《Berserker》


 Chapter 1: The Last Call

    Jonathan paced in front of his whiteboard.


    ¡°Alright, everyone, let¡¯s focus up. Today, we''re going to discuss the Roman Empire. At its height, it controlled vast territories and influenced a large part of the known world. We¡¯ll explore not only their impressive architecture and engineering but also the military strategies that allowed them to expand so effectively.¡±


    ¡°The Roman legions were the key to their success. They were soldiers trained to be disciplined and cohesive on the battlefield. One of their notable formations was the ''Testudo,'' where soldiers would align their shields to form an impenetrable-¡±


    A hushed whisper interrupted his train of thought, and he continued speaking while crossing the room to the quiet commotion. ¡°- an impenetrable barrier. This tactic was critical during sieges and in the face of enemy archers. But while the military might have contributed significantly to Roman expansion, it¡¯s essential to consider the political and social structures that came into play. Isn¡¯t that right, Jacob?¡±


    The teenager froze in his chair. He¡¯d been turned around while holding his cell phone out for another student to look at the screen. The senior class clown slowly turned around in his chair. While his smile was guilty, Jonathan could tell by the boy¡¯s body language that he wasn¡¯t worried or threatened by being caught disrupting class.


    In some ways, the kid made Jonathan think of himself.


    He uncrossed his arms and looked down at the young man. ¡°Well, let¡¯s have it.¡± Jonathan held out his hand until the phone was handed over.


    Looking at the screen, he saw a still image of a panicked street.


    Jonathan¡¯s brow furrowed, and he pressed play. The class was quiet as the chaotic screams played in stereo. The shaky mobile footage panned the scene.


    ¡°Ah,¡± he let out a breath of relief when a giant blue portal came into view. ¡°watching more of these AI-generated videos, Jacob?¡±


    ¡°C¡¯mon, Mr. Reeves. This one¡¯s real, I swear it.¡±


    Jonathan rolled his eyes and walked back to his desk, holding the phone. ¡°You swore that the girl last week had real cat ears, too.¡±


    Most of the class snickered, and when Jonathan saw Jacob smile sheepishly, rather than get angry or embarrassed, he also gave a small smile.


    ¡°See me after class. You can have your phone back then.¡±


    The rest of his class went by without incident, and when Jacob stayed after to get his phone back, Jonathan had a more serious conversation with the boy.


    ¡°Jacob, your grades have been slipping in my class. This,¡± he gestured to the phone which lay on his desk between the two of them. ¡°is not the best use of your time.¡±


    Jacob hung his head.


    Jonathan found that without an audience, students like Jacob could be much more reasonable. This was why he made an effort to give them one-on-one attention.


    They exchanged a few more words, and Jonathan agreed not to bring up the incident with Jacob¡¯s wrestling coach as long as the boy showed him the website where he¡¯d found the video.


    Without another class for the day, Jonathan sat at his desk in the empty classroom and brought up the website.


    ¡°Nexus Hub,¡± he read aloud.


    As the website loaded, a pop-up appeared asking if he wanted to allow the site to track cookies.


    ¡°Damned cookies,¡± he clicked reject all and scrolled through the home page.


    Jonathan was shocked at the number of articles posted about these supposed Rift breaks. The most striking headline read, "Blue Portals Appear in Downtown Streets ¨C Witnesses Report Strange Creatures." Clicking into the most recent two, he saw similar cellphone pictures or videos to the one that Jacob had been passing around.


    Running his fingers through his beard, he thought for a few seconds.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    He opened a new tab and used his index fingers to click out a few of the headlines. Shockingly, no major new stations appeared in his Google search.


    Troubled, Jonathan closed his laptop and slid it into his backpack. He waved and gave a friendly grunt to two of his colleagues as he walked down the empty hall toward the front doors of the high school.


    As he reached his black truck, he tapped the bumper sticker before getting in. The October air was cold and damp, a light mist hanging in the air. He rolled up his sleeves and grabbed the steering wheel, the metal bracelet on his wrist catching the afternoon light. The drive home wasn''t far. Drizzle tapped on the windshield, blurring the grey scenery. Before he left the parking lot, he used the Bluetooth to make a call.


    It rang a few times before Mike picked up.


    ¡°Reeves! You old dog, how''s the school grind treating you?¡± Mike''s voice was as warm and familiar as ever, bringing a small smile to Jonathan''s face.


    ¡°Same as ever, Mikey. Eh, the kids can be a handful. But you and I both know I¡¯m not in it for the accolades.¡± Jonathan replied, keeping his tone light.


    ¡°Right, right. Just molding the minds of tomorrow, one wild story at a time,¡± Mike chuckled. ¡°What¡¯s got you thinking about the past today?¡±


    Jonathan paused for a moment, thinking about the unsettling footage he had seen earlier. ¡°Actually, I just had a strange incident in class. A student was showing around a video. At first, I thought he was showing news footage of a war or riot. There was a bunch of chaos, and then it turned to this blue light. I dismissed it as fake since it looked like one of those old monster movies.¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah?¡± Mike said, some of the levity leaking form his tone.


    ¡°Yeah, but it sent me down a rabbit hole. The kids are buzzing about these so-called Rift breaks, and I can''t find any reliable info. The usual news channels aren¡¯t even touching it. Most everything I could find was all on one sketchy-looking forum site.¡±


    ¡°Trust me, you¡¯re better off not getting sucked into that drama. It¡¯s just a bunch of hype,¡± Mike replied, but Jonathan could hear a more serious note creeping in.


    ¡°C¡¯mon, we both know the world¡¯s gotten weirder lately. Are you telling me you think it¡¯s just kids making stuff up?¡± Jonathan leaned slightly forward in his seat, gripping the wheel tighter.


    ¡°Listen, Jon, I can''t get into details, but we''ve got our hands full. The government''s clamping down on info. Just stay safe, okay?¡±


    Jonathan frowned, a knot tightening in his stomach. ¡°Stay safe? Coming from you, that¡¯s pretty rich, Mike. Anything I should be worried about? Are we looking at a situation kinda like Panama?¡±


    Mike let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. ¡°Oh, no. This is more like Nicaragua, brother.¡±


    ¡°Fuck.¡±


    ¡°Yeah¡­¡± Mike let the implications hang in the open. ¡°Just... keep your head on a swivel, alright? I¡¯ll try to get some clarity on this end. sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Right,¡± Jonathan replied, fighting the rising sense of dread. ¡°Thanks for the heads up. I just don¡¯t want to sit around and do nothing while something¡¯s brewing.¡± His thoughts went to Marcus and David.


    ¡°We¡¯ll figure it out, as we always do. Stay sharp, Jon,¡± Mike said before the line clicked off.


    Jonathan forced his grip to loosen on the steering wheel and leaned back in his seat, trying to steady his breathing. He adjusted his hand and cracked the truck window before cursing to himself again.


    Sitting in his home, he let the news channel play on the television while his laptop was in his lap. The living room was neat but lived-in. A sturdy leather couch faced the television, with a neatly folded blanket draped over one arm. A few books were stacked on the coffee table, next to a single coffee mug. He looked through several more of the forum posts, feeling the uneasiness rise. It didn¡¯t take long for him to stand and grab his cell phone.


    He called David, though it went to voicemail.


    Jonathan knew Marcus, his eldest son, was still working, but he gave him a ring anyway. It, too, went to voicemail, as expected.


    After pacing through the living room, he moved to the garage to quickly check his go-bags. The garage smelled of oil and metal, the cold concrete underfoot reminding him of early mornings in the field. The lighting was dim, but everything was in its place- tools lined up neatly, gear ready to grab at a moment''s notice. It was the kind of order that came naturally to him, a habit formed over years of preparation.


    He¡¯d made it through his main pack and was moving to the safe when his cell phone rang.


    ¡°Marcus?¡±


    ¡°Dad? Hey, I¡¯ve only got a second,¡± Marcus¡¯s voice came through the phone. Immediately, Jonathan could hear the tension in his son''s throat.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong, son?¡±


    ¡°Nothing, we¡¯re heading out for an emergency in Yakima. They haven¡¯t given us information, but the entire Battalion is kitting up.¡±


    ¡°They''re sending you guys state-side? Is it one of those portals?¡±


    ¡°How did you-¡± Marcus cut his sentence off. ¡°Shit, we¡¯re not supposed to talk about details like that. Sorry, Dad. I shouldn¡¯t have even mentioned Yakima. I¡¯m only allowed to call because it¡¯s considered a deployment, and we¡¯re waiting for Bravo Company to go through a roster check.¡±


    Not wanting to push him, Jonathan moved the conversation away from the details and focused on his son. ¡°It¡¯s alright. Look, keep calm. Stay alert and keep your head down. You hear me? Don¡¯t be a hero.¡±


    The last sentence made Marcus laugh, and Jonathan cracked a smile.


    ¡°I won¡¯t be a hero. Your name is known around here well enough for the both of us. Dad, I¡¯ve been-¡± His voice cut out, and yelling could be heard from the other side of the line. ¡°Dad, I¡¯ve got to go. Call David and tell him for me, alright? Love you, pops.¡±


    ¡°I love you too, son.¡± The line cut before he could finish the sentence.


    The ball of tension that had been growing in Jonathan¡¯s gut felt like it had doubled in size and slowly began to rise in his throat.


    He rubbed his forehead and tried to call David again.


    When he didn¡¯t answer, Jonathan pocketed the phone and punched in the code to his safe. The satisfying weight of the door strained his muscles as he swung it open to reveal a small arsenal.


    He touched the picture of a beautiful brown-haired woman hanging on the Velcro-covered inside of the door.

 Chapter 2: Gone Dark

    Jonathan''s phone sat on his desk, drawing his eyes every few seconds. He hadn¡¯t slept well the night before, and his classroom was empty between periods.


    Sitting back, he turned away from his laptop and scanned the room. Sunlight cut sharp shapes across his whiteboard where his neat, all-caps handwriting outlined the day¡¯s lesson. He was usually able to teach about Civil War battles in his sleep, but he couldn''t focus on the lesson, even with his notes.


    He checked his messages again.


    His hand moved unconsciously to straighten his tie for the third time that hour, then drifted back to the phone. A half-graded stack of papers sat untouched on his desk, and an uncapped red pen slowly dried out next to them. His typically meticulous approach to grading had given way to distracted glances between his phone and laptop screen.


    The news sites remained stubbornly silent about anything related to the Rifts. The only thing out of the norm he could find was a Facebook reference from a distant friend about odd military movements in Eastern Washington.


    He tabbed over to the Nexus Hub website and continued to press refresh, hoping for any recent news or reports. He clicked into the latest report and read a short post about awakening someone¡¯s inner power. He dismissed the idle chatter and continued to refresh the page.


    ¡°Uhm, Mr. Reeves?¡±


    He looked up to see Lizzy, one of his AP students. She was standing near his desk with an awkward look on her face. Her usually confident posture seemed unsure.


    ¡°The bell rang three minutes ago,¡± she said.


    ¡°Right,¡± Jonathan straightened and tucked his phone into his pocket. ¡°Thank you, Lizzy. You can return to your seat.¡± He managed a smile that didn¡¯t quite reach his eyes. He continued his lesson, starting with Gettysburg.


    The next several days blurred together, and each day felt longer than the last. He found himself losing his place mid-lecture more than once, and his usually engaging discussions about military history and conquest felt hollow.


    During his planning periods, he called David, but it always went to voicemail.


    ¡°Son, it¡¯s Dad. Just¡­ call me when you can.¡± His voice was steady and professional; he knew it wouldn¡¯t help things with David, but he wasn¡¯t sure how else to talk about what was happening. Even after he hung up, it felt like leaving a message for a colleague instead of his youngest son.


    The faculty lounge became unbearable. There were too many concerned glances and well-meaning questions about if he was sleeping enough. He started taking his lunch in his classroom, where he¡¯d mechanically eat his pre-packed lunch and refresh the news sites.


    On the third day, he snapped at Jacob for dropping his textbook during a crucial point about the destruction and impact of Sherman¡¯s March.


    ¡°For God¡¯s sake, Miller, some basic coordination would be appreciated.¡± Jonathan¡¯s words came out sharper than intended, and they carried a military bark that was entirely out of place in his high school classroom.


    The sudden silence was deafening. Twenty-eight pairs of eyes stared at him. They were so unused to seeing their usually composed and nurturing teacher lose his cool over something so minor.


    After class, he called Jacob back to his desk.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about earlier,¡± he said. He leaned back on his desk as he spoke to the boy. ¡°I¡¯m not myself lately.¡±


    The teen shrugged, but Jonathan could see the lingering confusion and hurt in his eyes. ¡°It¡¯s cool, Mr. Reeves. My dad gets like that sometimes, too.¡±


    Jonathan¡¯s throat tightened, and he felt like he¡¯d been punched in the gut. ¡°Right. Well, I wanted to apologize and let you know that I was in the wrong. I shouldn¡¯t have spoken to you like that.¡±


    There was a moment of silence as Jonathan waited to make eye contact with the boy. The teenager nodded and shrugged again, feeling uncomfortable from the serious attention.


    ¡°Jacob, there was something else that I wanted to ask you about. That Nexus Hub website you were on last week.¡±


    The boy seemed confused.


    ¡°I was wondering if you¡¯d heard any other news lately,¡± Jonathan said.


    When Jacob answered that, he hadn¡¯t really been paying any more attention to the site, as he and his friends were beginning to think that the videos were faked.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    Small things that had been a long-standing part of Jonathan¡¯s routine became impossible. Going to the gym became an exercise in finding any spot where he hadn¡¯t worked out with Marcus on his previous leave trip home.


    David¡¯s first response came on Thursday evening.


    David: Stop calling. I can¡¯t deal with this right now. Midterms.


    Jonathan stared at those harsh words until he was worried his vision might blur. He stood still for several minutes, grappling with the desire to act. To call his son, grab his shoulders, explain his frustration¡­ to give him a hug.


    Jonathan: Strange things are happening with Marcus¡¯s deployment. Call when you can.


    Then, after a moment¡¯s hesitation, he sent another.


    Jonathan: Love you, son.


    The words felt hollow with the distance between them, but he meant them.


    He did his best to monitor Nexus Hub, but was frustrated as he realized that some posts were being taken down. Whole threads vanished, often leaving broken links and leaving Jonathan to curse


    Jonathan started sleeping in his study, where his laptop could stay open on the charger, and he could monitor news sites. His phone was always within reach, even at school. His colleagues noticed the change as well.


    Principal Martinez pulled him aside after a faculty meeting to check on him.


    ¡°Jonathan, is everything alright? You seem¡­ very distracted lately.¡±


    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m fine,¡± he answered automatically. ¡°Just some family matters I¡¯m dealing with. Nothing to worry about.¡± sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    She didn¡¯t look convinced but didn¡¯t press further. ¡°You know my door is always open.¡±


    He nodded in response but was already checking his phone again.


    That week blended together for Jonathan. He could do nothing, and no solution or plan of action could get him closer to the answers he needed.


    He was organizing his garage with the door open when he heard a distinct crunching of tires on his driveway. Leaning his head around the corner, he watched a black sedan roll to a stop. Two figures emerged in dress blues; both were high-ranking officers, and one was wearing a chaplain¡¯s insignia that caught his eye.


    Thirteen years of military service crystallized into that single moment.


    He paused and it seemed like the already grey October sun dimmed further.


    He walked into the house and to the front door. His body was moving of its own accord, and his head felt light, disconnected from everything around him.


    He opened the door as the knock came.


    ¡°Mr. Reeves?¡± The Casualty Notifications Officer Spoke with practiced precision. ¡°I regret to inform you¡­¡±


    Jonathan¡¯s back straightened automatically. Old habits kicked in, taking over the need to think with what his brain thought was the most defensible posture.


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡± His voice came from somewhere far away. ¡°Understood, sir.¡±


    The chaplain glanced at Jonathan''s white-knuckled grip on the door. "Your son died in service of his country. Due to the classified nature of the operation¡­¡±


    More words followed, but none of them mattered. Marcus was gone. Not missing, not injured- gone. Jonathan stood rigid, responding with crisp answers while his world crumbled silently around him. The military bearing held him together like a brace, decades of training keeping him upright when his body threatened to collapse.


    He thanked the officers for their time and consideration before closing the door with care. He walked to the kitchen with measured steps and paused. Unsure of how to proceed, Jonathan rolled up his sleeves and began to clean his breakfast dishes.


    Flashbacks began to assault him. A young boy was getting his pants pulled down as the old family dog had tried to latch onto his leg. Getting a call from the high school about a boy fighting and standing up to a bully. Cheering at a wrestling match. Two brothers pulling a prank on their neighbor.


    There wasn¡¯t an order, rhyme, or reason to the memories. They assaulted him until his hand began to shake, and he dropped a plate. It slipped from his grasp and shattered in the sink. He stared at the pieces and realized that his hands were gripping the counter so hard that the ceramic topper was beginning to creak.


    The walls of his house seemed to pull in around him, and he clenched his jaw.


    He found himself moving toward Marcus¡¯s old room without conscious thought.


    His space was exactly as it had been left three years before. Only lightly lived in during the weeks that Marcus could come home and visit during leave. He looked around and straightened a corner of the bed sheets before noticing the gym bag and schedule on his wall.


    They¡¯d outlined the workouts together, preparing him for his Ranger Assessment and Selection course. Next to the printout, he saw a picture pinned to the corkboard. The photo was of Marcus and Emma at a Huskies game, both smiling and wearing jerseys that he¡¯d complained were entirely too expensive.


    The trembling in Jonathan¡¯s hands finally ceased. Grief crystallized into something much darker. Into something that would have worried him if he could still feel anything at all. He touched the photo, and his index finger tracked his son¡¯s smile.


    The house settled around him, empty and still. No more phones to check. No more news to refresh. No more waiting.


    Just the silence and the dangerous calm that filled it.


    In the growing darkness, Jonathan sat at Marcus''s desk, staring at the photo. His son''s smile blurred and sharpened with each slow blink. The rage building in his chest was different from anything he''d felt before. It wasn''t hot like combat adrenaline or sharp like fury. This was cold.


    The house seemed to mirror his mood, settling around him, quiet and empty. David wouldn¡¯t answer his call, not since their last fight before he left for college.


    Jonathan¡¯s jaw clenched. He felt he had failed one son for pushing too hard, and now he¡¯d lost the other to some freak accident and wouldn¡¯t get closure because of the classified nature of the mission.


    He pulled out his phone one last time and punched in David''s number.


    It went straight to voicemail.


    "David." His voice was steady now. Too steady. "Your brother''s gone. I¡¯m going to find some answers.¡±


    When he hung up, the words seemed to echo in his ears. His steady hands set the phone down on Marcus¡¯s desk, and he straightened the already-straight items. He stood and walked to the mirror on top of the dresser and slowly lifted a set of spare dog tags Marcus had left after airborne school.


    He hung them around his neck before walking out of the room and closing the door with an almost inaudible click.

 Chapter 3: Seeking Answers

    Jonathan sipped on the bitter coffee in his mug. His phone lay on the wooden kitchen tabletop. He took a deep breath, letting memories of Marcus wash over him. As it rang on speaker, he looked at Marcus¡¯s dog tags in his fingers. They were still taped with thin strips of duct tape at the top and bottom. It was a tradition in RASP for the instructors to have the young soldiers tape the tags together to prevent the rattling noise, citing the need to be silent.


    He remembered the pride he felt when his son came home on his first leave, trying so hard to be older and more mature. The pride and sense of importance from completing the selection process was still fresh in Marcus''s demeanor. They¡¯d shared a beer, and when Marcus spoke about embodying the unit''s ideal of the ''silent professional,'' they bonded on a level deeper than just friends or father and son. Jonathan could see the man his son was becoming, and Marcus began to understand the deeper reasons behind his father''s way of living.


    ¡°Hey, you¡¯ve reached Mike. Leave a message.¡±


    Jonathan sighed and tapped the red button to end the call with Mike.


    He scrolled down through the contact list until he found Jimmy Chen and put the call on speaker as it rang. Realizing that he was exhausted and reminiscing wasn¡¯t productive toward his goal, Jonathan put the dog tags around his neck and touched the space bar of his laptop to wake it back up.


    Jonathan had dozens of tabs open, making navigation frustrating. Each briefly mentioned odd military movements or rumors of a friend gaining superpowers. His search was focused on eastern Washington, especially the Yakima area.


    ¡°It¡¯s Jim. Leave your name and number, and I¡¯ll-¡±


    He ended the call and scrolled down to his next contact. Dawson was still in the service but leading a battalion in the Big Army at this point in his career.


    Jonathan called him anyway.


    Setting his coffee down, he turned his full attention back to the laptop.


    ¡°Who would have thought that this damned social media would be my main source of news,¡± Jonathan grumbled.


    Many of the people Jonathan knew through the years didn¡¯t actually leave Washington State even after their term of service was finished. Instead, they would move to one side of the mountain range or the other, preferring to stay in the gorgeous, temperate state.


    This meant that he had plenty of Facebook connections in the area, though he did reduce the number by quite a bit when he began looking for those on the eastern side of the state.


    ¡°You¡¯ve reached-¡± sea??h th§× N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    He clicked into a video someone had posted of the highway being shut down and complaining about the inconvenience. The video showed twenty to thirty cars stopped on the highway as a military convoy blew by them at high speed.


    Jonathan saw that it was posted by Susan, who was a connection of one of Tim York¡¯s. When he clicked on Tim¡¯s profile, he realized it was the now-grown son of a York that he served with.


    Scrolling through his phone, he couldn¡¯t find a number for York. He sent a message to Tim York instead. He shared his phone number and told him that he served in the military with his father, hoping to get a call soon.


    Jonathan sat back in his chair, watching the video play through another time. The vehicles were moving by at such high speeds it was clear that they were traveling somewhere in a hurry. The timestamp showed that it was from two days ago, which meant whatever the military was moving had already reached its destination. He watched the heavy trucks roll past the stopped civilian vehicles one more time before closing the tab.


    The clock on his laptop showed 6:43 AM. He needed to handle the school situation before anything else.


    Twenty minutes later, Jonathan pulled into the faculty parking lot at Cascade High School. The lot was mostly empty this early, with just a few cars belonging to the administration and early-arriving teachers.


    Inside, the fluorescent lights hummed, and his boots sounded loud as he took long strides through the hallway. Jonathan nodded to Mrs. Peterson who worked the front desk. She looked up from her computer and smiled at him, always chipper even at this early hour.


    ¡°Jonathan? You¡¯re not usually in this early,¡± she said.


    ¡°I need to talk with Doug if he¡¯s in.¡±


    She studied his face for a moment. Whatever she saw, it was enough for her to stand from her desk and walk to the assistant principal¡¯s office. She disappeared through the heavy wooden door for a short time before re-emerging. A minute later, Doug Whitney ushered Jonathan into his office with a smile.


    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    ¡°What¡¯s on your mind?¡± Doug asked, settling behind his desk.


    Jonathan remained standing, avoiding the chair across from Doug. ¡°I need to take some emergency family leave.¡± Jonathan kept his voice even. ¡°My son passed away.¡±


    Doug¡¯s professional demeanor softened, ¡°I¡¯m so sorry, Jonathan. Of course, take whatever time you need. Was it David or-¡±


    ¡°Marcus.¡± Jonathan gave his boss a nod and turned to the door. ¡°I¡¯ll email my lesson plans to the department head.¡±


    ¡°Jonathan, wait,¡± Doug called. ¡°We have resources, counseling services, and-¡±


    ¡°Thank you,¡± Jonathan closed the door behind him. He knew that if he was going to make it out East before things settled down, he needed to act quickly, and any more wasted time could cause him to miss his chance.


    He had an obligation to his job and the students he taught, so he would do what he needed to ensure those responsibilities were taken care of, but being polite and catering to what others thought he needed was beyond what Jonathan had to give at the moment.


    Back in his truck, Jonathan pulled out his cell phone and checked REI''s opening hours on his phone. When he saw he had another hour before it opened, he drove home and began to catalog his gear. Even though most of it was fresh in his mind from earlier in the week, this time, he went through it with a purpose and created a list of anything he might be missing.


    Several things needed to be replaced and restocked. A med kit that had been stored since his time in service needed to be replaced; the gauze bandages were stuck together from years of sitting in a humid garage. Some chem lights could also be replaced, and the battery on his headlight was dead. He finished his list and got back in his truck after plugging in some of the electronics he would need to charge for an outing.


    When Jonathan arrived shortly after opening, the store¡¯s parking lot was nearly empty. He grabbed a cart and headed straight for the camping section. Near the hiking gear, he found a detailed topographical map of Eastern Washington. While his Garmin could detail most things, he had run into enough technological issues in the field to know that there should always be a manual backup.


    While there, he tossed a few additional items in his cart: a compass, waterproof markers, and spare moisture-wicking socks.


    He grabbed some freeze-dried meals, a new headlamp, and all the other items on his list.


    When he got back to his truck, he felt his phone buzz and checked it to find that Tim York had messaged him back.


    Tim: Mr. Reeves? My dad has mentioned you before. Something is definitely going on out here. Not sure why you want to talk with Susan, but here¡¯s her number. How have you been?¡±


    Jonathan didn¡¯t respond to the message but clicked the phone number, which automatically began the call through his phone. He jumped into his truck and began heading toward his house.


    ¡°Hello?¡± A cheerful voice answered.


    ¡°Susan? My name is Jonathan Reeves; Tim York gave me your number.¡±


    ¡°Oh- oh, okay?¡±


    ¡°I saw your video of the military convoy-¡±


    ¡°Oh my god, isn¡¯t it crazy? I¡¯ve got like three more videos now. They keep coming through at night, too. All of these weird lights in the sky at night. My friend Kelly swears she saw something that looked glowing on the surrounding trees at night. I think it¡¯s aliens. I mean, what else could it be, right?¡±


    Jonathan blinked several times, trying to keep up with her. He pulled over on the shoulder of the road after passing through a stoplight.


    ¡°Can you tell me exactly where you saw that convoy?¡± He reached across into the passenger seat and removed the map he¡¯d purchased in the store.


    ¡°It was on Highway 24!¡±


    ¡°Do you happen to remember where exactly they made you pull off the road?¡±


    ¡°Sure do! It was right by the turnoff to Mattawa- there¡¯s a split in the road but they closed off both of them. There was this huge line of trucks, all painted in that weird digital camo. But that''s not even the weirdest part. My brother works at the airport, and he says they''ve been flying in all this strange equipment. Really sci-fi looking stuff. And get this - some guy at the coffee shop was telling me his friend suddenly got super strong, like lift-a-car strong! Can you believe it?¡±


    He mostly tuned out the rest of her chatter as he traced along the highway on the map. After marking the spot on the map with a small red circle, he asked, ¡°When was your most recent sighting of the military movements?¡±


    "Just last night! Around 2 AM - I couldn''t sleep so I was watching out my window. All these helicopters flying east, toward the mountains. I got it on video, too. Want me to send it to you?"


    "Please." Jonathan studied the map, noting the flight path. "And Susan? If you see anything else..."


    "Oh, I''ll definitely keep filming! This is like, the most exciting thing that''s ever happened here. Everyone''s talking about it, even if the news is pretending nothing''s going on. My TikTok followers are going crazy over these videos!"


    After saving her contact information, Jonathan remained parked and studied the map. The activity seemed concentrated around the eastern edge of the training center, near the more mountainous terrain. The drive would take at least three hours, longer if potential checkpoints were avoided.


    Back in his garage, an old footlocker sat in the corner. He lifted the lid and pulled out his cleaning kit. The Smith & Wesson was first, then the M4. He field-stripped each weapon with practiced efficiency, muscle memory taking over as he cleaned each part.


    It wasn''t about rescue or recovery. Marcus was dead, and Jonathan knew it. It was about making whatever killed his son pay and about ensuring that whatever the hell was at this classified site understood the cost of taking his boy from him.


    The rest of the afternoon was spent gathering gear. Jonathan pulled his old rucksack from storage and began methodically packing: sleeping bag, bivouac sack, extra clothes, first aid kit. The weapons would go in last, wrapped in soft cases, and slide right behind his seat. The dog tags clinked softly as he bent to pick up a coil of paracord.


    He''d need to study the map more and plan his route carefully. The drive to Yakima would have to wait until tomorrow, as there were a few more things to take care of, but tonight, he could at least be ready. Jonathan tucked the dog tags under his shirt and continued packing. Each item was a step closer to answers.


    The rage and need for action simmered just beneath the surface.


    A step closer to understanding what happened to Marcus.

 Chapter 4: Point of No Return

    Jonathan¡¯s pen moved across the page in the dim morning light of his study.


    He''d never been good at expressing his feelings. But the words came easier than he¡¯d expected them to, maybe because this felt so final. He wasn¡¯t writing with hope or uncertainty. The words poured out. He wrote of all the things that he should have said over the last two years but was too stubborn to be the first to talk. About how proud he was of David¡¯s choice to follow his mother¡¯s path and how sorry he was for trying to force him into a life he didn¡¯t want.


    Jonathan signed his name at the bottom of the letter, folded it carefully, and wrote ¡®David¡¯ on the envelope.


    He placed it on his desk, atop a small stack of papers, where it would be found. His thoughts drifted to the life insurance policy, but he pushed it aside. What needed to be done, needed to be done.


    The pre-dawn air was crisp as he loaded his truck full of the gear he¡¯d prepped the night before. He performed a final equipment check before sliding each item into its specific spot on the truck. He was breathing heavily at the end of it and wiped his brow as the rear-driver side door was closed.


    Just as he was pulling onto I-90 East, the sun began to rise. Seattle traffic was comparatively light at that time of day but still annoying enough to cause impatience. As he passed a particularly slow driver, he looked hard out his window and raised his hand in question.


    Jonathan clenched his jaw. He needed to move. He needed to act. Instead, he was stuck in slow-moving traffic.


    As he approached the Snoqualmie Pass, the traffic thinned. His hands tightened on the steering wheel as memories tried to surface.


    Marcus¡¯s first deployment. The pride in his son following in his footsteps. The way Marcus had stood in his uniform, looking so much like Jonathan had twenty years earlier.


    The landscape opened up as he crossed into Eastern Washington. Unfortunately, fewer cars meant more time alone with his thoughts. He¡¯d been running on anger and almost no sleep since the notifications officers had arrived at his house.


    Now that he was forced to sit still, everything he¡¯d been pushing away tried to crowd in.


    He drove for another hour before pulling off onto a service road two miles from the reported location, but the valley didn¡¯t reveal anything useful from that angle. Jonathan drove further, taking increasingly rough back roads until he found higher ground.


    He grabbed his binoculars from the bag behind his seat and jumped out of the truck. His hands felt sweaty in a way he hadn¡¯t experienced since his first deployment.


    Everything felt off like he was putting on an old jacket that just didn¡¯t quite fit the same as before.


    His first observation point showed him little¡ªonly distant vehicles and what might be a camp. He marked it on his map and kept moving. It took an effort of will not to immediately rush in, but he knew that if things were rushed, he might not even make it deep enough to find out what really happened¡ªwhat really killed his son.


    The second and third vantage points gave him nothing. On the fourth try, though, he caught a glimpse of something that made his breath catch.


    ¡°What the¡­¡±


    He¡¯d seen some blurred pictures and read articles describing what was being called a Rift. Seeing it with his own two eyes was entirely different. He stayed crouched and stared at it for several minutes through the binoculars.


    Even from the distant hill he was on, the portal seemed so out of place. As if it had been edited in by some sort of software. Its edges crackled with an otherworldly energy that made the air around it waver like heat waves off hot asphalt. Nothing in nature glowed so brightly with such an abnormal shade of blue. That same light cast strange shadows on the surrounding equipment and personnel, making them look almost ghostly in its glow.


    Jonathan stayed in a crouch and moved back from the vantage point, careful to stay hidden from potential spotters and guards below. He made his way back to his truck and took some time to hide it more thoroughly.


    Now that he knew he was in the right place, Jonathan was willing to devote a few more hours on scouting out the camp and their movements. He cut and covered the truck with branches from nearby trees, while it was still obviously a truck, it would fool a passing glance.


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    As he moved through the scrubland on foot, his boots crunched on the dry ground. He remembered the proper way to step quietly, even if his knees protested more than they used to.


    After an hour of careful movement, he found a position that overlooked the whole operation.


    The camp was bigger than he¡¯d expected. It had multiple checkpoints and regular patrols around the outer edge. These weren¡¯t just local police or weekend warriors. They all moved with a coordinated purpose. Through the binoculars, he counted at least three shifts of personnel.


    His original plan of sneaking in on foot died as he studied the layout. There was too much open ground and too much general movement through the camp. While there weren¡¯t too many people, there were several dozen moving about like a busy hive. They would spot him before he got close.


    He considered a few different approaches after that. A night infiltration was always an option, but he was certain that those below would have some sort of sensors or night vision set up. He could create some kind of diversion and make his move when they were distracted, but it was the sort of plan that worked best with a team. Lastly, he could pose as someone else, either a member of the team or someone dropping something off for the camp, but he quickly marked that as unrealistic.


    Ultimately, he pinpointed the barriers at the checkpoints to be the largest point of weakness. While it would stop traffic, it wasn¡¯t tight or sealed off like an actual government facility would be. Also, they had set up their barriers, assuming that people would come up the main road. The Western approach had fewer guards, probably because the terrain made it seem less viable.


    He spent another hour watching the guard changes, trying to convince himself that he hadn¡¯t already decided to ram through the barricade. The longer he watched, the clearer his plan became, though.


    If he had the element of surprise and struck first, he had a real chance at getting through to the portal. Speed and surprise were his only real options. He knew his truck might not survive, but it didn¡¯t really need to.


    When he finished his recon, the sun was beginning to set. He checked his gear one final time and reorganized his bags for quick access. He opened his ruck and put the rifle horizontally across it before synching the top flap down so that it held the M4 in place. He tapped the trusty leather sheath, strapped to the side of the bag before placing the pack on the passenger seat. Last, he holstered the pistol on his hip.


    He waited until the guards changed shifts and started the engine. The truck moved quietly down the service road, lights off. When he reached the final turn, he didn¡¯t hesitate. The engine roared to life as he floored the accelerator.


    At fifty yards out, the guards spotted him, but it was far too late. He smashed his truck through the barrier at 60 miles per hour, metal scraping and screaming against metal.


    The initial barrier gave way with a shriek of twisting metal. The hollowed metallic bar was there as a deterrent rather than a true blockade. Past that, two military Humvees blocked the inner road, but their spacing left just enough room for him to squeeze his truck behind the leftmost vehicle.


