Max reached the summit, boots brushing against charred gravel and streaks of dried blood. He stepped to the edge of the cliff, letting the cold mountain wind hit his face.
The horizon stretched wide—layered peaks faded into gray mist, the sun bleeding through crimson clouds like a dying ember smothered by ash. Below, forests curled like sleeping beasts. The world looked untouched from here. Peaceful. Beautiful.
He turned around.
And the illusion broke.
Below him lay the bodies—twisted, broken, torn open. Blood soaked into stone, thick and black where it had begun to dry. The stench of death clung to the wind.
He moved toward the cage, stepping over bones, toward rusted bars warped from fire and claws. He crouched and scanned the ruin—ash, metal, cracked stone.
Nothing.
He exhaled and stood.
Ash approached from the side, quiet as always. His eyes swept over the battlefield, then the cage.
"So there's nothing?"
Max shook his head, jaw tight.
"They didn't leave a trace. Not even a mark."
Ash glanced at the cage again. Something caught his attention.
A twisted metal door lay half-buried in rubble. He bent down, fingers brushing grime and blood. Slowly, he lifted it.
Max's gaze snapped to the object. His eyes widened.
"Wait… right there. Look."
Ash turned the door in his hands. At the top—barely visible under soot—was a sticker.
Faded but intact.
A snake coiled in a circle, a single red eye glaring from its head. Around it, chains formed a jagged "X," almost burned into the background.
Ash stared.
"What is this?"
Max stepped closer, his voice low.
"That symbol belongs to a cult. Unknown name. Far sector. Far from here. No one thought they'd make it this deep."
He took a step back.
"I need to send word to Headquarters. This changes everything."
Ash kept staring at the sticker. Then, without a word, he peeled it off and folded it into his coat.
Max looked at the sky, pale and empty for now—but not for long.
"We need to move. The carrion birds don't stay gone."
He started down the slope.
Ash lingered at the edge, casting one last look at the bloodied cage, then to the mountains bleeding into mist.
He turned and followed.
The wind howled behind them.
————
Cheers echoed from below as Max and Ash descended the final ridge. Faces turned upward, relief spreading across them like warmth after frost.
Ash's eyes scanned ahead.
The settlement sat snug in the valley—small, scarred, alive.
Wooden walls surrounded it, patched in places with scrap metal and bones of creatures long dead. Sharp poles jutted from the palisade, some scorched black, others stained with dried blood. There were no guns. Just rusted swords and bent spears clutched in tired hands. Still, they'd survived. That alone was something.
A man stepped forward to meet them. Thin frame, heavy eyes, smile stretched too wide for someone who hadn't slept in days. Dirt clung to his clothes, and his voice cracked as he spoke.
"Team Vortex… thank you. If you hadn't come when you did…"
Max didn't smile.
"Don't thank us elder,"
he said, stepping past the man.
"We're not heroes. Just what's left when no one else comes. And plus we still lost people."
Ash's gaze moved to the edge of the square. His eyes narrowed.
There, on a wooden crate, Kael sat cross-legged. Around him, children huddled close—mud on their knees, bandages on their arms, but smiles on their faces.
Kael's hands moved as he spoke, like a performer spinning fire with his words. The kids watched, wide-eyed, clinging to every word. Laughter rose from the group.
Ash tilted his head, eyebrows slightly raised.
Max followed his gaze. A twitch pulled at his mouth.
"That's... strange to see."
"Yeah," Ash said.
The elder stepped beside them, watching the same scene.
"They were quiet before, Couldn't get a word from them. Then your brother showed up, sat down, and just… made them laugh. Haven't seen them smile since this nightmare started."
Max said nothing.
The sound of children laughing filled the square. Against the backdrop of blood-stained walls and burned wood, it felt like a flicker of light that refused to go out.
Max exhaled slowly, brushing dust off his shoulder. His voice dropped low, steady.
"Elder. Tell me about the bandits. One of the survivors said they come every month. When did it all start?"
The elder's gaze drifted toward the settlement, toward the patched walls and burned watchposts.
"A year ago. They came like smoke—no warning. Hooded figures wearing masks with one blood-red eye. That first night…"
His voice thinned.
"They didn't speak. Just killed. Then, when they came again, they asked for payment. Points. Lives. I think they enjoy watching us squirm."
Max's eyes narrowed.
"And no word to headquarters or the military? No call for Soulcore users?"
The elder shook his head, slow.
"We tried. The moment we reached out, they knew. Don't ask how because we also don't know. They stormed in and burned the relay station. Said next time we ask for help, they'll wipe us all out. After that, we stopped. Sent a few out on foot months ago to find anyone who could help. When no one returned…"
He shrugged, a hollow gesture.
"We thought they were gone too. Seeing you here feels like… luck. A miracle, maybe."
Max rubbed at his temple, jaw tight.
"You've been through hell."
He glanced back at Ash, then toward the smoking trail that led up the mountain.
"I'll inform headquarters myself. This is bigger than some roving gang. The military will take interest, especially if there's cult involvement. I'll leave protection bots here—light guardians, motion-triggered. Won't stop everything, but it'll buy you time if they come back."
The elder bowed deep, arms stiff at his sides.
"Thank you… truly."
Max took a step, then paused, pointing toward the splintered wooden wall.
"And replace that. Wood won't hold forever. Stone, iron—use whatever you can scavenge. If the creatures don't get through it, the next group of bandits will."
The elder nodded again, this time with purpose in his eyes.
"We'll rebuild. Stronger."
Ash stood nearby, silent.
But in the space between the words, the weight of it all settled into the dirt beneath them.
The war never really ended. It just moved from place to place, dragging its claws behind it.
Max glanced toward the cluster of children near the broken wall.
"Kael,"
he called out.
"We're heading out."
A chorus of disappointed groans rose from the kids.
Kael flashed a grin.
"Don't look so gloomy. Train hard, and maybe you'll grow up to be as strong as me—Son of Flame."
Ash let out a long breath and looked away.
Max folded his arms.
"Get moving or we're leaving you behind. Hope you like walking through carrion nests alone."
Kael raised both hands.
"Alright, alright, I hear you!"
He turned back to the kids, voice softening.
"My father's up in space right now. Top-level mission. Oh and guess who the first team to be sent off-world?"
He jabbed a thumb at his chest.
"Team Vortex."
The kids' eyes widened. One of them raised his hand, barely able to stay still.
"Can I join Team Vortex one day?"
Kael bent slightly, looking him in the eyes.
"Of course you can. Just remember—don't stop training. Doesn't matter if your Vessel Tier is low. Push your limits. Pick a progression skills and grind until it becomes part of you. That's how I did it."
The group broke into excited chatter, voices overlapping in dreams of future glory.
Kael straightened.
"Time for me to go. My brothers are waiting."
He turned, dust trailing from his boots as he made his way toward the others.
A small voice cut through the hum of chatter behind him.
"Thank you, Kael! I'll train hard—really hard!"
He paused at the edge of the gate, shoulders rising with a breath. Then he looked back.
The kid stood there, hand raised high, eyes burning with something more than admiration—something real.
Kael raised his hand in return.
"I'll be watching,"
he said, voice steady.
"Don't let this world break you. Break it first."
With that, he turned and walked into the wind, the scorched sky casting long shadows behind him as Team Vortex regrouped at the edge of the settlement, ready to vanish into the unknown once again.