"Rejoice! Rejoice, my brothers and sisters!"
"The gate has opened! Our brethren from beyond have heard us!"
"They will lift us to the Hollow and—"
The cultist's shrill laughter was cut short by the crack of bones and a wet squelch.
Something massive swung through the crimson mist—her body hit the wall with a sickening thud, painting the concrete in red arcs.
Her last words died as a Hollow Creature fed upon her, tearing flesh from fanatic like paper.
Blood splattered the cold concrete. Her body fell in two jagged halves, torn apart by something that didn't even acknowledge her existence.
Even in death, her face twisted in ecstasy, eyes glowing faintly with alien scripture—mark of the Church of the Abyss, slowly eaten away by a buzzing black "smoke".
Their ritual had succeeded.
The Breachpoint pulsed open.
And from it—monsters had spilled forth.
The "brethren from the beyond" had arrived—
—and they didn't care who summoned them.
-
=====
-
Amid the chaos of the cracked industrial sector, two figures fought under the flickering amber haze of emergency lights, a human female mana-user of Filipino descent, and a 3rd generation wolf beastfolk with a cybernetic arm.
"Grayfeng! Three more incoming from the south line!"
Agent Lyra Mari's voice rang clear through the comms, her tone sharp, focused, her silver hair glowing faintly with her conjured light.
Golden geometric cubes formed in the air around her, spinning with perfect symmetry—containment constructs, each humming with compressed Mana.
"Copy that," growled Agent Fes Grayfeng, his wolf muzzle baring fangs as he twisted his heavy cybernetic arm.
Steam hissed from its piston vents.
The ground cracked beneath him as he leapt forward.
The two agents of Section 13—special division for anomalous containment—moved like professionals hardened by a dozen Breachpoints before this one.
They fought the Derelict Husks.
Seven of them.
-
> [ BLOOM DOMINION CODEX ]
> [ The Derelict: Husk (Rank-F) ]
> Silver and rust-colored, skeletal androids crawling like metallic corpses from the swirling anomaly behind them. Their joints screeched. Their eyes burned a hollow orange.
The android-like synthetic race of the Derelicts was speculated that they are once a race of human-like alien beings, their minds digitized into synthetic vessels, long ago—until their code rotted.
Now, they staggered like broken dolls animated by hatred, vomiting streams of self-replicating nanites from their mouths that melted flesh into fuel.
-
"Target core located—chest cavity!" Lyra shouted.
"Understood," Fes replied.
He roared, slamming his cybernetic fist into the closest Husk. The punch exploded through its chest with piston force, sending gears and black nanite fluid spraying.
The creature convulsed, disintegrating into a heap of metallic dust.
Another lunged at him from behind—only to be caught midair in Lyra's golden cube, frozen in a stasis field.
"Selyadong Dilaw!" she cried, her containment sigil flaring bright.
The cube shrank until the trapped Husk imploded, collapsing into a neat block of ash and static.
"Four down," she said calmly.
"Three left," Fes replied, wiping nanite grime from his snout.
But the Derelict Husks were adapting. Their nanite-fueled systems glitched and screamed as they fused limbs, forming malformed appendages like crawling centipedes of metal. The ground rippled with their corrupted energy.
Lyra raised both hands.
Dozens of golden cubes spun in a defensive ring around her.
"Pader ng Kubo!"
A honeycomb of energy formed a barrier, shielding them as one of the Husks unleashed a corrosive nanite spray. It hit the barrier, sizzling like acid rain.
Fes didn't wait. He charged through, his metal arm lighting up with red sigils as his internal piston system reached maximum torque.
"Overdrive!"
The cyberarm detonated forward, shattering another Husk's torso into fragments.
> "Six down," Lyra announced, sweat beading on her brow.
The final Husk screamed, its voice a mix of static and rage. It leapt from a broken walkway, nanites pouring from its mouth like black mist—only to be sliced in half midair by Fes's clawed arm.
The two agents stood amidst the mechanical corpses, breathing heavily. The floor was littered with metallic dust, glowing embers, and the lingering hum of the still-active Breachpoint.
At its center floated a black cube—the Singularity Anchor, a pulsing mass of Hollow energy keeping the Breachpoint alive.
"Let's shut this thing down," said Fes.
