The Vanguard Dreadnought roared as it breached the atmospheric stabilizers of Velerion Star City. Below us, the sprawling metropolis, a jewel of neon and glass began to shrink into a geometric map of glowing circuits. We were no longer shielded by the city's dome. Beyond these borders lay the uncharted zones, territories where the laws of physics were often replaced by the whims of high-density mana.
The interior of the Dreadnought was a masterpiece of arcane engineering. I spent the first hour of the flight pacing the corridor, my eyes narrowed as I analyzed the ship's structure.
"Outstanding," I muttered, placing a hand against the vibrating bulkhead.
Unlike the primitive combustion engines of my old Earth, this vessel was powered by a Mana-Compression Core. Large, high-purity mana stones were slotted into a central compactor, acting as both fuel and stabilizer. The stones were ground down at a molecular level, releasing raw energy that was then channeled through a series of runic conduits, allowing the massive ship to travel at supersonic speeds without the need for traditional aerodynamics.
"You will be dropped off at the outskirts of the Elite Headquarters," a voice crackled over the comms. It was the tactical officer sitting beside the pilot. "Orders from your squad captain."
The announcement hit the room like a physical weight.
"Huh? Captain?" Ria blinked, her fans snapping shut. "Since when did we get assigned a captain? That's incredibly fast."
"And unannounced," Kael added, his brow furrowed. "Usually, elite squads are vetted for weeks before a commanding officer is appointed. Someone is pulling strings behind the scenes."
I didn't answer immediately. I looked over at Kageno'nenji. He hadn't moved an inch since we boarded. He was leaning against a reinforced glass port, staring out at the sea of clouds with an expression of total apathy.
I walked up to him, the hum of the mana-engines vibrating through my boots. "Not interested in knowing who this captain really is? For someone so concerned about efficiency, you seem remarkably indifferent to who will be giving you orders."
"Like I care," Kageno whispered, his voice a low, base rumble that barely carried over the engines. He didn't even turn his head.
I scoffed. "You really are a straightforward guy, aren't you?"
Kageno's only response was a faint narrowing of his eyes.
I turned back to Ria, realizing someone was missing. "Any word from Sinata? I expected her to be leading the charge."
"Oh, her?" Ria waved a hand dismissively. "She sent a message through the system. Apparently, the Leesburg family has some urgent matters for her to attend to. She'll be joining us at the headquarters later tonight."
"I see," I said, though a part of me wondered if her absence was purely political, or if she was being kept away from the initial briefing.
Some hours passed, the dreadnought descended toward a massive floating island anchored to the peaks of the northern range. This was the elite headquarters, a fortress of black obsidian and white marble. As the ramp hissed open, the cold, high-altitude air rushed in, smelling of ozone and ancient ice.
We stepped out onto the landing pad, alighting from the machine's maw with nothing but our backpacks. We didn't need luggage since we had used Kageno's spatial artifact storage to house our belongings. He had been remarkably reluctant to let us use it, grumbling about cluttering his dimensional pocket, but eventually yielded to Ria's persistent pouting.
Standing alone on the edge of the platform, framed by the setting sun, was a lone figure.
He looked more like a street-style icon than a military officer. He wore a long, flowing tactical jacket over a crisp white shirt and black combat trousers. His hair was a sharp, modern cut—black on top with perfectly faded sides. Two fluffy yellow earrings dangled from his ears, catching the light, and a black face mask obscured the lower half of his face.
"Yo," the figure called out, his voice light and airy. "I've been expecting you all. Welcome to the big leagues."
Ria stepped forward, her hand on the side of her waist. "And who are you supposed to be? Some welcoming committee?"
"I am supposed to be your captain," the man replied, his eyes crinkling as if he were smiling behind the mask. "And I already am your captain, Miss Ria."
Ria shrieked, jumping back a step. "Hey! How do you know my name? I haven't even introduced myself yet!"
I stepped past her, my eyes scanning the man's posture, the relaxed shoulders, the specific tilt of the head, and those unmistakable earrings.
I gave a small smile and spoke up.
"You know, I use to know a very troublesome guy who has calm expressions, confident with his skills, and usually wears fluffy earrings. And that guy supposed to be the one standing right in front of me. Isn't that right captain Sherach Leon?"
The figure froze for a second, then let out a soft laugh. He reached up, sliding the mask down to reveal the his face.
"I never figured you'd find me out so soon, Oliver," he said, his smile widening.
Ria and Kael looked between us, their mouths agape. 'Since when have these two been this close?' their expressions seemed to ask.
