Rael stepped out of his dimly lit room, letting the door slide shut behind him with a soft mechanical click. The soft hum of the Harbringer HQ's systems buzzed in the background, ever present. He adjusted the strap of his black cargo sling bag across his chest and checked the sleeves of his oversized, off-white hoodie that had bold red lettering stitched across the back: "NO FATE". Underneath, he wore a charcoal-gray compression shirt, tight against his skin, tracing his lean but toned frame. His black joggers sagged just slightly, tucked into worn-out sneakers that had seen more than just the polished floors of the facility.
He glanced at himself in the slim mirror hanging on his room's wall and grinned. Not bad for a supposed Eidolon rookie.
He stepped into the sleek elevator, which hissed softly as it closed. As it descended, Rael took a deep breath. His first mission was today. The thought stuck to his ribs like ice. The elevator opened with a ding, revealing the bustling, wide corridor of the Harbringers' lower deck—a hidden city nestled beneath the surface.
This part of the HQ was raw and alive, like a secret world humming under the crust of reality. Steel pathways crossed overhead like veins, carrying people and gear. Neon signs buzzed on cracked walls. Pipes hissed. The air smelled like metal, oil, and coffee. And amidst it all were the Harbringers—men and women walking with purpose, faces grim, eyes sharp.
Rael walked the path he was slowly becoming used to—towards the massive steel gate that bore the Harbringer symbol: a stylized H encircled by thirteen rings.
He paused for a second before it, remembering how he first arrived here. Just two days ago, dragged unconscious, a bag over his head, only to wake up beneath this very building. Now, he was walking out of it like a soldier.
The gate rumbled as it opened.
Ethan and Seth were already there.
Rael blinked. The two looked like they'd walked straight out of a street gang from a cyberpunk anime.
Ethan wore a loose black bomber jacket over a sleeveless white hoodie, with acid-wash jeans cut off at the ankles, showing thick, chunky sneakers. He had dark fingerless gloves on and a utility belt that hung more for fashion than for function. His silver ear cuffs gleamed against his tan skin.
Seth, on the other hand, had a green baseball jacket with gold lining and a half-zipped mesh hoodie under it. His jogger pants were paint-splattered, and his green high-tops glowed faintly at the sole—some kind of cheap neon tech. He had a pair of goggles strapped lazily on his messy hair, giving him the look of a mechanic who never went to school.
"Am I late?" Rael asked, approaching them with a half-smile.
Ethan scoffed. "Nah. We just got out too."
Rael nodded, then walked between them as the massive gate creaked shut behind. Ethan tilted his head, nodding toward the alley ahead. "They said we got a car waiting to take us to the mission."
The three of them started walking through the tight corridor. This part of the underground was less polished—like the HQ stopped trying to look cool and decided to show its bones. A long alley stretched before them, lit only by flickering blue lamps hanging from chains above.
At the far end, just before a sealed service elevator, Ethan took the lead. His voice echoed a single word.
"Kurorei."
The steel elevator let out a mechanical groan, then instantly hummed to life. The floor vibrated as it dropped from the ceiling above, light bleeding from its frame. A moment later, the three of them stepped inside, and the elevator rocketed upward.
Rael had almost forgotten—they were underneath a real-world abandoned building, long since erased from government records. Outside, the sun blazed against the worn concrete and rusted glass of the old world. Birds scattered as the green metal car idled just by the curb.
They squinted at the sudden light.
Rael shielded his eyes and blinked. "Ugh. Bright."
Ethan frowned. "Why the hell is the car lime green? Who paints a mission vehicle lime green?"
Seth laughed and jogged ahead. "They really don't care about stealth, huh?"
But as Seth yanked the door open, he jumped back in mild surprise. Inside, behind the wheel, sat a man in a faded yellow polo, sleeves rolled up, aviators on, a wrinkled paper hat barely balanced on his head. He was chewing gum and reading an old magazine.
He wore a taxi driver badge.
"No way..." Seth's face fell. "I thought I was driving!"
Ethan rolled his eyes. "You're fifteen, Seth. We're underage."
Seth spun on him. "I can drive! I taught myself! I've done more dangerous things than this!"
Rael snorted. "Like crashing hover drones into vending machines?"
Seth was about to argue, but the driver interrupted without even looking up. "Just get in the car, kids."
"Kids?" Ethan and Seth said in unison, deeply offended.
Still, they climbed in, each taking a seat in the back with a little too much attitude. Rael slid in beside them and shut the door.
The driver shifted gears. "No talking. I've got a podcast on. Buckle up."
And just like that, the car pulled out onto the cracked road, headed toward whatever mission the Harbringers had decided to throw them into.