Lyra nodded, forming a larger containment cube, its runes spiraling faster and faster until they consumed the Anchor in radiant light.
The black cube imploded, sucking its own corruption inward until it vanished with a resonant whum.
Silence.
The Breachpoint was neutralized.
At least—two of them were.
Agent Lyra's quickly inform the rest of her squadmates. "The second Breachpoint anomaly down. Two more active in the district."
Fes rolled his cybernetic shoulder, hydraulic fluid hissing. "Then we move. The other team should be handling the western zone. Hope they're faster than us."
-
=====<<<[ @ @ @ ]>>>=====
-
The chaos of the Breachpoint flared again—only this time, not from the cultists' chanting or Section 13's technology, but from the reckless Niero body crashing through a wall.
CRAAASH!
"—GUH!"
The world spun in a blur of concrete and pain.
Niero's body slammed through a cracked brick wall, the force shattering loose tiles and sending dust raining down like gray snow. He hit the floor hard—rolling across it until his back collided with a metal counter. Pots clattered, a wok spun in the air, and the faint scent of spices filled his lungs.
He groaned, pushing himself up from the tiled floor.
It was the back kitchen of an old Indian restaurant, long closed for the day during Radiant Day celebration. Pots still hung from the rack, faintly glistening with oil residue, half-destroyed fridges, and destroyed pots and plates. The air held a ghostly perfume of spices—coriander, cardamom, and burnt chili—blending uncomfortably with the lingering stink of the alley he'd just been thrown from.
"...Great, Of course." Niero muttered bitterly, spitting dust and wiping blood from his lip. "From killing goblins to redecorating a restaurant. Guess I'm really moving up in life."
Steam hissed from a broken pipe above him, filling the room with a faint curry scent. His right side throbbed sharply—his ribs and forearm screaming in pain from the earlier impact.
> [ SYSTEM NOTICE ]
> Health: 67%
> Bruise damage (Right Arm / Torso)
> Status: Minor concussion and hairline fractures detected
"Great," he spat, leaning against the counter. "Just got leveled up, instantly healed… and now I'm bruised again. What the hell kind of luck is this?"
> "Statistically?" Vuldyr's voice chimed in, echoing with smug calm inside his neural link. "You tend to attract to violence like gravity attracts matter."
"Not helping, V," Niero grunted. He flexed his right arm—each movement sharp with pain, but functional. "Whatever that thing was… it hit harder than a freight truck."
The faint thud, thud, thud of heavy footsteps echoed from beyond the broken wall—closer, heavier, primal.
Niero froze.
He could feel it through the floor.
> "Incoming. Large Orkoid signature. Height: approximately 2.8 meters. Muscle density: high. Weapon detected—stone club, primitive composition."
Niero exhaled sharply, half in pain, half in disbelief. "Oh, perfect. A walking green tank. Just what I needed."
He looked around the kitchen—his eyes darting between the overturned pots, shattered spices, and flickering stove.
The exit out of the kitchen is also blocked off by debris, basically trapping him there.
No exits except the door that led back toward the alley.
And whatever was out there… was coming for him.
Niero steadied his breathing, brushing brick dust from his hoodie. The flickering kitchen light cast jagged shadows on the walls—each pulse of dim yellow light matching the thud... thud... thud of something massive approaching.
Niero swallowed, eyes narrowing toward the gaping hole in the wall. The air grew heavier—each vibration from those footsteps rattled the metal pots hanging from their hooks. Then it appeared.
The creature ducked its tusked head under the frame, forcing its way through brick and plaster.
A hulking Orc Orkoid, its green hide scarred, leathery and covered with powered substance akin to tribal markings, stood tall beneath the greasy fluorescent glow. Its eyes gleamed like molten amber—predatory, intelligent, and hateful. The stone club it carried looked less like a weapon and more like a piece of a demolished building.
For the first time, Niero's HUD flickered to life in sharp, clean orange text across his vision.
> [ GOLDEN EYE: SCANNING TARGET... ]
> Designation: Orkoid Berserker (Orc Variant)
> Rank: D
> Level: 15
> HP: 150/150
> MP: 150/150
> Threat Rating: High
> Status: Hostile – Combat Engaged
Niero blinked, a crooked smile spreading on his face with a soft chuckle despite the throbbing in his ribs. "Oh, hell yeah… finally. A proper boss."
