At eighteen, he was already one of Neo-Tokyo’s Star Rookies, a prodigy and valued member of the Valiant Blaze Company. And he acted like one too. With his greatsword gleaming under the morning sun and suited up with armour most ill afford to own, he sauntered through the admiring crowd that soon parted way for him.
“Barely on time again,” Minnie, dressed in an all-white robe, muttered as she shot a glance around the park.
“Still made it, didn’t I?” Rhys flashed a grin.
“You’re lucky the captain hasn’t skinned you yet,” came the reply.
The man snorted. “Old man should retire already and let me run things.”
Those words earned him a sharp knock on the head from a massive hand. Duane ‘Ironshield’ Johnson loomed over him, seven feet of armour with a shield as large as a full-grown adult slung across his back.
“Rank up past Silver V first, rookie. Till then, this old man’s in charge. Got it?”
“Yes, Captain!”
Minnie’s answer was bright and eager, but Rhys offered a lazy shrug. The girl didn't miss a beat, burying an elbow in the Star Rookie’s side.
“Like usual, we’ll do a headcount,” Ironshield glanced at the two and then towards the crowd ahead. “Where’s Lucy? Bonesaw?”
Before anyone could answer, a voice called out to the trio from around the corner.
“Captain!” Lucy came rushing up in a t-shirt and jeans. “I’m here, I’m here!”
“And still not suited up,” Ironshield grumbled.
Lucy collected herself before letting out a smirk and flicking her fingers over a glowing screen. Her casual clothes melted away into a sorceress’s robe.
“Tadaa! Lucy the Mage.”
“More like Lucy the Sloth!” Bonesaw, who came out from the crowd, waved at the group. With his red mohawk and bare chest bursting out from the tight leather armour, he too commanded awe from the other onlookers. “I was here before sunrise. Even had time to take a dump.”
Minnie gagged. “Could you not?”
The banter cracked across the four with their leader still doing the prep work. Ironshield was a cautious man, but this time around, his caution got Minnie curious.
“When are we going inside, Capt?” she asked. “It's about time we-“
“No,” Ironshield replied, cutting her words short. “First, we wait.”
“Wait?” Rhys, who overheard their conversation, said with a tinge of dissatisfaction. “What do we wait for? All five of us are here and ready. So, we should go. Now.”
“Is it about the rumours, Boss?” Bonesaw asked.
“What rumours?” Lucy asked. And her expression changed for the worse when Bonesaw explained the rumours to the team.
“Yeah, right!” Rhys shook his head. “I smell bullshit. Cowards! All of them. It’s only a D-Rank RIFT. Easy peasy.”
However, when a line of black cars rolled into the park, and officers from the Neo-Tokyo Security Commission climbed out, dark shades and all, it was obvious that the rumours that Bonesaw overheard earlier were the truth. In fact, it was a watered-down version. Half an hour later, when the information was made clear, the park around the RIFT’s portal had turned into chaos.
Most were confused. Some were dissatisfied, while others struggled with the dilemma of whether to go forward or go home. And Ironshield, who was supposed to lead only his party of five from the Valiant Blaze Company, now had to lead a whole mashup of Players from other companies who too decided to venture forward into the unknown.
“A hundred Players, with the majority of them still newbies, are still too few. Too weak and inexperienced. Especially for an evolved RIFT,” Ironshield said as he glanced around the park. “There’s no precedent for this. Honestly, we should give up. Wait for higher-level Players.”
“Give up? Wait? With less than twenty hours?!” The Security Commission officer shook his head, sweat pouring from his eyebrow. “You know what will happen when we don’t clear a RIFT on time, right? We can’t afford another Cataclysm!”
“He got a point, old man!” Rhys popped up between the two. “You should stop being too damn cautious already. We Players got to take some risks, you know. Besides, evolved RIFT or not, what does it matter? We’ll clear them all. Easy peasy.”
“If only it were that simple,” Ironshield grumbled.
But he knew the Star Rookie was right. Without risk, there would never be a reward. The question, however, was whether it was worth it? In the end, despite his reservations, Ironshield went with the majority.
***
“I’ll remind you one more time! I. DO. NOT. WANT. YOUR. BLOOD. ON. MY. HANDS.”
Ironshield’s voice boomed throughout the courtyard.
“Follow my orders at all times. If you cannot continue, return to the real world. Make sure you’re not out of potions…”
Ironshield’s briefing went on longer than expected. Not until he was satisfied. By then, a few of the Players who gathered there had become agitated. Including Rhys.
“Move it, janitor!”
The Star Rookie shoved forward, his shoulder slamming into a figure clad in a dark green uniform standing by himself near the portal. The man staggered, his boots scuffing the dirt, but he didn't utter a word. He adjusted his grip on a heavy, worn bag before stepping aside.