    Guards scattered as he accelerated further, their weapons raised but hesitating to fire with their own vehicles and personnel so close. A young soldier dove out of his path, rolling into a drainage ditch.


    The first shots cracked through the air, several causing his windshield to star with impact points. He ducked his head and hunched his shoulders as the truck bounced. The engine protested but held as he pushed it harder and kept driving.


    More rounds peppered the side of his truck. The rear window exploded inward, showering the cab with safety glass. A sharp pain bloomed in his left shoulder, and he saw a grazing wound when he looked down. His jacket was torn and red began to leak into his clothes. He swerved around their vehicles, fighting the wheel as his front driver''s side tire blew out with a pop.


    The truck lurched violently to the left. Jonathan wrestled with the steering wheel, muscle memory from combat driving courses kicking in. The rim scraped and sparked against the ground, but he kept going. The truck engine screamed in protest as he pushed it harder, the whole frame shuddering.


    He could hear more shots behind him, but they were falling behind. He¡¯d chosen his approach well, and Jonathan knew it would take them several minutes to organize any kind of pursuit. The truck was damaged but still running, if barely. The blown tire made the truck pull hard to the left, requiring constant correction to keep it going straight.


    It only took him another few seconds of speeding and following the service road deeper into the camp to reach the glowing blue portal. Several people were gathered around it, though none seemed to be the military type.


    The blue glow filled up his windshield and as he looked at it, the light seemed to move in an unnatural way. He slammed the brakes and skid to a halt fifteen meters from the tear in space. He grabbed his pack and threw it over a shoulder before stepping out and drawing his pistol.


    Researchers from around the Rift yelled and raised their hands, calling for help and demanding information from Jonathan. He kept the pistol at a high ready and moved closer, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. His head swiveled back and forth as he took in as much information as possible.


    Several people in white lab coats emerged from a tent. They shouted at the workers who were abandoning tablets and monitoring equipment in their haste to get away from Jonathan.


    One woman stood her ground, shouting into a radio while gesturing toward the tent. He ignored her and caught a glimpse of another researcher trying to save what looked like sensor equipment. The man was frantically disconnecting cables from tripods arranged in a semicircle around the portal.


    Moving forward with bent legs, he closed the distance to the portal. When it was clear that no one present would try to stop him, he looked up at the giant anomaly. His pistol felt familiar in his hand, and he felt his heart slamming into his chest.


    Jonathan walked forward and into the light, feeling his rucksack and clothes lose most of their weight. His stomach lightened, and it felt like he was reaching the top of a roller coaster peak at speed.


    He didn¡¯t look back as the blue light swallowed him whole.

 Chapter 5: Blood and Stone

    The weightless sensation vanished as gravity reasserted itself on Jonathan.


    His boots hit the solid ground, and he immediately dropped into a crouch, raising his pistol. He scanned his surroundings, tuning out the unnecessary and looking for movement or immediate signs of danger.


    The scene that greeted him broke his flow and concentration. The desert scrublands of Eastern Washington were gone and replaced by something altogether more alien. Enormous, towering formations of dark gray stone stretched toward an alien sky. Their twisted shapes defied any form of natural geology that Jonathan had seen. What little vegetation that he could see was sickly and pale, clinging to the cracks in the stone.


    He removed his rucksack while kneeling and reholstered the pistol. With practiced movements, Jonathan took the rifle from the top of his pack and leaned forward, resting the barrel on his calf to keep the muzzle clean. Then he pulled out his GPS unit and powered it on, waiting for it to acquire satellites. After several moments of nothing, he tried moving it around, searching for any signal. The screen remained blank.


    He pulled out his compass next, but the compass needle spun lazily, refusing to settle on any direction. Whatever strange forces had created this place seemed to interfere with basic navigation tools.


    He stuffed the equipment back into its proper pouch, then resynched the bag¡¯s straps and threw it over his shoulders. Grabbing the assault rifle, he slung it over his neck and nondominant shoulder.


    With the blue portal to his back, strange shadows were cast across the rocky ground in front of him. His own shadow threatened to play tricks on his mind. He forced himself to focus and continued to scan the surroundings. The air felt thick and almost grainy in his lungs. Rather than the cold October morning he''d left behind, it now felt like he was standing in the dry heat of the desert.


    Jonathan moved cautiously, keeping his rifle at the ready.


    He moved from one bizarre set of rock formations to the other. While part of his senses were still turned toward the portal in case anyone attempted to follow him through, he was more concerned about whatever was out there.


    Each time his boots skidded to a halt behind a set of rocks, new sounds echoed in the quiet environment. He could hear some distant sounds, mostly through echoes. Though it was hard to tell, he had to assume that it was the distant falling of rocks.


    He moved in short sprints followed by a pause to assess the surroundings for several minutes. A deep, guttural roar rolled across the landscape, which brought him to a halt and caused his heart to begin beating faster.


    Jonathan pressed his back against his cover and waited. The sound was unlike anything he¡¯d heard before. It was too deep to be a bear, angry rather than in pain, and too organic to be machinery.


    Remaining still, he waited to see if there was any more movement or calls that could help him pinpoint the beast''s location.


    Soon, he began moving at a slower pace. Fifteen minutes of careful movement brought him to the first signs of past combat. Shell casings glinted in the strange light scattered across the blood-stained rock. Jonathan¡¯s throat tightened as he recognized the brass.


    He crouched to touch several of them.


    Jonathan fought to maintain his tactical mindset as he surveyed more of the scene.


    Blood trails marked desperate movements toward a natural chokepoint. Torn pieces of tactical gear lay scattered around the small clearing. He saw several torn and discarded plate carriers and a used IFAK medical pouch.


    Crouching, he moved through the area, staying aware of his surroundings as he read the scene. He covered his mouth with the collar of his shirt as he found what appeared to be the left half of a military uniform. There wasn¡¯t a body with it, but the blood staining the cloth made it clear that whoever had been wearing the top was no longer alive.


    He knew he didn¡¯t want to see, but he had to check the sleeve. As he¡¯d feared, the unit patch was a bloodied and frayed scroll. His fingers trembled as he held it. Jonathan¡¯s blood began to boil, and his heart rate increased, not from fear or adrenaline but anger.


    The scene told a clear story to anyone who knew how to read it. The unit had been ambushed before trying to fall back to more defensible terrain. Impact marks on the rocks showed they¡¯d maintained fire discipline, but something had forced them into close-quarters combat. The volume of brass suggested they¡¯d exhausted large amounts of ammunition.


    He looked closer in the direction of the scuff marks and blood trails. Where he¡¯d first thought that it might be the soldiers moving or hauling wounded, he began to realize that the drag marks were leading away from the battle site.


    Whatever had attacked the unit had taken their bodies.


    Jonathan followed the clear signs of movement. The ambush suggested coordinated attackers had made the attack. The drag marks were heading in a consistent direction without any attempt to conceal the markings.


    He followed the markings for several minutes while considering how he might approach the situation. The entire platoon''s decimation made it clear that whatever was in the Rift was extremely dangerous.


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    It wasn¡¯t long before he heard voices¡ªif they could be called that. Deep, rumbling sounds filled with grunts and yelling drifted from ahead of his position. The distance was hard to judge in the rock-filled environment, where sounds seemed to bounce from all directions.


    Circling back, he moved carefully to higher ground. Jonathan found a position overlooking what appeared to be a tribal camp. His breath caught again as he finally saw what he was hunting.


    The creatures were massive, easily reaching eight feet tall. Their skin looked like living stone, gray and craggy. Twenty or thirty of them moved through the camp, carrying crude weapons of bone and rock. They seemed to cluster around several cave mouths in the rock face.


    As Jonathan watched them move, he saw one break off and head down a small trail, which forced it to duck under a dead white tree. He debated following after the creature while it was isolated but calmed his desire for action.


    Minutes later, two of the larger creatures began circling each other near one of the cave entrances, their guttural sounds growing increasingly hostile. They gestured at a piece of flesh between them, and it was obvious that they were posturing over the food.


    The argument escalated quickly, and huge stone fists swung with brutal force. He flinched as the first fist connected, causing a clack of stone on stone and chips of dirt and stone to fly from the monster¡¯s shoulder. The creatures continued to slam into each other with terrifying force.


    One of the trolls caught its opponent with an uppercut that would have taken a human¡¯s head clean off. Instead, it staggered before readjusting and stepping back into the brawl. The fight escalated, and one troll seized the other while throwing it into the nearby cave wall. The impact shook loose debris from above their heads, but the thrown creature simply stood and charged back in. Their stone flesh seemed to absorb punishment that would reduce metal to scrap.


    The fight ended almost as quickly as it had started. The larger troll managed to pin its opponent, who stopped struggling after a few moments and a few free punches connected with its face. Both creatures then walked away, apparently done with their dispute. The larger of the two, who had won, gripped the meat on the ground and let it drag behind him as he walked into the cave.


    Jonathan stayed prone, ignoring the protest in his lower back from the awkward position on the rocks. Twenty minutes passed before the original troll creature returned from the trail, dripping wet. When it sat near one of the groups, another one made its way down the trail, headed in the same direction as the first.


    He eased back from his position, and as he stood, he heard his knee crack. It caused him to freeze, but then he realized that even if something did hear it, it would likely sound the exact same as a falling stone, which was a common sound in the strange environment. Keeping low, he circled wide around the camp¡¯s perimeter while once again using the strange rock formation as cover.


    Jonathan assumed that, just like from the ambush site to camp, the trail would be a straight shot from the camp to whatever body of water they were using. He found the body of disgusting water with ease. It was an odd color between green and brown, and if Jonathan didn¡¯t see the creature splash into it, he might have thought it was a solid surface.


    He snuck over to the trail and found a natural choke point. Two rock formations closed in on either side, creating an ideal spot for Jonathan to ambush the beast. After setting up his position, he steadied his breathing and forced his nerves to calm. The adrenaline and frustration at losing his son welled up within him, and he found it harder than ever to keep his emotions in check.


    Jonathan adjusted the rifle''s buttstock on his shoulder, readying himself.


    After a time, the troll''s heavy footsteps grew closer. He stayed hidden and waited for the perfect shot. The creature came into view, its stone-like flesh reflecting the strange light. Jonathan squeezed the trigger as he slowly breathed out the warm air.


    The controlled burst struck center mass, and sparks flew as bullets ricocheted off the troll''s hide with metallic pings. The creature roared, more in anger than pain, its head snapping toward Jonathan''s position.


    Jonathan adjusted his aim, sending controlled pairs toward the troll''s joints. The bullets sparked off stone flesh, barely leaving marks. The troll charged with shocking speed, covering ground faster than anything its size had the right to move.


    He abandoned his position as the troll swung his stone axe through the air where he''d just been. The M4 came up again, but the troll''s backswing caught the rifle, tearing the weapon from his hands and sending it spinning away.


    Jonathan''s transition to his sidearm was smooth, muscle memory taking over. At the closer range, he could target the joints more precisely. Three rounds struck the troll''s knee, which finally drew a roar of pain. Before he could press the advantage, though, the creature''s massive arm swept toward him. The impact sent him flying. He slammed into the rock wall, pain exploding across his torso as the troll''s axe opened a deep gash. His pistol clattered away into the rocks.


    The copper taste of blood filled his mouth as he rolled to his feet, fighting to stay conscious.


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    Jonathan dodged another swing, and his combat knife cleared its leather sheath. The troll''s attacks were powerful but predictable. He ducked under a wild swing, knowing he couldn''t match the creature''s strength but could use its momentum against it.


    His ribs screamed in protest as he moved. The gash across his torso was bleeding freely, which made his movements slow and sluggish. The troll overextended on its next attack, and Jonathan saw his chance.


    He stepped inside the creature''s reach, using its own weight to sweep its leg. The troll crashed forward, its stone axe clattering free. Jonathan lunged for the weapon, ignoring the burning pain in his side.


    Armed with both knife and axe, he circled the rising troll. The knife probed for weak points while the axe kept the creature''s attacks at bay. Blood loss was starting to affect his vision, turning the edges dark.


    The troll charged again.


    Jonathan feinted with the axe and drove his knife up under its jaw, where the stone flesh looked softer. The blade sank deep. Before the troll could react, Jonathan brought the stone axe around in a devastating uppercut to the same spot.


    The creature crashed to the ground, finally still. Jonathan fell to one knee, chest heaving as he tried to breathe through the pain. Strange blue text appeared in his vision, but before he could read it, movement caught his eye.


    Three more trolls entered the clearing, likely drawn by the sounds of gunfire.


    Jonathan pushed himself to his feet, blood dripping from his wounds. If this was his last fight, he''d make it count. Marcus''s face flashed in his mind, and something inside him snapped.


    Rage flooded through him like liquid fire. His vision began to tint red as strength surged through his limbs. He no longer noticed the pain of his wounds, and his mind was consumed by something darker, more primal.


    The first troll reached him with a roar.


    Jonathan''s leg shot out in a front kick, connecting with the troll''s hip. The impact sent the large creature flying backward, crashing into one of its companions. Jonathan stared for a split second, his rage-addled mind unable to process how he''d launched such a huge monster with a kick.


    The second troll''s attack seemed to move in slow motion, but coherent thought was becoming impossible.


    Red crept in from the edges of his vision like blood in water.


    More blue text flashed, but he couldn''t focus on it. Everything was becoming a crimson haze.


    Jonathan felt as if invisible hands were pulling his consciousness backward. Not as if he was falling but sinking deeper into his own mind. Whatever was taking control felt ancient, violent, and absolute. His awareness retreated further and further, leaving only rage in its wake.


    The last thing Jonathan remembered was his own roar mixing with those of the trolls as consciousness slipped away into darkness.

 Chapter 6: Rage Awakens

    Jonathan¡¯s eyes cracked open to a throbbing headache, the kind that reminded him of too many beers on a night out on the town. He squinted and put his hands to his head. Finding himself slumped in an odd position on his knees, he stood stiffly.


    Strange blue rectangles floated in his vision, like those damn pop-up windows on a website. He blinked hard, but they stayed where they were.


    ¡°What kind of VR nonsense¡­¡± Jonathan tried to wave them away and nearly lost his balance as his hand passed through the ethereal text. His boot caught on something which sent him stumbling forward.


    That¡¯s when the smell hit him. It was the thick, metallic smell of blood in the air. Only then did his memories of the fight just before blacking out return. He¡¯d been about to go into impossible odds.


    He began to conduct a quick assessment of his own state. He flexed his fingers, rotated his shoulders, and shifted each leg. He felt like everything moved smoothly, with no injuries.


    Too smooth, considering what he remembered from before the fight.


    His eyes swept the clearing as he continued his check, and his hands froze mid-motion. The rocky corpses of the trolls lay scattered like broken, bloody masonry.


    Jonathan had seen his fair share of violence overseas, but he¡¯d never seen this kind of carnage before. It didn¡¯t look like they¡¯d been killed. They had been smashed, battered, and broken. It looked personal.


    Even when compared to the horrific memories of IEDs and the firefight aftermath, the scene before him looked like something out of a horror movie.


    He looked at the remains of the trolls and remembered the fistfight he¡¯d seen the two eight-foot trolls have before his ambush. But what he was seeing didn¡¯t line up with those durable bodies covered in protective armor that he¡¯d seen. Their limbs were broken, and the carapace was smashed and cracked.


    He looked down at his hands. His knuckles were raw with fresh pink skin. Other than the dried blood on them, they were unmarred. His tactical gear was torn in places, spattered with that strange dark blood, but his body felt¡­ good. Considering the beating that he took, he should barely be able to walk, let alone feel better than he had in years.


    His hand came up to his chest. The deep gash across his torso was gone, leaving only torn fabric as evidence it had ever existed.


    He swiped the air again, attempting to make the pesky floating blue windows scatter.


    Movement beyond the windows caught his eye before he could begin to look at the text. More rock trolls emerged from the shadows, their heavy footfalls sending tremors through the ground. Three of them, just like he remembered from before.


    The three were bigger than the previous group, all reaching several heads taller than Jonathan.


    Jonathan rolled his bad shoulder, pleased to feel that it no longer clicked. Giving the three approaching monsters a smile, he felt his heartbeat pick up, and he bent down to grab a fallen stone axe. He ignored the floating screens that cluttered his vision and stepped forward as one of the trolls came in range.


    From how his previous engagement had gone, Jonathan expected there to be a great rending of rock flesh as the large hatchet connected. Instead, the first swing barely chipped the lead troll¡¯s hide.


    The beast¡¯s counterattack sent him rolling across the rocky ground and caused pain to flare in his ribs. He pushed himself up, spitting blood.


    The thought sparked something inside him. Heat bloomed in his chest, and he screamed his son¡¯s name. That same heat continued to spread through his limbs like molten metal in his veins. The pain faded, replaced by rage.


    While he could feel the strength in his muscles as he crouched and flexed his arms, the sensation was foreign. It felt wrong. Every instinct from his years of training screamed against letting go of control.


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    He dodged another attack, feeling stronger despite his injuries. His next swing of the axe bit deeper into the stone flesh, drawing a roar from the troll. Spittle flew from the monster''s mouth, and Jonathan could see its jagged and broken teeth set in black gums.


    He felt a deep desire to scream back at the beast. To let out the pain and rage for taking away his eldest.


    Despite how tempting the surge of strength was, the red creeping into the edges of his vision set off warning bells in his mind.


    The second troll blindsided him, its massive fist catching him in the side. Pain exploded through his ribs again as he hit the ground. He rolled with the impact.


    He grabbed a second hatchet from one of the nearby fallen trolls. Standing, he laughed and tasted blood in his mouth. He held both axes out to his side and looked up to the sky, past the annoying blue windows in his vision.


    The strength flowing through him felt far too good. Like the best parts of combat, without the fear of hesitation. Red crept further into his vision and his thoughts began to blur.


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    The third troll charged, and Jonathan met its attack with one of his own. He felt something primal well up within him, and he let the anger that had been building in him explode outward. His own roar matched the troll¡¯s as his newest stone axe connected with stone flesh. The chop connected with the creature¡¯s shoulder and sunk several inches through rocky hide, causing a spray of black blood to coat his face and beard.


    With that simple success, his resistance crumbled.


    Red completely tinted his vision. His awareness retreated, pulled back into his own subconscious desire for violence.


    Then, the darkness took him.


    Consciousness returned slower this time. Jonathan lay face-down on something hard and uneven. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest as he tried to move. He felt like he¡¯d done a 12-mile ruck march and then gotten hit by a truck for good measure.


    Everything hurt.


    With an effort of will, he pushed himself onto his side. The movement sent waves of pain and exhaustion through his body, but his training and natural desire for survival urged him to act.


    His thoughts stilled as he saw what he¡¯d been lying on. Not rocks, but bodies. The trolls¡¯ remains were barely recognizable after the battle, pulverized into gravel and gore. His stomach lurched, and he scrambled backward until his shoulders hit stone.


    Those damned blue screens were still floating in his vision, multiplying by the looks of it. The text swam in his vision, refusing to come into focus. One message flashed more insistently, layered over the top of the others.


    Congratulations and Welcome to the System, newly Awakened.


    Trait Manifested: {Rage}


    ¡°What in the hell?¡± His voice came out hoarse as if he¡¯d been screaming.


    The floating text reminded him of those mobile games David kept trying to get him to play when he was in high school.


    Jonathan closed his eyes, but the messages remained there, hovering in the darkness behind his eyelids. His head throbbed worse than any hangover he¡¯d ever experienced, and the coppery taste in his mouth made him wonder how much of the blood was his.


    Using the large rock formation for support, he forced himself to stand. His legs shook with the effort, and he had to stop halfway up as dizziness threatened to bring him to his knees. The exhaustion felt bone deep and was worse than any training or combat exercises he¡¯d endured before.


    He stumbled away from the carnage, and each step felt like his body was threatening to revolt. The air felt cool to his addled mind, and he wondered if he was in shock. He knew how hot the air had been when he was in his right mind. After what felt like miles but couldn¡¯t have been more than a hundred yards, he found a comfy-looking patch of stone ground and collapsed into a small space between rock formations.


    The blue text continued its silent assault on his vision.


    He knew that whatever was happening to him had to do with the messages. More importantly, they might explain why he was still alive when every instinct told him that he should be dead.


    Giving in, he focused on the topmost message.


    Congratulations and Welcome to the System, newly Awakened.


    Trait Manifested: {Rage}


    It refused to move or disappear so he could read the others, no matter how much he blinked or tried to wave it away.


    ¡°Dismiss?¡± he tried. ¡°Clear? Roger?¡±


    The message remained. He groaned, annoyed at the idea that technology had somehow managed to make its way into his head. Heat began to rise up in his chest, and he recognized it as the same rage building from his frustration.


    His eyes widened, he shoved the feelings down and smothered the heat as quickly as possible. His body felt like it had gone twelve rounds with a heavy bag; there was no way he could handle another rage out.


    ¡°Come on, you old fart,¡± he muttered to himself. ¡°You¡¯ve cleared rooms in Fallujah. You can figure out some damned floating text.¡±


    He stared at the text again and read through it another time.


    The message vanished. Jonathan blinked.


    He shifted against the rock wall and settled in to deal with the stack of notifications.


    You have slain Rock Troll - Level 5You have slain Rock Troll - Level 5You have slain Rock Troll - Level 5New Skill Learned: [Rending Strike] (Novice - Level 1)


    Do you accept? Yes/No?


    That one disappeared easily enough without him needing to curse at it.


    Congratulations Awakened. You have leveled up!


    You have 3 Free Points to distribute


    Even though he had hoped it would do something, the thought didn¡¯t cause the notification to react. Sighing, he told the window to fuck off, deciding that he¡¯d figure out what the points did later.


    He had three more repeat notifications for the first trio of rock trolls that he¡¯d killed and realized that the notifications he was seeing were in reverse order. The last of his three notifications made that obvious.


    Personal Quest: Culling Rock Trolls


    Kill 10 Rock Trolls.


    Rift Quest: Slay the Chieftain


    Take down the Chieftain of the Rock Splitters Tribe.


    He wasn¡¯t sure what to make of that one, but if it was just killing the beasts within the Rift, he had every intention of fighting until he couldn¡¯t anymore.


    Moving on, he read the last of his notifications. There was another triple set of Rock Troll slaying ones that he waved away in irritation. Jonathan hated when his cell phone sent him too many notifications, this felt like more of a nightmare than the thought of fighting more trolls.


    Congratulations Awakened. You have leveled up!


    You have 3 Free Points to distribute


    He dismissed more of the Free Points and saw his most recent and final notification.


    {Rage} has ended. Exhaustion debuff applied.

 Chapter 7: The System

    Jonathan emerged from the rocky crevice where he''d been resting. His body ached, but it wasn''t the bone-weary exhaustion he had felt a few hours before.


    He studied his surroundings properly for the first time since he''d begun fighting. With each of his battles, he thought it would be his last and allowed his awareness to lapse. Despite that, he felt that his surroundings were almost identical to those he''d seen when he first entered the rift and then followed the signs of battle from the rock troll¡¯s ambush point.


    Massive rock formations stretched toward the sky, giving the impression that the sky was much closer than it should be. The formations had weathered surfaces with rounded edges that seemed to create natural walls and passages through the landscape. Vegetation clung to life in the cracks between the stones, and the occasional withered tree reached toward the oversized sun with bare branches.


    The sun hung lower in the sky than he recalled, and he checked his watch only to remember that technology didn''t seem to work properly in this strange world. The screen on his Garmin was off, with none of the proper time or graphics displayed.


    If he had to estimate, he felt as if five or six hours had passed since he entered the Rift. The position of the sun told him that there would likely only be a few more hours before sunset. Its bloated size made the rocky formations throw strange shadows across the landscape.


    Something skittered across the nearby rock, drawing his attention. A creature about the size of a small rat with a hard shell similar to the troll¡¯s disappeared into one of the cracks in the ground. The creatures reminded Jonathan that life would find a way to survive even in a hostile environment where the vegetation was bare and the sun was hot.


    Jonathan moved carefully through the terrain, staying close to the larger formations as he scanned his surroundings. He thought through his next steps. His boots found secure footing, and despite his exhaustion, he did his best to lift his feet to prevent the tough soles from scraping on the rocky ground.


    After moving some distance away from his hiding place and in the direction of his last fight, Jonathan crouched and looked up at the sky. He could see a half dozen scavenger birds circling what he could only assume would be the fallen bodies of the rock trolls.


    He didn''t have a reason to return to the scene of the fight, so he angled his approach away from where he knew the murky water would be and back toward the main camp.


    Before long, the guttural sounds of the troll camp carried on the air even before he found a vantage point to look down on the camp once again. The position he found didn''t have as good a vantage point as his first, but he could see that the camp was in a state of unrest. The trolls moved around the camp with purpose, sharpening their weapons and gathering around the small fires.


    As he watched, he realized that his initial assessment may have been too low. Even with the seven that he killed, there were still at least twenty that he could count. He wondered if those others had been lazing in the shade of the caves against the far wall.


    He created space from the camp and circled around to a position he''d seen previously. A plan was beginning to form in his mind of how he could assault the camp. He knew that it was reckless, but he didn''t care. Jonathan had come here to fight, to get revenge, and potentially die.


    He should have been dead just fighting against one of these monsters, let alone three. The thought of attacking a camp of 20 seemed like a death wish.


    When Jonathan reached the spot between two boulder formations, he settled in. It created a thick barrier between himself and the camp and had just enough space for him to stand up and move around. He was thankful that the trolls seemed too stupid or too lazy to set up any kind of watch or guard rotation.


    Once nestled into the small space, Jonathan checked his remaining gear. He lost his main pack somewhere at the first fight, not even remembering when he had taken it off in his rage. His rifle and pistol were gone, as was the combat knife he carried with him through eight deployments.


    He set down both of the axes he had been carrying and removed his torn shirt. He shifted the shirt around until he found a somewhat clean section and used it to wipe the dried blood from his face. The sweat from his face mingled with the flakes of red and black, allowing them to wipe off easily.


    He stared at the shirt for a moment, noting that there was quite a bit of red blood mixed in with the darker troll''s blood. Figuring that some amount of protection from the sun was better than none, he put the ragged shirt back over his head.


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    Jonathan sat on the ground and picked up the two axes and put them in his lap. He studied one that he claimed from his earlier fight. The handle was dark wood, worn smooth from use and likely cut from one of the dead trees that dotted the landscape. Dried leather wrapped the grip. The bottom of the grip was coming loose, leaving a few inches of dangling leather to rest on his leg.


    From his seated position, he made a chopping motion several times. Despite the axe''s primitive appearance, it felt well-balanced and sturdy.


    The ax head wasn''t like anything he''d seen before. Instead of the traditional wedge that he had seen on axes while chopping wood, the stone blade curved outward at both the top and the bottom, ending in wicked points. The edge between them swept in a deadly arc that had proved capable of biting even into stone flesh.


    The trolls had wielded the large hatchets effortlessly. When he felt the strength flood his system during the rage, he easily swung the vicious tool.


    He tested the edge with his thumb and was surprised to note how sharp it was. He performed a few other tests, as he might when looking for a new knife to use in the field. He tapped the flat of the blade against one of the large rock formations and found it sturdy. The fact that the edge of the blade hadn''t chipped during his fight was also a promising sign.


    Feeling confident that he would be able to use both axes in his attack, Jonathan thought through his plan. It was simple, really. He would use the element of surprise and wait for nightfall. Striking hard and fast on the unprepared, if he was lucky, a few of them would be dead before they even realized he was among them.


    He thought back to some of the strange blue notifications he had dismissed. While he¡¯d ignored most of them and really didn''t like the idea of alien technology appearing in his brain, he thought back to the one that mentioned he had gained the skill.


    He remembered the window saying that the skill was called [Rending Strike]. He wasn''t sure what the skill was or how to use it, but when he wanted to see another blue screen with more information, one appeared in his vision.


    While Jonathan was normally stoic and implacable, the sudden and immediate appearance of the blue screen caused him to jump.


    He looked at the text on the blue screen.


    [Rending Strike] - Empower a simple strike and cause rending damage to your foe.


    Despite the fact that Jonathan didn''t typically work well with technology, he couldn''t help but think about how convenient it might be if these floating windows could simply respond to his thoughts. He realized that the window had appeared just by simply wishing that it would.


    He decided to apply the same logic to dismiss it. Rather than telling it to fuck off, he just simply wished that it wouldn''t be there and wanted it to go away. When it immediately vanished from his vision, Jonathan smirked and wondered if he would rather continue cursing at the strange screens even if it wasn''t necessary.


    From his seated position, he looked around the small space he was in. It would be hard for him to fall asleep. He had fallen asleep in deserts before. He knew that exhaustion had killed many soldiers in the past and caused people to react poorly or slowly in critical moments. He also knew that letting his guard down could be a mistake he couldn''t afford. Without the ability to set a silent alarm on his watch, he didn''t trust his exhausted body to wake up after just a few hours. With how exhausted he felt, he assumed that he would fall asleep and not wake up for at least ten or more hours.


    Rather than settling in for a short nap, which could potentially cause him to miss the proper window for an ambush, Jonathan slowly stood and gripped the handle of one of his axes. He swung it back and forth several times, noting the weight and how much power he could get behind the strike depending on how far back he reached.


    He thought for a moment about how he could potentially activate the [Rending Strike] and decided to apply the same logic used through the windows. He simply pushed his intent toward activating the skill on his next swing.


    Jonathan felt an odd sensation tugging from the center of his stomach that traveled up quickly through his arm. He was surprised to note how much faster his arm moved and that the muscles in his bicep flexed in a certain way that caused his arm to bend and drag downward as he struck the air.


    Frozen, he stood stunned for several heartbeats. It was odd to have something almost completely take over his body¡¯s motion and produce such a strong result. There was enough momentum in the swing that he should have drawn his arm much further back and thrown his full weight into the blow; instead, that strike had seemed to be powered all on its own.


    He looked at the axe in wonder. He performed the action again and once again felt an odd tugging sensation from his center mass. After the second test, it felt clear to Jonathan that the skill required some amount of resource, though he didn''t feel any more tired than a few moments before.


    Worried that using the skill may be costly, Jonathan decided to set it aside, thinking that if it had limited uses, he should save it for the assault.


    Settling back down onto the rocky ground, he placed one of the hatchets on each side of his legs for easy access and leaned against the warm stone. With several hours of time to kill, he began thinking through how he''d been performing so far during his time in the Rift. He thought back to the notifications that had been appearing in his vision and realized that he hadn''t taken the time to figure out what free points were or how they worked.


    It took a bit of time and fumbling around. Eventually, Jonathan was able to access his status window and was stunned to see that it resembled a character sheet from the old Dungeons & Dragons game he played a few times in high school.


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 Chapter 8: Blind Fury

    The most extended blue window that he¡¯d seen yet appeared in his vision.


    Status


    Name: Jonathan Reeves - Level 3


    Class: None


    HP: 60/60


    MP: 38/50


    Traits: (1/3)


    {Rage}


    Physical Stats:


    Strength: 7


    Agility: 7


    Constitution: 6


    Vitality: 5


    Magical Stats:


    Intellect: 6


    Willpower: 8


    Mana: 5


    Wisdom: 6


    Free Points: 6


    Active Skills:


    [Rending Strike] (Novice - Level 1)


    Passive Skills:


    (None)


    He was impressed and startled that it had rated his physicality based on numbers. There seemed to be an average, and he was pleased that his physical stats were likely above average. It made sense then that Free Points were points that he could apply to his own stats.


    Jonathan was skeptical that just by applying the points, he could almost double his physical strength.


    Before he made any decisions, he wanted to poke around through the window more. Focusing on {Rage}, he willed more information to appear and hoped to get a description as he did for his skill. A feeling of satisfaction washed over him as it appeared.


    {Rage}:- Greatly enhances Strength, Constitution, and Vitality, significantly boosting physical power and regenerative abilities. Triggered specifically by intense anger and rage, persisting until exhaustion or a return to calm.


    He read through the description a few times. While he had a general understanding of what Constitution and Vitality were, just from their normal definitions, he had a hard time believing that this System could increase them by so much he could regenerate as he had been.


    Jonathan looked down at his hands and saw that while his knuckles and forearms were healthy, there were several lines of fresh skin marking where he¡¯d been cut. The soft pink skin looked so out of place on his sun-tanned skin, and it lacked the arm hair to match the rest of his arm.


    Reading the trait description one last time, he felt a bit annoyed that it didn¡¯t say anything about blacking out or losing memories during the activation.


    He dismissed the window and found that he didn¡¯t much care.


    Reopening his Status Window, he briefly considered what to do with the Free Points. In his mind, there wasn¡¯t much of a choice.


    He put four points into Strength and two into Agility.


    While he could see the appeal of more Constitution or Vitality, he didn¡¯t really care much about increasing his survival rate. He wanted to take down as many of the trolls as he possibly could. More power and being more agile could only help that goal.


    Feeling like he¡¯d accomplished what he needed to, Jonathan dismissed the window feeling a bit sour that the System was so responsive and easy to use.


    Jonathan leaned his head back against the warm stone and watched the shadows lengthen around him. The strange sun continued to drop toward the horizon. Even though his vantage point was limited, nestled between formations as he was, he could look directly up and see the sky begin to get painted in colors that seemed wrong for a sunset.


    He tried to focus on planning his attack, but in reality, the plan was simple, and in the stillness, other thoughts began to creep in.


    Jonathan could remember a video call during his son¡¯s first deployment where he¡¯d described the Afghan sunset. He talked about how similar it looked to Washington¡¯s but how different it felt. Jonathan had pretended not to hear the slight tremor in his boy¡¯s voice, resting just beneath the brave face he was putting on.


    The memory hit him hard. His chest tightened and he pressed his palms into his eyes to try and force the memory away. But, for the first time since the notification officers had appeared at his door, he couldn¡¯t push the grief down with the need for action.


    His son¡¯s face and more memories flooded his mind.


    Marcus at graduation. Marcus in his dress blues. Marcus coaching David through his college applications- always the big brother.


    Thoughts of the next few months also filled his mind, and one in particular hurt the most.


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    Marcus¡¯s empty chair at the dinner table during Christmas the following month.


    A raw and unfamiliar sob tore from his throat. The sound echoed off the stone walls around him, and Jonathan quickly clamped his mouth shut and gritted his teeth. The camp wasn¡¯t far, and sound carried strangely in the rocky terrain.


    Jonathan couldn¡¯t remember the last time he¡¯d cried. Emma¡¯s funeral, maybe? He¡¯d stayed strong then- for the boys. But there, in the alien world with only stone and silence as companions¡­ the dam finally broke. Silent tears tracked down his weathered and blood-smeared face. Years of stored grief finally found release.


