The sun sank slowly beyond the skyline of Kuala Lumpur, its fading light turning glass towers to molten gold before surrendering them to shadow. Evening settled over the city with deceptive calm. Traffic thinned. Office lights blinked out one by one. The distant hum of urban life softened into something almost peaceful.
But in one of the city's more secure quarters—far from curious eyes and wandering ears—the headquarters of Stopgap Mercenary stirred to life.
Inside the action hall, the air carried the faint tang of oil and metal—the unmistakable scent of weapons freshly cleaned and prepared. Crates lay open on reinforced tables. Tactical maps flickered across digital displays. Lines of projected terrain shifted as new data streamed in. The atmosphere was not frantic, but purposeful. This was not the first mission the team had faced, nor would it be the last.
At the head of the table stood Sanjay, known to many as Xenoblast.
He surveyed his team with sharp, assessing eyes. As one of Malaysia's rare S-Ranked superhumans, his presence alone commanded attention. Guilds across the world had approached him with generous offers—power, prestige, wealth beyond imagination—but he had refused them all. He had chosen to remain here, with this compact and loyal unit that had once been nothing more than a circle of friends. That choice had shaped Stopgap's identity as much as any victory.
Officially, Sanjay was registered as S-Ranked. No one treated him as anything less. His destructive output, control in combat, and ability to end battles swiftly had long since erased any doubt.
In truth, however, his innate potential had awakened at high A-Ranked. Only he knew this. True rank was determined at awakening and recorded on one's Awakening Card—fixed from the beginning. Government assessments, while influential, were not absolute. Errors were inevitable, given the unpredictable nature of superhuman abilities.
"We've got a new mission," he said at last, his voice steady and unhurried. "An Orc tribe has been causing havoc near the outskirts of Taman Negara. Their numbers and strength place them at A-Ranked. Other top-tier operatives are still deployed elsewhere. We're what's available."
A murmur rippled through the hall—not fear, but acknowledgment of the stakes.
Dean, known as Reflect Bounder, nodded calmly. An A-Ranked superhuman and Stopgap's second pillar of strength, his ability to redirect force had saved them more times than anyone could count. Nearby, Al the Supreme Magician twirled his staff absentmindedly, murmuring fragments of incantations under his breath as though rehearsing for an invisible audience.
Hanz the Silent Dagger sharpened his twin blades with slow, economical movements. Each stroke was deliberate, each breath measured. Mary the Shield Rush tested the weight of her shield, stepping forward and bracing as though already holding the line."I'll hold the front," Mary said firmly.
Afee the High Guard, towering and broad-shouldered, clapped a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Nothing gets past us."
Fiqq the Double Tap inspected his pistols with quiet efficiency, checking the chambers and adjusting the sights. The soft metallic clicks echoed briefly in the hall. "I'll cover the flanks," he said coolly.
Across the room, Nisha the Telepath stood with her eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration as her mind stretched outward. "I'll keep us ahead of danger," she said softly.
Beside her, Gee the Quarter Upper sorted potions and charms into secure pouches, fingers moving swiftly and methodically. "Everyone will be at their best," she promised with quiet confidence.
Aside from Al, who was B-Ranked, Hanz, Mary, Afee, Fiqq, Nisha, and Gee were all C-Ranked superhumans—disciplined, capable, and hardened by countless engagements. Their coordination, more than their rankings, was what made them formidable.
And at the very back of the hall stood Isey.
Officially designated Strong Right, he lingered in the shadows, quiet and unassuming. As an E-Ranked superhuman, he was the lowest on paper. But paper did not capture the whole truth. They had seen him enter that relentless state—the berserker surge that drove him beyond limitation, forcing his strength to spike unexpectedly. In those moments, he had matched fighters far above his ranking.
Still, doubt lingered within him.
He had declined higher-risk assignments before, prioritizing caution over pride. Watching his friends prepare stirred something uncomfortable in his chest. Stopgap was not merely a mercenary guild. They had stood together long before rankings and missions defined them. Their loyalty had been forged through years of shared hardship—in small apartments and borrowed training grounds—long before government contracts followed.
In the end, Isey stepped forward.
"I'm in," he said simply.
No one cheered. They did not need to. A few subtle nods were enough.
That same morning, Stopgap Mercenary set out.