> "Correction," Vuldyr interjected, "a proper death trap. You're not only injured badly but also five levels below compare to Greenie, Niero. Statistically, it should crush you in—"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it," he cut her off, cracking his neck. "But I just leveled up. Time to test the new stats."
The Orc let out a deep, guttural growl that shook the spice jars off their shelves.
Turmeric dust and chilly powder burst into the air, turning the light into a hazy maroon storm.
It stepped forward—thud... thud—each stride heavy enough to make the stove rattle.
Niero raised his energy pistol, the faint hum of the capacitor building with a low whine.
"I really didn't plan to die smelling like Chicken 65," he muttered.
> "Then don't," Vuldyr replied coldly. "Engage smart. You can't brute force this."
The Orc let out a deafening roar, slamming its club onto the floor—cracking the tiles in a spiderweb pattern. The shockwave sent cutlery flying through the air.
Niero ducked under a spinning frying pan, adrenaline spiking. His HUD flickered again—displaying new markers: [Stamina: 83%] and [Adrenaline Surge: Active].
He summoned his [Goblin's Dagger] on his right hand but accidentally dropped it from his grip due to his right hand felt numbing yet stinging with pain.
"Ackk! Shit!."
Niero steadied himself, limping toward the shadowed doorway—jaw tight, pulse fast.
"Vuldyr," he whispered. "I need all the support you can give."
> "Acknowledged, Niero. Let's make it bleed."
He quickly re-summon his [Goblin's Dagger] he dropped to his left hand and takes a stance, ready to fight.
He smirked, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Alright, big guy... let's see what Rank-D looks like up close."
The Orc bared its tusks, snorting hot breath that reeked of rot and blood.
And in that suffocating kitchen filled with spice and smoke, the battle between man and monster began.
The orc roared, its stone club grinding against the asphalt as it swung upward in a violent arc. Chunks of shattered concrete, claypot fragments, and rebars erupted like gunfire, each piece whistling through the air with lethal speed. Niero ducked, rolled, and even dodged midair, the debris slicing past his head close enough to sting his cheek.
For a heartbeat, he realized—he was faster. His movements felt sharper, lighter, almost effortless.
Not only had he just hit Level 10, but that strange hidden trait he just remember since childhood — [What Doesn't Kill You…] — was already doing its work. The 2% trauma from the goblin ambush hadn't just vanished; it had crystallized into raw power after instantaneously recovery upon leveling up. His reflexes, his balance, even the strength behind his steps—all slightly, but noticeably, enhanced.
"Damn," Niero muttered under his breath, eyes flicking across the glowing blue text of his HUD. "Five years of grinding my ass off at the gym never did this much."
He dodged another swing, rolling behind a metal counter that split in half under the orc's follow-up blow. The heavy scent of spice filled the air — cumin, cardamom, turmeric — a strange comfort amid the chaos. It was then that Niero noticed a cracked, soot-stained picture frame still clinging to the wall.
In it, a smiling old man in a chef's coat:
"Arjun Iyer, Owner of Arjun's Royal Biriyani."
Beside it hung another: a younger Japanese man, bowing cheerfully beneath the caption "Employee of the Month — Hiroshi Tanaka."
Niero's chest twinged with guilt. "Tssss. Sorry, Mr. Iyer. Sorry, Hiroshi… this wasn't how your kitchen was supposed to go down."
Vuldyr responded to Niero's sentimentalism.
> "Irrelevant to combat performance. Remember, Niero — we are inside a Dominion-issued D-Blockade. The entire area is a mirror dimension separated from real space. All structural damage inside will be nullified once the field collapses as if nothing happened."
Niero blinked. "Oh… right. I totally forgot about that."
> "Focus, Niero. The Orc is about to make its move."
Through the gaping hole in the wall, the hulking green beast ducked under the shattered frame, eyes glowing with predatory malice. It stepped into the spice-scented kitchen, cracking its neck as it grinned at the lone boy before it—its next prey.
Niero gripped the Goblin's Dagger, the green sheen of poison glinting under the flickering kitchen lights. His heart pounded once, hard.