    He thought of David, alone at Columbia. His youngest had Emma¡¯s gentle heart. Even as a boy, he¡¯d always had a drive to heal rather than harm. The same drive that had caused their falling out when David chose medicine over military service.


    No mother, no brother, and soon no father.


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    The thought rang hollow. He knew it was a lie, a weak attempt to justify what he was about to do and his failure as a father to mend their broken relationship. David deserved better than to lose his entire family. He deserved more than a father who chose revenge over his remaining son.


    Jonathan sat with those thoughts as the strange sun continued its slow descent. The guilt and grief washed over him in waves, each one threatening to pull him under.


    An hour passed¡ªmaybe more¡ªand Jonathan had a hard time keeping track of things. The sun painted the alien sky in deep purples and reds that seemed wrong, almost like a photograph with the colors shifted. The camp beyond the rocks had grown quiet as darkness fell. He could barely hear the guttural voices or movement of large bodies in and out of the camp.


    Jonathan wiped his face one final time and pushed himself up to his feet while grabbing both of his axes. His body felt heavy with both physical and emotional exhaustion, but he was surprised to find that his mind felt more clear than at any time since he¡¯d entered the Rift.


    The grief remained as a constant ache in his chest, but it sat with him as something he would carry with him into the next fight. He knew that the pain and anguish would fuel the fire that could help him take down more of the trolls.


    He crept out of his hiding place and could feel the sweat in his palms being soaked up by the dried leather grips. Jonathan did his best to keep low and in the shadows of the larger formations until he reached the edge of the firelight.


    Three trolls lounged near the closest fire, passing a chunk of meat between them.


    Jonathan felt a now familiar heat building in his chest. His hands tightened on the axes as memories of Marcus and his own choices with David fueled his anger.


    Rushing forward, Jonathan did his best to organize his roiling thoughts so that he could activate [Rending Strike]. He felt significant resistance compared to when he¡¯d activated it the first time. This only served to frustrate him further, and just before the first axe blow struck the rock troll¡¯s skin, the skill activated.


    The blow caught the troll at the base of his neck, and the enhanced strike bit deep. As the skill flexed his muscles and pulled his arm toward his body, the gash grew wider, and dark blood sprayed across the fire.


    Shouts of alarm rose from the others around the fire, but Jonathan was already kicking the limp body away from him and leaping toward the next unprepared troll.


    In his anger and semi-raged state, he leaped further and faster than he had planned. He still had both axes raised to strike but was forced to turn his forward momentum into a headbutt. His vision flashed white as his skull connected with the troll¡¯s carapace, and he blacked out to a sickening crack that echoed through his mind.


    Jonathan''s eyes cracked open to a dim darkness. Stone pressed against his stomach and cheek. The next thing that he noticed was the thick metallic scent of blood in the air. As his vision adjusted, he could make out the broken shapes of bodies scattered across the cave floor. Shattered stone limbs caught what little light filtered in from the entrance.


    His muscles protested as he pushed himself to his feet. Blue windows cluttered his vision, but he ignored them, focusing instead on finding his way out of the cave.


    "Fuck off," he mumbled, his voice coming out a harsh whisper.


    Judging by their builds, he stumbled over fragments of what had once been warriors, both male and female.


    As he reached the mouth of the cave, the rising sun coated the landscape in pale oranges and reds. He stopped at the opening and saw more bodies littering the ground outside, creating paths of destruction that led both toward and away from the cave mouth. Jonathan stood at the threshold, dawn casting his shadow back into the cave as he looked over the carnage before him.


    He looked down at his own hands for several long heartbeats before his knees hit the ground. He wanted to scream, to pound his fist against the stone until it broke, but exhaustion had settled deep in his bones. The rage that had sustained him felt distant. While part of him was grateful for that distance, another part just wished for the now-familiar feeling of falling back into his consciousness as the darkness took him.


    His hands trembled as he reached for one of his axes, noting how the stone blade held several chips in its sturdy blade. Despite the combat it had seen, it still held its edge.


    Another blue window appeared before him, and he lifted his eyes to scan the text.


    Congratulations, Awakened! You have gained a Title!


    You gain: Title - One Against Many


    He dismissed the window before forcing himself to his feet. He walked out of the now desolate camp with his boots dragging across the dry, rocky ground.


    The next two days passed in a blur of survival. Jonathan followed the paths between water sources that he noticed during his initial scouting. He drank from the pools of murky water, uncaring of the potential bacteria or sickness within. He caught several of the armored rats with simple snares made from strips of leather taken from dead troll weapons and clothing.


    Each night, he made camp in defensible positions. He looked specifically for small caves or spaces between boulders that would funnel any attackers into killing zones. He slept late and woke at the slightest sound.


    He encountered smaller groups of trolls, engaging them at every opportunity. Blue windows appeared after each blackout, but he dismissed them without reading. Every time he embraced the darkness, he would wake feeling disappointed and find any wounds or injuries sustained had healed.


    Jonathan continued to work his way deeper into the strange terrain and eventually found signs of increased troll activity. At the end of his second day, he found tracks that led to a massive settlement built into the face of a cliff.


    He found a position with good sightlines and settled in to do some reconnaissance. He saw dozens of trolls moving to the camp with purpose, all of them deferring to a massive figure that had emerged from the main cave.


    .


    The chieftain stood head and shoulders above the others. His stone hide was marked with deep grooves that Jonathan assumed were some sort of decorative scarring. The massive creature carried a weapon that looked like a combination of a hammer and an ax. The head of the hammer was easily as large as Jonathan''s torso.


    His lips slowly curled into a smile, and he felt like he may have truly found his match.

 Chapter 9: Breaking Point

    Jonathan looked over the Rock Troll camp, his hands loosening and tightening around the leather-wrapped axe handles repeatedly.


    The camp sprawled across a natural depression in the rocky terrain, filled with crude structures and the massive forms of the trolls moving between them. A large figure stood near the center, its rocky skin a shade darker and a head taller than the others.


    Jonathan recalled the System blue window that appeared in his vision and labeled a task to slay the Rock Troll Chieftain. He watched the creature as it moved among the other trolls, grunting and interacting with them before returning to its position at the center of the camp.


    He knew that he should have been planning. His experience in war told him that he should have been looking for weak points or counting combat-capable bodies. Instead, his mind drifted to Marcus as he watched the Chieftain.


    The rage that had carried him through his previous fights lingered at the edge of his mind. Before, it had always taken him by surprise, crashing over him like a wave. It was something to be resisted or fought against.


    This time was different.


    Jonathan reached for it deliberately, feeding the anger with memories of both of his sons¡ªregret, pain, and loss in equal measure.


    His grip tightened on the axe handle until the leather wrapping creaked. The rage was there, waiting for him to surrender to it. For the first time, he welcomed it.


    ¡°Come on,¡± he growled while pushing himself to his feet and standing tall. ¡°Let¡¯s get this over with.¡±


    He jogged down the slope, his boots sending loose stones clattering down the slope. The nearest troll turned at the sound, its mouth opening in surprise. Jonathan felt a similar heat building in his chest and spreading through his veins as the world began to turn red.


    Jonathan smiled at the grim thought that crossed his mind, almost a challenge to the rage within.


    The last thing he remembered was raising his axe and activating his skill as the first troll reached for its weapon.


    Awareness returned to him like surfacing from an ice bath. Jonathan found himself standing in the middle of chaos, his chest heaving and his muscles burning.


    His senses returned one by one. First came sound, amplified and muffled at the same time, similar to how his ringing ears felt after an IED had gone off. He could hear the crunch of stone, guttural growls, and his own ragged breathing. Next, he noticed the taste of blood and finally, his vision cleared, showing the tint of red retreat to the far reaches of his vision.


    There were destroyed shelters and broken bodies littered around him on the ground.


    The peaceful feeling washing over him felt wrong. It felt completely disconnected from the violence surrounding him. His body wanted to relax and lower its guard.


    Despite what his own instincts were telling him, he could see the chaos and danger around him.


    Through the haze of calm, he registered movement. The Chieftain towered before him, almost twice his height. Up close, Jonathan could now see that the scarred markings on his carapace formed tribal symbols and patterns.


    Jonathan glanced down and saw both black and red blood covering his arms and chest. His shirt was cut further than it had been before he began the attack, and he could see freshly healed scars on his skin through the fabric.


    He only held one axe, and he looked around for the other to see the one he¡¯d been using in a troll¡¯s chest several yards away.


    A rhythmic chanting cut through the air and Jonathan looked over to its source. Past the Chieftain, Jonathan saw a smaller and skinnier troll that was perched atop one of the rock outcroppings. It held a gnarled wooden staff, and its hands moved in circular patterns over a glowing design etched into the rock. With each gesture, the peaceful feeling intensified, and Jonathan felt like a cold bucket of water was being splashed onto his simmering rage.


    The realization that some sort of magic was being performed on him to quell his rage hit him. He was fascinated, horrified, and worried all at once. The burning strength that had carried him through previous fights drained from his limbs, leaving his muscles tight and exhausted.


    He could still feel his natural strength, enhanced by the stat points from the System, but the primal fury that had made him unstoppable was gone.


    The Chieftain''s massive stone fist swung toward him. Jonathan dove to the side, his movements sluggish without the rage''s enhancement. The blow cratered the ground where he''d stood.


    ¡°Shit,¡± he muttered while rolling to his feet. His body felt wrong, and as chips of stone slapped his skin and he registered the sting of pain, Jonathan felt vulnerable.


    Feeling like a fool, Jonathan realized that he¡¯d come into this reckless assault with no plan at all. He didn¡¯t care if he died, he had just wanted to cause as much damage as possible to these monsters and perhaps kill the Chieftain. Instead of planning things to be as effective as possible, he¡¯d given into this strange power and depended on it to get the job done.


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    He slapped his face, attempting to feel any rage or excitement in the fight, but his body continued to remain calm and at ease.


    The Chieftain advanced, each step shaking the ground. As Jonathan backpedaled, he did his best to reorganize his thoughts and regain control of his emotions, but the large monster moved to follow him.


    When he looked back and saw the wall of a hut was collapsed with the feet of a stone troll sticking from the hole, he knew he couldn¡¯t keep retreating the way he¡¯d come. He glanced around but saw other trolls beginning to gather and watch the fight between the small human and their Chief.


    He refocused on the Chieftain just in time to see him pull back the massive hammer and bring it down in a strong overhead strike. Jonathan slipped to the right and stepped in toward the troll. As the Chieftain was forced to bend at the waist, following the weight of his hammer, Jonathan let some of his boxing experience take over as he sent a jab and a strong right hook into the rock troll¡¯s head while they were at the same level.


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    The impact reverberated through his arm, and the blow broke a few bones in his hand. Despite the punch having good form, his Strength surprised him as the carapace on the Chief¡¯s face cracked from the blow and sent him stumbling.


    Still, he knew it wasn¡¯t enough. The Chieftain barely staggered, its dark eyes fixing on Jonathan with newfound interest. It hefted its massive hammer.


    Jonathan looked down at his fist and how his right hand was awkwardly shaped from the broken knuckles and fingers. He realized that with his increased strength, he¡¯d gained a lot, but without increasing the other more reliable survival stats, he may have prevented his ability to withstand his own strength.


    He dodged several more blows, holding his stone hatchet in his good left hand. His thigh muscles were burning from the bursts of energy unenhanced as he was by his rage. Each time the hammer smashed into the ground, it left a small crater of pulverized stone. After watching that happen over and over, without the Chieftain tiring, Jonathan knew that he had no hope of matching the monster blow-for-blow.


    Jonathan needed another way.


    The shaman continued chanting from its perch and Jonathan¡¯s eyes darted to the circle it stood atop. For a moment, he considered if he could reach it and disrupt the emotion-manipulating magic. He dismissed the thought, realizing that the shaman was too far away and he¡¯d be over-exposing himself to the Chief if he did attempt to make it across the middle of the camp. Also, he realized that he didn¡¯t want the rage back. Not now.


    The Chieftain continued to press forward, each swing of its hammer crashing into the ground with the force of a car crash. Jonathan kept moving, but as he was becoming more sluggish, the troll was becoming more frustrated and refused to tire. He did his best to analyze the fighting style of the troll and found it to be powerful be predictable.


    Each overhead strike buried the hammer deep enough that it took a moment to wrench free. He thought that it could be something to exploit as a weakness, but it wasn¡¯t enough on its own.


    Something tickled at his memory as he circled the Chieftain. His first fight with a troll before the rage had taken him. The monstrous creatures were well-armored but not perfectly so.


    The Chieftain roared, the sound echoing off the rock formations. Its next swing came horizontal, forcing Jonathan to duck and roll. He came up near a fallen shelter, using the debris as cover while he caught his breath.


    He knew that each move needed to count. The peaceful calm from the shaman¡¯s ritual dulled his emotions and made focusing on the danger of the fight harder than it should have been. He continued to think through the Chieftain¡¯s pattern as he caught his breath and heard the beast moving on the other side of the destroyed hut.


    The hammer crashed down behind him, missing by only a few inches. Remnants of the hut exploded outward as the hammer embedded itself into the ground. The Chieftain grinned and wrenched it free with a grunt, causing more stone chips and wood to fly in Jonathan¡¯s direction.


    Jonathan filed the detail away, adding it to his growing tactical assessment.


    He supposed that, in a way, the shaman¡¯s magic was actually helping him. He wasn¡¯t normally one to overthink a plan, and even less so since the rage had begun to take him. With the forced state of calm, Jonathan found the aspect of thinking through his plan easier than the actual fight, which was a first for the grizzled veteran.


    Standing, Jonathan¡¯s eyes were trained on the head of the hammer. He saw it go back and could tell from the troll¡¯s stance that it would be a side strike. He ducked and rolled, feeling the air over his head move with the force.


    He was so focused on the hammer that he almost missed the boulder hurtling toward him. The Chieftain had grabbed a piece of debris with its free hand, launching it with terrifying speed. Jonathan twisted away, but not fast enough.


    The boulder clipped his side and exploded against a rock formation behind him. White-hot pain shot through his side and back as stone shrapnel tore into him. He stumbled, feeling warm blood soak his shirt. Jonathan noted that he had at least two broken ribs. As he tried to move and take deep breaths, they screamed in protest.


    ¡°Getting too old for this shit,¡± he muttered while pressing his broken hand over the worst of the lacerations to apply pressure. He created some space and looked down at his side. While he knew that the injury wasn¡¯t immediately fatal, he could feel his movement being restricted further by the wounds. If he wasn¡¯t able to continue moving around the troll, he would die quickly.


    Without the {Rage} regeneration, each of his wounds would stick, compounding each mistake. He cursed himself and tried to think through the rest of the plan.


    The Chieftain advanced, sensing weakness. Its hammer dragged across the ground and left a furrow in the stone. Jonathan backed away, his combat boots crunching on the rocky ground. The terrain was a bit different than normal, unstable with a slight slope. Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place.


    He thought back to his first troll kill and remembered how his combat knife had found the weak spot where carapace met soft flesh. The Chieftain had the same vulnerability. Jonathan had seen a glimpse of it when he stepped in to punch the larger monster. There was a band of exposed tissue just below the jawline.


    Jonathan planted his feet and ignored the pain in his side. He held the axe in his left hand, loose but ready. The Chieftain¡¯s dark, beady eyes narrowed, perhaps sensing a trap but too confident to care. It raised the hammer high, committed to an overhead strike that would end the puny human.


    Time seemed to slow for Jonathan as he watched the hammer come down. As it came down with earth-shattering force, Jonathan began to move. Not away, but forward, as he had when slipping inside the troll¡¯s reach to land a punch. The hammer¡¯s head passed inches behind him, and the ground shook with the impact. Small stones and pebbles all around his feet rose a foot off the ground from the force of the blow.


    The Chieftain¡¯s strike buried the hammer deep into the unstable ground, and as it tried to wrench the weapon free, its footing shifted on the loose gravel. Jonathan saw the moment he¡¯d been waiting for in the form of a slight overextension as the creature fought for balance.


    He gathered every bit of strength he had left and activated his only skill. A pull of unknown energy leaked from his navel and into his arm as the skill activated, and his axe whipped out with more force and coordination than his injured left side should have been able to produce. The axe found the spot where a stone-like carapace gave way to vulnerable flesh.


    Black blood sprayed as the Chieftain¡¯s roar became a wet, gurgling sound. The creature released its hammer, and its massive hands reached for its ruined throat. It was too late, however, as his legs buckled, and the massive body crashed to the ground, causing the small pebbles to bounce once more.


    Jonathan staggered backward and felt his vision blur. The adrenaline coursed through his body, and he felt his eyes wide as he continued to scan his surroundings and heave for fresh air. He found himself still surrounded by remaining trolls. The shaman had stopped chanting and stared at Jonathan with wide eyes. Its gnarled staff clattered to the ground, the ritual circle''s glow fading to nothing as disbelief replaced its confidence.


    Each breath sent daggers of pain through his side, and he could feel blood soaking through his mangled hand and down his leg.


    Beautiful blue motes of light began to rise from the troll Chieftain¡¯s corpse, and Jonathan found his vision following them. He was surprised to find that, as he watched them rise like ethereal butterflies, he still felt calm and at peace.


    The lights rushed toward his body, and he tried to take a small, startled step back, but his leg gave out. As they connected with his chest and spread through his body, all of his skin began to tingle. A moment later, golden motes floated down around his own body, and he looked back and forth in wonder. He fell to his knee, and the entire world seemed to still. Those fifty or more trolls who had circled the fight continued to watch on in silence and disbelief though they were becoming restless at his obvious state of weakness.


    A bright blue glow caught his attention. Through pain-blurred vision, he saw a portal form a few feet away. The light seemed to beckon him as he realized that it looked identical to the one that he¡¯d entered through.


    Blue windows began to fill his vision.


    He pushed himself to his feet and dropped the remaining bloody axe to the ground as he used his knee for support. He took one stumbling step toward the portal and then another.


    His legs gave out again on the third step, but he never felt himself hit the ground.

 Chapter 10: Nexus Hub

    The molecular structures in David¡¯s organic chemistry textbook had started to blur together. He blinked hard, trying to focus on the carbon chain structures that he needed to memorize for his midterm exam. His small desk lamp cast a weak circle of light across his spread-out notes, barely reaching the edges of his cramped desk in John Jay Hall.


    An empty coffee cup teetered dangerously close to the edge, and three different colored highlighters rested in the crevasse of two different textbooks. His phone buzzed with another message from his study group¡¯s chat, and he saw Lindsey¡¯s name pop up. He unlocked his phone with Face ID and quickly checked the message, but she was just asking if anyone had solved the final practice problem.


    David ignored it.


    Pressure had been building during his midterm exams, and he needed to do everything possible to maintain his scholarship.


    ¡°Dude, how can you still be studying?¡± Matt¡¯s voice came from the other side of their shared room as he entered. David glanced at him and saw he was carrying his laptop by loosely holding one of the corners by the track pad, the expensive computer bounced in his grip with each step. Matt flopped onto his bed and lounged back with the laptop resting on his stomach. ¡°My brain stopped working like an hour ago.¡±


    David glanced at his watch and was surprised to see it was already past midnight.


    ¡°Some of us actually have to pass our classes,¡± he said while rubbing his eyes. There wasn¡¯t any actual heat in his words. David had to study things repeatedly before they stuck, whereas Matt was smart enough to coast through his business classes with minimal effort.


    The vending machine down the hall called out to David as he thought about getting another dose of caffeine to continue studying. He knew it wasn¡¯t a good idea, as his hands already felt jittery.


    Sitting back in his chair, David stretched and gave a loud groan. He took in the white walls of the small dorm room and the lingering smell of microwave ramen that Matt had heated up for dinner.


    As he straightened, his gaze drifted to the small frame on his desk. It was a family photo from his older brother¡¯s high school graduation. Marcus stood tall and proud, already looking like their father in his bearing. Dad¡¯s long-time military friend was also in the photo, with an arm slung over Marcus¡¯s other shoulder. David had found the man intimidating every time he came by the house, with tattoos covering both of his arms completely. Marcus had all but hero worshipped the man who acted like a favorite uncle.


    David quickly turned the frame face down, before the memories could resurface again. He¡¯d been back and forth on just packing the picture away in the previous few days. That last text from his father had sent shivers down his spine and he¡¯d had a break down in the middle of the lecture he was in.


    David forced his attention back to his textbook and pressed his thumb against the watch¡¯s worn leather band. He just needed to get through the current chapter. Then he could go to bed.


    ¡°Oh shit,¡± Matt said suddenly, sitting up straight. ¡°You gotta see this.¡±


    ¡°Not now, Matt. I need to-¡±


    ¡°No, seriously. Isn¡¯t this near your hometown?¡±


    Something in Matt¡¯s tone made David look up. The other boy turned the laptop around so that the screen could face David as he sat up. There was a harsh blue light coming from a video on the screen. The website wasn¡¯t one that David recognized, but he immediately spotted something familiar in the background. Mount Rainier loomed in the background of the footage. The large mountain seemed to be visible from almost anywhere on the western coast of his home state.


    The shaky cell phone footage showed what looked like downtown Tacoma, but David''s attention was drawn to something else. A tear hung in the air, its edges glowing with an eerie blue light. The video showed people being carried out by what looked like military personnel, their movements urgent and practiced as they carried stretchers between them.


    "It was posted on Nexus Hub like ten minutes ago," Matt said, already scrolling through the comments section. "But watch, it''ll probably get taken down soon. They do that with the good videos."


    "Nexus Hub?"


    "Yeah, it''s like Reddit but for weird stuff. People have been posting about the portals and calling them Rifts. Apparently, they have been popping up for the last week or two." Matt click through to another page. "They''ve been showing up all over the country."


    A knock came at the door. Lindsey and Kevin from their study group stood in the doorway, both carrying textbooks and looking as exhausted as David felt.


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    "We got tired of the library," Lindsey said. "Mind if we join?"


    Kevin gave David that same careful look they had all been giving him since he told them about Marcus. But, neither of the two mentioned it directly at this point; they¡¯d learned quickly that David preferred to bury himself in his studies rather than talk about it.


    Before David could answer, Matt was already waving them over. "You guys gotta see this."


    Kevin pushed his glasses up as he watched the footage. "Look at those people that they''re carrying out. Are their wounds being healed? The cellular regeneration rate would have to be-"


    "Oh my God, stop," Lindsey cut him off. "You''ve been watching too much Marvel again." She leaned closer to look at the footage again. "Though I have to admit, this does look pretty real. But you know how good special effects are getting these days. My roommate showed me this app that can make super convincing fake videos with just a thirty second clip of someone talking."


    "Maybe," Matt said, "but would that explain why they keep getting deleted so fast?"


    "Could be copyright stuff," Lindsey suggested with a shrug. "Or maybe people just taking down their own posts after they go viral."


    "I''m just saying-"


    "Guys," Matt interrupted, "it''s gone. The post just got deleted."


    David barely heard their discussion as Matt pulled up other threads. His thoughts kept drifting back to his father, alone in their old family house less than an hour from where the Tacoma video had been taken. They hadn''t talked much since the last argument about David choosing premed over enlisting, only exchanging the occasional text.


    He reached for his phone but hesitated. He knew his dad''s contact info was just a few taps away, but what would he even say?


    Other than his dad¡¯s weirdly random text a few days before, they hadn¡¯t talked in more than a month. David picked up his phone and looked at their texts, feeling a bit of guilt bubble up in his stomach as he realized that the last few messages had been a few quick thank-you texts for his monthly allowance.


    He locked the device and placed it face down on the desk, knowing that his father was probably asleep anyway. That, or he was watching one of his late-night History Channel documentaries.


    "There''s another one," Matt said, pulling up a new video. "This one''s from Portland."


    David turned back to his organic chemistry notes. He was determined to focus on electron configurations instead of likely digitally edited portal videos. The midterm was tomorrow, and he couldn''t afford to waste time on¡­ whatever was going on.


    Try as he might, the molecular diagrams just couldn¡¯t pull his attention back from the glowing blue lights. After reading the same paragraph three times without absorbing a single word, he found himself opening his laptop.


    "What did you say that website was?"


    Matt grinned as if he won a victory, "Nexus Hub. Here, I''ll send you the link."


    Soon, all four of them were huddled over their devices, scrolling through different threads on the website. Though not many of the posts were being deleted, each of them saw it happen at least once in the short span that they were monitoring the website. Reports of similar tears called Rifts were popping up everywhere. There were some in Buenos Aires, London, Mumbai, even one rather close to them just outside Philadelphia.


    "How have we not heard about any of this?" David asked, glancing at Matt. "This is happening all over the place."


    "That''s the weird thing," Matt said. "Local news is apparently running some small stories here and there. Sometimes they end up on Nexus Hub, but sometimes they disappear, just like these. But yeah, it doesn''t seem like any of the big networks will touch this stuff."


    There was a pause, and then Matt spoke up again. ¡°Like, look at this thread I screenshotted the other day,¡± he said. ¡°Someone posted about National Guard vehicles moving through Michigan yesterday. Said they were setting up some kind of containment zone. The post got taken down pretty quickly, but there¡¯s been similar stuff from other states, too.


    ¡°My cousin¡¯s in the Guard,¡± Kevin added. ¡°She mentioned getting called up for some emergency training last week. Didn¡¯t say much else about it, though.¡±


    David¡¯s stomach clenched as he remembered his dads cryptic text the day before Marcus died. He had mentioned something about things being weird on Marcus¡¯s deployment.


    ¡°You saw some of this a few days ago?¡± David asked, a bit frustrated that he hadn¡¯t seen anything about this before.


    ¡°I¡¯ve been looking at these for a week or so now,¡± Matt said oblivious to David¡¯s inner turmoil. He pulled up a folder on his phone of screenshotted pages. ¡°At first, I thought it was just weird internet stuff, but there¡¯s definitely something going on. They started appearing all at once, and yeah, I know it sounds crazy- but I think the government is burying this for some reason.¡±


    ¡°You¡¯ve been sitting on this for a week?¡± Kevin asked with mock offense.


    Matt shrugged, ¡°Would you have believed me if I¡¯d just told you about it? Being able to show you more now because it¡¯s getting posted so much more makes it a lot easier to convince you.¡±


    David rubbed his tired eyes. "I just don''t understand why they''d hide something this big. If these things are dangerous..." He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.


    "Maybe they''re trying to prevent panic?" Lindsey suggested gently, catching the shift in David''s mood. S§×ar?h the nov§×lF~ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Look at this one," Kevin said, turning his phone. "Someone got footage of a military blockade in New York last week where they wouldn¡¯t let anyone through to see what was happening. They say that they''ve posted it three times, and it keeps getting removed. The video quality is terrible, but you can see that same blue glow off of some of the buildings in the background."


    Matt scrolled through his own feed. "There''s some people claiming weird stuff happens to people who enter these things. But it''s really hard to tell what''s real. Half of these posts read like a bad superhero fan fiction."


    David found himself searching for more reports from Washington state but kept getting distracted by new posts that would occasionally appear from around the world. Articles would appear and the rare video or photo proof would be attached in a user post.


    His organic chemistry textbook lay forgotten beside him as the night stretched toward morning. Outside their dorm window, the campus grew quieter, but David kept scrolling. He had a strange feeling settling in his stomach. It was almost like he was watching the world change, one deleted post at a time.

 Chapter 11: The Offer

    Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows and clenched his jaw. As consciousness returned and he realized that his body was responding, he flinched in anticipation of hitting the ground. He heard, as much as he felt, the cold metal cuffs slide against a metal bar.


    Squinting, he cracked his eyes open against the headache and bright white lights. As his vision returned and he could make out his surroundings, he saw the stark walls of a hospital room around him. The sterile smell of antiseptic mingled with the faint sound of beeping machines.


    A large number of blue windows were in the middle of his vision, and Jonathan wanted them to go away so he could scan his surroundings. He was partly surprised when the windows immediately winked out of existence.


    Disoriented and confused, he tried to piece together the events that led him to where he was. Panic threatened to claw at him as his thoughts played through the unbelievable world and slaughter that he¡¯d been in before losing consciousness.


    His heart raced as he scanned the unfamiliar surroundings. Bright overhead lights shone down on him, and he saw medical equipment next to scratchy white blankets. He shifted slightly and felt the restraints around his wrist. S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    As he looked down at them, eyebrows coming even closer together, he noted that they were more sturdy-looking than ordinary handcuffs. They looked more like thick, medieval manacles. Instinctively, he tested them, feeling the weight of the metal strain against his newfound strength. They creaked ominously under his tug, and a sense of calm settled over him.


    He realized that if he needed to, he could break free. His experience in post-combat situations kicked in, and he took stock of himself. Jonathan knew that he wasn¡¯t in danger anymore but felt the sense of vulnerability gnawing at the edge of his awareness.


    It was disconcerting to wake up and find one¡¯s self strapped to a bed and in nothing but a thin hospital gown. He shifted again to sit up and felt that his bare bottom was on the cold sheets. Unlike the last several times, when he¡¯d blacked out in the Rifts, he felt scabs and too-fresh injuries on his side. He¡¯d been too preoccupied with the cuff attached to his left hand. Only then did he look to his right and notice that the hand was tightly bandaged.


    ¡°Nurse?¡± he croaked.


    Jonathan was looking toward the door, but as he caught movement from the corner of his eye, he saw the curtain shift in the corner of the room. As it was pulled back, it revealed a figure sitting calmly in one of the egg-like guest chairs.


    The man wore a black suit and had dark skin. His completely relaxed demeanor set off early warning bells in Jonathan''s head. He tried to tense and sit up further but winced in pain as he did so.


    "Stay calm, Mr. Reeves. Please."


    Jonathan¡¯s eyes narrowed a bit as he lifted his left leg and pulled the short chain of his cuff tight, ready to yank against it with his full strength at a moment¡¯s notice. ¡°Who are you?¡±


    The man responded with a smile that seemed friendly. ¡°I¡¯m Agent Elijah Carter. I was brought into the Hunter¡¯s Association to help with recruiting,¡± he explained. ¡°My background is in negotiating- specifically, with people like you.¡±


    Jonathan noted that his body language was relaxed and didn¡¯t show a single sign of threatening posturing. The man¡¯s voice was somewhat tense but reassuring.


    ¡°People like me?¡± Jonathan challenged, his voice still coming out more gruff than intended.


    ¡°With powerful individuals,¡± Agent Carter clarified. ¡°Or people in powerful positions. It¡¯s important for us to build understanding rather than simply relying on coercion or pers-¡±


    ¡°Just tell me what you want. I hate a kiss ass.¡±


    Elijah covered his face with one hand and laughed.


    ¡°I told them... Screw it- Mr. Reeves, before I awakened, I was a hostage negotiator. My current job is different, something closer to a recruiter who focuses on potentially dangerous individuals- and it scares me shitless sometimes.¡±


    Jonathan raised an eyebrow at the quick change in tact before raising his left hand. He intentionally shook the chain and metal so that it clanged against the metal bar of the hospital bed. ¡°Doesn¡¯t a hostage negotiator normally try to get hostages free, not negotiate the hostage?¡±


    Elijah smiled again, this time more genuinely. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s really just a precaution. But I told them that it likely wouldn¡¯t hold you anyway if you didn¡¯t want it to.¡±


    Jonathan grunted.


    ¡°I came here today with two goals, Mr. Reeves. The first was to make sure that you weren¡¯t an immediate danger to those around you. If you woke up and began destroying the hospital and trying to kill innocent people, I had instructions to report your actions immediately to my supervisors and assist the teams waiting outside to try and subdue you.¡±


    ¡°Sounds a bit dangerous for you,¡± Jonathan muttered, thinking about how small the young man looked compared to the rock trolls.


    Elijah laughed nervously, ¡°Well, I¡¯m happy to report that isn¡¯t the case. The second reason is to attempt to have you join the Hunter¡¯s Association. We are a government-sponsored and funded organization focused on managing Awakened and closing Rifts. As a part of my task to recruit, I put together a full profile on people. It was a hunch, but from your background, I am guessing that you¡¯re the kind of person who prefers straight and honest answers.¡±


    ¡°Everyone hates a salesman,¡± Jonathan repeated one of his own father¡¯s favorite sayings.


    ¡°I did try to tell them, by my supervisor insisted I try to ¡®lay it on thick¡¯ and ¡®get him on our side no matter what¡¯.¡± Elijah huffed and scratched his ear. Another layer of the facade seemed to fall away and he spoke more openly, ¡°What do they even pay me for if they¡¯re not going to let me do what I¡¯m good at? They pay me so much because I¡¯m good.¡± He shook his head.


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    Jonathan couldn¡¯t help but feel he liked this version of young Agent Carter much more than the calm and confident facade he¡¯d had at the start of their conversation. It felt more genuine.


    ¡°Well, what¡¯s the offer then?¡±


    ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, now that I¡¯m not worried about you going on a rampage, we can get those cuffs off and have the nurse check on your injuries. Then we can talk more after that.¡±


    Jonathan nodded, finding that silence often suited him best when he was in an uncertain situation. He felt the tension ease slightly from the room as Elijah gestured for the nurse to enter.


    She was a young woman dressed in scrubs, carrying a clipboard. Her eyes darted between Jonathan and the Agent as if weighing the situation.


    ¡°Morning, Mr. Reeves,¡± she said. He could hear a bit of hitch in her voice as she spoke, ¡°Let¡¯s take a look at how you¡¯re doing.¡±


    Jonathan realized that it must seem like he was a dangerous criminal with Military Police stationed just outside of his room and his hand currently cuffed to the side of the bed. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed as she approached, still acutely aware of his exposed rear end.


    ¡°Can we get these off?¡± Jonathan said to the younger man.


    Agent Carter nodded, signaling next for the MPs to enter the room. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. The cuffs can come off. Just- let her check you first. You seem in pain.¡±


    The nurse looked between them again, and Elijah assured her that Jonathan was not a danger to her.


    As the nurse began her assessment, Jonathan winced when she peeled back the bandages on his right hand. "You''ve got some impressive scabbing going on here, and a ton of the bones in your fingers and knuckles are broken. Your body is recovering quite quickly for someone your age. The doctor¡¯s recommending that we prepare you for surgery and get you in a cast as soon as possible so that your hand heals right."


    Jonathan shook his head before she even finished the sentence. "No, I''ll be all right. When can I leave?"


    The two of them looked at each other, and Elijah simply shrugged. This caused the nurse to look back at him in bewilderment.


    "Leave? I''d be surprised if you could even walk right now with your broken ribs and the lacerations that we had to glue together along your right side. You should be here for at least another week."