"It wasn't hard," I said mockingly. "You still have those ridiculous fluffy earrings on, and your posture is too lazy for a stranger. You sold yourself off the moment you opened your mouth."
Sherach rolled his eyes awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, yeah. You got me there. I just can't do without the earrings. Let's just say it's a personal attachment. They're lucky charms."
"Ohh. Seems you guys knows each other I'm almost jealous," Kageno interrupted, as he approached the group. His voice sounded like hollow, sandpaper whisper that felt like a cold breeze hitting the back of our necks. His eyes fixed on Sherach. "For Oliver to make friends with someone as legendary as Sherach Leon... it's an interesting development."
"Don't worry, Kageno," Sherach said, his tone warm and brotherly. "As long as I'm your captain actually, even if I wasn't, feel free when you're with me. Don't look at me as a superior. Consider me a brother instead of a friend."
Kageno stared at him in a silence so heavy it felt like the air was thickening. If this were a simulation, a drop of sweat would have surely pricked out of Sherach's forehead under that intense, judging gaze.
Suddenly, Kageno broke the silence with a sharp, dry scoff. "PFFT."
"Considering you as a brother will be impossible, Mister Sherach Leon," Kageno said flatly.
Sherach didn't seem bothered. He laughed and stepped forward, patting Kageno's shoulder. "Anything is possible, my friend. You'll learn that soon enough."
"We're not friends," Kageno responded coldly. He reached up to swat Sherach's hand away, but his hand hit empty air.
Sherach was already three feet away, standing with his hands in his pockets as if he had never moved.
Kageno froze. He stared at his own shoulder, then at Sherach. 'What? When did he...?' Kageno asked himself, his internal calm momentarily shattered. 'His hand was right there. I felt the weight of it. How did he move before my nerves even registered the intent to strike?'
He looked at Sherach, who was back to his carefree attitude, seemingly unaware of the psychological shock he had just delivered. 'Is he keeping me stunned on purpose? What kind of monster is this guy?'
"Kageno? Anything wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," Sherach asked with genuine concern.
"Tsk. Everything is fine," Kageno muttered, turning his head away to hide his confusion. 'Is he's pretending like nothing happened? Or is he mocking me?'
Sherach clapped his hands together, regaining our attention. "Alright, I'll head straight to the point. I'm your new captain, and your first mission begins a day after tomorrow. That gives you exactly forty-eight hours."
He glanced at the massive fortress behind him. "Take your time. Familiarize yourselves with the other elites, explore the training facilities, and for heaven's sake, get some rest. You're going to need it."
"Wait, Sherach, what kind of mission—?" I started to ask.
But I was talking to the wind.
Sherach blurred vanishing completely from our sight, leaving only a faint scent of ozone and the lingering echo of his laughter.
"No way. He's too fast." Kael said with a shock.
"Oliver don't tell me that is our captain? We are really far from his level." Ria said while staring at the spot Sherach had just left with a total disbelief.
I stared at the spot where Sherach had stood. My Nebula heart was thumping. Sherach wasn't just a captain, he was a gatekeeper to a level of power I hadn't even begun to calculate.
-----
We walked toward the main entrance of the Spire. The doors were fifty feet high, made of a translucent alloy that glowed with a soft blue light. The interior was a massive open hall filled with other Vanguardian elites. These weren't students. These were battle-hardened veterans, many of whom carried scars from encounters with Calamities monsters. As our boots clicked against the polished obsidian floor, the low roar of the hall died instantly. Five hundred eyes, sharp, cynical, and predatory swiveled toward us.
"Hey... are those the new pups?" a voice whispered from a nearby table.
"Yeah, that's them," a man replied, his voice a low grunt. A woman leaned over to her comrade, her eyes narrowing as she locked onto me. Her voice was a sharp, mocking rasp that carried easily in the sudden silence. "Look at the lead one. He's so clean he practically glows. Probably hasn't even seen a drop of real blood yet. They look like porcelain dolls. Pretty to look at, but they'll shatter the moment they hit the dirt on a real raid."
"So," a voice boomed from the center of the room. A massive man with a scarred face and a Tier-8 badge that shimmered with an oppressive golden light as he stood up. He loomed over us, his shadow stretching long across the floor. "You're the runts Sherach is babysitting? Hope you brought your own diapers, kids. The wastelands don't play nice."
The room erupted into low, cruel chuckles. But the laughter was cut short by a sudden, freezing drop in temperature.
"Hey," Kageno's voice was a low, dangerous rumble that sounded like grinding stone. "Who do you think you're calling a kid? I hope you weren't looking at me when you said that, old man."