“Pathetic. If you’re not a Player, don’t hog the bloody portal!”
“Oi!” Minnie hissed from the flank, her face losing its colour. “The hell are you doing? That’s a Cleaner.”
“So? The fuck do I care?” Rhys retorted, his lip curling. “If he’s a fucking Cleaner, he should know better than to stand in the way of real work.”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Bonesaw let out a low, jagged whistle. “That’s not any random Cleaner, dude. That’s Dr Frankenstein.”
“Who the fuck is that?” Rhys spat onto the ground. “A doctor? Like that? More like a bum than a doctor.”
The smirk on Lucy’s face vanished instantly. Minnie turned away, hands cupped on her ears.
Bonesaw shook his head in slow motion. “Hey, dude. You do you. But don’t go dissing that fellow. He’s... special. Let’s just say SeComm only calls him when there are messes people like you leave behind.”
“Special?” The Star Rookie snorted. “Sounds like a creep to me. And you know how I handle creeps like him? Watch and learn, ladies.”
Rhys let out a loud laugh that startled nearby Players before unsheathing his greatsword, giving it a couple of swings before pointing in the direction where the green-uniformed man went.
“Oi, you arsehole! Listen! I’ll clear this RIFT before you can even touch any bodies. Get that?! So, pack your fucking toys and get lost!”
The Cleaner didn’t answer, only to reply with a nod and a smile. Another much older Cleaner beside him was fuming but held back from saying anything else.
“Seems like you make friends everywhere you go, Rhys.”
The boy gave a half-hearted snort at Ironshield’s words. But as they fell into formation, following the veteran’s lead, Rhys’s restless energy ignited into a white-hot focus. The path was carved with ease. The end was no longer a hopeful target; it was a claim waiting to be staked.
***
<< Earth’s Time Left: 9 hours 17 minutes and 19 seconds before Cataclysm >>
<
“You know, Captain, I’ve been wondering,” Bonesaw said as the Valiant Blaze squad led the platoon down the mossy path. “What the hell’s an Orban’s Gift?”
“Boss’s name, probably,” Minnie replied before Ironshield could. “Like how it always is?”
“Always or not, it sounds cursed,” Bonesaw muttered. “My senses are tingling.”
“You and your senses, Boney. Since when do they work?” Rhys chuckled, resting his weapon behind his head. “You’re just tired, and it’s taking a toll on you. On everyone. Even the old man. But not me, the one and only Star Rookie.”
“Bah. Star rookie, my arse. I’m not tired one bit, you fresh-snot brat. But in case you’ve forgotten, we’ve been in this damned dimension for nearly four days.”
“Somehow, I agree with Bone,” Lucy added. “With this many people, this is taking way too long. It should be comple-”
“Heads up, everyone!” Ironshield’s bark from the rear cut through the chatter. “Hostiles incoming.”
“Damn. Another bloody bunch of Elite Goblins!” Bonesaw yanked his chainsaw-sword, its jagged teeth screeching with piercing echoes.
“And hobgoblins,” Rhys added, lunging forward as the first wave broke through the trees. “Mix it up for once! Where are the dragons and shit?”
“Stay in formation!” Minnie called, warm light gathering around her hands as her spells provided respite to the frontliners.
Rhys snorted, cleaving two more monsters in his path. “These trash mobs aren't even worth tanking. Admit it, old man. You’re enjoying your pre-retirement phase.”
Ironshield didn’t answer. His eyes scanned the treeline and then the mossy path ahead. The current squad was fine; they’d grown sharper over these long days. But the silence from the veteran teams who’d gone ahead? That gnawed at him.
They’d sent maps, monsters' bestiary and warnings of the route ahead. Even this hidden route was from their intel. But after that? Nothing. No reports. No signals. Only dead air through the comms.
Bonesaw’s senses were unreliable at best, but his words had planted a seed of caution in Ironshield’s mind. For now, he would observe the battlefield. If something went wrong, he would jump into action instantly. At worst, they would bail out of the RIFT altogether.
“Rhys, take the left!” Bonesaw shouted. “I’ll take the right. Let’s do the usual, eh?”
“Heh. Already killed three!”
“Five and counting!”
“Six!” Rhys called, slicing through a hobgoblin’s neck. “Seven! Eight!”
“Show-offs,” Lucy muttered, loosing another burst of fire from her staff.
Minnie sighed but kept her buffs rolling. Ironshield watched as a rare smile tugged at his scarred face. Despite everything, they were moving like a real unit now.
“Obstacles beget growth, huh?” he murmured.
Then, out of nowhere, a tremendous roar shook the forest. Critters that were hiding from the battles scattered throughout the area.
Their next obstacle had arrived.