    Jonathan shook his head again. He looked at Elijah before saying, "I''ll be fine. When can I leave?" This time, he directed the question toward the government official, not quite as worried about his physical state. With how things were at the moment, he knew that if he could just make it to another Rift or if he started to get angry again, his body would heal itself without needing to go through the trouble of surgery and extended bed rest.


    The nurse gave a huff before silently moving over to his side and checking beneath those bandages as well. The room was silent as she made a few marks on the clipboard.


    "I will let the doctor know about your updates, and he should be in shortly. He can decide when you can leave."


    "Yeah, right. Thanks," Jonathan replied, unconvinced that getting out of the hospital would be quite so easy.


    As she left the room, Elijah turned to the MPs, who seemed uneasy, hovering just inside the doorway. "All right, you guys can uncuff him now."


    Jonathan gave a snort as he felt that the agent was trying to keep the mood light but the wary glances exchanged between the two MPs was not lost on him. He raised his shackled hand and said, "I won''t bite. I''ve got absolutely nothing against the two of you."


    Elijah cleared his throat as Jonathan rolled his wrist a few times once the cuff was removed. "Now that you''re a bit more comfortable, I want to talk to you about the Hunter''s Association." He slid the small chair he had been sitting in before closer to the side of Jonathan''s bed. "You''ve proven yourself already by closing Rift on your own. I know I shouldn''t say this, but you''ve got some people upstairs in a panic. We''ve only closed a handful of Rifts with teams that were working with that specific purpose." Elijah smiled and shook his head in disbelief while raising his hand to gesture at Jonathan, "Then, here you are, an old special operations vet, closing one all by yourself."


    Jonathan shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his side while touching the bandages gingerly with his good hand. "No need to butter me up, son. Don''t dance around it. What''s the offer?"


    "I''m going to be straight with you," Elijah replied, the sincerity in his tone returning. "We need experienced individuals like you to help manage awakened and to close Rifts. We''re not looking to force your hand, but instead, we want to work together. If you agree to join, we can absolve you of any charges related to your recent activity."


    Jonathan raised an eyebrow and looked up from his side, "So, if I accept your offer, I can leave without consequences?"


    "Yes," Elijah confirmed. Jonathan could see a hint of hesitation in his tone and waited silently until the younger man continued. "But, I won''t lie; we need to assign someone to keep an eye on you for safety-"


    "Am I under arrest or being detained?" Jonathan interrupted. He had a suspicion that the government was doing the best to keep most of this out of the public eye and while they would certainly have means to detain him and keep him somewhere out of public sight, he didn''t think that this negotiator would be willing to make a scene here in the hospital.


    "No, not at all," Elijah hurriedly clarified. "You''re free to go, but I do need to ensure that you have supervision. I mean, for everyone''s sake." He gestured at the walls around them. "My supervisors really aren''t taking any chances with you until they''re more sure of your motivations. They seriously cleared out this entire block of the hospital, worried that you might wake up and go on a rampage."


    Jonathan found himself considering as he stared at the ceiling.


    "I don''t want to join your organization. I served my country and just lost my son doing the same. My only goal right now is to kill as many of these bastards in the blue portals as possible. If you can make sure that I get into more of them, then I''ll accept your supervision. I don''t plan to do anything other than fight."


    Elijah let out a breath. "I think that will be acceptable. But if I were you, I would be prepared for them to try to entice you into the Hunter''s Association while you''re under its supervision. You are really too powerful for them to want to let go."


    Jonathan shrugged, "They can try." Jonathan winced as he sat all the way up and used his good hand to pull the metal bar down next to the bed. He dragged his legs to hang over the side and gave a grunt as he stood with his shoulders semi-hunched. "Right, so you''re saying I''m getting someone to babysit me? I''ll accept as long as it''s you," Jonathan said firmly. "I like people who are honest and smart enough to read a room."


    "Uh, of course. I can- I can talk to my boss about that," Elijah replied, surprised. Judging by his features, it was clear he was caught off guard by the demand. ¡°I¡¯m just not sure-¡±


    ¡°Great,¡± Jonathan said with a smirk as he moved to the clothes that rested in a chair in the corner of the room. He had to limp to prevent the cuts on his side from stretching open, but as he reached his clothes, he knew that his bare ass was facing the already off-kilter agent.


    ¡°Uh, I¡¯ll give you some privacy. I need to call my supervisor.¡±


    Jonathan nodded as he untied his robe and began to dress with one hand.


    When Elijah returned, he looked slightly more composed, though the nerves were still present. ¡°Good news, Mr. Reeves. My supervisors agreed. I¡¯ll be your temporary liaison. They feel better knowing someone is here who can manage the... unique circumstances surrounding you.¡±


    Jonathan chuckled lightly, surprised at the lightness of the moment. ¡°They really threw you under the bus, huh? Well then,¡± he said while moving toward the door. ¡°let¡¯s go.¡±


    ¡°You want to go find a Rift already?¡± Elijah moved deeper into the room to grab his coat before hurriedly following Jonathan.


    ¡°No. Food first, and you can tell me some more about these damned portals.¡±


    ¡°Rifts.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, sure. Ugh, and I need to look at these damned blue screens.¡±


    The MPs stared at the interaction and change in dynamic between the two with mouths slightly open. Their surprise was evident as Jonathan walked past them, and a nurse came jogging down the hallway, calling for the pair to wait.

 Chapter 12: Gains

    ¡°Mr. Reeves, you should really check them out.¡±


    Jonathan clicked the button on the side of his phone, locking it. There hadn¡¯t been any notifications for him anyway. ¡°You just want to hear more about my powers.¡±


    Elijah rolled his eyes, ¡°Now you¡¯re just doing it on purpose. They¡¯re called not powers.¡±


    Jonathan grunted.


    ¡°I¡¯m serious. If you leveled up then you could probably put points into your Vitality and heal up faster. You¡¯re in pain, aren¡¯t you? Come on, at least look at your Status Screen. Tell me how many Free Points you have, and I¡¯ll shut up.¡±


    ¡°Status Screen,¡± Jonathan said.


    ¡°You don¡¯t have to-¡± Elijah cut off as he saw Jonathan¡¯s annoyed look. ¡°Right.¡±


    The blue screen filled his vision, and he scanned his Status Window.


    Status


    Name: Jonathan Reeves - Level 7


    Class: None


    HP: 82/110


    MP: 100/100


    Traits: (1/3)


    {Rage}


    Titles: <Choose Display Title>


    One Against Many


    Physical Stats:


    Strength: 16


    Agility: 14


    Constitution: 11


    Vitality: 10


    Magical Stats:


    Intellect: 11


    Willpower: 13


    Mana: 10


    Wisdom: 11


    Free Points: 12


    Active Skills:


    [Rending Strike] (Novice - Level 2)


    Passive Skills:


    (None)


    ¡°There are 12 Free Points,¡± Jonathan said.


    Elijah¡¯s head whipped to the side to stare at Jonathan with wide eyes. ¡°I¡¯m tempted to slam the brakes on the car right now, just for emphasis. You have Free Points?¡±


    ¡°Fuck off.¡±


    ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Sorry, I was just making the window go away.¡±


    ¡°I- you¡­ what?¡±


    Jonathan couldn¡¯t help but crack a smile as the agent stared with his mouth hanging open.


    ¡°Did you get all of those from completing the Rift Quest?¡± S§×ar?h the Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Completing the Rift Quest gives you Free Points?¡±


    ¡°What? No. When you accept the reward from the quest, you should get experience related to how much you contributed.¡±


    ¡°Oh. Then, no.¡±


    ¡°No?¡±


    ¡°I haven¡¯t accepted any quest rewards yet.¡±


    Elijah slammed the brakes of the car. Jonathan couldn¡¯t keep it together anymore and began to laugh as they came to a halt. The double-lane road through southern Washington was empty, and the gesture was much more dramatic than it needed to be. But Jonathan found that teasing the younger man was fun in a way he hadn¡¯t had since taking his boys hunting.


    ¡°You¡¯re messing with me, aren¡¯t you?¡±


    Jonathan shook his head and held his injured side, doing his best to stifle the building''s laughter.


    ¡°Twelve,¡± Elijah stressed again while setting his head against his seat. ¡°That means you¡¯re at least level 5? That¡¯s crazy, but you completed the Rift without those points, so you have to be higher. Are you level 10?¡± At the last question, he sat bolt upright and looked at Jonathan with eyes as round as saucers. ¡°Do you have your class?¡±


    Jonathan almost missed the last question as it came out as a whisper. ¡°I¡¯m only level-¡±


    ¡°Ah! Wait, wait. Sorry. You don¡¯t need to share this information.¡± Elijah straightened again and seemed to remember himself as he regained his professional bearing.


    Raising an eyebrow, Jonathan gave him a few moments.


    ¡°Levels, skills, and traits are all private information.¡± He gripped the steering wheel and began to drive down the empty road once more.


    ¡°Why?¡±


    ¡°Would you want a stranger to know what sort of home protections you have? Alarm, locks, weapons? It¡¯s the same as that. The difference is, now you¡¯re the weapon.¡±


    Jonathan looked out of the window and thought through his situation. ¡°I¡¯m guessing that whatever I tell you gets reported back to your supervisors?¡± When Elijah nodded, Jonathan shook his head.


    ¡°It¡¯s like the damned cookies all over again.¡±


    ¡°Huh?¡±


    He shook his head and decided that he could figure things out on his own. While they had been getting food, Elijah had explained a lot of basic information to Jonathan. Mostly going over terminology that was being used for Rifts, skills, stats, and more. The agent had also been kind enough to talk Jonathan through some of the basics of how the System windows worked.


    Now that he understood that it all worked off of his direct intent and he only needed to know a few certain ¡®commands¡¯ to give the System, he felt a lot more comfortable navigating the menus.


    Jonathan followed the directions that Elijah had given him. He was interested in getting more specifics about the stats. While he knew what each of those words meant by their definition, he had to assume that they were more specific.


    Elijah had confirmed his suspicions and said that physical stats all had modifiers and affected the body in a certain way, while magical stats all affected the ability to use magic.


    The thought caused a window to appear.


    Physical Stats:


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Strength - 16


    Agility - 14


    Constitution - 11


    Vitality - 10


    Strength - Represents pure physical power, determining a character''s ability to lift, carry, and deliver powerful blows. As this stat increases, an Awakened One''s muscles may grow larger, becoming more defined and powerful, allowing them to perform feats of strength with greater ease.Agility - Governs how strength is applied. It focuses on speed, coordination, and explosive power through momentum. Awakened with high Agility move more fluidly and with greater precision, their muscles becoming more defined. They appear more graceful, with quicker reflexes and smoother movements.Constitution - Reflects an Awakened One¡¯s overall health, life points, and endurance. Those with high Constitution tend to have a sturdy appearance and strong bones. They can endure more physical punishment and recover from wounds more effectively.Vitality: Governs natural health regeneration and stamina recovery. Those Awakened with high Vitality may appear more youthful and energetic, regardless of their age. This stat helps them recover quickly from exertion and maintain peak physical condition.


    Jonathan thought through how he¡¯d been fighting so far and the toll that it was taking on his body. He realized that the moment he had been forced to fight without his {Rage} trait, he was reduced to such an injured state.


    The thought took him back to the middle of the fight against the Chieftain when he¡¯d landed a right hook so strong that it broke the stone carapace that protected the monster¡¯s face. At the same time, his bones hadn¡¯t been able to withstand his own force.


    Jonathan felt confident that if he was going to continue his fight against the monsters within the portals- no, the Rifts- then he would need to be more durable. It wouldn¡¯t be safe or smart to rely solely on the regenerative abilities he gained from {Rage}.


    Vitality also drew Jonathan¡¯s attention. He assumed that this because his trait said that it ¡®boosted physical power and regenerative abilities¡¯ the vitality stat would increase that ability to heal his injuries from a fight.


    He felt like there wasn¡¯t really any frame of reference for how high he should have his numbers. But, to be thorough, he also pulled up the other descriptors for the magical stats before applying any of his Free Points.


    He dismissed the idea of investing any points into those four stats, largely because he had no interest in the idea of magic. Jonathan had always trusted in things he could touch and see. He believed in hard work through sweat and the use of his hands.


    The idea of meditating and contemplating magical mumbo jumbo threatened to put him to sleep right there in the passenger seat.


    The normal definitions of those magical stats did make him smirk. He knew that Emma would find endless amusement if she could see that his Willpower was naturally higher than both his Intellect and his Wisdom. She¡¯d likely act unsurprised and call him an . It had always been her favorite nickname for the times he¡¯d been particularly stubborn or grumpy.


    Feeling a bit lighter at the thought of Emma guiding him through his choice, He looked back at his available points and decided to apply them in an even manner. If the potential for self-harm or sabotage could come about because one of his stats was too high, it only made sense for him to bring them up together.


    He placed his points and smiled as the numbers went up. When they were applied, Jonathan felt like his skin was tingling and he felt tired for a time. The thought that something as simple as mentally applying points to a screen could have immediate physical benefits was astounding to Jonathan and just felt wrong.


    It seemed to cheapen the entire experience to Jonathan. He shook his head and wondered if the concept of hard work was truly gone with time.


    He looked at Elijah, who was glancing at him more frequently than before, but stayed quiet to allow him to look through the windows.


    Jonathan braced himself and willed the System to show him the notifications he¡¯d been suppressing since his level 3 assault on the first rock troll camp.


    His eyes widened as he dismissed a large number of the rock troll slaying notifications as well as the level-up notifications that came from that assault. About midway through, he saw a notification that was new.


    Congratulations Awakened. You have completed Personal Quest: Culling Rock Trolls!


    You have one Personal Quest Reward available.


    Congratulations Awakened. You have completed Personal Quest: Culling Rock Trolls!


    You gain: 1x Item Enchantment Token


    ¡°Hmm,¡± Jonathan said as a glowing blue light began to coalesce in front of him. He leaned back a bit and held his good hand out.


    ¡°Is that your quest reward?¡±


    Jonathan looked at the small token he held in his hand. It was circular in shape, with a metallic finish, but I couldn¡¯t tell what sort of material it was made from. ¡°Yeah¡­¡± He flipped it over and saw that on one side, there was an embossed image of a piece of armor, while on the other was the emblem of an axe.


    He set it in his lap, deciding to come back to it after he was finished going through notifications.


    There was another notification for title that he¡¯d been awarded. When he saw that window, he directed his intent to get more information on the title, as Elijah had instructed him.


    Congratulations, Awakened! You have gained a Title!


    You gain: Title - One Against Many


    Title: One Against Many


    Fight against ten or more opponents by yourself and win.


    Jonathan nodded as he now realized where his additional stats had come from and it made more sense why he was so much stronger during his fight with the Chieftain. Next, he saw other kill windows from the two days he¡¯d skirmished with scouting parties as he tracked the main tribe.


    There were a dozen other notifications of killing the rock trolls as he entered the main camp and the final one stood out.


    You have slain Rock Troll Chieftain - Level 12


    Lastly was a cluster of notifications signifying his completion of the Rift Quest, two more level ups, and one asking if he wanted to accept the rewards. When he accepted he was surprised by the response.


    Congratulations Awakened. You have completed Rift Quest: Slay the Chieftain!


    You have one Rift Quest Reward available.


    Do You Accept? Yes/No


    Calculating Rewards.


    Processing¡­


    Reward Upgraded by System.


    You gain: 1x Uncommon E Rank Weapon Item - Ravager Greataxe


    More motes of light began to come together in front of Jonathan. As the group of lights grew brighter, they stretched out to take up significantly more space in the car. Both men¡¯s eyes went wide as it reached from one end of the car to the other.


    Elijah slowed the car down again, and they both waited for several heartbeats for an item to materialize. Nothing happened; it was just a bright white line of light hanging in the air between them and from one window to the next.


    ¡°Maybe it needs more space? Here, roll the windows down,¡± Elijah said as he rolled down both the driver and passenger windows.


    More blue lights floated up from where the item was forming and rushed toward Jonathan¡¯s chest. It reminded him of what he¡¯d seen after killing the Chieftain.


    As soon as both windows were down, Jonathan held his hands out, and Elijah cursed as a massive greataxe formed in the air and fell into his waiting hands. He grunted as he tried to grip it with his broken right hand, causing the heavy blade on Elijah¡¯s side to dip down.


    Elijah squeaked as the blade began to teeter down.


    Worried he might cut the young man, Jonathan twisted his wrist to lift the heavy axe head, only to be surprised as he moved the weapon with ease. Too much ease. The other side of the dark double-bladed axe head sunk two inches into the ceiling of the car.


    Both of them stared in silence, trying to process all of the things that had happened, when two new notifications appeared in his vision, and golden motes of light began to rain around him.


    Congratulations Awakened. You have leveled up!


    You have 3 Free Points to distribute.


    Congratulations Awakened. You have leveled up!


    You have 3 Free Points to distribute.


    Jonathan ignored the pain in his side as he let the laugh roll from his belly.

 Chapter 13: Clearance

    Jonathan got out of the car and resisted the urge to stretch.


    He¡¯d finished putting the most recent stat points into his screen and despite his frustration with easy growth, he found that he felt a sense of satisfaction in seeing the numbers on his Status go up.


    Status


    Name: Jonathan Reeves - Level 9


    Class: None


    HP: 148/160


    MP: 100/100


    Traits: (1/3)


    {Rage}


    Titles: <One Against Many>


    One Against Many


    Physical Stats:


    Strength: 20


    Agility: 17


    Constitution: 16


    Vitality: 16


    Magical Stats:


    Intellect: 11


    Willpower: 13


    Mana: 10


    Wisdom: 11


    Active Skills:


    [Rending Strike] (Novice - Level 2)


    Passive Skills:


    (None)


    He hadn¡¯t really known where to put the 6 points, so he felt a sense of satisfaction in bringing his Strength to 20. He then split the remaining four between Agility with two, and one for both Constitution and Vitality.


    Despite his injuries, his body felt strong.


    Jonathan moved to the back door of Elijah¡¯s car as it turned off and got out as well. He had been on the phone for the last twenty minutes, going back and forth with someone while holding the phone to his ear. Grunting, Jonathan reached into the back seat and grasped the handle of the large axe. He was surprised to feel something about holding the leather grip.


    He lifted the weapon and slid his hand up to grip a few inches below the large axe head. It was a terrifying weapon just by its appearance alone. It had a double-sided head, each side had a broad curve, tapering into flared tips at the top and bottom. In his mind, it created a striking silhouette that looked like a pair of deadly bat wings.


    The blade itself was crafted from dark, sturdy steel and gleamed ominously as it caught the light. He held the blade closer to himself and looked down at the weapon¡¯s sharp edges.


    Measuring almost two feet in width, the head of the axe was both impressive and intimidating. He squeezed his left hand into the gritty leather grip and felt the weight shift.


    Jonathan had to admit to himself that the deadly weapon made him feel powerful and he wasn¡¯t sure what he thought about those feelings.


    The haft of the axe seemed a bit over four feet in length and was made from a sturdy wood. The textured, black leather wrapping provided him with an easy way to grip the length of the axe.


    He grasped the handle below the head and let the weight fall to his side, careful of the sharpened edges. Walking to the front of the car, he smirked as Elijah explained to someone on the other end of the phone that there was now a gash in the top of his work vehicle.


    When the call ended, Elijah muttered a few choice words before leading the way to the barricade that was set up a short distance away. There was a challenge and password exchanged as they approached and while Elijah had an ID Card already in his hand, Jonathan could tell that the soldiers holding duty weapons looked nervous about the greataxe by his side.


    They¡¯d passed through the vehicle barricade a short distance down the dirt road and Elijah went through an identification check there.


    ¡°I¡¯m Agent Elijah Carter with the Hunter¡¯s Association. You should have just received a call about our arrival.¡± He handed over his ID.


    The closest soldier accepted the badge and asked for Jonathan¡¯s information as well. When he didn¡¯t have any available identification, it took Elijah threatening to call his supervisors for him to walk into the nearby guard hut and made a radio call.


    When he hung up the call, the private glanced nervously at the pair through the dirty window. He bent down at the waist below the glass and Jonathan knew he was likely writing their information down in a logbook. sea??h th§× N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    When he returned, he ushered them through the blockade. Jonathan struggled silently to keep up with the pace that was set, but he was surprised to find that he felt significantly refreshed. The fatigue in his muscles and general fog of running on fumes for several days in the Rift seemed to be almost completely washed away. Only the current injuries slowed him down.


    They made their way deeper into the fortified area. He gritted his teeth and hunched his shoulders against the chilly Oregon weather, wishing he had some kind of sweatshirt to wear and wondering if the next Rift would be as warm as the last.


    As they moved through the camp, Jonathan was shocked at how much the military officials listened to Elijah and when they saw his badge, were willing to help him get Jonathan prepared to enter. They were directed to a portable home with thin walls and minimal furnishing. They sat in foldable metal chairs while waiting for the captain to come brief them on the Rift.


    When Jonathan asked Elijah who his bosses were, or why he had so much power in something like the military camp, the younger agent just smiled and stated that he was with the Hunter¡¯s Association. He beamed with pride, and it was clear to Jonathan that he felt it to be an accomplishment to join the organization.


    ¡°I don¡¯t outrank anyone here, but it¡¯s more like the Hunter¡¯s Association is a part of the Army. The difference is, we¡¯re all Awakened and the whole purpose of this branch of the government is to help regulate and contain these anomalies.¡±


    Jonathan nodded in response, appreciating the notion. He wondered if Marcus would have wanted to try and join the Hunter¡¯s Association, if given the chance.


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    His thoughts were interrupted by Captain Dell entering. His military cut brown hair, and crisp uniform gave Jonathan a good first impression. The first words out of his mouth, however¡­ did not.


    ¡°I don¡¯t give a rat¡¯s ass who you are, how high your clearance is, or what kind of pretty badge you¡¯ve got. I have men inside there and I¡¯m not sending this busted up sandbag in after ¡®em. The last thing they need is dead weight. You understand that through that blue ball of energy is an entirely different world? One where technology doesn¡¯t work, and guns are about as effective as throwing rocks?¡± The captain walked across the small space and stood close to the seated pair.


    It was clear to Jonathan that he was making an attempt at physical intimidation by invading personal space and taking the higher position. He kept his face neutral, pushed his metal chair back a few inches, and stood to create an extra foot of space.


    While he wasn¡¯t intimidated in the least, he never liked the idea of potentially giving someone the first shot at such a large advantage.


    As Jonathan stood, he sized up the captain. The man was the same height as Jonathan while hunched over to keep his cuts from opening. After staring down the Rock Troll Chieftain, Jonathan wondered if any human would ever look intimidating to him again.


    ¡°Sir, I assure you-¡± Elijah was cut off mid-sentence as the captain held up his hand.


    He kept eyes locked with Jonathan but addressed Elijah with a smile on his face. ¡°I don¡¯t want to repeat myself, You two can either wait until my men come back in a few days, or you can pack up and leave.¡±


    Jonathan shrugged, intentionally looking away from the captain, though angled his good side toward the man. ¡°I don¡¯t care about waiting a few days.¡± Despite his calm appearance and demeanor, he could feel his pulse quicken and his heart begin to hammer.


    There was a surprising moment as he felt {Rage} begin to reach for his consciousness and some abnormally aggressive thoughts enter his head.


    Jonathan realized that he didn¡¯t even know his own strength at this point, and he could find out at the same time the captain did.


    His eyebrows came together, as he made a conscious effort to squash the aggressive thoughts. He knew that it wasn¡¯t like him to instigate a fight. Wondering if he¡¯d been embracing the System trait too much in the last week of fighting, he reined in those feelings. He resolved that the anger needed to be directed at the Rifts and those monsters that took his son¡¯s life, not this military officer who was trying to protect his men.


    Jonathan was surprised by Elijah¡¯s response.


    ¡°No,¡± Elijah shook his head and squared his shoulders to the taller man. ¡°Captain, it¡¯s funny- just before you stormed in here, I was telling Jonathan, a potential Hunter who just closed a Rift , how we are a branch of the Department of Defense. Just like the Army. We¡¯re all on the same team here, isn¡¯t that right? As far as I¡¯m aware, Mr. Reeves has the most combat experience in this room, both before and after the Rifts began to appear.¡±


    Jonathan felt uncomfortable being advocated for in a way that shared his own deeds, but he knew men like Dell. Combat experience, prior service, and accolades could go a long way to swaying his opinion.


    It was clear the captain wasn¡¯t happy, and just before he would speak again, Elijah added, ¡°I know you don¡¯t ''care what my clearance is,'' but I can assure you that my direct supervisor could have you signing a GOMOR and likely removed from your post so fast it would make your head spin.¡±


    There was another tense moment before Captain Dell grunted and stormed out of the small room just as quickly as he¡¯d come in.


    Jonathan raised his eyebrows and nodded at Elijah while giving a thumbs up. ¡°Nice job, kid. Wasn¡¯t expecting that from you.¡±


    Elijah¡¯s confidence cracked a bit as he smiled and let out an explosive breath.


    From there, a much more respectful sergeant entered the room and brought some paperwork with him. There were typed notes from a previous team¡¯s debrief and what they¡¯d experienced inside the Rift. There were hand sketches of the monsters within, apparently oversized wolves and other forest creatures. Most were between levels 5 - 10.


    Jonathan had asked for information on the team inside, as to not cause any issues. He was given a challenge and password to use that would identify him as a comrade. At different points, Elijah stepped in and gave his own bits of knowledge to answer questions about how the two quests that are given would be the same as what others had received.


    Elijah asked a few more questions of the sergeant that Jonathan wouldn¡¯t have even known to ask. When the Hunters Association agent found out that this was an Uncommon E Rank Rift, he seemed to get more excited.


    By the end of the hour, Jonathan felt that he had enough information and was beginning to feel tense for the upcoming conflict. The sergeant took Jonathan¡¯s clothing sizes and asked him to wait a bit longer before entering the Rift.


    The Rift was a forest biome though it was roughly twenty degrees colder than the already chilly October weather where they were. Jonathan would receive a standard set of winter clothes to replace his current jeans and t-shirt.


    When they were alone again, Jonathan asked Elijah if he was ready.


    ¡°Ready? For what?¡±


    ¡°The Rift.¡±


    ¡°Who- me?¡± Elijah looked back and forth. ¡°You¡¯re joking.¡±


    Jonathan remained a deadpan face for a moment before a smile cracked his face.


    ¡°Not cool.¡±


    He gestured at the axe on the table. ¡°This should make things a lot different than the last Rift.¡± Reaching into his pocket, he removed the token as well. ¡°Can you tell me anything about this, or should I just use it on the axe?¡±


    ¡°Not much,¡± Elijah held his hand out for the token. ¡°But I can use my [Analyze] skill on it and share the screen with you.¡±


    ¡°You can share screens?¡±


    Elijah didn¡¯t answer, just waited a moment before demonstrating.


    E Rank Item - Item Enchantment Token


    Enchantment - Variable Based on Item


    ¡°Looks like it will give you a different enchantment based on the item you put it on. I¡¯ve only seen a few of these and they normally tell you what kind of item it can be used on.¡±


    ¡°So, is it better that it can be used on any item?¡±


    Elijah shrugged and recommended that he use it on the axe if possible. Weapons seemed to be the most important thing to the teams he¡¯d heard talk about their Rift missions.


    ¡°How do I use it?¡±


    ¡°Just break it with the back of your hand pressed to the item.¡±


    Jonathan did so and watched as a silver light enveloped the already intimidating greataxe. When the light absorbed into the axe, they both noticed the unsettling sheen of red on the bladed portion of the weapon.


    Elijah leaned in, ¡°Woah. Do you mind if I scan it too? We can see which enchantment it got.¡±


    Responding with just a gesture, Jonathan waited until the agent shared a new blue screen between them.


    E Rank Item -RavagerGreataxe


    Enchantment - Momentous Swings I, Grip I


    Token Enchantment (1/1) - Bitter Edge II


    "Wow, a Tier II enchantment got added. That must have been a better token than what I''ve seen used." He read over the window several more times. "That''s awesome, I haven''t seen two of those before. Grip is pretty common, it will just let you hold onto the weapon easier, even if it''s wet."


    Jonathan wanted to give the axe a few test swings, but didn''t think that he''d be able to grip it well with the current state of his hand. While it wasn''t tactically smart to test things in a live scenario, he felt that if the briefing was accurate, there would be monsters in the Rift that were weaker than he was after the gains from the System.


    The sergeant returned shortly with winter gear for Jonathan to take into the Rift. The clothing was sturdy and well-worn, clearly military issue. He changed quickly, appreciating the warmth of the thick jacket against the October chill. After gathering his few belongings in a small pack, he slung it over his good shoulder.


    The walk to the Rift entrance was quiet. Jonathan could sense Elijah''s nervousness beside him, but kept his own thoughts focused on what lay ahead. The familiar blue glow of the Rift pulsed in the distance, a reminder of both what he''d lost and what he intended to do about it.

 Chapter 14: First Contact

    The odd sensation of stepping through the Rift washed over Jonathan. As soon as gravity returned to him and his borrowed winter clothes settled around his body, a frigid blast of air met his cheeks. His injuries throbbed from the sudden return of gravity, and Jonathan braced his feet to keep himself upright as they touched down on the snow.


    A blue window materialized in front of his face, and he swatted it away with his right hand, grimacing.


    The clearing he¡¯d emerged in was eerily still. Two moons hung in the night sky. One of them cast a soft golden light, and the other threw shadows of the trees across the clearing with a pale white light. The towering pines circled around the clearing, almost like nature¡¯s version of a fenced-in pasture.


    Jonathan¡¯s breath clouded in front of his face as he took in his surroundings, grateful for the gear that the sergeant had brought him. Snow lazily drifted down from the sky, signaling the lighter portion of the weather. According to the report, there were two phases of weather within the constant night-time Rift. Either there was a light snow fall or an almost complete black out blizzard.


    Something about the clearing felt wrong. The pines stretched to be impossibly tall, and their needles carried a slight sheen. He squinted, unsure from this distance if the needles were actually glowing or if they were reflecting the moons above. Patches of moss clung to the trees, glowing and pulsing with a faint blue glow that seemed to ripple in waves through the forest.


    Even though it was dark and technically night, there wasn¡¯t a shortage of natural light. The snow at the edge of the forest reflected the moss¡¯s blue glow, and the trees and snow in the clearing reflected that of the brighter moon. The effect was both beautiful and unsettling.


    Jonathan regripped his new greataxe and ensured that his pack was slung high on his shoulder before shuffling through the snow toward the forest edge. He left a rut in the snow that was clearly visible from where he started and where he would reach the forest. Once arriving at the more sheltered area within the trees, he looked back while panting and feeling a sweat begin to rise. What he saw made him frown. He was displeased by the clear evidence of his passing, though he knew that if a previous blizzard had filled in the Army team¡¯s tracks, the next one would fill his in as well.


    He leaned against a tree, finally allowing himself to acknowledge the pain he¡¯d been masking. His broken right hand throbbed inside its tight bandages, and the freshly glued cuts along his side pulled with every deep breath. A quiet grunt escaped him as he shifted his weight and set down the pack.


    There was less snow beneath the trees, so he was thankful that moving through the forested area would be easier than pushing through the deep snow of the exposed field.


    He took a deep breath and despite the stitch in his side, Jonathan felt good. The stats seemed to be affecting him more by the minute, steadily increasing his feelings of strength and vigor since he¡¯d put them in. Looking around the forest, he let the breath out and thought about the prospect of combat.


    He slung his pack before beginning to move deeper into the woods. Unbidden, a memory of Marcus came to mind from the last time they¡¯d gone hiking together on one of the many Washington National Park trails.


    The memory stung worse than his injuries.


    He began a methodical sweep of the area, moving as quietly as his injuries would allow. The snow was shallow under the trees, just enough to crunch beneath his boots and make tracking easier. Jonathan adjusted the greataxe in his left hand as he moved, testing different grips. The weapon''s weight felt natural despite being forced to use his off-hand. The red sheen on its blade caught the moonlight, making it look like it was already stained with blood.


    After fifteen minutes of careful observation, he spotted what he was looking for.


    He wasn¡¯t sure which direction was which, but he would assume, for the sake of consistent reference, that North was the general direction he¡¯d entered facing. South would be back toward the Rift exit. He was surprised to note that the moment he thought of the exit, he felt a gentle tugging sensation in his stomach as if it were trying to lead him back home.


    Jonathan stood still, considering his options. The tracks meant the government team was ahead of him, but following them would mean potential complications. He wasn''t here to play rescue squad, and he needed to find something to fight, something strong enough to trigger {Rage}.


    A gust of wind sent snow swirling through the trees, and Jonathan hunched his shoulders against the cold. The movement pulled at his glued wounds, drawing another quiet grunt of pain. In the distance, something howled.


    Jonathan turned away from the boot prints, heading east into deeper forest. The bioluminescent moss created patches of ghostly blue light among the trees, pulsing like a heartbeat as he passed. He moved with purpose now that there was a target for him to find. His left hand tightened on the greataxe''s grip, ignoring the protests from his injuries.


    He moved for a time in the direction that he¡¯d heard the howls. To Jonathan, it didn¡¯t much matter if he found them or if they found him. After a few hundred meters he heard movement ahead which caused him to move slower and duck from tree to tree as he closed in on the sound of breaking branches. His boots crunched softly in the snow.


    The noise grew louder until he reached another clearing, about a third the size of the one he¡¯d been in when entering the Rift. The dual moons cast enough light for him to see the monster clearly.


    The bear was massive. It was far larger than any he¡¯d seen or heard about back home. Its shoulder would have reached Jonathan¡¯s chest, and its head was the size of his torso. Dark fur rippled as it moved, fat and muscles easily seen beneath the skin.


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    He wanted to wipe his palm but didn¡¯t dare set down the weapon he held. He shifted his grip once more before the bear lifted his head, sniffing the air. Jonathan cursed himself as he realized that he was upwind of the beast and knew that it had noticed his scent. The bear noticed him, rising to its full height with a deep growl that he could swear he felt through the ground.


    His pulse quickened, and the bear dropped to its front paws, which caused the surrounding snow to billow out around it. The beast charged, and Jonathan took a step back into the trees, positioning the thick pine branches between them.


    The bear crashed through the branches, showering Jonathan with snow and needles. He pivoted left and let his military training take over. The beast''s momentum carried it past him, giving him the opening he needed. He swung the greataxe in a wide arc, and he almost forgot to use his skill as the blade connected with the bear''s flank.


    The weapon bit far deeper than he''d expected. The blade sliced through fur and muscle like paper, drawing a roar of pain from the creature. Blood sprayed across the snow, steaming in the cold air.


