Bash stayed crouched over the debris for a few quiet seconds after confirming it was safe. The relic’s

  cold imprint lingered on his fingertips. Dust drifted lazily in the air from where he had brushed away

  the last of the rubble. Nothing in the room moved. Nothing creaked. The silence made the ruined house

  feel like a sealed chamber, untouched by the outside world.

  SC spoke again in her calm tone.

  “It is safe to hold. Retrieve it.”

  Bash slid his hand under the angled beam he had placed earlier and found the small object by touch

  alone. His fingers closed around a firm, cool surface. It was heavier than it looked, no larger than a fist,

  with a faint hum that resonated through his knuckles.

  He lifted it out with controlled movements and brought it close to his leg so that if anyone glanced

  inside they would not see anything out of place. The relic was muted in color, coated in dust, but even

  beneath the grime he could feel the steady pressure radiating from it, like a tiny heartbeat pressed into

  his palm.

  “What is it?” Bash whispered.

  “I cannot yet determine,” SC replied. “Place it against your chest so I can read the resonance

  interaction.”

  He pressed the relic beneath his armor until it rested against his shirt. The chill sank through his

  sternum in a slow spreading wave. There was no pain. Only a quiet pressure, the way cool water

  presses against skin.

  “Continue looking around,” SC instructed. “Act normal. Your timing must match your standard sweep

  or this will appear suspicious. You have roughly one minute before you risk being questioned.”

  Bash nodded slightly and moved across the room. He kicked aside a broken drawer, lifted a fallen

  board, and checked behind a shattered dresser, all slowly and methodically. He had performed the exact

  motions dozens of times in dozens of ruined houses. If anyone walked by and looked in, they would see

  nothing unusual.

  Thirty seconds passed.

  SC spoke again.

  “I can confirm a spatial signature. The relic has a space attribute. Weak on the surface but active.”

  Bash paused near the fallen bedframe. “What does that mean?”

  “I do not yet know. Very few, if any spatial relics exist. Their functions were often passed verbally by

  their creators. Most documentation did not survive.”

  “Well that sounds reassuring,” Bash muttered.

  “You have two choices,” SC continued. “First, turn it over to the guild and report it. Second, link it to

  your resonance signature. If you do not link it, the team will sense it the moment you get close to

  them.”

  Bash tightened his grip on the relic. “If I link it, can I unlink it later?”

  “Unknown.”

  “That is not helpful.”

  “It is accurate. Relics differ. Some allow removal. Some permanently bind until the user dies. Some

  depend on the user possessing a space affinity. You do not.”

  He swallowed. “Can linking it kill me?”

  “Unlikely. But certain relics can cause harm if the user cannot meet their requirements.”

  “So possible side effects.”

  “Yes.”

  “What kind?”

  “Unknown. Without complete access to your internal structure, I cannot predict outcomes.”

  He exhaled and rubbed the edge of the relic with his thumb. The dust flaked off, revealing a smooth

  metallic surface beneath. A tiny pulse rippled through his arm. Not a threat. Not a warning. But

  unmistakably artificial.

  “Well,” he said quietly, “it is not like I can protect Earth or survive in the guild system the way I am. I

  need anything that gives me a real chance. I cannot turn this over.”

  “I agree,” SC replied without hesitation.

  Bash pressed the relic more firmly against his chest. “Do it.”

  Sensation surged through him in a wave of warmth. It traveled from his sternum up to his shoulders

  and then down through his torso into his legs. His fingers tingled. His breath caught for a moment in

  surprise. The relic vibrated against his chest like it had taken its first breath in ages.

  He let out a slow breath. “That felt strange.”

  Bash looked down. His shirt lay flat. There was nothing beneath it. Nothing visible. Nothing to hide.

  “It absorbed into you,” SC confirmed. “That is its default linked state. Only you will be able to

  summon or access it now.”

  Bash flexed his fingers. “Feels strange.”

  “I am analyzing the interaction,” SC said. “Stand still.”

  Bash remained motionless for five seconds. Ten. The hum of the relic settled into a steady rhythm.

  “I will now attempt to unlink it,” SC said.

  “Go ahead.”

  The wave returned, this time in reverse. Instead of warmth spreading outward, it felt as though

  something was being gently pulled back into place. Bash gripped a nearby beam to steady himself even

  though he was not in danger of falling.

  “Did it work?” he asked.

  “Yes,” SC answered. “It unlinked successfully. Through neural scans, I detect no negative effects on

  your physiology. Although my access remains incomplete, I can identify no immediate harm.”

  Bash exhaled through his nose. “So far so good.”

  “Linking again,” SC said.

  The third wave swept through his body, familiar now, and he let out a steady breath when it passed.

  SC spoke again. “Your resonance signature is stable. The relic is now linked. If it remains linked while

  you leave this house, the team will not sense it. I will require time to adjust a counter resonance to

  mask it from guild-level scans, but I am confident. I have done this once before.”

  “Any chance they will notice anything today?”

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  “Ninety-nine percent confidence says no.”

  “Good enough,” Bash said.

