The air was heavy with tension, the kind that made even seasoned agents uneasy.
The temporary camp, set up near the portal, buzzed with the soft sounds of metal and fabric clinking in the night.
The sky above was shrouded in dark clouds, casting an unnatural gloom over the landscape.
Beyond the camp's perimeter, the crumbling ruins of the Limbus Company's backstreets spread out like a forgotten city, a place where the nightmares of this world and the last collided.
They were waiting.
Waiting for the Night in the Backstreets event to conclude so they could head back into the fray.
No one quite understood what triggered the event, but they all knew its significance.
The sweepers would disappear, and the madness would cease, allowing the team to finish their mission.
The camp was silent, save for the occasional rustle of rations being opened or the low hum of electronic equipment.
Bright was sitting on a crate, legs stretched out in front of him, wiping the sweat from his brow.
His dark green fatigues were stained with grime and blood.
He hadn't even bothered to remove his coat, though it was a little too hot for comfort.
His hand rested on the rifle beside him, but his mind was elsewhere, always calculating the next step, the next danger.
Clef leaned against a nearby support beam, the smell of cheap cigar smoke lingering in the air as he took a slow drag.
His usually carefree demeanor had been replaced by a rare moment of quiet contemplation.
Volt and Pyre sat near the campfire, their faces illuminated by the flickering light.
Volt, compact and full of energy, was absentmindedly tapping her fingers against her armor, sending small sparks into the air.
Pyre sat cross-legged, his green eyes distant, watching the fire as if it held the answers to the madness they had just survived.
Cain, ever the stoic, was perched on the edge of a crate, silent as ever, his gaze scanning the surrounding area with a quiet intensity.
And then, through the haze of smoke and quiet conversation, they all felt it.
The familiar presence. The one that made the hairs on the back of their necks stand on end.
Kay.
Leader of the first team.
His footsteps were soft, barely audible against the windswept gravel, but they knew it was him the moment he entered their space.
The team didn't need to exchange looks.
There was no mistaking the gravity of his presence.
Kay stood at the edge of the camp, his mask gleaming under the artificial lights.
His posture was relaxed, but there was something unnervingly still about him.
For a moment, everything paused as the agents glanced toward him.
Clef was the first to break the silence, his voice low but laced with sarcasm. "You're a sight for sore eyes, Kay. I thought you were done with the first portal."
Kay simply nodded in response, his silent gaze sweeping over the team.
"Where's the rest of your squad?" Bright asked, his voice calm, though his brow furrowed slightly.
Kay tilted his head. "They were still in the portal"
"Figures" Clef muttered, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You're always the first one to come back, huh?"
Volt, ever the curious one, finally pushed herself up from her seat.
Her silver-white hair crackled with faint static as she approached, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "What was it like?" she asked, her voice filled with an unspoken challenge. "The other side?"
Kay's mask remained unreadable, but the weight of his gaze said enough.
He wasn't going to answer.
Pyre gave Volt a sharp look, his expression unreadable as usual, before speaking up. "Don't expect him to spill any details. He's as tight-lipped as they come."
Volt just chuckled, rolling her eyes. "I get that. But I can't help it, I'm curious. You never know what Kay's seen out there."
She turned her attention to the rest of the team. "So, what do we do now? Just wait for the all-clear?"
Bright nodded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Yeah. Thirty more minutes. The sweepers should be gone by then. We get in, finish the mission, and get out."
Kay said nothing, his hands resting at his sides.
The silence stretched between them like an unspoken understanding.
He wasn't here for idle chatter, but he was present.
His very presence commanded respect, like a silent promise that when the time came, he'd be there to get the job done.
Clef finally broke the quiet again, throwing a playful glance toward the campfire. "If you're staying, you might as well make yourself useful, Kay. We can't sit here all night looking at each other."
Kay's mask tilted slightly toward Clef, but he didn't respond.
Instead, he simply stepped forward, pulling out a seat and sitting near the fire without a word.
Volt raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.
If Kay was sitting down, it meant business.
For all the quips and teasing that went on in the team, they knew Kay never took a break unless it was absolutely necessary.
As the camp resumed its rhythm, some talking, others checking gear, the minutes dragged on.
The quiet hum of the portal stood in the background, a constant reminder that their mission was far from over.
At the edge of the camp, the sky above seemed to stretch impossibly wide, shrouded in shadow. But there was a strange stillness in the air, like the calm before a storm.
And then, the rift in the sky flickered.
The rift wasn't done with them yet.
Kay stood first, his mask reflecting the flickering lights of the campfire. He moved with quiet precision, every step purposeful.
The rest of the team followed, moving like a well-oiled machine.
Bright turned to the group, his voice low but steady.
"Let's finish this."
...
The camp was quiet now, with only the sounds of the occasional crackling fire and the hum of distant machinery in the air.