    Something stirred in Jonathan''s chest at the sight of blood, and he could feel the {Rage} beginning to rise. Without thinking, he launched himself forward, surprised by his own explosive movement. His enhanced strength carried him across the snow in a single bound, injuries momentarily forgotten in the rush of combat.


    The bear was still reeling from the first strike when Jonathan brought the axe down in an overhead swing.


    The blow nearly split the creature¡¯s head in two.


    Jonathan stood there, breathing heavily as the massive body slumped into the bloodstained snow. The fight had lasted less than thirty seconds. He stared as blue lights began to drift up from the corpse. They seemed to fall lazily upward, mirroring the large snowflakes in the Rift. After a few heartbeats, they rushed at Jonathan and disappeared into his body.


    You have slain Twilight Grizzly - Level 6


    He could feel {Rage} simmering just beneath the surface, but the fight had ended too quickly to trigger it fully. His injuries throbbed, reminding him why he needed a real challenge. While the bear had looked impressive, it hadn''t been nearly enough.


    He bent and used the axe to crack open the bears chest cavity. It was gruesome work, but nothing compared to the aftermath he''d seen during his time in the rock troll Rift. Both the sergeant and Elijah had stressed to Jonathan how important the Mana Stones were to gather, though he really didn''t care for them all that much. He would check the corpses as he felt like it, but the thought of trying to do this with his exhaustion debuff after a fight, felt like an unnecessary torture.


    A burst of gunfire echoed through the trees, followed by several howls¡ªdeeper and more numerous than before.


    He wiped the blade clean on the bear''s fur. Without a backward glance at the bear, he moved toward the sound of combat.


    Jonathan moved through the trees, pushing his legs through their odd gait that came from favoring his right side. As he closed the distance, he could hear the gunfire become more sporadic and he could hear the mix of snarls and howls mixed in.


    Cresting the small rise, he saw a team of humans in the clearing below. Eight soldiers in winter gear had formed a rough circle, firing at massive wolves that circled in the trees beyond.


    The beasts were easily twice the size of normal wolves, their fur a deep grey that seemed to absorb the dual moons¡¯ light. Even from his current distance, Jonathan could see their eyes glowing with an unnatural green light.


    Several shadows seemed to move among the trees, though glimpses could be seen from the glowing moss. One of the wolves lunged forward, shrugging off a burst of fire. A soldier barely managed to dodge, scrambling back into the group¡¯s half circle.


    Though there was a small spattering of red from the wolf, it didn¡¯t seem to be bothered by the damage it took, easily moving back into the cover of the trees. The pack moved around the semicircle of trees at the base of the small hill and the humans kept their half circle and tried to retreat up the hill. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    From his vantage point, Jonathan could tell that the wolves were hunting the soldiers. They¡¯re testing strikes and herding the soldier¡¯s movements. His tactical mind worked, and it wouldn¡¯t make sense for the wolves to push the humans up the hill.


    The thought made his hair stand up on end, and he quickly looked within the trees to his left and right. Gunfire and screams continued below as the humans tried to coordinate the retreat up the slope while maintaining cover for their comrades. Jonathan tuned it all out as he looked beyond the outer three rows of trees, looking for any sign of movement.


    There was none that he could see, but he expected that the wolves would cut off the retreat as soon as they reached the top of the hill.


    He stood and moved around the tree. He ran down the hill, which turned into something of a hop. Wincing, he called out ahead of himself.


    ¡°Hey! Get up the hill, come on!¡±


    Several of the soldiers looked back at Jonathan as he came down the hill, and it was clear that others didn¡¯t hear him over the gunfire.


    Almost slipping twice, Jonathan was surprised that he could maintain his footing as he jumped, hopped, and slid down the hill on one good leg. Twice he used his axe to stabilize himself as if it were a walking stick. As he got closer to the group¡¯s rear, he called out again.


    ¡°You need to get up the hill. I¡¯ll fight the group, just go.¡±


    Several of the soldiers ignored Jonathan, but one got up from his position in a knee and yelled, ¡°Moving!¡± He crossed a distance toward Jonathan, who was standing near the rear of the group. ¡°Who are you? You look injured-¡±


    ¡°I am here to relieve you,¡± Jonathan looked at the man¡¯s rank, ¡°Sergeant, get your men moving in pairs and get up that hill. Only shoot if something makes it past me or tries to flank your men. Do you understand?¡±


    The soldier¡¯s eyes were wide, not from fright, but Jonathan knew the feeling of a life and death fight and the sergeant¡¯s adrenaline was likely rolling through his veins like thunder. His eyes were wide and dilated in the night to absorb as much information as possible, his helmet was slightly to the side and his eye protection was fogging from the hot breaths of air he was releasing with each panting breath.


    ¡°Sir, we can help-¡±


    ¡°This is your last warning, Sergeant.¡± Jonathan used a tone that he knew would get a response from the seasoned soldier. Direct authoritative command. ¡°Get your men moving, ¡± He could feel the {Rage} begin to build within his chest as his heart began to hammer. He caught more movement in the trees from his peripheral vision.


    To his credit, the squad leader only hesitated for another moment before turning to his men and issuing orders for a hasty retreat up the hill.


    Jonathan let his pack fall to the ground and let the greataxe slide through his fingers so that his left hand was holding the shaft closer to the bottom. The winged blades pulled behind him in the snow as he walked forward, in front of the soldiers¡¯ formation. He looked left and right as he came to a stop, knowing that the wolves were watching.


    He felt the {Rage} rising slowly, and while he felt that he could wait for the fight to fully start to pull him deeper in, he embraced the feelings of sadness. He fueled the feelings of anger he¡¯d been harboring since the chaplain arrived at his door. The anger at the beasts who took his son, and were trying to take more sons from the world.


    Thick red began to bleed into his vision and Jonathan smiled as he embraced the darkness.

 Chapter 15: Twin Moons

    Private First Class Tyler Roberts pressed his off-hand against a tree. By putting his palm and four fingers flat against the tree and sticking out his thumb, he could create a very stable surface for his rifle while still maintaining cover behind the tree. He tried to control his breathing as he covered the squad''s retreat. The twin moons cast strange shadows through the branches, making it hard to track the massive wolves that circled their position. His hands were steady on his rifle, but he felt as if his heart might jump through his throat any minute now.


    He pulled down his clear glasses, which continued to fog. By pulling them to the tip of his nose, he could lean his head forward and look down the rifle sights, seeing a clear line toward the trees.


    A shout from behind made him glance over his shoulder. He could see a man was sliding down the hill toward them, moving with an obvious limp that suggested an injury. Despite his wounds, he carried a massive axe like it weighed nothing.


    ¡°You need to get up the hill,¡± The stranger called. ¡°I¡¯ll fight the group, just go.¡±


    Roberts watched as Sergeant Miller spoke briefly with the man. He saw the sergeant''s usual cool demeanor crack for a moment before he started barking orders for a hasty retreat.


    Years of training kept him moving as ordered.


    The squad began moving up the slope in pairs doing their best to maintain covering fire. Roberts kept his position while waiting for his turn to move. He couldn''t take his eyes off the stranger as he limped forward into the clearing. The large axe dragged behind him in the snow and left a furrow in its path.


    Then something about the man began to change. Steam began rising from his skin where snowflakes landed, and his frame seemed to expand. Roberts could see his muscles swelling beneath his winter gear like an inflatable toy. More changes followed as he grew taller, and his previous limp vanished. The transformed man squared up to face the tree line.


    As if answering his challenge, several of the more ferocious wolves moved from their cover under the trees. The beasts were massive and seeing them move in a prowl was terrifying, especially as Roberts realized that their shoulders easily reached his chest. Their eyes glowed an unnatural green in the moonlight, and he counted six- no, seven of them as they circled the clearing.


    A wolf lunged toward Roberts'' position. He squeezed off a burst of rounds, causing the rifle to crack through the growing silence. Several rounds hit the wolfs chest, causing it to yelp and quickly disappear into the trees where it had come from.


    When the man moved, Roberts lowered his rifle and watched in awe.


    He had seen combat before, though never against beasts like the wolves. He had even trained in some of the best courses in the Army, but he''d never seen anyone move like the stranger. He exploded forward with impossible speed, no longer showing any traces of his previous injuries. His greataxe cleaved through the air, cutting down a wolf with brutal efficiency.


    "Roberts! Move your ass!" someone shouted from behind.


    ¡°Moving!¡± he called in response.


    Roberts started backing up the hill, his rifle trained on the battle below. The stranger was a blur of motion, steam rising from his body in the cold air. A wolf latched onto his arm, but the man didn''t even flinch. He grabbed the beast by its throat and slammed it into a tree with enough force to snap its spine. Roberts watched in amazement as the bloody bite marks on the man''s arm closed within seconds.


    Something was wrong with the man''s eyes. They glowed red in the darkness, and his roars of rage echoed through the trees, making Roberts'' blood run cold. They weren''t human sounds.


    "Private! Last man, move now!"


    He turned and scrambled up the hill trying to keep his boots from slipping on snow. The sound of a yelp and a wet thud caused him to look back once, and he saw the warrior using a foot to brace against the back of a wolf as the large battle axe was wrenched free.


    He caught up with the rest of the squad near the top of the hill, his lungs burning from the climb.


    Specialist Chen was doubled over, clutching his stomach.


    "Are you hit?" Roberts asked, dropping to one knee beside him.


    Chen looked up, his eyes wide with confusion. "No, I... something''s happening."


    Roberts heard Sergeant Miller curse softly behind them. ¡°Do you see a blue screen? They briefed us on this Chen, get yourself together. You¡¯ll be fine. Get on your feet.¡±


    Chen¡¯s eyes darted back and forth as he read something only he could see. "There''s all these numbers and... wait, why am I missing health? ¡®Cause I rolled my ankle?"


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    "I said get moving, Specialist," Miller growled. "We need to get back to the portal before the next blizzard hits."


    "Actually, Sergeant..." Chen pointed to their right. "I can feel it. The portal''s that way. It''s like there''s a string in my gut pulling me toward it."


    "That''s great, Chen. Now use those legs of yours and start walking that direction." Miller waved the rest of the squad forward. "The captain said these awakenings can happen if you kill a monster. It must have counted from something you hit with your rifle and counted when the man killed the wolf. Now let¡¯s get moving."


    Roberts helped steady Chen as he stood, watching his friend''s face closely. A small part of him hoped he''d get to see his own blue screen soon if what the sergeant guessed was true.


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    Roberts felt Chen hesitate beside him as they began to move. "But Sergeant, my stats... I can see my strength is only six, and-"


    "Chen, I swear to God, if you don''t shut the fuck up about your stats and start moving, I''m going to put you in a front leaning rest that''ll last until your retirement."


    The squad laughed, breaking some of the tension. They began moving through the snow, following Chen''s guidance. Roberts kept looking back down the slope, watching for glimpses of combat through the trees. His mind wandered to the rounds he''d put into that first wolf. If the warrior killed it...


    "Sergeant Miller, wait." Robert¡¯s voice cut through the night. "I have an idea."


    Miller turned, his face hard in the moonlight. "This better be good, Specialist."


    Roberts knew that tone. Whatever he said next had better be worth stopping their retreat. Below them, another wolf''s dying yip pierced the night air, followed by the sound of splintering wood.


    "The mission brief mentioned Mana Stones, sir." Roberts kept his voice steady despite the tension he felt in his chest. "They form when monsters die. If that guy is killing wolves that we shot..."


    Miller''s expression shifted. "You want to collect stones from a battlefield with that mad man still down there?"


    "I can stay behind, gather what I can, then catch up." Roberts tried not to think about the inhuman roars he had heard echoing up the hill. "Chen can guide you all back to the portal, and I can follow your tracks in the snow."


    The sergeant studied him for a long moment. Another crash echoed through the trees, followed by the sound of breaking branches. The strange warrior was pushing deeper into the forest, chasing the remaining wolves.


    "You hit any of those wolves, Roberts?"


    "At least three confirmed, Sergeant. Maybe more."


    Miller cursed under his breath. "Fine. But you wait until the man is gone. Don''t approach him, don''t try to talk to him. Clear?"


    "Roger, Sergeant."


    "Twenty minutes. Then you haul ass back to the portal, stones or no stones." Miller turned to the rest of the squad. "Chen, lead the way. Everyone else, weapons ready."


    Roberts watched his squad disappear into the darkness, then dropped to the prone beside one of the trees at the top of the hill. The sounds of combat grew fainter as the warrior pursued the wolves deeper into the forest. He remembered the briefing about Mana Stones, how they looked like crystals about the size of a pinky. They could vary in size or width, but not by much. Mana Stones would glow with a blue light and formed in the body of the monster after death.


    Five minutes passed before the forest fell silent. Roberts counted to one hundred before moving down the slope, his rifle at the ready. The battlefield was a mess of broken trees, churned snow, and blood.


    So much blood.


    The first wolf corpse he reached was the one he''d shot. Its chest was a mangled mess of bullet holes and axe wounds. He took a deep breath and laid his rifle muzzle against the corpse¡¯s hindquarters to keep it out of the snow. Pulling out the knife that was strapped to his bullet proof vest, he stabbed it into the wolf''s chest and began the grizzly work of opening up the monster. His hands shook slightly in the cold, and it was a sickening thought to realize that they were growing warm as he searched the recently slain monster.


    Half-buried in the beast¡¯s chest, a crystal the size of his thumb pulsed with soft blue light. He wiped it quickly clean on his pant leg before pocketing it and moving to the next corpse.


    The second one had been nearly cut in half. No bullets, no stone.


    The third wolf, the one slammed against the tree, yielded another stone.


    A distant roar made him freeze. It sounded further away now, but still...


    Roberts gathered two more stones before deciding not to push his luck. As he turned to leave, he felt a pain in his stomach. He saw several blue screens materialize in his vision, through closed eyes and gritted teeth. As the pain in his stomach subsided, his grimace was replaced with a grin.


    His personal, and squad¡¯s, mission accomplished, he began following his squad''s tracks, trying not to think about what else might be hunting in these woods. Or that the human chasing the wolves was probably scarier than the monsters he¡¯d seen so far.


    Jonathan sat with his back against a fallen tree, watching sparks rise from his small fire to meet the falling snow. The rage had burned out of him an hour ago, leaving behind the familiar ache of healing injuries and bone-deep exhaustion. His borrowed winter gear was torn and bloody, though most of the blood wasn''t his.


    The twin moons still hung in the alien sky over the rocks at his back. They cast their mixed light across the now-silent forest. From his sheltered position, he could see the moss pulsing like a heartbeat and the snow continued to fall. He had woken from his {Rage} state during a blizzard, driving him to find shelter between a rock outcropping and a thick layer of tall pine trees.


    He pulled Marcus''s dog tags from beneath his shirt, letting them catch the firelight. The metal was warm against his palm, and for a moment he was struck by how beautiful this place was, despite its dangers.


    Jonathan closed his eyes, letting the memory wash over him.


    The recent memory of gunfire brought him back to the current situation, and he thought about the squad he''d helped earlier. They were just young soldiers that were well-trained but unprepared for what they were facing.


    The military was changing, but too slow. These Rifts didn''t care about traditional training or tactics.


    Jonathan stood with a grunt. He couldn¡¯t believe how great his body felt, despite the exhaustion in his recently healed muscles. He kicked snow over the dying flames and watched them fade to nothing.


    The portal pulled at his gut, but he ignored it. If he didn¡¯t fight what was in those darkened woods, more soldiers would be sent in. More sons and daughters putting their lives on the line, and while he couldn''t save Marcus, he could try to keep other families from getting that knock on their door.


    His greataxe lay against the tree, its blade clean from the snow. A wolf howled in the darkness, then another. And another.

 Chapter 16: The Untethered

    Jonathan wiped sweat from his forehead as he moved through the old ruins. The warm breeze carried the scent of old stone and vegetation. He really disliked the heat and grumbled his complaints quietly under his breath.


    Thick vines wrapped around crumbling pillars, their bright green deceptive at a first glance. He had learned that the leaves could change colors and during the day, they would change to green to entice the creatures of the Rift to eat the leaves.


    He adjusted the tactical vest he¡¯d gotten the previous week. It was another tempting gift from the Hunters Association, and he knew that they were doing the best they could to entice him. They still believed, despite Agent Carter¡¯s insistence, that physical objects could sway him to their side. While Jonathan was happy to take the gifts, particularly since he kept ruining his clothes, he still had no intention of joining their organization.


    He flexed his fingers in the System-awarded leather gloves. The leather was soft on the inside while the fingers and knuckles were somewhat padded. They only had a single enchantment on them, but he¡¯d already been impressed with the Self Repair functionality.


    Thinking about how useful the gloves were made him snort in remembrance of the most recent Rift reward. While Elijah had been excited, Jonathan had been disappointed, hoping for more magically repairing gear. The box of twenty Mana Stones had prompted the most recent round of gifts from Elijah¡¯s higher-ups.


    The ruins opened into what might have once been a courtyard. Broken fountains and toppled statues littered the space. He noted how they could make for natural cover points from the particularly annoying beasts in the Rift. His boots crunched on loose gravel as he moved between the obstacles, checking his corners out of habit.


    Movement caught his eye, and he saw a faint purple glow pulse from behind a fallen column.


    Jonathan¡¯s hand moved to the greataxe on his back, but he held his position. The light was steady and pulsing.


    The vines had turned into bright yellow glowing lights at night, so he wasn¡¯t sure why the light would be purple. It also wasn¡¯t the expected flurry of movement and feathers that he¡¯d seen from the harpies that he was hunting.


    He needed more practice with his new skills, but the unknown threat caused his heart to begin to race. If he needed to activate his {Rage}, then he¡¯d need to wait on the practice since skills weren¡¯t usable while blacked out.


    Circling wide, he used the ruins for cover and made sure to step slowly. Heel to toe movement caused his weight to distribute in a way that the gravel was quieter than his natural gait. As he pied the corner of a massive chunk of fallen masonry, he spotted a group of humans.


    Five people moved through the courtyard with practiced efficiency. Their gear, similar to his own, marked them as Awakened. He could see bladed weapons like those he¡¯d seen in the Hunter¡¯s Association use- like his greataxe. Two of their weapons glowed and one man¡¯s ring gave off an odd light that he recognized as item enchantments. The group worked in pairs and moved around an individual who carried a bag in one hand while picking up glowing crystalline stakes from the ground.


    He recognized the purple glow as what he¡¯d seen from before he found the group. If it weren¡¯t for the small warning, he would have likely run into them on accident.


    Their movements were coordinated, but too loose. They were informally trained, lacking the rigid formation discipline that comes with a ranking superior yelling at lower enlisted until it is a smooth-running machine. At the same time, he could tell they weren¡¯t amateurs. They maintained clear fields of view and proper spacing as they moved around rubble.


    He pulled his greataxe clear of its new scabbard, the hardened leather doing a great job of clipping the broad head into place despite its back placement. The red sheen of its blade caught the sunlight, and he held it ready. The team wasn¡¯t the first set of Awakened he had encountered, but something about their organized movements set him on edge. He wondered if these people were avoiding the government interference at larger Rifts, since he and Elijah had been sent to this one purposefully because it was so secluded.


    The one in the middle crouched to pick up the next marker in line, and Jonathan caught a glimpse of an emblem on his shoulder armor. He had to squint to make it out, but the bright sun made the embossed metal cast a shadow onto the emblem and he could see a broken chain wrapped around a sword.


    The group¡¯s rear guard suddenly stiffened and called out. ¡°Contact, five o¡¯clock, 20 meters.¡±


    Jonathan was already moving as heads snapped in his direction. He kept the axe low but ready, positioning himself so that a fallen pillar partially covered his right side. The Awakened responded smoothly by spreading out to cover different angles while maintaining line of sight.


    ¡°Wait,¡± one of them called out. A woman with short-cropped hair stepped forward with wide eyes. ¡°Holy shit. You¡¯re him, aren¡¯t you? The guy from the Idaho footage?¡±


    Jonathan suppressed a groan. He was still angry at Elijah for not getting others from his organization to keep back media at the Rift in Idaho. As he emerged and the Rift closed, he¡¯d been covered from head to toe in black goo and blood after slaying the boss monster in the Common Rift. Most of the cameras had been on and there was ample footage of him stalking from the giant blue portal as it closed behind him.


    The group stopped at her words and they looked at him with curiosity. Jonathan wanted to avoid fighting humans where possible, so he let them move as they pleased, not feeling very threatened by the presence that the group was giving off. The promise of combat sung to his most recent passive skill, and he forced himself to clamp down on the emotions and remain calm.


    ¡°Ike.¡± One of the men closest to Jonathan called out.


    ¡°On it.¡± A man had somehow gotten high up on one of the nearby pillars.


    In the few seconds that had passed, Jonathan wondered how he could have gotten so high up. The man held a bow and held up a hand in front of his face. His uncovered eye glowed as he activated a skill. Even from his spot on the ground, he could see the man¡¯s skin pale.


    ¡°Boss, he¡¯s¡­ he already has a class.¡±


    A tense silence fell over the courtyard and the only sound that Jonathan could hear was the wind blowing through the vines near his pillar.


    The woman who had recognized him made the first move and stepped forward. Her hands were raised to show they were empty. ¡°I¡¯m Sandra, and we¡¯re part of a group called the Untethered.¡± She gestured to the emblem on her shoulder. ¡°We¡¯re documenting Rifts, mapping them out properly and distributing it to our larger, sister-group to give them information without government interference.¡±


    Jonathan held his position, but lowered the axe slightly. The man on the pillar, who they had called Ike, maintained his vantage point but lowered it to point at the ground. The purple beacons continued to blink steadily in his peripheral vision.


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    ¡°He¡¯s got a Berserker Class,¡± Ike called down. ¡°Never heard of it, but I can guess what it does. Be careful down there, his level is high so his stats have got to be insane.¡±


    Jonathan raised his eyebrow at the public declaration of his class. ¡°How can you see that? The guy I know who can [Analyze] stuff, said I¡¯m too high level to scan.¡±


    Ike shrugged, ¡°Any of the skills that scan items or people are based on Willpower. Yours must be high compared to someone who hasn¡¯t leveled, but I put a lot of points into that stat. It¡¯s my second highest.¡±


    Jonathan looked at the man and noted that with his bow and green cloak, looked like an archer from medieval times. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°So if yours is higher, you can just see my information? What can you see?¡±


    The group seemed more uncomfortable at Jonathan¡¯s casual questioning.


    ¡°Uh,¡± Ike looked at Sandra. When the woman nodded, he answered, ¡°Your name, level, class, Primary and Secondary stats, and your most used skill.¡±


    He couldn¡¯t stop his eyebrows from rising even higher toward his hairline. ¡°That much, huh?¡±


    Sandra¡¯s eyes softened. ¡°Hey, um- look, I know this is going to seem out of left field¡­ I¡¯m sorry about your son. I¡¯m a mother of three, I couldn¡¯t imag-¡±


    ¡°How do you know about that?¡± The friendly and relaxed attitude Jonathan had adopted fell away at the statement.


    ¡°The Untethered,¡± she gestured around at the team, who had tensed at his change in tone. ¡°Our whole purpose is to document as much as we can about Rifts, including what the government tries to keep quiet.¡± Her voice carried genuine sympathy. ¡°They were completely unprepared for those early Rifts. Still are, in many ways.¡±


    Sandra''s eyes lit up, though the sympathy remained. "Listen, we could use someone like you. The government''s keeping things quiet, trying to control who gets access to Rifts and who gets to level up. But we''re building a network for information sharing. These markers?" She pointed at the nearest crystal stake. ¡°They''re part of a mapping system that can record monster spawns, safe zones, everything.¡±


    The man carrying the map stepped forward next to Sandra and handed her a rolled piece of parchment. His armor was a mix of cloth and leather, though the modern construction kneepads ruined the fantasy-ninja effect that he was going for.


    She unrolled the map and held it vertical so Jonathan could see what was on it. He could see detailed illustrations that formed an extremely detailed map. The ruins they stood in were marked on the page and had a small red dot. There were elevation lines and icons clearly depicting more ruins to the west.


    ¡°Enchanted items,¡± the man explained, tapping one of the crystal stakes. ¡°The beacons feed information to the map through a skill our scout developed. We¡¯re documenting everything that the government doesn¡¯t want people to know about.¡±


    Jonathan studied the map and was impressed by the detail. It was far more impressive than the ones that the Hunter¡¯s Association had shown him in briefs before entering any of their Rifts. He could see marked spawn points for the harpies he¡¯d been hunting. The skill had clearly marked their nesting areas, and they had been marked with a warning symbol.


    ¡°Well, they know about this one. I got my information on this Rift from the Hunters Association.¡±


    Sandra rolled up her map and took a half step back. ¡°You¡¯re with them?¡±


    Jonathan chuckled and shook his head. ¡°No. But one of their agents follows me around to report my movements and try to recruit me.¡± He felt a bit bad for describing Elijah in such a way, they¡¯d become a bit closer in the last two weeks. The young agent had loosened up a bit after Jonathan constantly called him out for his professional demeanor or attempts to use his knowledge of body language and psychology to act in a way he thought Jonathan might want.


    ¡°Oh, well- that¡¯s good.¡±


    He could see the greed return to her eyes, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure. Since I¡¯m here,¡± he gestured at the map, ¡°your work has likely gone to waste.¡±


    Ike seemed to pick up on his meaning first and groaned. ¡°He¡¯s going to close the Rift.¡±


    ¡°Can he- can you?¡± the heavily armored man of the group asked, changing his surprise from Ike to Jonathan.


    ¡°I can.¡±


    Sandra stood quietly for a moment before holding out the map. "Here. Consider it a gesture of good faith. We already completed our personal quests here anyway." She reached into a pocket and pulled out a small card, placing it carefully in the rolled parchment. "If you''re gonna close the Rift, we won''t be able to sell this to the Guild anyway. And this..." she tapped where she''d tucked the card, "whether you''re interested in working with us or not, you deserve to know what happened that day. No strings attached."


    Jonathan let the head of his axe fall to the dirt and gravel ground while reaching out with his free hand. ¡°There¡¯s a kid outside with a car. He won¡¯t try to stop you. He¡¯s with me.¡± He did his best to firm his intentions and seriousness around the word.


    Sandra visibly flinched and nodded while raising her hands once more. ¡°No problem, we¡¯re not here to cause issues.¡± With that, their group began to move away, picking up beacons with the same efficient coordination that they had shown before.


    After Jonathan moved away and was certain he hadn¡¯t been followed, he took a knee and opened the map. His land navigation training kicked in as he oriented himself and studied the detailed topography. He noted the general ruin locations and found a good order for him to travel between them, rather than wandering around in different directions.


    Folding the map rather than rolling it, he slid it into one of the larger rear pockets on his vest. As he started to move out once more, Jonathan thought back on the strange encounter. His gut feeling told him that he shouldn¡¯t like or trust the Untethered. He¡¯d spent his life in service to his country and the government; admittedly, he didn¡¯t do it for the government. He did it for the people. While he was certain that the U.S. administration had likely made mistakes, they often weren¡¯t incompetent. There were many smart and skilled individuals to put their heads together to make decisions.


    The only part of Sandra''s pitch that intrigued him was the potential for them to know more about what happened with Marcus. He felt it was a bit too convenient for them to know about his situation.


    Pushing those thoughts aside, Jonathan knew he shouldn¡¯t get distracted in a place like this. He¡¯d have to give it more thought in a safer environment.


    As he walked, he brought up his Status Screen to see what information that archer was able to see on him. While it was still a distraction, it was more idle and would only obstruct a bit of his vision while his mind and thoughts could largely remain on his situational awareness. As he looked, he wondered if he should apply any points to Willpower just to prevent people from being able to get information on him.


    Status


    Name: Jonathan Reeves - Level 12


    Class: Berserker


    HP: 210/210


    MP: 100/100


    Traits: (1/3)


    {Rage}


    Titles: <One Against Many>


    One Against Many


    Physical Stats:


    Strength: 30


    Agility: 20


    Constitution: 21


    Vitality: 21


    Magical Stats:


    Intellect: 11


    Willpower: 13


    Mana: 10


    Wisdom: 11


    Free Points: 2


    Active Skills:


    [Rending Strike] (Novice - Level 6)


    [Raging Breath] (Novice - Level 4)


    Passive Skills:


    [Blood Lust] (Tier I)


    [Pain Resistance] (Tier I)


    If anyone asked him, he¡¯d deny it- but Jonathan had largely been increasing stats that he guessed might work best for how he was fighting and surviving. Many of those decisions were also made off of break points in numbers that were even or at fives.


    It was hard to believe that his Strength was increasing by four points every time he leveled up. On top of that, he gained two points for both Constitution and Vitality. With his Free Points, he was getting 11 points per level. He had two Free Points left over after increasing his Strength to 30 and Agility to 20 after his last level up.


    Back then, he hadn¡¯t been sure where to put them, but with his most recent idea, he decided to bring the Willpower stat up to 15. He wasn¡¯t sure if there was much purpose past not allowing others to scan him, as he didn¡¯t have a desire to use magic, but if that was the only benefit he received, he thought it might still be worth it.


    He remembered the skill that had come with his class and began to practice his [Raging Breath] once again, as it was something he could do while walking.


    The outward breath was explosive and took some concentration from him. As he walked on to the next harpy nest, he brought up the skill descriptions. First was the passive skill he¡¯d gained during his time two weeks prior in the winter dire wolf Rift. Then came active and passive skills that came with his chosen Rare class.


    [Blood Lust] - The Awakened One''s desire for blood and battle allows them to form a Killing Intent and makes it easier for them to enter a state of rage.[Raging Breath] - A specialized breathing technique that allows the Awakened One to maintain stamina and fight for longer periods, even during intense moments of anger or rage.[Pain Resistance] - The Awakened One¡¯s ability to resist pain allows him to continue fighting even when critically injured.

 Chapter 17: Viral

    Jonathan slumped against a blood-stained stone wall. His new tactical vest hung in tatters and the enchanted leather gloves on his hands were slick with harpy blood. Sweat mixed with spattered blood, threatening to drip into his eyes.


    He wiped his forehead with the back of the gloves, which wasn¡¯t very effective. Each of his breaths burned his lungs and came in gasps. He knew that his stamina had improved massively, especially with his [Raging Breath] skill, but if the sun in the sky was any indicator of how long he¡¯d been fighting, it had been for hours.


    It was a frightening thought. If he continued to improve, would he be stuck in a rage longer and longer?


    A blue window appeared in his vision.


    {Rage} has ended. Exhaustion debuff applied.


    He cursed at the window, and it disappeared. He didn¡¯t need the System to tell him that he was exhausted. His muscles trembled, and his throat burned.


    Harpy corpses littered the courtyard. Their broken wings and twisted bodies were evidence of the violence that had just ended. The stench of blood mixed with the ancient smell of the ruins around him.


    Jonathan knew that if he used [Raging Breath], it would help his recovery. Or at least hold off the exhaustion for a while longer, but he wasn¡¯t sure if becoming dependent on it was wise. The temptation was great, especially knowing that the breathing technique would steady his hands and help clear the fog in his mind. But he¡¯d seen what happened to other Rangers who relied too heavily on stimulants in the field. Even though the cost wasn¡¯t so high most of the time, he felt that some prices weren¡¯t worth paying.


    A portal had opened just a few dozen feet away. Its ethereal blue light cast strange shadows on the stones and vines around him. Blood dripped from his arm where a harpy talon found soft flesh and ripped. It was odd to see the wound already healed, leaving only the blood to mark it was ever there.


    The thought of his bed at the temporary housing did a great deal to motivate him to his feet. S~ea??h the N?velFire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    His boots left red prints as they scraped against the ground as he began to walk to the portal. Each step felt heavier than the previous one. After experiencing it so many times, he had come to realize that the exhaustion after {Rage} wasn¡¯t purely physical, it was also mental. It clouded his thoughts and made most of his actions feel sluggish.


    Jonathan stepped through the portal and staggered as freezing November air hit his sweat-soaked clothes. The contrast was jarring; to move from hot ancient ruins to a freezing desolate parking lot behind one of Massachusetts¡¯s abandoned mill buildings. His breath formed clouds in the cold air, and the setting sun cast long shadows between the weathered brick structures.


    "Mr. Reeves!"


    "Look, it¡¯s him! Over here!"


    "Can you tell us about the Rift?"


    The voices hammered at him from all directions. Lifting his arm to partially cover his eyes with his forearm, he tried to count the reporters but gave up after reaching a dozen. News vans had blocked off Canal Street with their satellite dishes pointed skyward against the backdrop of century-old factory windows. There was also a small crowd of locals had gathered behind a hastily erected police barrier. Most of them had their phones raised and pointed in his direction.


    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    Someone had leaked their location.


    The young agent stood between him and the press crowd with his work suit pristine as always. His hands were raised as he tried to keep the reporters back. "Please, everyone step back. Give him space to exit the portal."


    More camera flashes. More shouting. The exhaustion debuff made everything worse and turned the chaos into a blur of noise and movement.


    "Is it true you cleared another Rift alone?"


    "What kind of monsters were inside?"


    "That¡¯s a lot of blood, are you injured? Do we need to get a medical vehicle on site?"


    He walked forward onto the street, keeping his arm raised caused the blood to catch the wind as it gusted against him. The reporters'' eyes locked onto the red droplets. Camera lenses zoomed in.


    Jonathan figured that the next day¡¯s headlines would probably call him a murderer or a monster. He really didn¡¯t like the media and knew that everyone had an agenda to push.


    A woman in a military-style jacket pushed forward. "Patty, The Boston Globe. Your recent solo clears have gotten a lot of attention in the last two weeks. People are calling you the Crimson Warrior. Any comment?"


    ¡°Why do you do it?¡± Another, younger reporter pushed forward. ¡°These solo Rift clears are incredibly dangerous. The Hunter¡¯s Association says the mortality rate is over sixty percent, even for trained teams.¡±


    The first part of the question rang in Jonathan¡¯s mind, easily cutting though his exhaustion.


    The faces of his sons flashed through his mind.


    Elijah stepped forward using his professional voice that grated on Jonathan¡¯s nerves. ¡°The Hunter¡¯s Association values Mr. Reeves¡¯s contribution to public safety. His successes demonstrate the effectiveness of managed and supported Awakened who are led-¡±


    ¡°Is it for the money?¡± Another reporter cut in. ¡°The Mana Stones?¡±


    ¡°No.¡± The word came out before he could stop it. The fog over his mind was making it harder to keep his walls up. ¡°It¡¯s not about the money.¡±


    ¡°Then why risk your life?¡± The young reporter pressed once again. ¡°You¡¯ve cleared more Rifts alone in two weeks than many of the teams we¡¯ve been able to track.¡±


    Elijah took a step back and smiled apologetically at Jonathan. ¡°They want to hear it from you, Mr. Reeves. I can try to keep pushing them off.¡± He stepped forward and said more quietly, ¡°If you don¡¯t give them something, they¡¯re just going to speculate and press you even more.¡±


    Jonathan¡¯s hands were clenched by his side. ¡°For my sons.¡± Surprised, he heard his own voice come through clearly, despite the ache he felt in his chest.