> "Alright then… let's test what leveling up really feels like."
The Orc lunged, its stone club cleaving through the air with a sound like thunder splitting the earth. The impact slammed into the metal counters, sending shards of steel and ceramic tiles ricocheting across the narrow kitchen. Niero ducked low, the whoosh of the weapon grazing past his ear, close enough to make his skin sting from the pressure.
The confined space turned the fight into chaos — splintered tables, crushed cookware, shattered jars of sauce painting the floor red and brown. Every swing of the Orc's club was a miniature earthquake, shaking the old kitchen like it was about to collapse.
"Okay—definitely not built for tight spaces!" Niero hissed, vaulting over a counter as the stone club demolished a gas stove behind him. He hit the floor, rolling, eyes darting to the nearest shelf. Rows of colorful jars and tin containers lined it — spices.
He grabbed a handful without thinking — bright orange turmeric, crushed chili, pepper flakes, and a fine powder of unknown origin.
"Alright, let's see if Arjun's Royal Biriyani can save my ass today."
As the Orc raised its club for another swing, Niero flung the spices straight into its face. The powders burst like smoke bombs — a cloud of red, yellow, and white enveloping the creature's eyes and snout.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then came the roar.
The Orc staggered back, howling in agony, clawing at its burning eyes and nose. The capsaicin and turmeric mixed with the creature's sweat, creating a vicious sting that sent tears streaming down its green, scarred face. It tried to rub the irritation away — but only ground the powder deeper into its flesh.
"Yeah, that's right! Cry me a curry, big guy!" Niero barked, half laughing, half terrified.
The Orc's response was a scream of rage that rattled the hanging pots. It began swinging its club blindly, smashing everything within reach — shelves, tables, even the ceiling tiles. The kitchen became a storm of flying debris and burning spice, a haze of chaos and fury.
Niero crouched behind a toppled refrigerator, his heart pounding.
"It's losing control… this is my chance," he thought, feeling the hum of adrenaline and mana rushing through his body.
His HUD pulsed with warning text:
> [Status: Blind (Irritants) — Temporally]
> [Status: Berserk Mode — Imminent]
> [Window of Opportunity: 7 seconds]
> "Whatever you're gonna do; ITS NOW OR NEVER!" Vuldyr warned Niero.
He clenched the [Goblin's Dagger], its serrated green blade glowing faintly in the flickering emergency light.
"Now or never," he whispered, springing forward — ready to strike before the monster fully descended into berserking destruction.
The Orc bellowed in pain and fury, blinded and thrashing wildly, its massive frame shaking the kitchen with every swing. Niero exhaled sharply, tightening his grip on the [Goblin's Dagger], the green sheen pulsing faintly like venomous breath.
"Alright, big guy—time for round two."
The Orc roared and brought its stone club down like a meteor. Niero sprinted straight toward it, timing his steps with precision only instinct and training could grant. Just as the weapon came crashing down, he dropped into a slide — sparks flying as his boots scraped against shattered tiles. The club struck the ground behind him with a deafening *boom*, scattering cutlery and debris into the air.
Niero shot past the Orc's legs, slicing with the Goblin's Dagger in a single, fluid motion. The blade dug into the thick green skin just above the ankle, leaving a jagged, glowing gash that hissed with emerald vapor.
> [ Status Effect: Poisoned — Temporally Continuous HP Drain Active ]
The Orc grunted, staggering, blackened veins spreading up its calf as the toxin took hold. Before it could react, Niero pivoted on his heel, leapt onto its back, and drove the dagger deep into the creature's shoulder.
The blade sank in with a sickening crunch.
"Let's see how thick your hide really is!" he shouted, twisting the blade.
The Orc howled, reaching backward with its massive hand, its claws raking through the air. Niero ducked low, barely avoiding the swipe. Then—without hesitation—he slashed upward. The dagger sliced through flesh and sinew, and the Orc's four fingers flew off in a spray of green blood, splattering the floor like alien paint.
Its roar turned into a shriek of rage. Half-blind and bleeding, the monster began to slam itself against the wall — once, twice, then again, trying to crush the nuisance clinging to its back. The entire kitchen trembled under its strength. Each impact drove the air from Niero's lungs, but he didn't let go.
