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"The report says they were repairing a subway line when the distortion manifested. Three individuals are trapped. Their exact coordinates are shifting, so we need to find them and extract them immediately. Every second we lose increases their exposure risk exponentially."
Zhu Yuan explained the situation while weaving through traffic. She had the pedal to the floor, pushing the patrol car to 120 kilometers per hour. Any faster in this sector and they'd be trading one rescue mission for a high-speed collision.
Hollows were like that—capricious, sudden, and indifferent. The only thing humanity could do was use high-tech predictive systems to monitor Ether fluctuations and evacuate target zones. But technology has its limits; a small number of "unavoidable sacrifices" remained a grim reality of life in New Eridu.
"Kenji, we need to be fast. Even for those with decent Ether-Aptitude, staying inside too long leads to permanent neurological sequelae. Some never truly recover," Qingyi said, her usual playful demeanor replaced by a cold, professional edge.
She needed the newcomer to understand the stakes. Even if a victim was rescued, the Ether would have already begun its work. Unless their constitution was strong enough to adapt, they would develop chronic illnesses or suffer a significantly shortened lifespan—if they didn't mutate into Ethereals first.
"It's like extreme radiation," Kenji muttered.
He understood the logic. The STF combat suits were essentially high-tech hazmat gear, allowing them to remain healthy in environments that would melt a normal person's lungs. Most people didn't enter Hollows like this; the standard Hollow Investigation Bureau teams were encased in heavy, airtight suits with oxygen tanks and full-face visors. Even the regular PSB units wore those "grasshopper" helmets—clunky, metallic masks that were as ugly as they were functional.
Zhu Yuan and Qingyi, however, were exceptions. Zhu Yuan was a New Eridu legend with an off-the-charts Ether-Aptitude. Even so, she wore a specialized metal headband to help resist corrosion. She refused the full helmet, claiming it restricted the peripheral vision necessary for her super-sensory combat predictions. Qingyi was even simpler: she was a synthetic construct. Her body was built from anti-corrosive alloys. If a limb got too "corroded," she could simply swap it for a new part at the shop.
Kenji had been offered one of those hideous grasshopper helmets, but after trying it on, he'd almost suffocated from the lack of style. Once you've worn a Kamen Rider mask, it's hard to go back to "budget government surplus."
The patrol car screeched to a halt outside the cordon of a Temporary Hollow. The officers on-site recognized the STF markings and immediately opened the roadblock. New Eridu's response was a well-oiled machine; the moment a distortion was detected, the area was sealed.
Some Hollows, however, were just left to sit if they showed no signs of expansion. Kenji had seen a post on the Inter-Knot about an old man who had a Temporary Hollow manifest five meters from his bedroom window. He'd lived with it for years, treating the colorful, swirling darkness as a unique piece of "moving scenery."
This time, the trio entered the Hollow together. They didn't fall from a hundred meters; instead, they materialized on the roof of a three-story building. Kamen Riders and rooftops were a match made in heaven, so Kenji felt right at home. Zhu Yuan was already on her comms, trying to ping the subway workers' location.
"Any luck, Captain?" Qingyi asked.
"The local interference is too high. The device's computing power is being throttled by the spatial shifts," Zhu Yuan said, shaking her head. "We can't wait for a clean signal. We search on foot."
Current tech still struggled to find human traces within the chaotic data of a Hollow. Zhu Yuan wasn't the type to wait outside for a miracle. To her, every minute wasted was a minute the victims spent being hunted by Ethereals.
The three descended to the street level, moving with practiced caution. But a team of three in the void was like a flare in the dark.
Roar!
A beast-type Ethereal lunged from the shadows, followed by a surging swarm. This welcoming ceremony was even louder than the last one.
"Three high-level signals," Qingyi said, her eyes narrowing as she extended her three-section staff. She spotted a trio of Durahans moving in formation within the pack.
"They're hunting," Zhu Yuan noted, her voice calm. "They smelled us the moment we entered."
Ethereals were public enemies for a reason. They were drawn to human auras like sharks to blood. Rumor had it that humans with high Ether-Aptitude—like Zhu Yuan—were "delicious" targets. The monsters instinctively wanted to corrupt strong individuals to turn them into even more powerful Ethereals.
"No wonder we're always popular," Kenji muttered.
Zhu Yuan glanced at him, and Kenji immediately offered a crisp salute of "respect." She just shook her head, chambered a round in her pistol, and charged.
Kenji lunged forward right alongside her. In this moment, he allowed himself to be partial. To put it bluntly for Qingyi: even if she was torn apart, as long as they recovered her head, she'd be back in a new body by next week. But Zhu Yuan? Protecting her was his absolute priority.
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