    The crowd grew quiet, and the camera flashes slowed.


    ¡°My oldest, Marcus.¡± There was a hitch in his throat, and his eyes blurred. He coughed into his hand to clear his throat and compose himself. ¡°He was stationed at JBLM and was sent into one of the first Rifts¡­¡± His voice fluctuated again and he couldn¡¯t finish the sentence without cracking fully.


    ¡°And your other son?¡± Someone asked softly.


    What he was trying to hold together cracked within his heart. Knowing that his son was likely up late and studying hard, the image hit him like a hammer. His son was safe there, away from all this. Away from what he was becoming.


    ¡°He¡¯s a pre-med student. Following his mother¡¯s path.¡± His voice wavered again, and he raised his head. ¡°I do this so he never has to face what¡¯s in these Rifts. So no other parent has to bury their child.¡±


    Guilt over his recent, reckless behavior washed over Jonathan, and he felt completely alone as silence fell over the crowd. Two of the reporters had lowered their cameras completely, others watched on through their lenses.


    He realized that he¡¯d grown away from trying to call David and reconnect in the last two weeks. Part of that was from his reckless abandon and desire for revenge. Part of that was to prevent his son from worrying and focusing on the mission before him. The more Rifts he could close, the fewer sons and daughters might be lost.


    Jonathan turned and walked toward the black SUV. His boots had become sticky with the blood as the cold November weather caused it to congeal. As he walked away, the reporters stayed silent and didn¡¯t call after him with more questions.


    Elijah hurried ahead to unlock the doors. The new government vehicle still had the fresh leather smell and Jonathan felt a practical bit of guilt knowing that he was about to get it so dirty. He dropped into the passenger seat, leaving a bloody handprint on the clean interior.


    ¡°Sorry about the seats.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± Elijah said as he slid behind the wheel. He paused before putting it in drive. ¡°That was good back there. Real. I know you didn¡¯t do it for the reasons I¡¯m thinking, but I do think it will do people good to know that you¡¯re here doing this for such a real reason.¡±


    Jonathan leaned his head back and closed his eyes. His chest still felt tight from the admission about David. ¡°Just wake me up when we get back to the hotel. I need to make a call later.¡±

 Chapter 18: Public Figure

    The automatic doors at Flint Bishop International Airport hissed open, the warm indoor air a welcome reprieve from the Michigan winter. Jonathan could smell commercial cleaner and coffee in the air. He followed Elijah inside, catching his reflection in the glass.


    After Jonathan received a particularly bad scar on his chin from one of the harpies, Elijah mentioned that he might want to shave. The scar disrupted the beard''s appearance and made it look patchy. When they got back to the hotel, he had felt a lot of frustration at the fact that despite the wound on his face healing, the hair where his beard had been did not. The missing hair made the beard look comical, and he¡¯d been disappointed to shave. Even days later, seeing his clean-shaven face caught him off guard.


    The man staring back at him looked different in more ways than just his younger face. He was an inch taller and more muscular than he ever remembered being. The clean-shaven face revealed a fresh, pink, and still newly healed scar along his chin.


    The clothes, at least, finally fit properly, thanks to Elijah. His clothes had become increasingly tight as his body adapted to the increasing stats. Jonathan suspected that the new clothes were also the young agent¡¯s attempt to cheer him up. After the reporters'' ambush, he¡¯d felt more and more down on himself for how he¡¯d been handling things with David. As soon as they had returned to the room, he called his son, though it went to voicemail.


    He turned his head to the side before hearing Elijah speak up, ¡°Still getting used to it?¡±


    ¡°Every mirror is a surprise,¡± Jonathan admitted while adjusting the collar of his new shirt. ¡°It¡¯s not as startling anymore, but it just doesn¡¯t look like me.¡±


    Elijah nodded and guided them toward a separate entrance marked ¡®Special Clearance - Awakened Registration Required.¡¯


    ¡°They¡¯ve moved all Awakened screening to a dedicated area. Keeps things more organized, supposedly.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve got to imagine it¡¯s a safety nightmare. How do they even know if you¡¯re Awakened?¡±


    ¡°Apparently, there are people with the ability to scan or analyze others at each major airport checkpoint.¡±


    The new security section occupied a recently renovated wing staffed by TSA agents wearing distinctive blue armbands. Specialized scanning equipment lined the walls, and surveillance cameras tracked every movement, emphasizing the complex task of screening Awakened. A small group of travelers clearly identifiable as Awakened waited in a loose line ahead of them.


    ¡°Identification and clearance papers,¡± The first agent requested when they got to the check point. They kept a professional demeanor despite the unusual process. ¡°Please remove your coat, sir.¡±


    Jonathan shrugged off his jacket and looked down at his arms, which had accumulated numerous scars. The scars on his arms felt much more noticeable than the ones on his chin. During one of his long post-Rift showers, he¡¯d thought about getting tattoos to cover them before realizing that the art would likely be ruined on his very next Rift run.


    As he put his items in the bucket to slide through a scanner, he looked at the others on this side of the check-in. They were presumably Awakened as well, and several sported their own scars or wore clothes that seemed odd compared to modern street clothes¡ªlike robes, armor pieces, or garments made of unfamiliar materials.


    ¡°Arms over your head, please,¡± the second security guard said, waving him through the detector. He stepped through and as he waited for the scan to be complete, she asked, ¡°Any active skills we should be aware of?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Jonathan replied before amending, ¡°Not unless someone tries to start a fight.¡±


    Elijah stepped in smoothly, providing paperwork for them both. ¡°Class designation and clearance forms, along with his current status with the Hunters Association.¡± He easily handled the bureaucratic dance, steering them through the extra security measure with minimal fuss.


    A large screen mounted on the wall displayed scrolling guidelines for Awakened air travel. It would flash things like, ''No mana-charged items allowed,¡¯ ¡®No Active or Passive skill usage during flight,¡¯ or ¡®Maintain designated seating assignments.¡¯


    ¡°Coffee?¡± Elijah suggested as they gathered their belongings. ¡°We¡¯ve got about twenty minutes before boarding.¡±


    Jonathan nodded absently as he watched another Awakened traveler go through the screening process. The whole scene felt surreal, like a scene from a sci-fi movie. He looked back through the checkpoint to the airport entry and saw some regular travelers looking over with curious or uneasy expressions.


    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    New specialty security lines and regulations for super-powered individuals. The world was adapting quickly to its new reality, one societal process at a time.


    ¡°Coffee sounds good,¡± he said, following Elijah toward the terminal. He noted that the Awakened side of the airport had far fewer available terminals. However, it made sense when he realized that only a few dozen people occupied the many rows of seats near each loading area. ¡°Might need it for whatever¡¯s waiting for us in New York. I¡¯m serious when I tell you that I¡¯m not signing anything. I¡¯ll just hear your boss out.¡±


    ¡°I know, don¡¯t worry. It¡¯s been made clear that you are just coming as a guest, and this is specifically being recorded as the Hunters Association asking you for a favor. No one is going to try and twist your arm.¡±


    ¡°Alright¡­¡±


    The small coffee shop in the Awakened terminal was surprisingly well stocked, though Jonathan noticed the barista¡¯s hands trembled slightly as she took their order. He figured she was nervous being around Awakened, especially with all the recent news stories highlighting the dangers they could pose. He pretended not to notice and kept his own movements as casual as possible.


    They found seats near their gate, away from the main crowd but with a clear view of the mounted TVs. Jonathan tested the chair carefully, worried that the plastic seat might not support his weight. The airport furniture wasn¡¯t known for its durability or comfortability even before he had gained thirty more pounds of muscle.


    ¡°At least these are better than the ones in the Portland airport,¡± he said while settling in with his coffee.


    ¡°It¡¯s the little things,¡± Elijah agreed before looking at the nearest screen.


    The news cycled through general morning coverage. They saw another Rift appear in the mid-west, debates about Awakened registration or containment, and some shaky phone footage of various encounters. Then, a familiar scene appeared.


    ¡°The controversial figure known as the ¡®Crimson Warrior¡¯ remains at large,¡± the anchor announced. ¡°though sources suggest he may be cooperating with the authorities, we advise extreme caution when approaching this Awakened individual.¡±


    One of the younger men across the aisle did a double-take, looking between Jonathan and one of the screens mounted over his shoulder. The whispers started almost immediately, and they were close enough that most could be overheard.


    ¡°Wait, is that him?¡± ¡±No way, that guy¡¯s got no beard¡­¡± ¡±Look at the size of him¡­¡±


    ¡°Your media nickname¡¯s catching on,¡± Elijah murmured, hiding a smile behind his coffee cup.


    Jonathan sighed. ¡°Couldn¡¯t they have picked something less dramatic? I¡¯m not some comic book character.¡±


    ¡°You kind of are. Monsters started appearing on Earth, threatening collapse and causing the government to scramble. There have been several Rift breaks across the country already- and here you are, single-handedly closing Rifts without asking for a single thing in return.¡±


    More heads were turning, then. Jonathan saw phones being discreetly pointed in their direction, and he groaned aloud. He kept his eyes on his coffee and thought back to the voicemail he¡¯d left for David. Since his phone had broken several days before, he¡¯d used Elijah¡¯s phone and was hoping to get a call back before they boarded the plane.


    Oblivious to his thoughts, Elijah teased, ¡°The beard really was a good disguise. Though I have to say, you look a lot younger without it. Maybe that¡¯s just the Vitality at work, though?¡±


    ¡°I certainly feel younger.¡± Jonathan stretched out his left leg, appreciating how his hip and knee didn¡¯t ache the same way that they had for the last few years.


    He watched another group of passengers whisper and point in his direction. ¡°You know, after the reporter ambush, I¡¯ve been thinking about what you said- about working with the Hunters Association.¡±


    Elijah perked up but kept his tone casual. ¡°Oh? I was wondering what made you suddenly agree to meet with Director Matthews.¡±


    ¡°If having some official backing means I can prevent more families from going through what we did¡­¡± Jonathan trailed off, then added, ¡°But I need to know who I¡¯m dealing with and what I¡¯m about to walk into in this meeting.¡±


    ¡°Director Matthews is a former military intelligence officer,¡± Elijah said while setting his coffee cup down on the small side table attached to his chair. ¡°He understands operators like you. He¡¯s been pushing for a practical approach to organizing Awakened. He wants to form effective teams and focus on results rather than all the bureaucracy. He¡¯s been your biggest advocate as far as I know.¡±


    ¡°How so?¡±


    ¡°He sees the value in what you¡¯ve been doing and respects your power. While others worry about precedent or public image, the Director wants to support Awakened, who can get the job done and reward them.¡± Elijah checked his watch. ¡°Speaking of which, they¡¯re going to start boarding soon for Dulles.¡±


    They approached the gate where a woman wearing the now-familiar blue arm band stood checking documentation. Her eyes glowed briefly as she scanned each passenger.


    ¡°Final security check,¡± she announced as a small group began to line up to board the flight. ¡°Remember, no active or passive skill use during the flight. Any violation will result in immediate action upon landing.¡±


    It took another ten minutes to board, and Jonathan was pleasantly surprised to find that the entire plane was only going to take roughly seven individuals to Washington, DC. He was even more pleased when he noticed that the seats seemed to have more leg room.


    As the plane began its final preparations for takeoff, Elijah leaned over to say, ¡°You know, I think you¡¯ll appreciate Director Matthews¡¯ approach. He¡¯s been fighting to give Awakened more operational freedom, especially those with combat experience.¡±


    Jonathan gave him a flat look. ¡°You¡¯re doing it again. Stop being a damn salesman. I can tell you respect the man, but you¡¯re not going to bring me over to his cause before I get to look him in the eyes.¡±


    Elijah held up his hands in surrender. ¡°Alright, alright. Last thing though, before we land, there¡¯s something you should know about Deputy Director Sullivan¡­¡± S~ea??h the N?vel?ire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

 Chapter 19: Leadership

    Elijah and Jonathan pulled into the parking garage beneath a glass and steel office building in Crystal City. Looking out of the passenger window, he noted several vehicle types that appeared frequently in the spots and noted a fair number of Teslas. The juxtaposition between the small, sleek, and eco-friendly vehicles being parked across the lot from a Humvee was not lost on him.


    ¡°This is it?¡± he asked Elijah. As the SUV was put into park, Elijah pulled out his phone to check his messages.


    ¡°Temporary headquarters,¡± Elijah confirmed while pocketing his device and opening the door. ¡°They needed somewhere close to DC but¡­ not too close. Some higher-ups are still really nervous about the entire Awakened situation.¡± The security checkpoint inside the lobby told him just how nervous people were.


    He couldn¡¯t help but be impressed at how fast things were adapting. A man in nondescript tactical gear stood beside a young woman in business casual clothes, her eyes glowing with a faint blue light. It was odd to think of military-grade tech meeting supernatural powers, mostly because Jonathan had seen them as two separate worlds.


    Because technology didn¡¯t work within the Rifts, it led to people relying on their own powers and more primitive weapons. He wondered if there could be a skill that might improve the use of modern firearms.


    He made a mental note to ask Elijah about that later.


    ¡°ID and System verification,¡± the operator requested. He was professional, but Jonathan could tell by the way he was gripping his rifle that he was tense. Despite his obvious discomfort, Jonathan was impressed at the man¡¯s trigger discipline and muzzle awareness.


    The woman with the glowing eyes stepped forward. ¡°I¡¯ll need to scan you both.¡± She raised her hands, and he could see her eyes glow brighter for a moment as she looked at him. ¡°Jonathan Reeves, Berserker. Level 12?¡± Her eyes widened as the last statement turned into a question.


    Jonathan stayed still, noticing that the Marine had tensed behind her. ¡°What else does it say?¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s all I can see. I¡¯ve never gotten so little information.¡±


    Elijah stepped up. ¡°We¡¯re here to meet with Director Matthews. Mr. Reeves has received specific permission to be here, and the necessary paperwork should have been prepared before our arrival. Were you not expecting us?¡± sea??h th§× n??el Fire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    A young lieutenant hurried forward, tablet in hand. ¡°Agent Carter? Mr. Reeves? I¡¯m Lieutenant Parker. I¡¯ll be escorting you to Director Matthews.¡± He checked his tablet for a third time, clearly nervous about handling someone of Jonathan¡¯s power level.


    As they rode the elevator, Jonathan watched Crystal City¡¯s morning traffic through the glass wall. Just a few months ago, he realized that this was some random office building in the DC metro area. With the sudden change of events, it now housed an organization dedicated to managing tears in reality and people with superpowers.


    The lieutenant¡¯s tablet chimed again, drawing another anxious glance.


    ¡°Lieutenant? You¡¯re not an agent, like Agent Carter?¡±


    Looking over his shoulder nervously, the man shook his head. ¡°N-no, sir. I¡¯m not sure if I¡¯m going to accept the government¡¯s initiative program. There¡¯s still a lot up in the air about the Hunters Association.¡± After a pause, he added, ¡°No offense meant, Agent Carter.¡±


    Elijah shrugged and grinned at Jonathan.


    ¡°I see. Well, there¡¯s no reason to be so nervous, man.¡± Jonathan gave a pat on the man¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Is this your first time escorting someone who¡¯s Awakened?¡±


    Parker managed a weak smile after the impact with his shoulder, ¡°First time escorting anyone above level 6, sir. I¡¯m just still getting used to all of this.¡±


    Jonathan had the thought just as the elevator chimed and the door opened to barely controlled chaos.


    The entire floor buzzed with activity, and he could see a mix of military personnel in tactical gear and civilians in business attire. Some moved with purpose, while some conversed casually between workstations. As they stepped onto the floor, he could hear conversations about Rift locations and team deployment strategies.


    ¡°Director Matthews¡¯ office is this way,¡± Parker gestured before leading them past a cluster of huddled people. Over the nearest shoulder, Jonathan could see a map of the North East, and he wondered if they were tracking Rifts on the large graphic. Passing the last of the desks, he saw empty energy drink cans and coffee cups.


    They moved into a hallway at the back of the open office space, and the wall to their left made his steps falter. Jonathan looked at the photos.


    The photos were small, no larger than a cellphone screen. Each had a handwritten date on the photo, along with a name. He stopped walking and looked at the wall, wondering if Marcus was up there somewhere, lost in the sea of faces.


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    ¡°Sir?¡± Lieutenant Parker said as he noticed the pause.


    ¡°Just a moment,¡± Elijah said quietly.


    Jonathan looked through the photos for a time, all in the same position as a standard deployment photo. Soldiers in one uniform or another, standing in front of an American flag. Some did their best to look tough, while others smiled. Most of them just looked like children to him and he wondered if he looked that young when he joined. He continued to look and couldn¡¯t find Marcus, even when he found the general date range on the wall that matched his mission timeline.


    For the first time, Jonathan had a shocking realization. He¡¯d been hurt and angered when he lost Marcus. He¡¯d been determined and suicidal when he entered the first Rift. He¡¯d been numb and desperate as he fought for the last week through different Rifts with Elijah¡¯s help. Despite his background in the military, his view of the scenario had been clouded by emotions.


    Seeing the wall of missing or KIAs, Jonathan realized that they were at war. If the photos on the wall didn¡¯t have all those who had died in a month or so since Rifts had arrived, then this was easily the largest loss of American life in generations.


    ¡°Jon,¡± Elijah said.


    He nodded and felt heat rising in his chest as he followed after the young pair.


    Director Matthews¡¯ office turned out to be a hastily converted conference room . There were three screens that dominated one wall, each displaying a different map and different Rift activity metrics. A desk had been pushed to the far end of the room and now sat covered with papers.


    The Director stood as they entered, and Jonathan took in the man. He was dressed in more casual clothes, with cargo pants and a tactical holster on his thigh. He crossed the room and met their small group in the middle, giving Jonathan a firm handshake.


    ¡°Jonathan Reeves,¡± Matthews said while gesturing at a chair. ¡°Thank you for coming. Agent Carter, Lieutenant, that¡¯ll be all.¡±


    After they left, the man gestured to the chair again, ¡°Please, have a seat. Coffee? It¡¯s terrible, but at least it¡¯s hot.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m okay, thanks.¡± Jonathan took the offered seat and noted how Matthews positioned himself to keep the three screens in his view. ¡°Interesting setup you have here.¡±


    ¡°Temporary but functional,¡± Director Matthews replied while taking a sip from his own steaming mug. ¡°We¡¯re adapting as fast as we can, just like everyone else. Though I suspect you¡¯ve seen more actual combat against these things than most of my people combined.¡±


    Even though it wasn¡¯t posed as a question, Jonathan could hear the underlying interest in his tone. He thought about making a snarky comment about actually seeing very little combat since he had a tendency to blackout, but he thought it wouldn¡¯t be the professional response that the Director was looking for in this meeting.


    Matthews turned to one of the screens, tapping a few buttons on a remote. The map disappeared and was replaced by what looked like an organizational chart.


    ¡°Agent Carter¡¯s report said that there were some other Awakened in the last Rift you were in. The Untethered, are you familiar with them?¡±


    Jonathan nodded, ¡°I met them in the Rift. They seem pretty adamant that they¡¯re on the righteous path of freeing oppressed, Awakened people from the government¡¯s thumb. Pretty anti-government and were trying to give me a recruitment pitch.¡± He kept the information about Marcus that Sandra mentioned to himself.


    Director Matthews gave a tired snort. ¡°That sounds like them, alright. I¡¯ll tell you what we know about them. They¡¯ve organized faster than we have in some ways.¡± He made the admission while clicking another button on the remote, and several nodes on the screen were highlighted. ¡°While we were still trying to establish protocols and send researchers out to the Rifts to perform tests, they were already moving. They aren¡¯t bogged down with the same levels of bureaucracy that we are. Even with the ability to declare this a national or global emergency, the administration needs to handle things carefully for fear of rebellion and mass chaos. Frankly, none of us were trained for anything like this.¡±


    Jonathan chuckled and nodded.


    ¡°Honestly, their recruitment pitch is¡­ compelling. Our analysts say that many people of the younger generations will almost assuredly side with the Untethered or at least the various Guilds that are popping up.¡±


    ¡°Guilds?¡±


    He waved dismissively. ¡°It¡¯s some sort of term coined from video games. It just refers to an established group, like a company or organization. There are several small ones, but by far the largest is the Adventurers Guild, which is the backer behind the Untethered. Their message really seems to draw in the people who believe the government to be controlling or an unnecessary step in the hierarchy. Some of the more tamed individuals just want to have the potential to explore this without us stepping in, while others shout from the rooftops that the world is changing and our government is outdated. It¡¯s the latter that makes the administration nervous.¡±


    ¡°Understandably so. The sort of talk that starts riots.¡±


    The director pulled up another screen showing classified documents with timestamps from the first week after Rifts appeared in early October. "We made mistakes early on. Some of the higher-ups made panicked responses after initial losses, which led to more issues. Then, by trying to contain information and get a handle on the sudden appearance of Rifts, it led to deaths that might have been prevented. The Untethered uses these failures in their recruitment."


    Jonathan leaned forward, studying the documents. "These are from Joint Base Lewis-McChord."


    "Yes. We¡ª"


    The door burst open, which cut Director Matthews off mid-sentence.


    A man in an expensive suit strode in, radiating authority and displeasure.


    He noted how the Director¡¯s posture subtly shifted.


    "Director Matthews, I wasn''t aware Mr. Reeves was already here." Sullivan''s tone suggested this was exactly why he''d chosen this moment to interrupt. "I trust you''re discussing the appropriate channels and protocols for Awakened operations?"


    "We''re discussing Untethered''s recent activities," Matthews replied evenly. "Given Mr. Reeves'' experience¡ª"


    "His activities, you mean?" Sullivan cut in, turning to Jonathan. "While your power is impressive, Mr. Reeves, operating outside established protocols puts everyone at risk. We can''t have powerful Awakened acting independently, giving Untethered more ammunition for their propaganda."


    Jonathan felt his temperature rising but kept his voice steady. "With respect, sir, while you were establishing protocols, people were dying. Still are."


    "Which is precisely why we need structure and control," Sullivan insisted. "Director Matthews may believe in a more... flexible approach, but I¡ª"


    A sudden alarm cut through the tension. All three men turned to look at the flashing screens that displayed a nearby Rift.

 Chapter 20: Break Through

    The alarm¡¯s harsh tone filled Director Matthew¡¯s office as the trio of screens flashed red. The far left screen changed as the director walked to his desk and hit a few keys on his keyboard. Data scrolled from top to bottom and Jonathan could barely make any sense of it, the code far beyond his understanding.


    Deputy Director Sullivan stepped forward, getting within a few feet of the central monitor before speaking up. ¡°Downtown,¡± he said. ¡°7th and Madison.¡±


    The screen on the far right changed to a local news station with live video coverage. The camera was already on as the man holding it jumped out of the back of a van and moved quickly through the street full of stopped cars. There were several rear-end collisions, and there was chaos as people ran in different directions, all heading away from the blue floating portal. S~ea??h the N??eFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°I¡¯m mobilizing a response team,¡± Sullivan said with his tablet already in hand. ¡°We¡¯ll follow the proper containment protocols and get this-¡±


    ¡°That¡¯ll take too long,¡± Jonathan said firmly. ¡°That¡¯s only a few miles from here, isn¡¯t it?¡± He nodded toward the central screen, which still showed a graphic of the city map.


    ¡°Oh, no-¡±


    ¡°You¡¯d close it for us?¡± Director Matthews gave his Deputy Director a sharp look.


    ¡°Not for you. For them. They need the help.¡± Jonathan pointed back to the right screen, where people were fleeing the space around the portal. Some people had stopped and were trying to get videos or pictures on their phones, though they were hiding behind cars.


    ¡°Absolutely not.¡± Sullivan¡¯s knuckles turned white as he gripped the back of an office chair with his free hand. ¡°You have already done eno-¡±


    Matthews slammed his hand on the conference desk in the center of the room. ¡°People could die while we debate this.¡± He looked at his counterpart and said, ¡°You wanted PR? Go handle it. News crews are already there. Mr. Reeves has closed more Rifts than any team that we have at our immediate disposal. If he thinks he can do it again, you should be doing everything you can to make a good impression.¡± He raised his voice and shouted to the wall, ¡°Agent Carter.¡±


    As soon as Elijah entered the room, the Director instructed him to take Jonathan to the armory and get whatever was needed to handle the emergency.


    They moved quickly and the Deputy Director''s protests could be heard before they were even fully out of the room.


    Despite looking nervous, Elijah led them through the building and back to the elevator. They went to a basement level that opened up to reveal a warehouse style floor with high ceilings and support beams evenly spaced.


    They moved through the space where others were moving frantically and preparing themselves for the same Rift appearance.


    ¡°We can¡¯t all go at once. I can¡¯t control what I¡¯m fighting when I enter {Rage}. This many people in the Rift at once will likely just get in the way.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll send a message to the Director. He¡¯ll have to make the decision.¡± Elijah answered as they arrived at a thick wall of alternating wire grating and thick plexiglass.


    He stopped as his Axe and shoulder sling were passed through a small window at Elijah¡¯s request. It was a bit of a terrifying thought to realize that he didn¡¯t have any idea how strong he really was. With his Strength skyrocketing during his {Rage} state, he had no idea how much damage he could really do.


    Deciding that he would need to test it out, he grabbed the axe when offered and told Elijah that he didn¡¯t need more armor, just another layer, and to bring something for after the Rift. To his surprise, he was also supplied with a small glass bottle that housed red liquid.


    ¡°What¡¯s this,¡± he asked. As he held the bottle up to the fluorescent lights, the liquid moved around like cough syrup.


    ¡°One of our newer recruits was a chemist before Awakening. They have a trait and skill that let them brew potions, this will help increase your vitality for a time after drinking it.¡±


    ¡°Holy shit.¡± Jonathan said with a laugh, ¡°Is this a health potion?¡±


    Elijah waved his hand. ¡°Nothing so dramatic. It will give you a buff recognized by the System, but it¡¯s nothing that will heal major wounds. Though, the hope is that when he chooses a class through the System, he will get the option of an Alchemist.¡±


    ¡°What a weird conversation,¡± shaking his head, Jonathan handed the bottle back to the young agent.


    ¡°I¡¯ve got nowhere to keep this. Every bag I take gets ruined or lost while blacking out. It would probably break if I tried to keep it on my person, and if I left it somewhere, there¡¯s no telling if I could get back to it if I come out of the {Rage} while hurt.¡± Elijah started to speak, then closed his mouth. ¡°Unless you want to come in with me?¡± Jonathan teased.


    ¡°I think not. But it might be a good idea to have someone tail you from a distance. We don¡¯t have any healers at this branch, but there are a few people with long-range capabilities from being expert marksmen in the military before the integration.¡±


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    Once prepared, they moved to the elevator and went down another floor, rather than up. The entire basement level acted as a parking deck with various kinds of vehicles lined up. They paused and Elijah sent a message to his boss.


    ¡°No healers, really? Wouldn¡¯t that just come from a doctor or nurse awakening or something?¡±


    Elijah nodded absently as he tapped away on the tablet. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s the theory. We¡¯ve offered high rewards for that part of the incentive program, though the System seems to offer traits more based on personality or how the fight goes to Awaken. It¡¯s been hard to get someone to awaken with a decent trait that might assist in that. It¡¯s also a bit more challenging to get a noncombat class to level up, so we haven¡¯t had one of the volunteers reach level ten to see what classes they¡¯re offered. But, we¡¯re close.¡±


    Jonathan nodded, remembering his own class selection options. ¡°Feel like that would be pretty valuable.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a top priority, for sure. This way.¡± Elijah walked toward a vehicle and jumped in the driver¡¯s seat. He grabbed the keys from the console and plugged his cell phone in while pulling up directions. Jonathan put his axe in the back and got into the passenger seat. Without wasting any more time, they pulled onto the ramp and out into the afternoon DC traffic.


    ¡°How much danger are the civilians in? Are monsters going to start coming out? I¡¯ve only fought them inside of the Rift so far.¡±


    ¡°No, there¡¯s almost no risk of a Rift Break this soon after it¡¯s appeared. Breaks only happen when nothing¡¯s been killed inside for a while. That¡¯s where the Cull quests come from. The System seems to want us to prevent the breaks, or the breaks are a punishment for not diving into the Rifts more quickly.¡± He took a sharp left and looked at the vehicle¡¯s GPS display. ¡°Right now, we¡¯re more worried about civilians getting too close or trying to enter unprepared. That could be extremely dangerous without getting there and at least scanning the Rank of the Rift.¡±


    Sirens wailed ahead of them as they approached the intersection. Police cruisers formed a makeshift barrier, though officers struggled to control the crowd. Before they¡¯d left the headquarters building, the feed that they had seen from the news camera showed almost everyone fleeing the Rift. But now, after just a bit of time had passed, Jonathan could clearly see people trying to get past law enforcement and to the blue portal.


    Elijah barely had time to park before Jonathan was out of the SUV and grabbing his greataxe from the back of the vehicle. Scanning the area, he used both hands to adjust the weight of the axe and let it settle into the hardened grooves of the sheath on his back. He noted a few different areas that could make for easy traffic and escape routes, and looked past the police vehicles to see a large number of parked and abandoned vehicles. Some had people standing next to or even on their car to get a better look at the tear in space.


    Elijah was already moving and had his badge out, and Jonathan could appreciate the agent¡¯s sense of competence and professionalism in a situation like this. They walked to the barricade and were stopped by an officer. Elijah quickly intercepted the man and flashed credentials while explaining who they were.


    Jonathan loomed behind the smaller agent, and he could see the relief on the officers face when he explained that they were Awakened from the Hunters Association and were there to close the Rift.


    ¡°That¡¯s great. Please, come in.¡±


    ¡°Keep your men here, Sergeant. We need to keep the street as clear as possible and prevent people from entering and taking any unnecessary risks.¡±


    ¡°Will do.¡±


    ¡°Dad!¡±


    The voice cut through the chaos around them, and Jonathan turned to see David pushing his way through the crowd. An officer moved to stop him, but Jonathan called out. ¡°Wait, let him over here.¡±


    David looked exhausted. It looked to Jonathan like his son hadn¡¯t slept in a long while. His hand trembled slightly as he approached and pulled something from his jacket.


    A crumpled piece of paper.


    Jonathan¡¯s breath caught as he recognized his own handwriting.


    ¡°Found this when I went home,¡± David said quietly. ¡°I saw you in the news and tried calling, but didn¡¯t get an answer. I flew home and you weren''t there, then I saw this¡­¡±


    ¡°My phone¡¯s been broken. I tried to call on another phone. But, David, I-¡±


    ¡°Were you really going to just¡­¡± David¡¯s voice cracked. He gestured at the Rift. ¡°Is that why you keep rushing into these things?¡±


    The noises of the crowd and sirens faded away, and Jonathan saw fear in his son¡¯s eyes. It was the same fear he¡¯d seen from him when Emma was sick.


    ¡°I thought¡­¡± Jonathan started, then stopped himself. The practiced excuses felt hollow, and he¡¯d been making progress in his own feelings in the last several days. ¡°I didn¡¯t think¡­¡± The words fell away, and he didn¡¯t know how to express his feelings.


    ¡°You¡¯re all I have left,¡± David said. His voice was stronger as anger mixing with the fear. ¡°And you were just going to¡­¡± He clenched the note tighter in his hand.


    The Rift pulsed in the distance, and Elijah took a half step toward the pair before moving away to talk with the nearby officers.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he said and knew that the words were inadequate. ¡°I¡¯ve been¡­ lost.¡± He looked at his son- really looked at him. Not the kid who¡¯d rejected the military but the man who¡¯d chosen his own way despite the pressures he¡¯d faced. The man who¡¯d chosen to be there, to close the gap between them. ¡°I¡¯ve been lost for a while now, son.¡±


    They stood in silence for several moments, staring at each other. Neither of them was quite sure what to say. Elijah called from a short distance away, shaking them from the intense moment of feelings.


    David nodded and rushed to his father to give him a hug. ¡°Just- promise me you¡¯ll come back out.¡±


    Jonathan gripped David¡¯s shoulders as they separated. He looked down at his son and felt tears sting his eyes as he nodded, ¡°I¡¯ll come back.¡± He turned toward the Rift, ¡°Elijah, this is my son. Watch out for him while I¡¯m in there, would you?¡±


    Elijah nodded, and his sense of professional urgency softened as he gave David a smile.


    Jonathan stepped off toward the Rift and as he passed by Elijah, the younger man gave him final parting words. He scanned the Rift and told him that it was a Common E Rank Rift and that they would be sending in two men to follow after Jonathan to collect Mana Stones and bring him a potion if needed.


    The berserker rested a hand on Elijah¡¯s shoulder. ¡°Thank you, Elijah. Look after my son. I¡¯ll be back in a bit, and we can talk about a future where I can help the Hunters Association.¡± He could feel the familiar pull of rage simmering at the base of his stomach. But, for the first time since Marcus had died, something else burned there next to the rage.


    The Hunters Association could give him structure and resources- a way to fight without losing himself. He¡¯d seen the wall of photos and personally felt the weight of that loss. He felt that his experience and specific skills could help prevent more faces from being added to that collection. More than that, his son needed him.


    Jonathan walked forward toward the Rift and unslung his greataxe just before the now-familiar sensation of weightlessness took over his body.

 Chapter 21: Team Dynamics

    Jonathan stretched out his tired muscles and allowed his shoulders to rest against the row of bleachers behind him. The large training facility had a number of fans running and the mostly brick or cement building took him back to old memories of playing basketball in a gymnasium as kid. The walls glowed a gentle blue light at several points, indicating the enchantments that had been placed on them.


    His greataxe lay across his knees, and the weapon¡¯s weight felt familiar and comforting in a way. He stretched his arms behind his head and interlocked his fingers before closing his eyes. Tuning out the noise of the other Hunters Association members in the training facility, he focused on the fight from four days before.


    He¡¯d been distracted with thoughts of David and rushed to finish the Rift to get back to him. Despite his haste, something had been different about those fights. The rage had still come as it always did, but he¡¯d maintained awareness longer than usual.


    Jonathan acknowledged that his will to resist the blackout had been at an all-time high during that first fight in the Rift. Eventually, he had succumbed to the red mist that covered his vision, but he had lasted noticeably longer than prior engagements.