"Not… yet!" he growled, tightening his legs around the creature's torso. He plunged the dagger again and again — into the back, the shoulder, the base of the neck — each strike followed by a burst of glowing green light.
> [Critical Hit x3]
> [Poison Damage Amplified by Physical Trauma]
Chunks of the Orc's hide began to smoke, the venom eating through the muscle beneath.
"Come on," Niero shouting, gripping the dagger tighter. "Fall already."
The Orc's bellows turned feral, its breath hot and rancid like burning oil. Its rage boiled past comprehension—now pure, animal survival. Before Niero could brace himself, the hulking brute surged forward with a thunderous roar, its massive frame tearing through the kitchen's cracked wall like paper.
"Wait—no, no, no—!" Niero gasped, but his grip only tightened around the dagger's hilt as the world blurred into motion.
The Orc charged straight through the maze of back-alley walls, smashing through one concrete partition after another. Dust and shattered brick exploded around them, blinding flashes of white and gray. Every impact sent a shockwave through Niero's spine, the vibration rattling his bones and bursting pain behind his eyes. His vision flickered with stars; his ears rang with the relentless rhythm of destruction.
> CRASH! — another wall gone.
> CRUNCH! — a steel support beam folded like tin.
Each blow felt like being inside a collapsing building. He could feel the blood in his mouth, taste of iron thick on his tongue. The world was chaos—dust, pain, and motion.
> "Niero!" Vuldyr's voice roared through the neural-link, distorted by static. "Let go! Get to safety before you killed! You can't win like this!"
But Niero grit his teeth, the dagger vibrating in his hand as he stabbed again, burying it deep into the Orc's back. "If I let go now—!" he shouted through clenched teeth, voice cracking between adrenaline and pain. "—then I will lose my only opportunity! I have to end it before it ends me!"
The Orc smashed through yet another wall, its strength seemingly endless. Each collision sent Niero's mind closer to blacking out. His ribs screamed in protest, and his body felt like it was being torn apart by centrifugal force. Yet through sheer defiance, his blade kept moving—slashing, stabbing, tearing—guided by instinct and desperation.
Chunks of flesh peeled away beneath the poisoned edge; green blood spattered across the crumbling corridor like spray paint.
The Orc howled in blind fury, slamming itself through concrete and rebar like a living wrecking ball. Niero clung to its back, every muscle screaming, his knuckles white on the poisoned dagger's hilt. Each time the creature rammed its back against the wall, the air burst from his lungs, his bones grinding under the force. Dust and sparks rained over them like a storm of ash and metal.
Still—he refused to let go.
"Come on… come on, just fall already!" Niero snarled through gritted teeth, his face splattered with green blood and dust.
With a burst of strength, he drove the [Goblin's Dagger] deep into the monster's spine. The jagged blade met bone—then slipped through with a sickening crunch and a wet, electric hiss of poison entering its nervous system.
The Orc gave a guttural, thunderous roar, its body convulsing violently as its legs buckled mid-charge. Together, they burst through one final wall—
CRAAASH!
—the world exploded into light and air. The two crashed out into the open back-alley parking lot, chunks of debris raining down around them. The Orc slammed face-first into the asphalt, the ground cracking beneath its enormous weight. Niero, torn from its back by the sudden stop, was flung forward like a ragdoll—
THUD!
—and smashed onto the hood of a parked car, cracking its windshield in a spiderweb pattern.
For a long second, the world was still. The air smelled of rust, concrete dust, and faint spice from the restaurant behind them.
Niero groaned, his whole body trembling, vision pulsing red from pain. His right arm throbbed; ribs felt like splintered glass under his skin. His HUD flickered faintly before stabilizing:
> [ SYSTEM ALERT ]
> [ HP: 31 / 100 ]
> [ Status: Critical Condition ]
He let out a shaky breath, half laughter, half agony. "Ugh… well, I'm… not dead yet. That's a good sign."
> "Not dead yet?!" Vuldyr's voice cracked through his neural link, her tone sharp with panic. "Your vitals are collapsing, your right arm is partially fractured, and your heart rate is—"
"Relax," Niero coughed, forcing himself upright. "See? Still breathing… that counts for something, right?"