Rael leaned back, watching the buildings blur past, the wind tugging gently at the loose strands of his hoodie.
The taxi moved through the winding city outskirts like a ghost gliding out of civilization, the road slowly giving way to dirt and gravel, then to creeping vines and cracked stones. Inside the vehicle, each of them existed in their own little world.
Seth leaned against the window, oversized headset blaring music loud enough for Rael to hear the bassline vibrating faintly from her seat. She mouthed the lyrics, drumming her fingers along her baggy jeans. Her skateboard, scratched with neon graffiti, sat on her lap like a loyal pet.
Ethan sat with his arms crossed, trying to ignore her. His brows twitched in annoyance with every off-key note Seth sang aloud.
Rael, in his faded gray hoodie and patched cargo jacket, kept staring outside. The unknown pressed against the windows like fog, but beneath the nerves fluttering in his chest, there was… excitement. For the first time in his life, he wasn't invisible. He was on his first mission.
Thirty minutes passed in silence—only broken by Seth's occasional humming and the crunch of gravel. The car came to a slow halt.
"Eh?" Seth leaned forward. "First mission in the middle of nowhere?"
They stepped out.
Jungle mist clung low to the soil, curling around their ankles like fog fingers. Trees stretched toward the gray sky, their twisted trunks like warped shadows.
A patch of forgotten road led nowhere.
"Hey, old man." Ethan turned to the driver. "This really the location?"
The driver, a wrinkled man in mirrored shades and a faded bomber jacket with cigarette burns, muttered under his breath, "Harbringer brats got no damn manners…" He opened the car's glove box and yanked out a folded paper.
"Here," he grunted, handing it over. "The red mark is your target. I can't drive up there. My taxi ain't a mountain goat."
Ethan snatched the map. "A paper map? What is this, the 1980s?"
Seth rolled her eyes. "Are we in some kind of medieval side quest? Ever heard of GPS?"
The driver just lit a cigarette and took a long drag. "That place? Doesn't exist online. Showed up three days ago—like someone just dropped it out of thin air."
Seth blinked. "What?"
Ethan's grip tightened on the map. "Wait. That means…"
The driver cut him off, voice low and amused. "Yeah. You kids pulled a Black Level mission."
Seth and Ethan froze.
"Black?!" they shouted in sync.
Rael tilted his head. "Black…?"
The driver let out a raspy laugh, almost choking on his smoke. "You serious? They didn't even tell the rookie what a Black mission means?" He laughed louder now. "Maybe the higher-ups really trust you kids… or maybe they just wanna see if you'll die fast."
With that, he got in the car and drove off without another word, disappearing down the road like a phantom leaving them to the wolves.
The three of them were left in silence, the wind rustling the leaves like whispers.
Seth folded her arms. "I don't know if that was cool… or a cursed omen."
Ethan unfolded the paper. "Says it's a 12-minute walk. C'mon."
They began their trek uphill, boots crunching over leaves and wet bark. Rael walked between them, his eyes scanning the jungle, his mind still stuck on two words.
Black mission.
"So what is Black level?" he finally asked.
Ethan looked over his shoulder as they walked. "It's not exactly like Harbringer ranks… but similar. An Orange-class Remnant needs four Orange Harbringers to subdue it. Same with Red. But Black?"
Seth cut in, smirking. "Black's on a whole different spectrum. It'd take at least one full Black-level Harbringer to deal with it. Maybe two. That's how far the gap is."
Rael blinked. "So we're in serious danger."
"Exactly," Ethan replied. "But hey… it's kinda thrilling, right?"
"Speak for yourself." Rael muttered, but the truth was… his heart thudded like a drum in rhythm with the forest. Thrill or fear—it was hard to tell.
Seth threw her hands behind her head, skateboard slung behind her back like a sword. "So this is everyone's first mission?"
Ethan nodded. "They don't let anyone under fifteen go on one. And even then, you need a stable Myre signature. We're lucky... or cursed."
After a few more minutes of walking, the jungle abruptly parted like it was holding its breath—and before them stood a massive, decaying manor.
It loomed like a ghost of a forgotten century.
The outer walls were crusted in rust and moss, its windows boarded shut, its rooftop collapsed in places like broken bones. Ivy strangled its sides, and the wind howled softly through the cracks.
Rael swallowed.
Ethan tilted his head, staring at it like he was studying a puzzle.
"All right," he said, voice dry. "We're here."
He turned to them with a half-smile, half-smirk.
"You ready to die?"
Seth grinned wide. "Hell yeah."
Rael… simply gave a tired, nervous nod. "I guess."
And as they stepped toward the gates, the air grew colder—as if something inside the house had already noticed them.