The Wing Zero hangar at 5:55 AM was a desolate place. A cold wind whistled through the gaps in the massive steel doors, carrying the scent of fuel and old metal. Raven arrived dragging his feet, wearing a Division tactical uniform that, despite being new, already felt far too heavy. In one hand, he balanced a cup of coffee; in the other, the remains of a biscuit left over from the cafeteria breakfast.
He expected to be the first one there, but it seemed his new companions were more punctual.
Daemon was already there. The former investigator stood by the armored transport, arms crossed over his broad chest. He didn't lean against anything; his very posture was a declaration of war against laziness. When his eyes met Raven's, the air around them seemed to grow denser.
"You're late by my standards," Daemon said. His voice was as strong as thunder, vibrating in Raven's ears. "I hope your endurance is better than your punctuality, rookie."
Raven took a long sip of his coffee, feeling the warm liquid burn its way down.
"The clock says there are five minutes left," Raven replied, ignoring the aura of pressure emanating from the man. "But if you enjoy suffering in the cold this early... I needed some coffee. Want some?"
Daemon narrowed his eyes, evaluating the "rookie" before him. He saw the sloppiness, but noted that Raven didn't flinch under the weight of his presence. Before the atmosphere could get any heavier, a short laugh came from atop the armored vehicle.
Leopold leaped from the roof of the transport with a lightness that would irritate anyone who felt pain just from sitting or standing up. The redhead landed soundlessly, flashing a smile worthy of a TV actor—though anyone who looked closely at his eyes would only see a dull, lifeless blue.
"Relax, Detective. The 'intern' just looks like someone who hasn't slept since the world ended. I get him. The world is too exhausting to walk with a straight back." Leopold extended a pale hand toward Raven. "Let's try not to die together for now, what do you say, rookie?"
Raven looked at the hand, then at Daemon's stern face.
"Raven. I'm the guy who's going to make sure you don't turn into dust when things get ugly. Just don't expect me to do it with a smile on my face."
"An optimist, I like it," Leopold teased, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking at Daemon. "So, what do you think of our new human shield, Detective? He seems more interested in coffee than monsters."
Daemon snorted, uncrossing his arms.
"He looks like an amateur who got lucky. But if Helena says he can handle the heat, I'll test that in the field. If he falls, I'm not stopping to pick him up."
"Fair enough," Raven shrugged, finishing his coffee. "I don't plan on falling anyway. It's too much work to get back up."
At that moment, the sound of heels echoed on the concrete. Helena approached with her holographic terminal, her usual professional expression masking any trace of fatigue or discomfort.
"Enough social introductions," Helena interrupted, stopping in front of the trio. "The briefing is short. Industrial Sector 07. Confirmed infestation of Rank D and C beasts. The objective is a total wipeout."
She projected a map of the zone, where iron warehouses appeared twisted by something organic.
"Don't worry about collecting cores or stones. The Government has changed the protocol; monster carcasses are now raw material for the defense industry. A heavy cleanup crew will come in after you to 'recycle' what's left. Your mission is to ensure nothing is left alive to bite the collectors."
Leopold whistled, looking at the images of the creatures. They looked like dogs, but their fur had a strange appearance, as if it were made of some kind of metal.
"Recycling? Are we sanitation workers now? Brandt really knows how to take the glamour out of being a hero."
"We aren't heroes, Leopold. We are assets," Daemon corrected, climbing into the transport's cabin. "And assets who complain less produce more."
Raven looked at the images of the monsters. "These look less dangerous than the spiders I fought last time. But in the end, we're just high-end pest exterminators," Raven grumbled, tossing his empty cup into a nearby bin.
"Exactly," Helena closed the hologram. "Get in the transport. Daemon, you command the field. Raven, you are the anchor. Leopold, give them the vision they need. Try not to destroy the structures more than necessary; iron is still expensive and the government wants to salvage every beam."
Raven climbed in last, sitting on the uncomfortable metal bench. He looked at Daemon, who was already checking his gear, and at Leopold, who stared into nothingness with that disturbing void in his eyes.
"Hey, Leopold," Raven called out as the armored engine roared to life. "Does that 'glow' of yours work for heating food? Because if it's a long day, I'm going to need a hot snack."