> Vuldyr's digital avatar flickered beside him, her mechanical halo pulsing erratically like a glitching alarm. "You're absolutely insufferable when you're like this…" she muttered—but even then, a hint of relief slipped through her tone.
Niero cracked a grin despite the blood on his lips. "Guess that means I'm doing my job."
Behind him, the fallen Orc twitched once—then went still, a faint shimmer of energy flickering from its broken spine.
As Niero forced himself to breathe through the pain, Vuldyr's holographic form materialized beside him—her eyes widening as streams of data flickered across her digital visor.
> "Wait—Niero, look."
Her hand pointed toward the far end of the parking lot, where the debris-choked alley opened to what appeared to be a wall of light.
Through its shimmering surface, Niero could see… people.
Crowds of them, laughing and cheering under colorful banners and holographic fireworks—celebrating Radiant Day. Balloons drifted through the air, music echoed faintly through the veil. The world beyond was peaceful, radiant, utterly unaware of the chaos that had just unfolded mere meters away.
> "The D-Blockade's inner boundary, its "veil" so to speak" Vuldyr murmured, her tone half awe, half calculation. "We're inside a mirrored dimension. To them, this entire space doesn't exist. No sound, no light, not even your heat signature passes through."
Niero blinked, dazed, watching the reflection of a world untouched by violence. "So… they're right there… and yet can't see a damn thing."
> "That's the point," she replied softly. "Containment protocols. Keep the public calm, keep the breach sealed." Her halo glowed brighter as she scanned the area. "But listen, you're in no shape to fight anymore. You've got multiple fractures, your energy reserves are below critical—if another creature appears, you will die."
He winced, sliding off the crumpled hood of the car, his boots hitting the cracked pavement with a hollow thud. "Yeah… guess I've had enough fun for one day."
> Vuldyr stepped closer, voice firm but concerned. "You need to get to the wall. If you can reach it, I can create a temporary Dimensional Breach to pull you out before anything bad happens."
Niero managed a dry laugh between shallow breaths. "Crawl my way out of hell… fitting ending."
Pain lanced through his ribs as he crouched, then fell to one knee. Still, he pushed forward—dragging himself across the fractured ground. Each movement left a faint streak of blood and dust behind him, his vision dimming at the edges.
The world beyond the veil looked so close. The bright neon signs, the warm lights of the main street—people drinking, dancing, smiling. For a brief moment, he thought how surreal it was… that just beyond that barrier, life continued as if the monsters and blood and madness had never existed.
> "Almost there," Vuldyr's voice urged, softer now, echoing like a tether in his fading consciousness. "Just a few meters more, Niero. Don't stop now."
Every inch toward the glowing wall felt like a lifetime.
Niero dragged himself forward, blood dripping from his fingers as he crawled—each movement scraping the ground, his breath sharp and ragged. The faint hum of the D-Blockade veil rippled in front of him like liquid glass, so close he could almost reach through it.
"Just a few more meters…" he muttered between shallow breaths, half-laughing in disbelief. "Then maybe… I can explain this mess to my family. Or the hospital. Hell, maybe they'll call me crazy."
For a fleeting second, the world went quiet. The air was still; the muffled laughter and fireworks from the other side of the barrier sounded almost comforting. It felt—finally—like it was over.
Then Vuldyr's voice screamed into his ear, sharp and panicked.
> "NIERO! DANGER!! BEHIND YOU!!!"
His heart lurched. He barely turned his head when a thunderous boom shook the ground—followed by a gust of wind and the deafening roar of something massive.
Before he could even raise his weapon, the stone club came down.
A wet, sickening CRACK echoed through the air.
Niero's world exploded into white pain as the club slammed into his left leg, bone and flesh twisting unnaturally beneath the impact. His scream tore through the silence—raw, unfiltered agony—as blood splattered across the cracked pavement.
"RRRRAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
He clutched at his mangled leg, his breath ragged, his body shaking uncontrollably.
The HUD in his vision blinked violently.
> [ SYSTEM ALERT ]
> [ CRITICAL DAMAGE! ]
> [ HP: 22 / 100 ]
> [ Status: Critical Condition; Crippled Left Leg, Multiple Hairline Fracture, Physical Trauma ]
-
=====<<<<<[ Ch06: Party Crasher, Part 3 - END]>>>>>=====