Magi left Guild Hall after the meeting, his thoughts preoccupied with numbers. C-Rank contracts offered nearly triple the compensation of D-Rank jobs, but the hours were longer, the paperwork more extensive, and the attention uncomfortable.

  The higher tax bracket would consume approximately twenty-two percent of his earnings.

  Still worth it, he calculated. Just less efficient than anticipated.

  He stopped at the intersection, waiting for the light to change.

  A vendor on the corner sold hot meat pies that smelled of garlic and rendered fat. His stomach grumbled. The meeting had run through lunch, and he hadn't eaten since morning.

  The convenience store across the street stocked decent pre-packaged meals. Not as satisfying as the pies, but thirty percent cheaper and with nutritional information printed on the label. He preferred knowing exactly what he consumed.

  The light changed. Magi crossed with the crowd, splitting off toward the store's entrance. Its glass doors slid open with a pneumatic hiss.

  "Mr. Necros?"

  A man stood just beside the entrance, dressed in a tailored charcoal suit that looked expensive without being flashy. His shoes gleamed with a recent polish. No visible weapons, though the suit jacket could conceal several.

  Magi paused. "Yes?"

  "Might I have a moment of your time?" The man's voice was pleasant, cultured. His smile revealed perfect teeth. "I promise not to take long."

  Raiders learned quickly to be wary of strangers who knew their names. Especially well-dressed strangers who smiled too easily.

  Magi glanced around. The sidewalk was busy with afternoon pedestrians. The convenience store's security camera pointed directly at them.

  Not an ideal place for trouble. That was reassuring.

  "I'm hungry," Magi said.

  The man's smile widened. "Of course. Please, get what you need. I'll wait."

  Magi entered the store, selected a protein bowl with brown rice and vegetables, and paid.

  The man remained outside, exactly where Magi had left him. He hadn't moved. Hadn't even checked his phone. Just waited, patient and still.

  When Magi emerged, the man gestured to a small seating area with metal tables bolted to the concrete.

  "May I join you while you eat?"

  Magi sat at the farthest table, one with clear sightlines in all directions. "You're not the same person who was in my apartment."

  "No." The man sat across from Magi, movements fluid and precise. "That was... an unfortunate first impression. We prefer more civilized approaches."

  "We?"

  "The Syndicate. Though I should clarify… I'm not here to threaten or intimidate you." He rested his hands on the table, palms down. A deliberate gesture of openness. "I'm merely a representative."

  Magi opened his meal and began eating. The rice was slightly overcooked, but the vegetables maintained adequate texture. He chewed slowly, watching the man.

  "You're not concerned," the man observed.

  "Should I be?"

  "Not at all." The man extended his hand. "Calvin Reeves, Senior Acquisitions."

  Magi looked at the hand, then back at Reeves's face. He did not shake it.

  Reeves withdrew his hand smoothly, unbothered. "The Syndicate has interests in certain artifacts that emerge from Rifts. We track anomalies, unusual energy patterns, dimensional variances. The technical details aren't important. What matters is that three days ago, an asset of ours became unstable and collapsed."

  "The bone construct?" Magi asked between bites.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  "No, Mr. Necros. The Rift itself."

  Magi paused, fork halfway to his mouth. "Rifts aren't stable by nature."

  "Some are, actually." Reeves folded his hands on the table. "Some Rifts are meant to remain open indefinitely. They're anchored to specific dimensional coordinates, designed to facilitate the transfer of energy and materials between planes."

  "Designed by who?"

  "That's a fascinating question." Reeves smiled thinly. "Perhaps we can discuss cosmology another time. For now, let's focus on the practical matter at hand. The Rift your team encountered three days ago should not have collapsed. Something, or someone… altered its fundamental structure."

  Magi continued eating. The conversation was heading into complicated territory. He didn't like complicated.

  "We believe," Reeves continued, "that you removed certain unstable assets from that Rift. Assets that should have remained operational."

  Magi considered this. "The loot boxes?"

  "Loot..." Reeves's polished demeanor cracked slightly. He blinked. "Oh. You mean the crystallized energy matrices that appear after certain entities are neutralized?"

  "The blue boxes with monster cores inside," Magi clarified.

  "No, Mr. Necros. Not those." Reeves leaned forward slightly. "I'm referring to the void signatures detected in the area. Specifically, the anomalous energy pattern that manifested immediately before the Rift collapsed."