    He¡¯d leveled once and had a sneaking suspicion that one of his earlier thoughts about the System stats was true. His Willpower had increased greatly from the title and his recently distributed points. Just based on the stats¡¯ names, Jonathan was suspicious if there wasn¡¯t more to the ¡°magical¡± stats. The names of those stats had normal meanings in the English language, regardless of how the System defined the terms. Intellect had to do with someone¡¯s ability to learn and generally how smart they were; it made sense then that Willpower might help him form some mental fortitude. He¡¯d put all three of his points into Willpower, and the very next fight, he felt that there was once again an increase in his ability to push back against losing consciousness.


    While closing the Rift, he leveled once more and allocated those points to Willpower as well. Despite the six-point increase, he felt that he was still a ways away from seeing enough of a change to resist the pull of his {Rage} trait.


    Jonathan smiled to himself as he thought of David back in their hotel room. His son had been cramming for his last midterm when he left. There were textbooks and notes spread across the small desk as if a small explosive had gone off.


    The two of them had spent the last few days talking- really talking, for the first time in years. David had explained how his professors had been understanding of his ¡®family emergency¡¯ though he¡¯d need to head back to Columbia soon for his exams as they wouldn¡¯t excuse him from it entirely.


    It felt strange, in a good way, to have his son close again. They¡¯d ordered takeout and watched a terrible action movie together. Even though they carefully navigated the conversations about Emma and Marcus, it felt like they were taking a step in the right direction. David had even asked about some of Jonathan¡¯s Rift encounters and how it felt to be an Awakened.


    He had shown a genuine interest in the dangerous life change rather than the judgment that Jonathan had feared. He had subtly hinted at a personal interest as well, and where Jonathan had felt an initial desire to steer his son away from the path of awakening, he stayed quiet instead. His attempts to force David down a career path had been what caused their conflict to begin with, he wouldn¡¯t start their relationship back off once more with the same mistake.


    His son continued to study in the room as Jonathan met his new team for the first time and went through benefit negotiations with Director Matthews on compensation for Jonathan¡¯s services. The Hunters Association valued him highly. They wanted to capitalize on his ability to close Rifts and his rising social status as a public figure. Jonathan refused to embrace the Crimson Warrior persona that the media was trying to stick to him. Still, he was happy to receive monetary compensation, housing, and a benefits package, even if it wasn¡¯t his goal in closing the Rifts.


    The memory of David¡¯s face and that crumpled suicide note had served as a powerful reminder during each fight in the last Rift. It had fueled his determination to resist the loss of control and rage. He felt a fierce guilt at the pain and distress he¡¯d caused David and felt that they served as a reminder and a chance for him to rebuild what he¡¯d almost thrown away.


    He pulled up his Status Window, noting how strange it was that even with his eyes closed, he could see the blue floating screens in his vision. Jonathan reviewed his recent gains and the changes to his stats.


    Status


    Name: Jonathan Reeves - Level 14


    Class: Berserker


    HP: 250/250


    MP: 100/100


    Traits: (1/3)


    {Rage}


    Titles: <One Against Many>


    One Against Many


    Physical Stats:


    Strength: 38


    Agility: 20


    Constitution: 25


    Vitality: 25


    Magical Stats:


    Intellect: 11


    Willpower: 19


    Mana: 10


    Wisdom: 11


    Active Skills:


    [Rending Strike] (Novice - Level 8)


    [Raging Breath] (Novice - Level 7)


    Passive Skills:


    [Blood Lust] (Tier I)


    [Pain Resistance] (Tier I)


    He felt pleased with himself to note the increase in his skill levels. [Rending Strike] had been progressing slowly because he was unable to use it in his unconscious state; but, by pushing back against the {Rage}, he was able to use the skill at least twice each fight. He had been surprised to see the rapid progress of [Raging Breath], but after rereading the skills description, he could only assume that the last part referred to an ability to use the skill while enraged.


    [Raging Breath] - A specialized breathing technique that allows the Awakened One to maintain stamina and fight for longer periods, even during intense moments of anger or rage.


    ¡°-and that¡¯s why we need to establish clear engagement protocols for civilian-adjacent rifts,¡± Dr. Bill¡¯s voice cut through Jonathan¡¯s relaxation. He cracked an eye and looked over at the researcher, who was gesturing animatedly at a flat-screen mounted to the wall. The man¡¯s wire-rimmed glasses slid down his nose as his head went between the others and the screen, ¡°The statistical models clearly show-¡±


    ¡°Bill,¡± Captain Hayes interrupted, her tactical vest making a creaking noise as nylon pulled tight around the Kevlar beneath. ¡°We can¡¯t wait for perfect data when there are lives at stake.¡±


    ¡°Bah! They won¡¯t be in danger if the Rift is quarantined. The only danger for at least two weeks is people entering without any sort of supervision.¡±


    Jonathan suppressed a sigh. They had hashed and rehashed arguments along the same lines repeatedly. He¡¯d been worried about things like this when they formed a team of thinkers and doers. Both Captain Hayes and Yates could hold their own in a fight, he had no doubt. But Bill Turner was a through and through.


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    That specific debate had been going on for almost an hour. They were debating proper procedures while the training dummy they were supposed to be focusing on stood untouched in the center of the room. Its enchanted core pulsed with a dull blue light, waiting to be activated.


    Jimmy Yates caught Jonathan¡¯s eye from across the large space and gave a slight eye roll. At least they understood each other. Yates came from a similar background as Jonathan, with more than ten years of his career spent as a Navy Seal. He¡¯d been the Hunters Association¡¯s highest leveled fighter before Jonathan arrived.


    The training facility¡¯s door opened with a sharp click, and Deputy Director Sullivan strode in. His polished shoes echoed on the concrete floor that lined the outside of the room and surrounded the central mat-covered area. Jonathan noted a small wooden box was tucked under his arm, and the way the man walked with his hands clasped behind his back and nose in the air made Jonathan want to ignore him.


    ¡°Good morning team.¡± Sullivan¡¯s voice carried the forced cheerfulness of someone delivering unwelcome news. ¡°I hope training is going well?¡±


    Hayes straightened and shot Bill a look that clearly meant, ¡®We¡¯ll continue this later.¡¯ ¡°Just reviewing protocols, sir.¡±


    ¡°Excellent. Just what I like to hear,¡± he said. ¡°How has your investigation been going, Captain Hayes?¡±


    ¡°Slow, sir. I¡¯m waiting to hear back from our informant. The fact that we haven¡¯t heard anything for more than a week is troubling. I¡¯ll compile a report for you and Director Matthews as soon as I hear something.¡±


    ¡°Yes, yes. Good, if you need anything, let me know.¡± Director Sullivan¡¯s gaze fell on Jonathan. Displeasure was written across his face. ¡°Mr. Reeves, a moment of your time?¡±


    Jonathan set his axe aside and stood while noting how the deputy director tucked in his chin as he approached.


    ¡°You¡¯re not training with your new team, Mr. Reeves?¡± He asked before glancing at where his greataxe lay.


    ¡°They¡¯re not training right now. They¡¯re talking in circles.¡± Jonathan answered evenly.


    ¡°We were not-¡± Dr. Turner was interrupted as Sullivan raised his hand.


    ¡°That¡¯s quite alright. I would just encourage you to participate with your team. Especially in the proper protocols and regulations involved in Rifts. In the meantime,¡± he pulled out the wooden box from under his arm, ¡°this is a requirement for your continued involvement with the Association.¡± Inside, nestled in blue velvet, lay a bracelet of obsidian beads, each carved with tiny silver runes.


    Jonathan raised an eyebrow, ¡°What is it?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s an emotional dampener. Custom made by one of our best enchanters to help you maintain a calmer state of mind.¡± Sullivan¡¯s smile didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°You¡¯ll wear it at all times outside of the Rifts.¡±


    Jonathan felt his eyebrows descend along with the corners of his mouth. He realized that this man, or the people behind him, were scared of him.


    He felt the rage bubble up in his chest before squashing it.


    Reaching forward, he lifted the bracelet from the case and looked at it closely. The small runes pulsed against the black surface. Jonathan put the bracelet in his pocket. ¡°No,¡± he said, surprised that his voice came out so calm.


    Sullivan blinked. ¡°I don¡¯t think you understand. This enchanted item will help maintain safety for your team and keep your emotional stability in check.¡±


    ¡°I understand perfectly.¡± Jonathan gestured at the training dummy in frustration. ¡°You want to turn me into a tool. To put a leash on me because you¡¯re scared. But I¡¯m not here to be controlled, Assistant Director. I¡¯m here to help people. I¡¯ll use the bracelet and make sure that I don¡¯t endanger my team, but I won¡¯t be forced to wear something that will dampen my emotions at all times outside of a Rift.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t a request. Either you wear the dampener, or-¡±


    ¡°Or what? I''ll go back to closing Rifts on my own? Saving lives without your permission?" He let out a short laugh. "You know what''s funny? Just standing here, having this conversation with , is making me angry. But I''m controlling it. On my own.¡±


    ¡°Director,¡± Hayes said while stepping forward. ¡°Is this really necessary? Mr. Reeves has already demonstrated that he can be part of the team and, outside of a combat scenario, has no issues controlling his emotions.¡±


    ¡°The Association needs to present a strong and reliable front.¡±


    ¡°No, the Association needs people who can get the job done. I¡¯m willing to work with a team. I¡¯m willing to follow reasonable protocols. But I won¡¯t wear your magical leash because you¡¯re uncomfortable with how strong I am.¡± Jonathan strode to his axe and slung it over his shoulder, ¡°Your choice, Deputy Director. Do you want my help, or do you want to explain to your boss why you drove away your most experienced Rift fighter?¡±


    The silence stretched for several seconds before Sullivan''s jaw clenched. Without another word, he snapped the box shut and turned on his heel, striding out of the training facility.


    "Well, shit," Yates said into the silence with a thick country drawl, "that was interestin¡¯."


    Jonathan played off his frustration by chuckling. He pulled the bracelet from his pocket and clipped it around his wrist. It felt like a warm, weighted blanket pressed down over his entire body.


    ¡°Wait, you¡¯re going to wear it?¡± Hayes asked, with her face a picture of confusion. ¡°Why all of that posturing then?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m not opposed to wearing it, at least while we spar.¡± Jonathan shrugged, looking at himself through an internal lens. The nervousness, frustration, and even excitement he¡¯d been feeling moments before were gone entirely. ¡°I¡¯m not going to be told that I have to, though. If I start to give up my personal liberties like that, they¡¯ll have me living in a cell within a week.¡±


    Hayes nodded. ¡°Alright, well, it probably can¡¯t hurt, but I¡¯d be careful about using that thing too much. The enchanters are pretty new at all of this. They pretty regularly have to come to fix or adjust things in the large enchantment in this room, and this was the most complicated thing I¡¯ve ever seen. I imagine Sullivan invested a lot to get them the right runes to make a bracelet like that.¡±


    ¡°You two seem to get along easily. Why is that?¡±


    ¡°I also enjoy protocol and paperwork. I like it when things are done by the book; I¡¯m just not as rude about it.¡± Hayes shrugged and smiled.


    Jonathan chuckled. He gave the axe a few experimental swings and found that the bracelet was truly unique. He initially felt like his mind was tired or filled with fog, but that wasn¡¯t the right way to describe it. His thoughts came clear and crisp; there just wasn¡¯t any guiding motivation to them.


    ¡°Should we actually try a few spars now?¡± He asked.


    ¡°This is gonna hurt, ain¡¯t it?¡± Yates asked Dr. Turner. ¡°Captain, you and the Doc can go first. I¡¯ll go kick on the enchantments.¡±


    Bill Turner let out a strangled groan as he grabbed his staff from the floor nearby. ¡°I really hate sparing. Can¡¯t we just talk about positioning some more or what to do if-¡±


    ¡°This is good for you, Doc,¡± Jimmy said as he walked over to the wall where there were two different pads connected to enchantments. ¡°You don¡¯t think the government invested all those hours and cash into building such a fancy training room just to talk theory.¡±


    Hayes grabbed her weapon and joined Bill taking positions opposite the mats from Jonathan. Within moments, a blue dome spread over the area, and the captain called for the match to begin.


    ¡°This¡¯ll be good,¡± Jimmy called as he perched on the bottom row of bleachers. ¡°Y¡¯all bout to learn how he got his title.¡±


    Jonathan rolled his shoulders and could feel the cold stones of the dampener on his wrist. He didn¡¯t feel the tension or excitement that normally came with fights and there wasn¡¯t even a whisper of rage.


    Bill¡¯s staff hummed as a blue mist began to coalesce around the top in a swirl. The small orb of blue energy compressed, and the man¡¯s face strained as the magical item continued to pull on his mana. The ball condensed and lit into flames like a propane grill that¡¯s been leaking gas. The ball of fire hovered in place, and Jonathan knew that the slight man could launch it with a simple thought.


    Captain Hayes moved first, her spear a blur as she tested Jonathan¡¯s defenses. She used quick thrusts and darting movements.


    He parried with the flat of his axe and consciously pulled back his strength. His counter was slow as he tried to find what was appropriate, as he didn¡¯t want to practice with his full stats. The point of the match was to learn and improve, not to overpower.


    "You can hit harder than that," Hayes said, her {Tactical Sight} clearly showing her the restraint in his movements.


    A fireball whizzed past Jonathan''s ear as Bill found his range. The researcher was already channeling another, his hands steady despite his obvious nervousness. S§×ar?h the N?vel(F)ire.n§×t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    "Doc''s got decent aim," Yates called out. "Might actually singe them eyebrows if you ain''t careful, Jon."


    Jonathan weaved between Hayes'' spear and Bill¡¯s small fireballs. He let himself adjust to the dampener''s effects. The rage that usually simmered beneath the surface felt distant and manageable. He could think clearly about each movement and attack, though he had to wonder at the effectiveness of such training. The {Rage} wouldn¡¯t let him make such conscious defensive decisions.


    Hayes pressed forward, her spear work precise and calculated. "Bill, target his left side when I¡ª"


    Jonathan saw the strategy forming but let it play out. Hayes feinted right, and Turner''s fireball forced him to step directly into her spear''s true path. The blow connected with his shoulder, though the enchantment on the mats dulled it. Rather than slicing his muscles open, it felt like he¡¯d been punched in the arm.


    "First blood to the captain," Yates chuckled. "Though I reckon that''s cause our boy''s wearin'' his shiny new toy."


    "Good coordination," Jonathan admitted, dropping his defensive stance. "But let''s see how it holds up when I push back a little harder."


    Hayes grinned, readying her spear. "That''s what we''re here for."

 Chapter 22: Training Recruits

    Jonathan slid the dampening bracelet over his knuckles and felt the weight of his dampened emotions settle on him.


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    He used his shoulder to press into the briefing room, careful not to spill any of his precious coffee. Captain Hayes was already standing on the far side of the table, arranging various printouts and larger satellite photos on its surface.


    ¡°Morning, Hayes.¡± He said, pausing until she gestured which seat he should take. ¡°Quite the early call.¡±


    ¡°Morning, Jon. Yeah, I finally got word from my informant last night. Director Matthews was briefed, and a team was sent out last night to pick up our informant and a VIP target they¡¯d been working with.¡±


    He raised an eyebrow and thought about asking why their team wasn¡¯t sent, especially since she was the informant¡¯s handler. Knowing that it would be briefed in the next few minutes, he just settled in and took a sip of his coffee.


    Being one of the first to arrive, he waited some time before other senior agents filed in and took seats around the polished oak table. Sullivan sat halfway down the table with his thin-framed glasses perched on his nose. The usual murmur of pre-brief conversation was notably absent as the tension in the air was thick.


    Director Matthews was the last to enter, and Jonathan could see dark circles under the man''s red eyes. ¡°Let¡¯s begin.¡±


    Hayes lifted the remote in her hand and pointed it at the screen, jumping forward a slide. A satellite photo showed a mountain clearing with a small tag at the top labeling it as Montana. The next slide zoomed in and showed a glowing pale blue portal.


    ¡°Late last night, our informant within the Untethered had their cover blown while attempting to investigate this Rift. Two days ago, Emma Daughtry approached our agent and told them that she had been trapped in this Rift for the last four weeks.¡±


    She went to the next slide, and a sketch appeared. There were clean and detailed pencil lines showing a circular structure with elevated areas surrounding it. ¡°Ms. Daughtry provided the descriptions to make these drawings and a comprehensive statement about the Untethered¡¯s recruitment and brutal training program.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s their operational scope?¡± Sullivan asked, setting down his report and making several notes on a pad of paper.


    Hayes moved the presentation forward. ¡°It¡¯s hard to tell, but we suspect that they are recruiting through the Nexus Hub and directly reaching out to those who might seem desperate to get information on awakening. They target young adults with promises of ¡®elite training and a guaranteed opportunity to awaken.¡¯ But once inside¡­¡± She paused and brought up another slide of hand drawn diagrams. ¡°The conditions and expectations set are brutal. Recruits are thrown into a pit, or arena, as Emma said that they called it. At the same time, they¡¯re told to survive, and a monster is let loose. The first round is one-on-one combat, and the recruit is given a spear and nothing else. During this fight, no one is allowed to leave or quit, though if someone is too traumatized or wants to quit after they¡¯ve survived their fight, then the Untethered will let them return home.¡±


    ¡°How have we not heard of this before now, then?¡± A man to Jonathan¡¯s left asked.


    ¡°Because, they don¡¯t actually ever leave the Rift. Emma and a few others began to get suspicious, especially when they weren¡¯t allowed to even take a break and leave the compound from within the Rift. At first, they were mollified by the response that it wasn¡¯t safe without an escort, but after several attempts to get an escort or leave the Rift, she started to notice that others were getting more special attention. Those who were enjoying the fighting or embracing the Untethered would start to get more focus and be separated into a different group than those who were more wary or scarred from the events. The Untethered called the groups graduates, and those who had not graduated were called recruits. Emma described the area where recruits were kept as a prison or jail, with metal-barred rooms. She said that they weren¡¯t locked into the rooms, and any complaints were denied and told to think of it as a boot camp. Graduates would move into a separate area with actual rooms and furniture, but she didn¡¯t have too much information on that.¡±


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    ¡°Cutting to the chase,¡± Director Matthews said. ¡°They are killing any of the youths that want to leave. So, while everyone may enter of their own free will, they¡¯re being sold on something like superhero hopes and dreams and instead being thrown into a survival situation¡­ one that, even if they survive the monsters, they might not see their way home. We¡¯ve sat on the Untethered too long, they were smart in using the Rift as a controlled choke point. It made it hard for us to get reliable information or reconnaissance on them. Now we¡¯ve got more than enough justification to send in a team and shut them down. Captain Hayes, please continue.¡±


    She nodded, ¡°With our informant''s cover blown, we need a team to act quickly before the Untethered can scatter from the Rift or burn the operations and potentially injure more of the kids within.¡± She progressed to a slide that had several photos of two men meeting. Jonathan noted the long, white-blonde hair of one man whose dress and jewelry spoke of wealth.


    ¡°This man is Richard Mack. We¡¯ve pinned him as the leader of the Untethered and believe that he largely keeps his hands out of the Rift portion of the group, though his regular meetings with teams who have been seen going in and out of the Rift make us assume he¡¯s complicit. In these photos, we see him meeting with Rylan Voss. Rylan is the brother of a high-ranking member of the private organization known as The Adventurers Guild.¡±


    Jonathan noticed several people lean forward and take notes on this statement.


    ¡°We¡¯ve suspected the Untethered of having connections to the Guild for some time now, and this might be the lead we need to follow to make those connections. So far, the Guild has been avoiding doing anything to clash with the Hunters Association or to blatantly recruit individuals. They paint themselves as a group of people who want to grow in power ¡®out from under the government¡¯s umbrella¡¯ and have statements everywhere that what they¡¯re doing is for the good of the people. As you can see, their message aligns closely with the Untethered¡¯s, just not quite as radical. While Rylan himself doesn¡¯t seem to have a high standing in the Adventurers Guild, our scout wasn¡¯t able to get a [Scan] on him, meaning he must be quite strong.¡±


    A few glances were sent toward Jonathan.


    ¡°As the Director stated, time is crucial here, which is why we¡¯ve called this meeting. You are the board members of the Hunters Association. While the Director can make a direct decision- he acknowledges that this is a big one. To make such an open and direct move against other humans will be making a statement to the world. It¡¯s one thing to fight against monsters and push back the Rifts, but these are other humans, other Americans.¡±


    There was a murmuring among those at the table and several uncertain glances were passed around. The conversation that followed was clipped and quite heated, with almost everyone agreeing that a move should be made as soon as possible before losing their lead and endangering more of the young Awakened within. Once a decision was made, Director Matthews gave a nod to Hayes before leaving the briefing.


    ¡°Here are the details we have and the operational plan that was discussed last night. There are currently estimated to be around 40 ¡®recruits¡¯ trapped in the Rift. Emma made it clear that at least ten of these would likely be teens who have graduated from the training program and would be willing to fight against any sort of government interference. There have been scouts sent to the Rift since our informant''s report, and we have confirmed that the Rift is Uncommon Rarity, which means that there is a time-stretching effect that¡¯s applied to those within. My team will lead the assault with two backups. One of the reserve teams will secure and hold the position outside of the rift, where the second will enter and hold the exit while my team pushes to the Untethered base. Our focus will be releasing the teens and gathering any available intelligence. Full authority has been given by the Director to take out targets as needed.¡±


    ¡°What kind of resistance should we expect?¡± Jonathan asked, speaking up for the first time since the meeting started.


    ¡°Ms. Daughtry reported monsters between levels 2-15. The Rift is a swamp biome, and the monsters that are captured for the arena fighting are a wide variety of types. But, there is a separate holding area for what she called ¡®graduation matches.¡¯ We don¡¯t have details on those.¡±


    Sullivan adjusted his glasses, ¡°And if your team encounters Richard or Rylan Voss?¡±


    ¡°Primary objective remains civilian extraction,¡± Hayes said firmly. ¡°We engage only if necessary to complete the mission. That said¡­¡± She glanced at Jonathan. ¡°We¡¯re taking our strongest team for a reason. We expect to run into resistance.¡±


    ¡°Good, these people need to be stopped.¡±


    Jonathan nodded his head toward Sullivan as they made eye contact.


    One of the other board members spoke up once more, ¡°So with the time dilation. Every hour we spend here, two hours pass within the Rift? If our informant had their cover blown, won¡¯t then they be waiting for you inside?¡±


    ¡°Potentially. Or they¡¯ll be scrambling to cover their tracks and evacuate, which is why we need to move quickly. While the Untethered are all Awakened, they¡¯ve been avoiding direct confrontation with us because we have such a wider reach and much deeper pockets. They clearly want to build their strength, or they wouldn¡¯t be using such drastic methods.¡±


    There was a murmur of an agreement, and the talks ended quickly. Captain Hayes fielded a few final questions from those who stayed behind and Sullivan left while tapping on his tablet.


    ¡°Gear up. We move in two hours.¡± She said to Jonathan, who was studying the printed copies of the arena¡¯s layout.

 Chapter 23: Entry

    The rhythmic of the helicopter blades cut through Montana¡¯s December air, and each beat reminded Jonathan of an old life. While it had been hard for him to adjust to civilian life as a teacher, he felt a lot of satisfaction in helping teach and nurture a younger generation. Now, he found himself back in the thick of things.


    It was mid afternoon and the helicopter ride had been a couple of hours long. Despite the cold weather outside, the heaters worked over time as they pulled heat from around the engine and pumped it into the small chopper cabin causing sweat to bead on his forehead.


    ¡°Five minutes to touch down,¡± Captain Hayes¡¯s voice crackled through their comms. She sat across from him. It was odd to see the wooden spear shaft next to her rather than a range of possible firearms. ¡°Jon, are you still planning to wear the dampener?¡¯


    Jonathan nodded before clicking the button to activate his own headset. ¡°Yes, we shouldn¡¯t need the {Rage} kind of power in a mission like this unless things go really wrong. I¡¯d feel better knowing it¡¯s locked up tight rather than risk something.¡±


    She nodded. ¡°Just got word that the other teams are in position and waiting for us. They¡¯re just some national guardsmen pulled from a nearby station. None of them are Awakened, but we¡¯ve got another chopper behind us that will join them and help as needed. Both B and C-Team will set up at the Rift entrance before we¡¯re there, and B-Team will enter with us and hold the inner side of the portal.¡± She pulled out her tablet from her pack and handed it to Bill. ¡°Emma¡¯s directions to the exact location of the compound were a bit hazy. She said that the escape from the Rift was hectic, and recalling it backward to form directions was a lot for her. From what she could tell, the Untethered Camp and the Arena were the only two developed areas within the Rift, so it shouldn¡¯t be that challenging to find.¡±


    The helicopter banked slightly, and Jonathan caught a glimpse of the Rift through the window. Even after seeing so many of them with his eyes at that point, it still seemed surreal.


    ¡°Alright, gents. Keep your heads on a swivel and listen for my calls. We locate their base, gather intel on their operation, save the kids, and get out.¡±


    There were nods from around the helicopter cabin. The mission was clearly not meant to be an attack against the Untethered¡¯s foundation as a group. It was to save lives and if that led to the justification needed to lead a larger scale assault later, then that was just icing on the cake.


    The chopper began its descent, the pilot finding a natural clearing near the Rift entrance. As they dropped through the low layer of fog, Jonathan felt the familiar pre-mission tension settle into his muscles. He found it interesting to note that despite his experience, those pre-mission jitters never went away.


    He clasped the bracelet around his wrist and felt all of his feelings become suppressed. It was one thing to note his general emotions and feelings were muted in a relaxed scenario. Now that he was about to step into real combat, he realized he might be putting himself in more danger by suppressing things like his fear or desire to fight for life.


    Especially knowing he should have feelings about¡­ losing his feelings, but those, too, were suppressed.


    ¡°Ground team, you¡¯re clear for departure,¡± the pilot¡¯s voice came through their headsets as the helicopter settled onto the frosted ground.


    Jimmy was first out, bow already in hand as he established a perimeter. The Rift was forty meters to the east, so he positioned himself to the west, protecting the distant approach. Dr. Turner followed, his staff already gathering mana at its tip.


    The fog had thinned at ground level, but it still clung to the surrounding mountains like a shroud.


    ¡°Rift¡¯s about half a click east,¡± Hayes said as she and Jonathan departed the bird. ¡°B-Team¡¯s in position and has established a defensive perimeter around the entrance. Let¡¯s go link up and hear if there have been any updates.¡±


    When they reached the national guard team, Jonathan noted how on edge all of them seemed to be.


    Captain Hayes met up with their Platoon Sergeant and learned that things had been quiet since they arrived. No one had tried to exit the Rift, and they were waiting for the Hunter Association team to arrive before entering. As they talked, Yates leaned over to say to Jonathan, ¡°It ain¡¯t natural, that¡¯s for sure.¡±


    ¡°The Rift?¡± After receiving a nod, Jonathan had to agree. The air seemed to hold a strange otherworldly energy this close to the portal that made the hair on his arms stand on end.


    Hayes called them forward, and they began closing the last few meters to the Rift. ¡°Standard entry protocol. Just like how we¡¯ve been practicing the last two weeks. Turner and Yates, you¡¯re in the rear. Jon, you¡¯re up front. I¡¯ll float, but watch our flanks and move up to assist as needed.¡± She tapped her earpiece, ¡°B-Team, we¡¯re proceeding with entry. Follow us in and hold your position to secure the exit. All comms will go dark once we¡¯re inside. Listen to your HA rep, and we¡¯ll be out and on our way homes in no time.¡±


    Jonathan was a bit tired at hearing the plan summarized so many times, but he knew that Hayes was still relatively new at leading in situations like this and that it might make Bill more comfortable to repeat the instructions in simple ways, since the man had barely ever seen combat before.


    One by one, they stepped through the swirling magical surface. The familiar sensation of disorientation hit Jonathan as they crossed the threshold. When his vision cleared and his weight was redistributed to his body, the group found themselves standing ankle-deep in murky water. They were surrounded by twisted cypress trees draped with Spanish moss.


    Emma had described the Rift biome to be a swamp, but the stuffy air and mushy ground were already enough to make Yates groan in frustration. Jonathan found himself not caring either way, just looking down at his boots and shrugging as he pulled his great axe from his shoulder and looked around.


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    ¡°Well, fuck me. This is gonna suck,¡± Jimmy muttered.


    Blue screens popped into Jonathan¡¯s vision, and he immediately dismissed them to clear his vision and scan his surroundings. It wasn¡¯t the time for personal gains; they had a mission objective, and that was his only concern.


    ¡°Let¡¯s move,¡± the group almost immediately began to move front-left. Without the ability to consistently use compasses in the Rifts, directions were often based on the orientation upon entering the Rift.


    They moved what was designated as northwest through the Rift, aiming for a bit of high ground that Emma had noted was steep but let her look back over the encampment and arena before she followed the tugging at her core toward the Rift exit.


    Jonathan and Jimmy moved with an experienced cadence through the muck, finding more stable footing than the doctor, who seemed to need his staff more as a walking stick than a magical weapon that it was. The brown water rarely rose above their ankles, but occasionally, deeper pools forced them to detour around small clusters of trees.


    The swamp itself teemed with life. Small creatures skittered through the underbrush and something that looked like a cross between a heron and a snake watched them from a fallen log before spreading feathered wings and taking flight. Jonathan hadn¡¯t been in an Uncommon Rift and had asked for an explanation before entering.


    Captain Hayes had been willing to give him a detailed run down on the differences between Rifts Ranks and Rarities. The key takeaways had been that the Uncommon Rifts had larger internal spaces, which led to more complex ecosystems and quests provided by the System, and had a time extending effect.


    After twenty minutes of steady progress, the ground began to rise and pull them above the swampy floor they¡¯d been traveling along. At the top Jimmy pointed to where the the trees thinned and a wooden structure could be seen from their elevated position.


    ¡°There¡¯s the arena,¡± he said while gesturing to another structure a short distance to the east of the first. They could make out some of the details from the encampment¡¯s description. Wooden platforms had been constructed and connected to different parts of more stable trees and there were a fair number of rope bridges that connected platforms. ¡°Based on what Emma said, there should be some more permanent structures just before the arena that were built on the only easily accessible dry ground.¡± The rest of the encampment had been built off the ground to avoid troubles with water and ground-dwelling monsters.


    They couldn¡¯t see movement, but they all knew that they were operating under time constraints.


    ¡°Let¡¯s go, no time to waste.¡± Hayes motioned them forward.


    It was another twenty minutes of pushing through bushes and muddy water before they had their first bit of contact. Where they¡¯d all been wary of finding an ambush of Awakened, they were surprised to be attacked by two large snakes.


    The monsters both sprung from the thick water at their feet and struck toward Jonathan, who was leading the group''s formation. He raised his axe and instinctively used the flat side of the blade to block the monsters fangs. The second latched onto his shoulder and he gave a grunt as felt the fangs sink into his muscles.


    Bill let out a startled yelp at the sudden appearance of the sickly yellow and green snakes. He had been holding a fireball at the ready and let it fire as the first snake fell back onto the surface of the water. Jonathan was already bringing his axe down on the reptile, though the fireball flew faster and struck the beast. It hissed in pain, and the water around it seemed to sputter and sizzle at the heat of the blast.


    ¡°Shit,¡± Hayes said. She shifted her hand position on the spear to grip toward the head, like a knife and wrapped her free arm around the snake. Its body started to coil around her arm and shoulder, but before it could dislodge its fangs from Jonathan, she placed her spearhead below its jaw and cut upward, using her enhanced Strength to cleanly cut through the monster''s head. The dead reptile went limp, and the head fell away from Jonathan¡¯s upper arm.


    ¡°Antidote,¡± Yates called as he took a knee in the water and pulled a vial from his bag. ¡°Here, chug it.¡±


    Captain Hayes¡¯s eyes darted back and forth and Jonathan had to assume that she was looking at her System notifications. He resumed his scanning of the surroundings as Yates tossed him the glass container.


    He almost missed the catch as a pair of blue windows appeared in his vision.


    You have slain Mire Viper - Level 4You have slain Mire Viper - Level 4


    ¡°They were only level four. The antidote should do plenty to take care of any poison they might have.¡±


    Jonathan grunted in acknowledgement and he could hear Dr. Turner letting out a shaky breath. He turned and tossed Yates the empty bottle and saw that the mage had moved a bit closer to the center of the group and was eyeing the two inch deep water with wary eyes.


    Jonathan looked at the two floating corpses. One was sliced in half and the other smoldering. Each of the Mire Vipers was easily six feet long and their bodies were as thick as his forearm. Their scales were a mottled pattern of yellow and green that blended in perfectly with the algae-covered water and sickly vegetation of the swamp.


    ¡°We should keep moving,¡± Jonathan said.


    Hayes looked at him skeptically, ¡°You¡¯re sure you¡¯re alright?¡¯


    ¡°Yes. My Constitution is plenty high, and if the antidote works, there shouldn¡¯t be anything to worry about.¡± Even as he spoke, Jonathan could feel warm blood seeping from the two puncture wounds in his shoulder.


    They took another minute to regroup and ensure that no one else was injured before continuing through the swamp. Soon, Hayes motioned them forward and crouched lower as they got to a tree line.


    ¡°Empty guard posts,¡± Jonathan noted. He scanned the nearest platforms and could see trash and other bits of discarded equipment. Despite the fact that the camp was a bit sloppy and clearly lived in, there were no signs of life.


    ¡°Where are they?¡± Turner whispered, holding the staff across his chest defensively.


    ¡°Coulda fled when they realized we were comin¡¯,¡± Jimmy suggested, but his tone was skeptical. He kept scanning the elevated walkways and held his bow down but knocked with an arrow ready.


    Captain Hayes studied the layout of the camp, her expression grim. ¡°Or they left something behind to slow us down.¡± She glanced at Turner. ¡°Any magical signatures?¡¯


    The researcher looked sheepish and shrugged, ¡°I can¡¯t tell you that. I can manipulate my own mana and sometimes sense other mana if it¡¯s interfering with what I¡¯m doing, but there¡¯s no way for me to know if they left something behind in the camp.¡±


    ¡°Fuck,¡± Hayes huffed. ¡°Alright, we¡¯re getting you or Yates some sort of detection ability when we get back.¡±


    Jonathan shifted the grip on his axe and eased the tension on his shoulder. The camp¡¯s silence felt wrong to him. ¡°Could be a trap,¡± he said.


