost across the floor. "Who dares—?!"
A new voice cut in, cold and dripping with disdain. "Stop your lower-class shit bullying, Vaultor."
The crowd pivoted instantly. Out stepped a woman—moving with the precision of someone who didn't have to force people to respect her. People simply did. Her armor was a deep, glacial blue, elegant yet deadly. Frost curled around her boots with every step. Her silver hair was tied back into a sleek braid that swayed behind her like a banner of war.
Victoria Spencer.
Her expression wasn't angry; it was bored, as if Zack's entire personality annoyed her on a molecular level.
"This is not your schoolyard," she added.
Zack recovered his stance, but the confidence in his expression had cracked. "Really? Come on, darling, why do you care about these two specks of—"
FWOOSH!
A burning arrow, wreathed in crimson fire, passed so close to Zack's face that it singed a strand of his hair. The air hummed with the violent heat of it. The arrow wasn't fired by Victoria's hand. It had appeared from a swirling portal of flame that had opened beside her shoulder—created with no visible effort.
The smell of ozone filled the hallway.
She didn't raise her voice. It was a low, deadly whisper that carried across the entire hall. "Don't. You. Dare. Finish that sentence. The next one won't miss."
The entire corridor froze. Even Zack's Apex Hollows took a half-step back on instinct.
Zack's face paled just enough to be noticeable beneath his arrogance. He glared at her, anger simmering but tightly leashed. "This isn't over, Spencer."
With a sharp gesture, he signaled his lackeys and his monstrosities. They stalked away, boots clanking against the metal floor, the crowd parting for them like the sea fleeing a storm.
Only when they were gone did the hall breathe again.
Russell let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Huh… thanks for the help, miss," he managed to say, trying not to sound terrified.
The woman—Victoria Spencer—didn't even look at them. She simply waved a hand. The ice spear melted into a swirl of cold vapor, and the remains of the fire arrow burst into embers before fading.
She turned and walked away without a single word, silence forming a perfect path through the busy hall as people instinctively gave her space. Her presence alone was enough to push the air aside.
Gareth, wide-eyed, turned to a nearby veteran hunter who had watched the whole exchange. "Who… who is she?"
The hunter let out a low whistle, his tone equal parts admiration and pity. "That's Victoria Spencer. Arguably the most powerful active Hunter in The Crucible. They call her the Arch Alchemist. Her mastery over elemental manifestation is… unnatural." He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "And a fun fact for you rookies: that Zack guy you just pissed off? He's probably the most powerful in the current male ranks. But he's always getting put in his place by her."
Gareth gulped. "Holy… okay. Okay, yeah. We nearly died."
"Nearly?" the veteran snorted. "If Spencer hadn't stepped in, you two would've been stains on the floor. Now get out of here before you find more trouble."
Shaken but immensely grateful, Russell and Gareth exchanged a look. Gareth's usual goofy smile was gone, replaced by stiff shock. Russell's fingers trembled slightly as he touched Emma's hilt, grounding himself.
Their first mission had almost ended before it began, thanks to an ego they didn't even know existed.
As they hurried toward the armory, the reality of the hierarchy and dangers within The Crucible settled on their shoulders like a weight. They weren't just rookies. They were ants walking among giants—some noble, some monstrous, all powerful.
And yet…
Their first mission awaited.
And they walked toward it with renewed awareness—and unshaken determination.