***
The forest path spat them into a clearing. And at the end of it was a crude village, sprawled beneath the hills, its palisades half-rotted. Watchtowers tilted over a broken archway as Ironshield led his platoon deeper.
In the centre – a hulking nightmare given flesh – was the boss. With a large spike club in his hand, he stood tall and proud, towering over his other minions.
<< Name: ???? >>
<< Type: ???? >>
Until they defeated the enemies, Players wouldn't get the monster's data – especially for a boss. Every other field was a void of flickering question marks. Blanks. However, at the very least, the System would have provided a name and type.
Ironshield’s grip tightened on his shield. In decades of RIFT-crawling, the System had never failed to name a beast. Seeing those flickering question marks felt like staring into an open, unmarked grave.
The odds worsened against them as the boss’s guard swelled into an army. A wall of monsters – variants of goblins and orcs – now stood between the Players and their goal. But while Ironshield felt the cold touch of dread, his younger party members didn't care. To them, a larger horde meant a bigger spotlight.
It was a stage and not a grave.
“Big bastard, isn’t he?” Bonesaw grinned, his chainsaw-sword roaring to life once more.
“Ugly, too.” Rhys cracked his neck and rested his weapon on his shoulder. “Guess I’ll make him prettier.”
“Stay in formation!” Ironshield barked. “We are not-ah hell! Fall back, Rhys!”
His warning fell on deaf ears. The Star Rookie had already dashed forward, slicing through everything in his path. Alone, he paved a road toward the Boss. Bonesaw wasn’t to be left out, either. Taking the opposite flank, he tore through the monsters on his side.
Meanwhile, Lucy raised both hands as glyphs spilt across the air.
“Gravity Seal!”
The minions fell to their knees, groaning under the unseen weight. The other Players seized the opening, clearing them with ease. Ironshield heaved a sigh and shook his head.
“Left flank! Push!”
He slammed his shield forward, taking the brunt of a hammering strike that would have pulped three men. He held the line – unmovable, his scarred face remained stoic.
Rhys danced through the chaos; every swing a pose, every kill a performance. He cut down monsters like props in his own show. Minnie scrambled to keep his health intact while Lucy’s spells began to fray her throat. But they pushed on. Momentum was on their side. Meanwhile, Bonesaw’s lunatic laughter filled the air, drowning out the echoes of the fallen.
“Oi, Boney! Look!” Rhys called, vaulting off a fallen orc to slash at the boss’s throat. “Try not to get jealous!”
“Jealous?!” Bonesaw bellowed, driving his blade into a high orc’s ribs. “You’re stealing my boss kill!”
“Keep talking, and you’re the one getting killed!” Rhys grinned. Blood spurted onto his boyish face as he took a chunk of flesh off the Boss Monster.
The beast roared, swinging its club so wide it swatted its own minions like flies. Ironshield stepped in, absorbing the shockwave as his boots carved trenches in the dirt. Without him, the other oblivious and inexperienced Players would have turned into mush.
“Focus! Break him before he breaks us!”
The platoon surged. Spells lit the sky, and steel crashed against bone until the area was a cacophony of screams and maniacal laughter. At the height of it, Rhys leapt. His blade caught the sun, spinning down like a guillotine. It split the Boss Monster’s neck, sending a torrent of black blood across the dirt. Its head, heavy as a boulder, rolled and crashed through the firepits.
Silence fell. Then, the cheers followed.
“We did it!” Minnie rushed forward, throwing her arms around Rhys.
“Always the damn limelight,” Bonesaw complained, despite him grinning from ear to ear.
Lucy collapsed onto a crate, wiping sweat from her brow. “Finally. Now I can think about bubble baths.”
Rhys stood atop the corpse, striking poses like a conquering hero. His green eyes glittered like a morning star. “Told you. Easy peasy.”
Amidst the jubilation, the cheers, and the applause, only one person did not celebrate. As a veteran of hundreds of RIFTs, Ironshield was immune to the high. Professional numbness, they called it. Usually, once the Boss Monster died and the mission objective cleared-
Wait.
Cleared?
The boss had been dead for a while, but the System had yet to update. Ironshield looked around, his mind racing and his gut twisting in knots. His attention fell on the Nightshade High-Orc – Orban’s Gift. Rhys was still sitting on its dead body, striking victory poses for the ever-admiring Minnie.
The boss had twenty skills. That should have made it a complex and gruelling foe to face, yet it had been dealt with ease. If he were to classify this boss, at a push, it was D-class. Definitely not an evolved one, regardless of what the SeComm officials claimed this RIFT to be.
It couldn’t be. What if this boss was not-
A massive shadow loomed over the clearing, extinguishing the sunlight. A nightmare descended.
“LOOK OUT–RHYS! MINNIE!”