The bus ride toward Taman Negara passed beneath a sky washed pale by early sunlight. Kuala Lumpur's towering skyline gradually gave way to narrower roads and dense greenery. Road signs thinned. The scent of the city was replaced by damp earth and distant foliage. Conversation inside the bus remained minimal. Some reviewed equipment. Others closed their eyes in quiet focus. The hum of the engine and the rhythm of tires against asphalt created an almost deceptive tranquility.
As the trees thickened and the road narrowed, Nisha inhaled sharply.
"They're close," she whispered. "And… they're not alone."
Sanjay's hand rose immediately. "Stop here."
The bus came to a halt. The team disembarked in fluid, practiced motion, boots touching dirt with synchronized readiness.
The forest erupted moments later.
Orcs burst from the undergrowth in coordinated waves, their roars splitting the quiet morning air. They had prepared for this encounter.
Sanjay reacted instantly. Controlled explosions rippled outward from his hands—precise and contained—sending the first wave sprawling without igniting the forest canopy. Dean stepped forward, redirecting incoming spears and crude projectiles with effortless deflections.
Al's magic flared in arcs of fire and light, scorching the earth in defensive patterns. Hanz became a blur, appearing and disappearing between trees as his blades found vulnerable gaps in thick hides.
Mary anchored the center, shield planted firm as enemies crashed against her defense. Afee's sweeping strikes scattered attackers with raw power. Fiqq's pistols barked in clean, measured succession, each shot landing with precision.
Isey moved with restraint at first—supporting where needed, striking cleanly. When a particularly large Orc broke through Mary's line, Isey stepped in without hesitation. His right fist drove forward with sudden force, sending the creature sprawling. For a brief instant, that familiar heat surged through him—the edge of his berserker state—but he forced it down. The battle did not require it.
Not yet.
The ambush collapsed swiftly.
Without pause, the team pressed deeper into the forest.
Guided by Nisha's telepathy, they navigated the dense terrain efficiently. Broken branches and heavy footprints soon gave way to crude fortifications. The Orc encampment revealed itself in a clearing ahead—barricades of timber and scavenged scrap forming a rough perimeter.
Battle resumed instantly.
Gee's enhancements coursed through the team, sharpening reflexes and reinforcing stamina. With most of the Orc warriors already defeated during the ambush, resistance faltered quickly.
The Warchief emerged—a towering brute armored in scavenged metal.
He roared a challenge that shook leaves from nearby branches.
Sanjay answered with a controlled blast that staggered him. Mary advanced, shield first, absorbing the counterstrike. Dean redirected the brute's raw strength back into its own frame, creating an opening. Together, they pressed forward with relentless coordination.
Within minutes, the combined assault ended the fight.
Silence settled over the clearing.
The threat had been neutralized—just as expected. With two A-Ranked superhumans present, the outcome had never truly been uncertain.
Superhumans were valuable resources. The government would not deploy teams merely to barely manage a situation. An A-Ranked mission theoretically required only one A-Ranked superhuman.
However, sending just one carried unnecessary risk. Since superhumans were scarce and strategically important, the standard protocol was to deploy at least double the required combat power to ensure operational safety.
Then Nisha stiffened.
"There's something else," she whispered. "Something… darker."
The air changed.
The shadows around the encampment deepened unnaturally, stretching and pooling until they swallowed the remaining light. Even the temperature seemed to drop. Leaves ceased rustling. The forest fell unnervingly still. The oppressive sensation pressed against their senses—heavy and deliberate.
From within the darkness stepped a cloaked figure. His form seemed barely solid, edges wavering like smoke. Faint light glowed beneath his hood.
"So," the figure said smoothly, his voice carrying through the clearing, "you defeated my Orcs."
Sanjay stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The figure laughed—a low, hollow sound that did not belong in the living forest.
"You've been efficient," he said mildly. "But you've only trimmed the weeds."
Dark energy pulsed outward briefly, pressing against them like an invisible tide. Isey felt it crawl across his skin—cold, deliberate, calculating. Even Sanjay's stance shifted subtly, instinct recognizing a presence beyond ordinary classification.
Before anyone could react—before Nisha could probe deeper or Sanjay could unleash another blast—the darkness folded inward.
He vanished.
The forest returned to stillness, though it no longer felt natural.
Birdsong did not resume.
The mercenaries stood in silence for several long seconds, scanning the tree line, senses stretched taut.
Their victory, moments ago straightforward and decisive, now felt incomplete—like a door opened onto something far larger.
Sanjay's jaw tightened.
"This mission just changed," he said quietly.
Isey clenched his fists slowly, the restrained heat within him stirring once more.
Whatever had just begun… would not end with Orcs.