SSS Rank: Spellcraft Sovereign-Chapter 142: First Day (2)

Cas was already moving. "Standard response?"

"Field mop," Myles said, already keying in his badge. "Support backline, single sweep. Clear and confirm."

Lucen stood with the others. He didn’t say anything. Just slung his coat over one arm and tapped the side of his neck where his system chimed soft approval.

[Mission Flagged: Drift Breach - Sector 4C - Surface Containment]

He glanced at it. Duration window: 40 minutes. Minor threat rating. No bosses tagged.

’Mop-up. Casual.’

Lane bounced in place once, like his boots had a spring setting.

Lucen muttered, "You always this excited to clean?"

"Only when it’s actual monsters," Lane said. "Cleaning duty in the admin block sucks way worse."

Cas didn’t smile, but her mouth twitched. "He’s not wrong."

—

The walk to the outer exit tunnel was short. Just two corridors past the gear lockers, a lift shaft that still smelled faintly of sulfur from a failed rift two weeks prior, and a decontam arch that flickered once as they passed.

Myles walked in front, back straight, gloves already powered. His system glyphs hovered above his wrist, low pulsing blue. Stability glyphs. Defender type. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝓮𝒘𝙚𝙗𝒏𝙤𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝒐𝙢

Cas walked beside him, glancing down every so often to sync her scan array. Light mana. Recon-heavy. She didn’t need to lead; she just always knew what was coming.

Lane was behind them. Talking.

"I’m just saying," he said, voice louder now that the hallway was empty, "if it’s not manglers, it’s gonna be those goo things. The ones that look like they’re made of expired energy drinks."

Cas didn’t turn. "Plasma jellies. And that’s not what they look like."

Lucen added, "They smell like burnt hair and fruit punch."

Lane pointed at him. "Exactly."

Lucen tapped the corner of his interface. "How many are flagged?"

Cas checked. "Fifteen signals. All minor. Spread out. No core."

"Fan sweep?" Myles asked.

Cas nodded. "Wide arc. Lucen middle. Lane far right. I’ll ping locs."

Lucen cracked his knuckles once. "No special rules?"

"Don’t die," Myles said, voice flat.

Lane added, "And if you see something shiny, call dibs out loud."

—

They hit the breach gate just as the glyph seal collapsed. A faint hiss of ozone filled the air. Lucen felt it in his teeth.

Beyond the gate, the breach zone looked like a twisted warehouse. Old staging yard, long since decommissioned.

Rusted support beams. Mana scars along the floor. And a low mist crawling through the gaps like fog from a leaky cauldron.

Lucen stepped through and let his system update.

[Zone Hazard: Active Contamination — Level: 2]

He didn’t flinch. Just blinked once and activated [Threadmask].

Illusion shimmer. A second Lucen blinked into view, four feet off to the left. It moved as he moved, offset and dancing like a broken reflection.

Lane whistled. "Ooh, you brought the toy."

"Distraction," Lucen muttered. "Not a toy."

"Same thing if it sparkles."

The mist thickened. Cas raised her hand once, pointed.

"Left cluster. Three. Moving slow."

Lucen moved with the team, steps even, quiet, eyes sweeping every surface.

Then they saw it.

First creature came into view near an old cargo lift. Pale hide, folded limbs, mouth like a broken glass bottle turned inside out. Thin arms. Ridges along its spine. Walking too low, too fast.

Cas whispered, "Shivlers."

Lane groaned. "Ugh. Ugly cousins of manglers."

Lucen locked onto the lead one. Then flicked [Soundlash] forward—targeted for the joints.

The screech it made was somewhere between metal tearing and a baby screaming.

Lucen flinched.

’God, that’s worse than usual.’

The shivler skidded back, hit a pipe, and collapsed. Not dead. But not moving right.

Lane leapt forward, set a glyph under it and the creature jerked upright as binding roots slammed through its legs.

Cas cut the second one down mid-lunge.

Lucen hit the third with [Burn Logic], watched as its sensory lines melted away into static.

Done.

Myles spoke quietly. "One cluster down. Next group, ten meters north."

Lane flicked his fingers. "I’ll race you."

Lucen didn’t bother replying.

He just moved.

—

The next engagement wasn’t quiet.

Three of them were already mid-charge when Lucen’s group reached the turn in the corridor.

Lane shouted, "I got high left!" and launched.

A copy of him appeared mid-air, smirking, arms wide, and the first shivler dove for it like it had something to prove.

Didn’t matter. It blew itself into the ceiling when the embedded rune in the illusion detonated.

Cas fired something across the line, staggering the other two, and Lucen followed up with [Null Reversal] on the closest one’s leap.

The moment the creature jumped, its weight slammed backward instead, flipping it midair and sending it crashing spine-first into a stack of collapsed shelves.

Lane laughed. "Damn! What spell was that?"

Lucen shrugged. "Just good timing."

Lane muttered, "Liar," but he was smiling.

—

The last creature wasn’t smart.

It saw Lane.

It ran.

Right into Myles’ fist.

The impact cracked something in the floor.

Lucen muttered, "’Don’t die,’ he says."

Myles stood over the twitching body. "Still standing."

—

The breach sealed five minutes later.

The mist thinned. Lucen’s interface pinged.

[Drift Zone Cleared. Log: 15 Eliminated. Time: 13:42]

Cas let out a breath. "Fastest we’ve done. And with a new recruit."

Lane clapped Lucen on the back. "Ghostweave, huh? Gotta say, you’re more fun than I thought."

Lucen shook his hand off. "That’s probably the nicest insult I’ve gotten."

Cas tapped her badge. "Let’s head back. Debrief. Log XP. And maybe, finally, finish lunch."

Lucen looked back at the bodies.

Then whispered, "’Half a meal and a live op.’ Not bad."

—

The door hissed open, and warm air hit Lucen’s face like a soft blanket dipped in fried oil and old paper receipts.

The lobby didn’t smell like a battlefield. It smelled like mana-vent reheats and someone’s takeout from the food court downstairs. A hint of noodles. Maybe dumplings.

Behind him, Cas adjusted her collar and rolled one shoulder back.

"Fifteen bodies," she muttered. "All clean. That has to be some kind of record."

Myles let out a long, wheezing breath. "Only record I care about is how fast I can get to a bench without passing out."

Lane snorted. "You didn’t even tank. You stood behind me the whole time casting arm buffs."

Myles shrugged. "And look how well that worked out."