The team had been briefed on the mission, but they all knew the worst was yet to come.
The night had passed slowly, and now the sky was a faint shade of purple as the first hints of morning light began to break through.
It was 6 a.m., and the air was damp and cold, typical of the desolate, decaying world they'd been sent into.
Kay stood by the portal, his arms crossed as he took in the ruined city before them.
The events of the previous night had left their mark on everyone.
The weight of the mission still hung in the air, but now there was an odd calmness to the moment.
No one spoke much.
Even Clef, usually brimming with sarcastic remarks, had grown silent.
The rest of the team did their best to focus on the task at hand, even if the situation around them felt like a waiting game.
"We're going in" Kay said quietly, his voice carrying over the low chatter of the camp.
His words were simple, but everyone knew it meant the mission was about to get serious again.
With a nod from Bright, the team gathered their things, checking their weapons and supplies.
The portal was still open, flickering slightly as the crackling energies surged around it.
There were no more sweepers for now, the city beyond relatively still.
Kay led the way, stepping confidently into the portal.
The others followed suit, entering the strange world once more.
As they stepped out of the portal, the familiar ruin of the backstreets greeted them, the twisted, half-collapsed buildings lining the alleyways, the occasional sound of distant, unknown creatures echoing from within the darkness.
The air had an unnatural stillness, the kind of eerie quiet that only a world like this could bring.
Kay glanced around, the team falling into line behind him.
His mask caught the faint light as they moved, his presence calm and unbothered.
Despite the gravity of the mission, there was something about him that always made the others feel like everything was under control.
"You guys ready?" Clef asked, his voice cutting through the silence.
"Yeah," Pyre replied shortly, his usual expression unreadable.
Volt's eyes darted around the desolate streets, always on edge but focused. "Let's get this over with."
They moved deeper into the city, their steps deliberate, scanning every corner. They hadn't been walking long when something caught Kay's attention.
In the distance, a figure stood against the backdrop of a half-collapsed building.
She seemed almost out of place in the desolate setting, poised, yet entirely detached from the ruin around her.
Kay signaled to the group to stop.
The figure was a woman, average height, her bobbed black hair framing her sharp red eyes.
She stood with a strange grace, her black coat flowing behind her, a sheathed ōdachi resting against her back, the golden hilt catching the faint light.
She was leaning against a crumbling wall, a cigarette dangling from her lips.
Her presence felt almost... artistic in this broken landscape, like an odd contrast to the decay.
"Who's that?" Volt whispered, squinting as she observed the woman.
"She's not one of the sweepers," Clef muttered, tapping his fingers against his gun.
Kay stepped forward first, his calm demeanor unshaken.
As always, he kept his distance, observing the figure before approaching.
His hand instinctively rested on his weapon, but it was clear he wasn't expecting a fight.
The woman didn't move at first, her eyes narrowing as if she had sensed their approach.
Then, slowly, she took a long drag from her cigarette and exhaled, the smoke curling in the air.
"Got a problem with my art?" she asked, her voice flat, almost bored. "Or are you here to appreciate it?"
The team tensed, but Kay didn't flinch. He regarded her for a moment, then spoke calmly. "We're here on business. Not interested in your art."
Ryoshu chuckled softly, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips. "Business? How quaint." She took another drag of her cigarette. "You'll have to forgive me. I don't do business."
Clef raised an eyebrow. "Who are you, exactly?"
"Name's Ryoshu," she replied with a shrug, her eyes flicking toward the group. "I don't usually entertain company, but I'm feeling generous. Consider this a favor."
Kay studied her quietly, then gave a slight nod. "Generosity's rare in a place like this."
Ryoshu's grin widened, though there was something unsettling about it. "You'd be surprised how often it shows up. But, then again, people like you wouldn't know anything about art."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Volt asked, irritated.
Ryoshu's eyes flashed, and she tilted her head slightly. "I mean, you're all just... puppets of your own intentions, aren't you? But no matter. You're here for something else, I assume?" Her gaze moved past them, as if the conversation didn't matter at all.
"We're looking for something," Kay replied, his tone neutral.
"Of course you are," Ryoshu said dismissively. "Well, here's my advice: Don't go poking around in places where you don't belong. Not everyone here is as friendly as me."
"I'm not here for your advice," Clef muttered.
Ryoshu rolled her eyes but said nothing, instead flicking the ashes from her cigarette.
She stepped away from the wall, the golden hilt of her ōdachi gleaming in the light. "Suit yourselves. But remember, art's not something to be trifled with."
With that, she turned and began to walk away, her coat fluttering behind her.
Kay's gaze lingered on her for a moment before he motioned for the team to continue. As they moved forward, Clef muttered under his breath, "I'm starting to dislike her already."
"Stay focused," Kay replied simply.
They moved deeper into the backstreets with the intension of at least learning about the common sense of this place first, Ryoshu's words echoing in their minds.