Leopold gave a crooked smile, the first one that seemed even slightly real.
"If you survive the first horde, rookie, I might even try to fry an egg for you. But I'm warning you: my buffet service charges a premium."
Daemon merely shook his head in disapproval but said nothing. The transport accelerated, leaving the hangar behind and heading toward the industrial ruins where the real work awaited.
The transport stopped with a metallic jolt that made the steel groan. As soon as the rear door opened, the smell of rust and ozone flooded the cabin. Industrial Sector 07 was a labyrinth of fallen cranes like giant skeletons and warehouses whose tin roofs had been peeled back like paper by colossal claws.
Daemon leaped out first. The moment his feet touched the ground, the asphalt didn't just crack; a shallow crater formed instantly under his boots—the result of the gravitational density he used to anchor himself.
Raven followed right behind, feeling the air vibrate. From the shadows of an oxidized fuel tank, the first group of "metallic dogs" emerged. They were abominations: their bodies resembled Dobermans, but their skin was an organic mesh fused with iron plates. Their teeth weren't ivory, but a serrated alloy that shimmered with black oil.
"They're hungry," Leopold whispered.
The redhead didn't pull any weapons. He simply extended his hand, his fingertips trembling slightly. Without a sound, a blinding flash of white light erupted from his palm. It wasn't a magic spell; it was a concentrated thermal beam. Where the light touched the monster's carapace, the metal turned from gray to glowing red in a second, melting the armor and cooking the flesh beneath. Leopold moved his wrist with icy calm, tracing lines of light that severed paws and snouts with the precision of a surgeon. The smell of burnt meat and molten iron became unbearable.
On the other side, Daemon was a geological force. He advanced toward a horde trying to flank the group. He didn't punch the air; he simply clenched his fist and forced his palm toward the ground, as if pushing the planet itself down.
The effect was terrifying. The air between Daemon and the monsters seemed to turn solid. The sound of metallic shells being crushed sounded like a car being dropped into an industrial press. The monsters were flattened against the ground, eyes popping from their sockets from the sudden pressure as the asphalt gave way beneath them. Daemon didn't stop; he walked over the wreckage, each step crushing what remained of the armored skulls with the dry snap of breaking twigs.
Raven watched in silence. So this is how Rank C works, he thought. A massive, overwhelming power.
But the warning came from his Instinct. Three beasts, larger and with iron plates on their shoulders, tore through the lateral smoke, charging directly at him in a blind rush.
Raven entered his battle stance, body relaxed, remembering every move from his sparring sessions with Sarah, trying to premeditate and read the monsters' movements. When the first beast lunged, its saw-like jaws open for his neck, he didn't retreat. He used his Reaction Time to see the trajectory of the claws in slow motion. He tilted his torso to the left, feeling the rush of air as the monster passed him, and delivered a short, dry, straight punch to the base of the beast's ribs.
His Metallic Skin hardened at the point of contact. The sound was a deep CLANG, like a five-kilogram sledgehammer hitting a steel beam. The density of Raven's strike didn't just break the monster's iron ribs; the shockwave tore through the creature's internal organs, turning them to pulp. The monster was tossed aside, bouncing off the ground like an empty shell.
Without missing a beat, Raven grabbed the second beast by the snout. He felt the cold iron and the heat of the monster's blood on his hand. With a twist of his hips, he used the creature's own weight to hurl it against the third beast coming up behind. The impact of metal on metal was deafening, leaving both creatures dazed on the ground, where Raven finished them with precise kicks to the head—each strike emitting that characteristic snap of bone being crushed.
Daemon stopped for a second, looking over his shoulder. He expected to see a rookie fumbling or cowering, but what he saw was lethal minimalism. Raven didn't fight like a civilian; he fought like a soldier with years of experience. In his movements, one could see he hated wasting strikes, making every attack short, dry, and terrifyingly heavy.
"You've got clean moves, rookie," Leopold commented, wiping sweat from his forehead. The constant glowing was leaving his skin with a pale hue of exhaustion; his cheeks, once rosy, were now nearly colorless. "You hardly look like you're exerting yourself to deal with them."
