He moved through his dark apartment, navigating around half-packed boxes.
The eastern sector apartment would be ready next week. Higher ceilings, better security, and most importantly, no shared walls.
The knocking continued, perfectly timed like a metronome.
Magi opened the door to find no one. Instead, a sealed envelope lay on his welcome mat, Guild insignia embossed on heavy paper.
He picked it up, examined both sides, and closed the door.
Back in his kitchen, he placed the envelope under the light. No transparency. No obvious tampering. Perfect corner folds.
Whoever delivered this wanted no fingerprints but their precision.
Magi opened it with a butter knife.
GUILD DIRECTIVE: IMMEDIATE RESPONSE REQUIRED
CLASSIFICATION: SENIOR ADMINISTRATIVE ORDER
AUTHORIZATION: PROTOCOL 7-DELTA
RECIPIENT: C-RANK RAIDER MAGIUS NECROS
The letterhead matched official Guild documentation. The watermarks shifted under the light as they should.
The print quality matched standard Guild formatting. But something felt wrong.
Magi continued reading.
[ASSIGNMENT DIRECTIVE:]
By power vested through Guild Charter Section 19, Subsection 7, you are hereby assigned to immediate special duty. This assignment supersedes all prior team commitments and current mission rotations.
[PARAMETERS:]
You will report to Sector 12, Grid Position 44E at 0700 hours.
You will enter and assess Rift Zone designation "Lambda-9."
You will document all findings through standard observation protocols.
You will report directly to on-site personnel.
[SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS:]
This assignment is classified under Guild Secrecy Code Orange.
You are prohibited from discussing this assignment with any party including your registered team.
No Guild Observer drone will accompany this mission.
Completion is mandatory under Guild Charter Oath, Section 3.
Magi placed the letter down. His hands remained steady.
He checked his Guild profile on his phone. No new assignments. No changed status. No notice of reassignment.
At the bottom of the letter, a final paragraph stood alone:
[COMPLIANCE NOTE:]
As per Raider Contract Section 42-B, refusal of direct administrative assignment during periods of dimensional instability constitutes breach of Charter Oath and results in immediate rank reduction and possible license suspension.
Report alone. Report equipped. Report promptly.
Magi checked Guild maps for Sector 12. The northeastern industrial zone, mostly abandoned factories and storage facilities. The kind of place Rifts often appeared, drew monsters, and closed naturally.
No current Rifts were marked in Sector 12.
He searched the Guild database for "Lambda-9" classification. No results.
Magi rechecked his assignment log. Echo Squad was scheduled for a western sector clearing operation in six hours. No conflicts, no changes, no notifications.
Someone wanted him alone at an unmarked location that didn't officially exist.
The letter looked authentic. The language matched Guild protocols, the threats sounded legitimate but official Guild orders appeared in the system first, then as written confirmation.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Never paper-only. Never delivered at 5 AM without digital backup.
He tapped his fingers on the counter three times. Then he made coffee.
While the water boiled, Magi methodically searched "Sector 12, Grid 44E" through public information channels. An abandoned processing plant closed eight years ago. No reported activity. No patrol schedules. No recent dimensional anomalies.
Perfect isolation.
Magi sipped his coffee and weighed his options, ignoring the letter risked his C-rank status if it was legitimate and reporting it to administrators would trigger investigations that would consume his day.
Following the instructions blindly would potentially lead him into danger.
He checked the time: 5:43 AM. The mysterious appointment was at 7:00 AM.
Magi finished his coffee, washed the cup, and dried it completely before setting it in the cabinet.
Then he dressed in his usual attire. Comfortable pants, plain shirt, dark hoodie. He filled a small pack with basic supplies.
He left his apartment at 6:15 AM, locking the door behind him. The morning air felt crisp against his face as he walked through empty streets.
At 6:55 AM, Magi stood across from the abandoned processing plant in Sector 12. The massive concrete structure loomed against the morning sky, broken windows like missing teeth. Chain-link fence surrounded the property, warning signs faded by weather and time.
No Guild vehicles. No visible security. No indication of official presence.
Magi checked his phone one more time. Still no system notification of special assignment.
At exactly 7:00 AM, he crossed the street and approached the fence. A section had been cut and folded back neatly. Recently, based on the clean metal edges. He stepped through.
The main entrance to the facility stood open, heavy doors pushed inward. Inside, dim emergency lighting created pools of yellow illumination every twenty meters. The air smelled of dust and metal.