  The void seed. The ring. Magi kept his expression neutral.

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "Come now." Reeves's smile returned, sharper this time. "You're an unusual individual, Mr. Necros. Your ability to manipulate basic attributes exceeds all known parameters. The way you nullified that necrotic blast? Most impressive."

  "I just practice the fundamentals."

  "Indeed." Reeves reached into his jacket and withdrew a small device, placing it on the table. It resembled a metal coin with a glass center. "The Syndicate respects your privacy. We have no interest in your personal affairs or your dealings with the Guild."

  He tapped the device. The glass center glowed faintly blue.

  "However, dimensional stability is our concern. The artifacts you removed have specific properties that don't align with your... basic approach."

  Magi finished his meal, closed the container, and set it aside. "What artifacts?"

  Reeves sighed. "Playing ignorant doesn't suit you. We know about the void seed and the necromantic focus."

  Magi remained silent.

  "Very well." Reeves tapped the device again, and the blue glow faded. "Let me be more direct. The Syndicate is prepared to compensate you generously for those items. Five million credits. Each."

  Ten million credits. Enough to buy an entire building in a good neighborhood, not just an apartment. Enough to retire from Raiding entirely.

  "What do they do?" Magi asked.

  "That's proprietary information."

  "You want me to sell items without knowing what they are."

  "I want you to return items that don't belong in this dimensional plane," Reeves corrected. "Items that are fundamentally incompatible with your abilities."

  Magi considered this. The void seed pulsed occasionally but otherwise did nothing. The ring had no effect on him at all. Both items were currently useless. Ten million credits for useless items seemed like an extremely favorable transaction.

  Which meant there was something he wasn't seeing.

  "What happens if I don't sell?"

  Reeves collected his device, returning it to his pocket. "Nothing dramatic. The Syndicate isn't in the business of coercion. We merely facilitate transactions between parties with aligned interests."

  "And if our interests don't align?"

  "Then we part as cordial acquaintances." Reeves stood, straightening his already immaculate suit. "Though I should mention, those artifacts require specific environmental conditions to remain stable. Conditions that can only be maintained with specialized equipment."

  He produced a business card from his breast pocket and placed it on the table.

  Unlike the previous Syndicate operative's card, this one actually contained information of name, contact details, and a small embossed symbol that resembled an infinity sign with a break in the middle.

  "Without proper containment, void-touched items have a tendency to... deteriorate." Reeves's smile never wavered. "Unpredictably."

  Magi picked up the card, examining it. "Is that a threat?"

  "A courtesy." Reeves buttoned his jacket. "We'll talk again, Mr. Necros. Have a pleasant evening."

  He walked away, merging seamlessly with the pedestrian traffic. No glance back. No hurry in his step. Just calm confidence.

  Magi sat for a moment, turning the card over in his fingers. Then he stood, collected his empty food container, and deposited it in the recycling bin.

  As he walked toward the Guild Hall, his mind worked through the conversation. Reeves had mentioned "void signatures" and "anomalous energy patterns." Terms that suggested more sophisticated monitoring than the Guild typically employed.

  The Syndicate knew things. Tracked things. Wanted things that apparently didn't belong in this dimension.

  A sudden thought stopped Magi mid-step.

  The slime mold containers. The ones they'd collected from the gelatinous cube colony. He'd sold them to the Alchemists' Collective for 1200 credits.

  If the void seed and ring were dimensional anomalies that "shouldn't" exist here, what about other Rift materials? What about the liquefied slime that had earned them a comfortable bonus?

  He recalled the unusual texture of the liquid, how it had shimmered faintly after he'd disrupted the colony's molecular bonds. How eagerly the alchemists had purchased it. How surprised they'd seemed at the quality.

  Magi checked the time. The Collective would be closing soon.

  If he hurried, he might be able to retrieve the containers before they were processed. Assuming they hadn't been already.

  He quickened his pace, calculating the probability that the slime samples were connected to the void artifacts.

  The timing aligned.

  The properties were unusual.

  The market value had seemed disproportionate to standard monster remains.

  The pieces fit together in a pattern he didn't like. A pattern that suggested he'd made a significant error in his assessment of the situation.

  The slime wasn't just valuable alchemical material.

  It was something else entirely. Something that, according to the Syndicate, shouldn't exist on this plane.

  And he'd just sold twenty-three containers of it.