  He walked toward the doorway at a normal pace and stepped outside.

  Kayris was waiting at the next house, wiping her blades with a cloth. She glanced at him.

  “Anything inside?”

  “Nothing,” Bash said casually. “Just debris.”

  “No insects?”

  “None.”

  “Lucky,” she muttered, then slipped into the next house to help her group.

  No one stared at him. No one paused or tilted their head. If the relic did anything to his resonance, none

  of them noticed.

  They finished sweeping the remainder of the district with their standard pattern. The team returned to

  the beginning of the street, checked each house a second time for potential relics, regrouped at the far

  corner, and Vanra gave orders to proceed to the next zone.

  “Next district,” she said. “Same strategy.”

  No one questioned him. No one sensed anything unusual.

  The next district passed smoothly. Bash followed behind the teams, checking each house while

  absorbing thel T3C time essence from remaining insects. The pulses pushed into him like faint taps

  now, a constant rhythm that no longer alarmed him.

  The third district of the day brought movement at the entrance.

  Orran raised his shield. “Hounds again.”

  Three packs emerged from the shadowed alleys ahead. The Gravitic Hounds sprinted silently, anchored

  by their high-density fields. Their eyes glowed with dull violet as they closed the distance.

  “Hold formation,” Vanra ordered.

  Orran raised his shield. “Hounds again.”

  Three packs emerged from the shadowed alleys ahead. The Gravitic Hounds sprinted silently, anchored

  by their dense gravity fields. Their eyes glowed with faint violet as they closed the distance.

  “Hold formation,” Vanra ordered.

  The team responded instantly.

  Orran moved to the left front, shield angled forward to brace the incoming charge. Tyrish stepped to the

  right front, both zweihanders lowered and ready. Rhoen and Korvex took their positions behind Orran,

  forming a solid ranged-and-support line. Vanra centered herself between behind front, preparing her

  wide, layered healing pulses.

  Bash positioned himself behind Tyrish, firearm raised.

  Korvex glanced back at him. “Activating.”

  She flicked her wrist, sending a tight burst of wind, water, and fire against Bash’s shoulder. The hits

  were light, controlled, almost gentle, but they each carried enough affinity to trigger his gear.

  Tyrish reached back without looking and tapped his fist against Bash’s upper arm. “Lightning and

  mineral. You are good.”

  Bash felt his suit respond. His catalyst layers shifted with a faint internal vibration as the affinities

  settled into place. His relic pulsed once, confirming the window had begun.

  “Twenty-five seconds,” Bash said. “I am ready.”

  The hounds closed in.

  Orran braced with a low stance. Tyrish drew both blades back. Kayris flashed to his flank in

  preparation.

  Vanra lifted her staff as the first of the violet eyes entered striking range.

  “Engage.”

  Orran braced one side with his shield angled forward. Tyrish took the opposite front corner, blades

  crossed. Rhoen and Korvex stepped behind Orran. Vanra supported both sides with wide-arc healing

  pulses.

  Bash positioned himself behind Tyrish, firearm raised.

  The hounds reached them in a wave.

  Orran caught the first impact with a shield block that shook the ground. Korvex sliced air currents

  across the front line, pushing back the hounds that tried to leap over. Rhoen provided cover with

  precise bursts, each shot delivering a healing pulse to the melee fighters.

  On the other side, Tyrish dug in. Kayris darted between the incoming hounds, slicing legs and forcing

  the pack to bunch up. Bash fired into the densest clusters, relying on the echoes his activated gear

  generated. The mixed affinities burned through the hounds, making it difficult for them to sustain their

  gravity fields.

  The packs fell quickly. The moment the last hound collapsed, Bash felt one hundred two pulses crash

  through him. He took a slow breath as SC confirmed the number.

  The team swept the rest of the district with ease. They cleared the fourth and fifth as well, working in

  practiced rhythm.

  Evening tinted the sky with gentle orange as Vanra paused near the central street.

  “We stop here for the night,” she said. “We start the next tier in the morning. Better to scout new areas

  in daylight.”

  The team agreed and moved into a sturdy house. Packs settled against walls. Rations were opened with

  familiar motion. The atmosphere was relaxed after a productive day.

  Vanra assigned shifts in her usual order. “Bash, first watch.”

  He nodded and moved to the doorway as the others slipped into rest positions. The house grew quiet

  one voice at a time as footsteps slowed and the settled breathing of resting Spartors replaced them.

  Bash sat near a broken window and watched the dimming sky as light faded between distant buildings.

  “Have you figured it out yet?” he asked quietly.

  “Mostly,” SC replied. “It is a storage relic. Spatial compression. Variable internal structure. The exact

  capacity remains unknown, but the outer behavior is consistent with void-storage technology.”

  Bash nodded slowly. “Anything dangerous about that?”

  “Not that I can detect. I will continue analyzing while the relic remains linked.”

  Time passed in low quiet. His shift ended when Tyrish rose for his turn. Bash handed the watch over

  without comment and returned to his spot.

  Sleep took him quickly.