Magi walked down the central corridor, footsteps echoing slightly. No sign of recent occupation. No equipment. No preparation for a Rift assessment.
After three hundred meters, the corridor opened to the main processing floor, a cavernous space filled with silent machinery. In the center, where conveyor belts once converged, a perfect circle had been cleared.
And in the center of that circle, a small table with a chair.
On the table: a tablet, a water bottle, and another envelope.
Magi approached slowly, examining the scene. No trip wires. No pressure plates. No obvious surveillance beyond the factory's decayed security cameras. He reached the table and picked up the envelope.
The paper was different this time. Heavier. Cream-colored. No Guild insignia.
He opened it.
Mr. Necros,
Your promptness is appreciated. Please be seated.
The tablet contains relevant information about today's task. You have been selected based on your unique approach to dimensional energy manipulation.
You will notice there is no Rift present in this location. There was. It has been managed through alternative means.
Your assignment is not from the Guild. It is, however, vital to both dimensional stability and your continued anonymity.
Please activate the tablet.
Office of Dimensional Management
Magi sat down and turned on the tablet.
The screen illuminated with a simple interface, a map of the city with eight locations marked in red. Each location showed a small pulsing dot labeled "Inactive."
He tapped one. A data panel appeared:
[DESIGNATION: Micro-Rift Alpha-3]
[STATUS: Sealed (Temporary)]
[STABILITY: 73% and declining]
[CONTAINMENT: 12 hours remaining]
[EMERGENCE POTENTIAL: B-Rank Entity]
[GUILD AWARENESS: None]
Magi tapped another location. Similar data appeared, with different stability percentages and containment timelines.
At the bottom of the screen, a single button glowed green: "ACCEPT DIRECTIVE."
Magi placed the tablet down and examined the water bottle. Factory-sealed. He opened it and took a sip. Water. Nothing more.
He closed his eyes for thirty seconds, considering the situation. Then he tapped the green button.
The screen changed to display a single location. The closest red dot, approximately two kilometers away. A timer appeared: 11:42:15 and counting down.
A new message appeared:
[First Directive]
Proceed to designated location. You will find a sealed micro-Rift. It is currently contained by temporary measures. These measures will fail within the indicated timeframe.
[Your task: permanently neutralize this dimensional anomaly using your unique capabilities.]
No Guild resources will be deployed to this location.
No record of this anomaly exists in official systems.
No witnesses should observe your intervention.
Complete all eight neutralizations within 24 hours.
Compensation will be arranged upon completion.
[Important:]
The Guild remains unaware of these anomalies. Our organization prefers this arrangement continues.
Magi read the message twice, then checked the map again. The first location was in an abandoned subway maintenance tunnel. The second in a closed community center. The third beneath a highway overpass.
All places where someone could work unobserved.
All places where "dimensional anomalies" could threaten civilians without warning.
All places someone had already visited to place "temporary measures."
Magi stood up, tucking the tablet into his pack. The assignment wasn't from the Guild. The locations weren't in Guild records. The "Office of Dimensional Management" wasn't a recognized agency.
But someone knew about his "unique capabilities." Someone had monitored his performance. Someone needed his specific approach to energy manipulation.
Someone who could convincingly forge Guild documents.
Someone who knew where he lived.
Someone tracking Rifts outside official channels.
Magi checked the time: 7:16 AM. Echo Squad would be meeting for their mission briefing in less than four hours. His absence would be noticed. Questions would be asked. Administrative flags would be raised.
But eight "micro-Rifts" with failing containment meant potential catastrophe for unwitting civilians.
He pulled out his phone and sent a message to Marc:
"Need personal day. Family emergency. Will explain later. Sorry for short notice."
It wasn't a good excuse. It wouldn't hold up to scrutiny. But it might buy him the hours needed to address these anomalies.
Magi left the processing plant through a side exit, following the tablet's navigation toward the first location. As he walked, he considered the implications.
A shadow organization monitoring dimensional anomalies.
Knowledge of his abilities beyond what he'd demonstrated publicly.
Resources to forge Guild documents and track unmarked Rifts.
Interest in keeping both their existence and his involvement secret from the Guild.
The Syndicate? Possible, but they'd approached him directly before. This felt different. More methodical. Less commercial.
The first location was twenty minutes away on foot. Magi checked the tablet again 11:22:47 remaining on the containment clock. Plenty of time to reach it, assess the situation, and decide whether to proceed.
He folded the letter neatly, tucked it into his inner pocket, and quickened his pace.
"Eight Rifts in one day," he muttered to himself. "That's inconvenient."
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