"If I exert myself too much, I get hungry sooner," Raven replied, shaking his hand to clear the thick, oil-like blood from his glove.
"Stay focused," Daemon cut in, though his tone was less aggressive. "The yard is clear, but the main warehouse is too quiet."
The yard was clean, but the processing warehouse ahead felt like a zinc tomb. Raven reached the massive sliding door, feeling the cold iron against his glove. With a sigh of boredom, he applied force. The metal groaned shrilly, a sound that seemed to slice through the sector's silence.
Inside, Leopold's glow revealed a mountain of flesh and metal. The Rank B Boar was the size of a truck. Its skin was a crust of overlapping steel plates, and two solid iron tusks protruded from its jaw, each the size of a man.
The boar opened its eyes, revealing two slits of ruby red. It snorted, lowered its massive head, and charged.
Raven barely crossed his arms before the impact. The boar hit him with a headbutt that felt like being struck by a semi-truck. The boom of metal against metal made everyone's ears ache. Raven was hurled thirty meters, crashing through a brick wall and bending a steel support beam in the outer courtyard with his body.
He fell, spitting blood. His arms throbbed and his vision was blurred.
[ALERT: STRUCTURAL DAMAGE DETECTED]
Integrity: 58%!!!
Initiating Vitality Recovery!
The boar emerged through the ruins of the wall, focused on finishing the job.
"Not on my watch!" Daemon roared, forcing his hands downward.
The ground around the boar gave way. The monster was forced to its knees; its iron hooves began to tremble under the pressure. You could hear the creature's enraged roar as its iron fur began to glow like heated metal. Raven stood up, shaking his head and spitting out the blood pooling in his mouth, then charged toward the great beast.
The moment he entered the radius of Daemon's ability, the world became ten times heavier. Raven's lungs burned and his knees popped under the crushing gravity of his ally.
[EXTREME CONDITION DETECTED]
Ability Acquired: Gravity Resistance (Passive): Level 5 [RANK D]
With the System's new support, the weight became bearable. Raven advanced and engaged in brutal combat, landing dry punches against the beast's armored snout. Each impact echoed as if they were in a forge where metal was being hammered into shape. He grabbed the boar's tusks, holding the monster's head up while Daemon bled from the nose to maintain the pressure.
"Leopold, now!" Raven bellowed, feeling the boar's shell tear through his gloves. "The thinnest, hottest beam you've got! Aim right for the middle of this monster's head, even if you have to go through me!"
Leopold, pale and on his knees, joined his hands and pointed with both index fingers together. First, a large ball of light shrank into a tiny point; then, a thread of white light—thin as a needle and hot as a star's core—shot out. A high-pitched whistle signaled its velocity. The beam grazed Raven's shoulder, melting his uniform fabric and his metallic skin before piercing the boar's eye and tearing through its skull.
Raven smelled his own flesh burning, a sharp pain the System promptly recorded.
[THERMAL DAMAGE DETECTED]
Ability Acquired: Light Resistance (Passive): Level 3 [RANK D]
The boar shuddered and collapsed, turning into an inert mass of iron and flesh. Daemon deactivated the gravity and slumped to the ground, panting. Leopold collapsed sideways, his stomach growling loudly in the silence of the courtyard.
"I... I could eat a week's worth of food right now," Leopold murmured weakly. "Maybe even more."
Daemon let out a gravelly laugh, wiping blood from his face. "Two weeks, Leopold. And a barrel of beer."
Raven, his shoulder still smoking and his uniform in tatters, sat on a piece of rubble. He felt the "prickling" of the regeneration working on his wounds.
"Don't forget dessert, too," Raven said, looking at his trembling hands. "The Division is going to have to pay for everything. Or I'm quitting tomorrow."
The two veterans looked at the rookie who had just held down a Rank B beast inside a gravitational collapse. For the first time, the skepticism was gone.
"If you pull that off, I'll follow you forever, rookie," Leopold smiled, closing his eyes. "But before that, I need you to carry us. I can't feel my legs."
"No way," Raven grumbled, though he was already standing up to help them. "That's not in my contract."