    Hayes nodded slowly. ¡°It probably is.¡± She was quiet for a moment, weighing their options. ¡°Those kids might still be here. Even if the Untethered pulled out in a hurry, they might have left some of the less cooperative ones behind.¡± Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip on her spear. ¡°We knew this could be a trap from the beginning. It doesn¡¯t change the mission now.¡±


    ¡°Your call, Cap,¡± Jimmy said.


    Hayes looked at each of them in turn, then back at the silent camp. ¡°We go in. Careful and quiet. Bill, stay between Jon and Jimmy. If there are any kids still here, we get them out. If not, we gather what intel we can and pull back.¡± She paused. ¡°But nobody plays hero. First sign this goes sideways, we retreat and only engage if it¡¯s absolutely necessary to achieve mission objective. Clear?¡±


    They nodded and Jonathan felt the weight of the dampening bracelet on his wrist. He regretted needing to depend on a piece of equipment, but knew that it was necessary for the type of mission they were on. He didn¡¯t need unrestrained power, he needed cool and calculating.


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 Chapter 24: Unchecked Power

    The base''s interior was a stark contrast to the swamp outside. Smooth stone walls rose around them, supporting wooden platforms stretching between different levels and branching to surrounding trees.


    Jonathan led the way, his movements quick and deliberate as he cleared each corner. His axe was held at shoulder height, ready to block or swing if needed.


    ¡°Hear that?¡± Jimmy whispered.


    They could hear faint yelling ahead, and the tone alone made it clear that these were calls for help rather than shouts of anger.


    ¡°Keep your pace steady,¡± Hayes warned. ¡°Now¡¯s not the time to break ranks.¡±


    They moved through the corridors and saw more and more signs of hasty retreats. As they looked through adjacent rooms, methodically clearing their way through the first floor, they found discarded clothes and personal items in most of them. Most of the corridors were lit by torchlight, which signaled that things had still been active but hours before.


    ¡°Movement ahead,¡± Jimmy said, his keen eyes the first to notice motion through the large door at the end of the tunnel. The calls for help were in the room beyond, and Jonathan braced himself for a potential attack.


    The first cell block appeared ahead, and as they entered the large space, they could see metal bars gleaming in the dull torch light. Jonathan was certain that if it weren¡¯t for the dampener he was wearing, he would be able to feel the rage rise in his chest. As someone who had been through boot camps and various military selection courses, he would never compare those conditions with what he saw.


    The cell block stretched upward on two levels, and wooden catwalks provided access to the higher cells. Torch brackets lined the walls, many still burning and casting flickering shadows across the floor. The smell of unwashed bodies hung thick in the air.


    ¡°Please, help us!¡± A young voice called from above. More cries for help joined in and he could see hands reaching through bars or small bodies being pressed against the bars to get a better angle to look down at their entrance.


    Hayes moved forward, ¡°Good Lord. Turner, start documenting what you see and check the tables on this floor. Gather any intel that may have been left behind.¡± She gestured to the nearest cells. ¡°Jon, Jimmy, check these lower levels first. Send any of them that you find toward me and make your way up to the second floor. I¡¯ll do my best to keep them calm and explain what¡¯s going on.¡±


    The two men nodded and headed off in different directions. Jonathan approached the first cell and saw two young men, barely out of their teens, pressed against the bars. Their clothes were torn and dirty, and one sported a fresh bruise across his face. S§×arch* The n?velFire.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°How many of you are there?¡± Jonathan asked as he looked down at the small lock on the door.


    ¡°Twenty, maybe thirty of us,¡± the bruised one answered. His voice was hoarse, and Jonathan could see tears forming in his eyes. ¡°They took some with them after locking us up and were talking about releasing the monsters to come get us.¡±


    Jonathan yanked on the lock. It was sturdy, but he knew that his Strength would let him easily snap the metal. He gripped it with both hands and jerked down with as much force as he could muster. The lock broke, and he opened the door to let the two boys out before moving to the next.


    The noise of teens calling out increased and Jonathan was worried that it might attract the attention of any other potential guards that were left behind. He looked at Hayes and called, ¡°Sounds like they left hours ago. We need to watch out for anything they may have released.¡±


    ¡°Got it. Jimmy, you can¡¯t break the locks anyway. Head up top and get those kids to quiet down. Let them know we¡¯re going to get everyone out.¡±


    Jonathan found a young woman injured and lying down in the cell, though she dragged herself to the bars while waiting for him to arrive at the door. ¡°Some of them¡­¡± she said hesitantly. ¡°Some of them changed. The graduates- they really believed what they were teaching us. Y-you need to be careful.¡±


    Turner finished gathering what he could and moved between the cells on the lower floor ahead of Jonathan. He used his staff to light the way as if it were a large torch and looked for which cells held prisoners. ¡°Captain, some of these wounds look really fresh. Maybe from the arena combat?¡±


    He kept breaking locks and watched the kids as they exited the cells. Some rushed out immediately, some limped, and some moved with a certain confidence. He noted one boy''s movements, who seemed more fearful than injured, and wondered if he was worried that their team would hurt them.


    His thoughts drifted back to the words the young girl had just told him. Something about the statement took him back to his second tour in Iraq. After the U.S. had been at war for several years, the kids began to be pulled into the war. They would approach soldiers and act fearlessly. Sometimes, they would pass along insults, sometimes just begging for candy. Sometimes, the kids had been told that they were doing their god and country a great service by making a sacrifice.


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    Jonathan stopped with his hand on the lock and looked back at the group of teens gathering around his team¡¯s leader.


    ¡°We need to move quickly,¡± Hayes said, organizing the freed prisoners into groups. ¡°Those who can walk, help those who can¡¯t. We¡¯ll-¡°


    A shout from one of the kids above was the only warning.


    ¡°Behind you!¡±


    Jonathan ducked, unsure if the warning was for him. He saw a blue flash as a bolt of azure light streaked through the open middle of the room. The bolt passed just by Hayes¡¯s head, close enough that she clutched her ear and threw herself to the side. The bolt shattered against the far wall like glass that scattered across the stone floor.


    Turner wasn¡¯t as lucky. A second spell caught him in the chest as he turned, the impact throwing him backward into the cell bars. He slumped to the ground, and his staff clattered across the ground.


    ¡°Ambush!¡± Hayes shouted as she rolled to her feet.


    Some of the freed prisoners dropped to the ground and covered their heads. Others, some of the ones Jonathan had thought were acting strangely, pulled weapons from beneath their ragged clothes. A young man near Hayes drew a knife. His face twisted in anger even as he lunged at her.


    Jonathan moved to intercept another attacker, but pain exploded in his side as someone struck from his blind spot. He looked down to see a crude blade protruding from just below his ribs. The wielder, a boy no older than nineteen, was trembling.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± he whispered, ¡°they said we had to. They said-¡°


    More spells lit up the chamber and cast harsh shadows across terrified faces. Hayes¡¯s voice cut through the chaos as she called out to him. ¡°Jonathan! Bill is down! We need to-¡°


    An arched blade of wind cut through the air between them and caused the stone at his feet to shatter. Jonathan stumbled backward, which caused a fresh wave of pain to shoot through his side as he could feel the knife move. Warm blood soaked through his shirt and pool at his hip and the tight belt of his pants.


    His hand moved to the blade, and it was the most surreal sensation to realize that there was pain but absolutely no fear or sense of urgency. The emotional dampener was doing its job flawlessly, and he knew that if he took it off, the {Rage} would be there waiting for him.


    He looked around himself and saw the innocent faces of the teens on the ground and the frantic look in his teammates¡¯ eyes. If he took the bracelet off, he wouldn¡¯t be able to control what happened.


    Another skill flashed through the air and struck the wall a few feet from Jonathan''s head. The impact sent a spiderweb of cracks through the stone, but his mind remained clear and detached.


    ¡°Get those kids out of here!¡± Hayes ordered. Her spear blurred as she defended against two attackers, one with a small knife and the other with a short sword. She¡¯d positioned herself between the fallen doctor and the main group of hostiles.


    The boy who¡¯d stabbed Jonathan backed away, still shaking. ¡°They said we¡¯d never survive out there. That we needed to be stronger and to fight¡­¡± His words were lost in a choking sob.


    Despite his dampened emotions, his experience and training pushed him into unhurried action. He shifted his grip on his axe and moved toward Hayes¡¯s flank. As he passed the teen who¡¯d shanked him, he backhanded the boy, sending him spinning and unconscious onto the floor. Within moments, another teen was charging at him with a hatchet raised high.


    Jimmy¡¯s bow sang, the thrum of the chord barely heard over the more exaggerated sounds of spells going off. He sent arrows methodically into shoulders and legs, careful to avoid killing shots when he could. But for each attacker that he dropped, two more seemed to emerge from the shadows of the upper level.


    Jonathan observed the scene calmly. Turner lay motionless against the cell bars, and he suspected the thin researcher to already be dead. Spells flashed and splashed around him, and he knew that he¡¯d need to act or take cover. Even with his increased constitution and vitality, he¡¯s not sure how much damage he might be able to take.


    The genuine prisoners huddled on the ground or against walls, though some made a break for the exit without waiting for their saviors. A young girl dragged her injured friend behind a table that had been flipped over before they arrived.


    He thought through the logical courses of action he could take as he felt a steady flow of blood from his side. To save himself, he could either retreat now or remove the dampener to enter {Rage}. But both of those options meant leaving the teens behind and endangering his team. If he kept the bracelet on, he could push through the injuries and attempt to get a grip on the situation.


    Turner was dead, but there were still two of his teammates alive and a dozen or more innocent teens scared and scrambling for their lives.


    Jonathan turned and squared his shoulders to the boy who had reached him with his hatchet raised. He could have ended it with a single swing, even without his {Rage}, but instead, he dropped his greataxe¡¯s head to the ground and moved to disable the boy with his fists.


    He stepped forward with his uninjured side and caught the teen off guard by slipping too close to swing effectively with a downward chop. He brought a strong blow into the boy¡¯s stomach and felt his body fold.


    Using his Strength, he guided the boy to the ground. Jonathan felt an unexpectedly strong grip on his long-sleeved shirt as the body crumbled to the ground. Rather than falling completely limp, the boy tried to pull on Jonathan in a feeble attempt to bring him down to the floor.


    As Jonathan straightened, though, the world seemed to slow. The boy¡¯s hands slid down his arm and caught on his wrist. There was a small amount of resistance, and the boy fell back as black beads flew through the air. His dampening bracelet snapped.


    Black beads scattered across the stone floor, and Jonathan felt a rush of emotions that hit him like a physical wave. It crashed through the void that had been held by the enchanted bracelet, and everything he¡¯d been suppressing hit him at once.


    The rage at seeing imprisoned children. The horror of Turner¡¯s death at the hands of a brainwashed youth. The pain of his wounds. They all clashed and surged forth.


    Hayes¡¯s voice sounded distant, as if underwater. ¡°Jon? Jon!¡±


    He tried to focus on her words, to hold onto that clinical detachment, but the {Rage} was already rising in his gut. He saw the red mist begin to bleed into the edges of his vision with each pulse of pain through his side.


    The muscles in his arms budged against his sleeves and he felt his skill [Raging Breath] activate as he started to try to use his Willpower to hold back the tide of unchecked feelings.


    ¡°You need to get out of here,¡± he called through gritted teeth. He held up his arm to show Hayes his bare wrist. The red in his vision blinked in and out as he fought it down, using every ounce of his Willpower to wrestle it under control. Some of the kids around them took hesitant steps backward. He could feel his perspective shift as he grew an inch and knew he was fighting a losing battle.


    Captain Hayes¡¯s blue eyes widened in horror as she realized what was happening.

 Chapter 25: Friendly Fire

    ¡°Yates, get your ass over here and help me grab Bill!¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s dead. You need to get what kids you can and move. Now!¡± Steam spilled from his own mouth as [Raging Breath] brought in new billows of refreshing energy.


    The rage surged through Jonathan¡¯s veins like liquid fire and he felt as if he could feel and hear each heartbeat in the base of his skull. He felt like he was teetering at the edge. It would be so easy to embrace the rage and kill the brainwashed children turned into weapons who had killed his teammate and were trying to kill more.


    His muscles trembled with the effort of containing his anger. These children were the product of something more sinister.


    Turner¡¯s body lay crumpled nearby, blood still seeping into the stone floor. The man¡¯s dead eyes stared upward into the void. Jonathan¡¯s own wounds throbbed in time with his rampaging pulse, and each beat brought a fresh wash of bleeding red into his vision.


    ¡°Everyone out! Now!¡± Hayes barked as she moved to coordinate an exit through the surrounding combat. Her voice was sharp and carried a commanding tone that would get immediate results from most. Her spear flashed as she blocked a clumsy sword strike and whipped the butt end of her spear into the teen¡¯s temple.


    Despite her order, Jimmy stood his ground. ¡°I can keep my distance, Jon. Cap, lemme help him!¡± His bow continued to move with precise movements, and after seeing the accuracy of his weapon, the boy soldiers were hesitating any time the bow was raised in their direction.


    ¡°You don¡¯t understand,¡± Jonathan said through gritted teeth. His voice came out deeper than normal, and he bent over at the waist to tense his muscles further. ¡°You haven¡¯t seen-¡± He cut off as another wave of fury crashed through him.


    Blood dripped from his side, and the red mist encroached further into his vision. It was an uphill battle, and even with his increased Willpower, he knew he wasn¡¯t yet strong enough to hold back the {Rage}.


    Hayes stepped up and helped one of the kids stand and began to usher them toward the door. ¡°Jon, focus on my voice. We need to get these people out. Fight it.¡±


    Distant screams echoed down the corridor, and most of the people on both sides of the conflict in the room paused. Young voices were mixed with inhuman roars. The loud clang of metal could be heard, followed by more monstrous calls bouncing off of the stone walls.


    ¡°The holding areas¡­¡± One of the Untethered graduates said. "They¡¯re releasing everything. B-but, they said they were coming back to help us fight.¡±


    Panic began to rise and Jonathan struggled to split his focus to pay attention. He felt his perspective change as he grew another inch, and all of his vision pulsed.


    A young recruit, barely out of his teens, stared at Jonathan with wide eyes. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re that guy. The Crimson Warrior from the videos. You¡¯re why I wanted to be awakened.¡±


    The words cut through Jonathan¡¯s consciousness, and he groaned as he wrestled with his own emotions. Even here, among the imprisoned children and released monsters, the weight of responsibility weighed heavily upon him. Some of these kids looked up to him and thought he was some sort of hero because of how the news was portraying his suicidal Rift dives, which led to these kids being recruited by a radical group that promised the same taste of power.


    More screams echoed through the hallways deeper into the complex, toward the arena. The sounds of running feet and scraping claws grew louder, and Jonathan knew they were running out of time.


    A massive serpentine form crashed through the cracked doorway at the far side of the open room. It hit the door so hard that it broke the barrier, and it flopped uselessly by a single hinge. The serpent wove to the left and right, its scales sliding easily on the stone, before coiling itself to look around the room for a target. Its scales gleamed a sickly green in the torchlight, and its jaw unhinged to reveal rows of needle-like teeth.


    Behind it, more monsters poured in, and Jonathan saw flashes of salamanders that were the size of cars with toxic-looking barbs and a tree that seemed to move on two legs.


    Jonathan¡¯s greataxe was in his hands before he consciously reached for it. The weight felt good to him, a natural part of him. The nearest salamander creature lunged, and he met it with an overhead strike that split its skull. The impact drove the beast and his axe into the stone floor, leaving spiderweb cracks in many directions.


    You have slain Bog Salamander - Level 9


    He breathed out, letting [Raging Breath] fuel his swelling muscles. He reveled in the feeling of power and exertion that came with swinging his greataxe.


    ¡°Move! Move!¡± Hayes¡¯s voice cut through the chaos. She was herding the kids toward the door that they¡¯d entered through. She held her spear at the ready in case any of the monsters came for the backs of the retreating children. Jimmy¡¯s arrows found their marks, dropping smaller creatures that tried to flank the group.


    Jonathan wrenched his axe free and spun. He caught the oversized snake creature mid-lunge. The head of his axe was lodged in its jaws, and he felt it grate against the many fangs within. Slamming the axe down, he dislodged his axe before pulling back his leg and sending the snake flying with the force of his kick. It sailed across the room and connected with the far wall with a wet crack.


    You have slain Marshscale Asp - Level 5


    He saw blue motes rise from both bodies and drift toward him. Dismissing the windows in his vision, he looked around as his battle fervor grew.


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    Each impact felt good- too good. The rage was feeding on the violence, and it grew stronger in their internal battle with each strike.


    A blast of ice magic shot past his head close enough that he could feel the temperature change. Three adults entered the fray from behind the monsters. Two were melee fighters, and one was using a skill that allowed them to shape or shoot ice from their hands.


    Jonathan yelled to vent his fury and charged. His muscles burned with the power, and he felt a thrill as he pushed off the ground and ducked through two monsters on his way to the Untethered. His fist connected with the first attacker¡¯s chest and sent him through a support pillar. The blow connected and he felt the man¡¯s chest cave in and felt the stone beneath his feet rumble as he crashed through the pillar.


    The second managed to use a skill to close the distance between them and sliced a knife across Jonathan¡¯s lower back. He spun, twisted his hips, and brought his axe down in a diagonal arc into the man''s shoulder. He cut through the collarbone and into his chest, stopped only by the deep muscle and bone of the sternum and ribcage.


    The scene was gruesome, and one-half of Jonathan felt sick at the brutal efficiency of his rage, and another reveled in the freedom of carnage. He had to yank several times to dislodge the weapon from the man¡¯s limp form.


    You have slain Warrior - Level 7


    ¡°H-holy shit.¡± The woman held her hands up. The spell that had been glowing broke from her loss of concentration and overwhelming fear. Recognition appeared in her widened eyes.


    He risked a glance toward Captain Hayes and the others. Most of them were at the exit and were filing through with Jimmy still on the stairs for an elevated position to cover their retreat. The sight helped him cling to that last thread of control, even as he felt that the red mist was becoming a tunnel and he could only see through an opening in the middle of his vision.


    The tree monster moved with unnatural speed and used its twisted branches to reach for the fleeing children at the back of the group. Jonathan abandoned the mage and intercepted the monster, his axe cleaving in the wood with a . It was an oddly normal sound of an axe connecting with wood compared to what he was becoming used to. Two more swings and the beast stopped thrashing; it let out a death knell that echoed off the walls and caused several of the kids to cover their ears.


    You have slain Dryad - Level 12


    With each kill and each impact, Jonathan felt his grip on rationality slipping. The {Rage} was winning, but he was so close to holding out until they were all out.


    A slow clap echoed through the chamber. ¡°An impressive display of Strength. I didn¡¯t realize you¡¯d joined up with the enemy. Otherwise, we may have tried pushing to reach out to you a little harder.¡±


    The unfamiliar voice carried a lazy, confident sort of authority. Jonathan turned to see a man striding through the broken doorway, glancing at it casually as if it had insulted him. He wore a black set of robes with purple accents that seemed untouched by the dirt of the swampy Rift and the chaos of the battle. He held a wand in his hand and let it swish around as he spoke.


    Jonathan¡¯s axe swing would have split a normal man in two, but the Untethered leader caught it with a barrier of shimmering energy. The impact still caused the man to bow at the shoulders, but the shell around him held strong despite the floor cracking under his feet.


    He grunted but didn¡¯t lose his smirk. ¡°Sandra told me about your¡­ conversation. We have much to discuss, Mr. Reeves. We have a lot that we can do to help you with your goals. Just for starters, we can tell you about your son. About his final moments in that Rift.¡±


    The red in Jonathan¡¯s vision pulsed.


    ¡°The official report was incomplete.¡± He grunted again as Jonathan continued to apply heavy pressure against the magical shield. The overconfident facade began to droop, and he hesitantly pointed the wand at Jonathan as if unsure. ¡°We could help each other, you and I. There are forces at work beyond-¡±


    Jonathan felt something inside of him snap. The mention of Marcus and the casual way he wielded his death like a bargaining chip. While all sense may have pointed to him learning more, finding out what information the Untethered knew- all sense had fled. The {Rage} he¡¯d been holding back exploded through every fiber of his being.


    His roar shook the foundation of the pillars around him as his consciousness began to slip away.


    The last thing he saw was a System notification appearing in his vision.


    Jonathan¡¯s eyes cracked open to a world of pain and exhaustion. His muscles screamed as he rolled onto his side, and he spit onto the stone floor in an attempt to get the taste of blood from his mouth. Through blurred vision, he saw destruction everywhere. Several walls and parts of the floor were reduced to rubble from where the support pillars of the upper level had been shattered.


    He tried to push himself up, but his arms trembled. Pieces of concrete shifted under him as he moved. The chamber, once a depressing sight of dark cells and torchlight, had morphed into a scene from a horror movie. S§×arch* The Novel?ire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    Bodies lay strewn across the chamber. Some wore Untethered robes. Others were twisted monster corpses. The leader in black and purple robes lay motionless near a collapsed wall, and his wand lay snapped in two beside him. Other figures were scattered about; some were whole, and others¡­ weren¡¯t. He could see humans and monsters as he unsteadily pushed himself to his feet.


    System notifications crowded his vision, but he could barely focus on them through the pounding in his head. He closed his eyes tight and groaned. When the ringing in his ears subsided enough to hear, he could hear Hayes shouting.


    ¡°Over here! I need those medics.¡±


    Jimmy was crumpled against the far wall, and much like the Untethered¡¯s wand, his bow lay snapped a short distance away. Blood matted the man¡¯s hair, and his right arm was bent at an impossible angle. Hayes knelt beside him and applied pressure to the large slashing wound on his side. The sight sent ice through Jonathan¡¯s veins.


    ¡°Jon.¡± Hayes¡¯s voice was carefully neutral as she noticed him stirring. ¡°Stay where you are. Please.¡± Her hand tightened on her spear and the gesture didn¡¯t go unnoticed by him.


    A small team of Hunters Association members entered the chamber wearing blue bands around their upper arms. Two moved quickly to Jimmy¡¯s side, and the others looked at Jonathan warily. They turned to the side and whispered before casting him a final glance and helping to move Jimmy onto a stretcher.


    ¡°I¡­¡± Jonathan looked down at his hands, covered in blood. His clothes were in tatters, and his greataxe lay embedded in a wall across the room. ¡°Jimmy, did I¡­?¡±


    ¡°He¡¯ll live,¡± Hayes cut him off, her voice distant. ¡°But it¡¯s bad. The gash needs immediate attention. Med-evac is coming. You should go wait outside. Now.¡±


    He stumbled on his feet. His enhanced Strength and regeneration long fled his system. Walking toward the door, he passed Jimmy as he was loaded onto the stretcher by the medics and began to get carried toward the Rift exit.


    ¡°I tried to stop you,¡± he whispered. ¡°Put two arrows in your leg but couldn¡¯t slow ya down. You just¡­ kept comin¡¯. But don¡¯t worry, Jon. We got all of the kids out. All of ¡®em. That was the mission.¡± Jimmy held up his left fist and winced.


    Jonathan let the group pass and stayed in the room alone. He glanced around and thought about Jimmy¡¯s broken form. No longer able to hold it in, he leaned against the wall and threw up. The muscles in his abdomen burned with each wretch.


    He knew his trait had influenced his actions, but he didn¡¯t feel like it was an excuse. People had counted on him, and he hadn¡¯t been able to control the power.


    Jonathan slowly retrieved his axe, noting how much heavier it felt now compared to during the fight. He began the slow trek toward the Rift exit, letting the weapon drag behind him, too tired to carry it normally.


    The only thing that he could think about was that he¡¯d almost killed children and his team because he couldn¡¯t control his emotions.

 Chapter 26: Compromise

    Jonathan shifted in the uncomfortable chair that had been arranged before the long conference table in the Hunters Association hearing room. To his right, Jimmy sat in his wheelchair, still recovering from his recent injuries. Captain Hayes stood at parade rest behind them, waiting patiently for the small hearing to begin.


    Director Matthews sat centered at the table, with Deputy Director Sullivan at his side. Their postures were as different as their personalities. Sullivan sat with perfect posture and a pressed suit gave a stark contrast to Director Matthews¡¯s relaxed demeanor. S§×arch* The ¦ÇovelFire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The wall of windows behind them cast long shadows across the polished wood. Jonathan could see the December morning sun breaking through the clouds behind the two leaders of the Hunter''s Association.


    ¡°Let¡¯s begin. Deputy Director Sullivan, you may lead.¡±


    ¡°Very well, thank you, Director,¡¯ Sullivan said. His voice sounded like he¡¯d been through this process before, and it reminded Jonathan of the standard greeting and protocol in a courtroom. ¡°This hearing concerns the events of December 13th. Specifically the protocol violations and the subsequent incident involving Jonathan Reeves.¡± He shuffled through some papers while fixing his glasses. ¡°Before addressing the recent mission, we should note this investigation begins with a previous incident. Agent Elijah Carter reported observing Untethered leaving a Rift during your engagement there, is that correct?¡±


    Jonathan felt his gut twist. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s true.¡±


    ¡°Did you make contact with the Untethered while in the Rift?¡±


    ¡°I did.¡±


    ¡°How did that encounter play out?¡±


    Director Matthews had prepped Jonathan, letting him know that part of the meeting was a formality and that they would need to review this, even though it had already been discussed before he was signed on. ¡°I ran into them as they were leaving. They were mapping the Rift, and one of them recognized me and asked me to join their group.¡±


    Deputy Director Sullivan nodded along. ¡°And what was your answer?¡±


    ¡°I didn¡¯t say yes or no. They gave me a contact card and told me to reach out if I wanted more information on the death of my son.¡±


    ¡°Did you ever use that contact card? Where is it now?¡±


    ¡°No, I did not. Director Matthews now has the contact card. I turned it over when we discussed this before joining the Hunters Association.¡±


    ¡°Moving on to the recent incident,¡± Sullivan continued, ¡°we lost Dr. Turner.¡± His voice softened. ¡°A significant blow to this organization. While his death cannot be attributed to your actions, it emphasizes the volatile nature of these missions.¡± He looked down at his papers again. ¡°We also have serious injuries to your team member and reports of your loss of control during the mission.¡±


    Jonathan sat unmoving, looking at the Deputy Director in the eyes. Without a question to answer, he felt that speaking would only make him seem guilty.


    ¡°Sir,¡± Hayes stepped forward with a professional tone. ¡°I¡¯d like to note, for the record, that Jonathan¡¯s trait was fully disclosed and discussed prior to our team formation. Every member of this panel, including yourself and the director, acknowledged the risks during our preliminary briefing. We accepted those risks because of the unprecedented power levels Agent Reeves brings to the team, even with his power suppressed.¡±


    Sullivan nodded. ¡°Yes, that¡¯s correct. And we¡¯ve attempted to mitigate those risks with the enchantment bracelet, which I personally requested he wear at all times outside of Rifts.¡± He paused while adjusting his glasses. ¡°In hindsight, that may have been an overcautious approach and one that, even if obeyed, would not have remedied this situation.¡±


    Jimmy coughed, and when Deputy Director Sullivan inclined his head to the man, he spoke up. ¡°The bracelet broke during the ambush, but Jon still held it together for several minutes longer than that. Long enough for most of us to get clear.¡± He glanced at Jonathan. ¡°Without him there, none of us would have made it out. Period.¡±


    Jonathan kept his face even, but the hearing was not going the way he had expected. Especially not the deputy director, who he thought would be more than willing to pin such an incident on Jonathan¡¯s reckless way of fighting.


    ¡°This is accurate. As the team leader, I don¡¯t see any way that we, or any of the teens, would have made it out of there without him and his unique power. Even with how strong he is without his trait, we might not have been able to make it out without the dampener breaking. Their leader, Richard, was much stronger than we thought and had several enchanted items with him. Between him and the beasts that they released from the Arena pens, it would have been a slaughter.¡±


    ¡°The mission reports support this,¡± Matthews added. ¡°Despite the ambush and unexpected monster release, Agent Reeves¡¯s actions ultimately saved lives.¡±


    ¡°Sir,¡± Jimmy said. ¡°Captain Hayes and I formally request to remain on Agent Reeves¡¯s team.¡± He gestured to his wheelchair. ¡°Even with this setback, I gained two levels during that mission, and we weren¡¯t even supposed to fight. Besides, the healers patched me up good as new, sir. I¡¯ll be back to fighting shape inside of a week.¡±


    Jonathan''s eyebrows came together as the two continued to field reasons not only for his name to be cleared of the incident but to request to keep him on their team. The look of unease and fear that Hayes had given him after he gained consciousness lingered in his mind.


    Hayes nodded. ¡°During training, he even mentioned growing his control over the emotions that trigger his trait. With proper support and more practice, the risks will only decrease.¡±


    Sullivan studied them for a long moment, then looked down at his papers. ¡°Your assessment suggests that with proper emotional support and training, Agent Reeves could better manage these situations.¡± He looked at Jonathan. ¡°Would you be open to professional counseling as part of your continued service?¡±


    ¡°Counseling?¡± Jonathan¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°You want me to go to therapy?¡±


    ¡°Yes,¡± Sullivan replied evenly. ¡°We¡¯ve recently brought on Agent Lee, a psychologist with extensive experience counseling both combat veterans and those dealing with grief.¡± He pulled a file from his stack. ¡°More importantly, she¡¯s recently awakened with a trait that enhances her ability to connect with and understand her patients.¡±


    Jonathan¡¯s jaw tightened. The thought of talking to someone about Marcus, about his¡­ feelings. He glanced at Jimmy, still recovering, then at Hayes, both of whom had just defended him despite witnessing his loss of control.


    Director Matthews leaned forward. ¡°This isn¡¯t punishment, Reeves. Agent Lee¡¯s unique capabilities could help you develop better control over your trait as well as help you heal. The stronger your control becomes, the more effective you¡¯ll be at closing Rifts, which is your goal, isn¡¯t it?¡±


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    ¡°Regular sessions with Agent Lee would be a condition of your continued service,¡± Sullivan added. ¡°Along with your willingness to be a part of the Hunter''s Association. We don¡¯t need a loose canon, especially not one that can act as a one-man army.¡±


    Jonathan looked at his team again. They hadn¡¯t been together long, but they were quickly building a bond that he missed from his time in the military. Despite everything they¡¯d been through two days before- or maybe because of it, they were willing to stick with him.


    Hayes gave him an almost imperceptible nod.


    ¡°Alright,¡± Jonathan said finally. ¡°I¡¯ll do the counseling.¡±


    ¡°Good,¡± Director Matthews said with a tone that made it clear he was tired and satisfied. ¡°Then, I believe we can conclude this hearing. Deputy Director?¡±


    Sullivan nodded while arranging his papers. ¡°Agreed. Agent Reeves, you¡¯re cleared of any responsibility for the mission on December 13th. Requirement for continued work with the Hunter''s Association will be contingent upon a consultation with Agent Lee and her assessment for continued consultations.¡±


    Sullivan finished speaking, and the tension seemed to dissipate from the room. Hayes moved first, helping Jimmy maneuver his wheelchair away from the table.


    Something about it all felt wrong to Jonathan, like he¡¯d been let off too easily.


    The sounds of paper being collected and chairs sliding across thinly carpeted floors filled the room around him.


    ¡°Agent Reeves.¡± Sullivan¡¯s voice caused Jonathan to turn as he stood. The Deputy Director approached and extended his hand. ¡°Despite our differences in approach, your results are¡­ undeniable.¡± The handshake was brief but firm, and his expression was as professional as ever.


    As the man turned and left, Jonathan¡¯s forehead wrinkled further in confusion.


    Jimmy waited until Sullivan was out of earshot before speaking up. ¡°You know Matthews has been workin¡¯ on this day and night?¡± He kept his voice low, and the amusement was clear in his tone. ¡°Ol¡¯ boy has been in and out of meetings since the incident, talking up your control rather than your power.¡±


    ¡°What?¡± Jonathan felt that since he¡¯d sat down in the room, he hadn¡¯t had control over a single thing, and none of it had gone how he¡¯d thought.


    ¡°Come on, Jon. You really think the Hunter''s Association just happened to hire a psychologist willing to awaken and get the proper skills to make this work?¡± Jimmy grinned, then winced as he adjusted in his chair. ¡°Hayes and I just did our part. Matthews was the one steerin¡¯ this whole thing.¡±


    ¡°Agent Reeves.¡± Matthews¡¯s voice carried across the rapidly emptying room. ¡°A moment of your time?¡¯


    Hayes caught Jonathan¡¯s eye. ¡°We¡¯ll catch up later. I¡¯m glad it worked out this way- and¡­ Sorry for how I reacted in the Rift. You didn¡¯t deserve that. I know your skill set makes it so that you don¡¯t play so nice with others in a team, but I hope we can learn to make it work. Next time, we just won¡¯t stick around to try and help,¡± she said, pushing Jimmy¡¯s wheelchair toward the door. ¡°Also, try not to look so suspicious when someone¡¯s trying to help you.¡±


    Jonathan watched them leave and heard Jimmy snort and say, ¡°Help? Even with barely getting the kids out, I feel like I just got in the way. Sending Reeves in there ought to be like our secret weapon.¡± He smiled as they exited the room and brought his hand up to rub his beard before remembering once again that it was gone.


    Matthews waited until the room was empty before speaking and gesturing to the side door of the room. ¡°Walk with me, Reeves.¡± His manner shifted to something more familiar than the formal tone he¡¯d had during the hearing.


    Jonathan fell into step beside him as they moved through the building. Other agents stepped aside, nodding respectfully to Director Matthews while glancing at Jonathan.


    ¡°I know what you¡¯re thinking,¡± Matthews said in a casual tone. ¡°That this was too easy. Sullivan wouldn¡¯t just let this go. If you¡¯ll listen to a bit of gossip, the Deputy Director actually likes you quite a bit. He just dislikes the problems you can present to the other things that he likes. He¡¯s a smart man and no doubt realized what I was doing in there. It would have been easy for him to push back, but he allowed things to be steered that way.¡± He stopped at a window overlooking the city. ¡°If I¡¯m being very honest with you, we need you. But, we need you stable and in control of yourself.¡±


    ¡°Sir-¡°


    ¡°The Rifts are getting worse, Reeves. More frequent and more dangerous. We have seen reports in other countries of D Rank Rifts, which would even be too much for you to handle. We¡¯ve lost good people, and Doctor Turner won¡¯t be the last.¡± Matthews turned to face him. ¡°But we can minimize those losses with the right people, the right training, and the right support.¡± He paused again before gesturing. ¡°Let¡¯s step into my office. There¡¯s a bit more I¡¯d like to talk with you about.¡±


    The Director¡¯s office reflected the man¡¯s military efficiency and orderly personality. They both took seats and Jonathan looked at his tired face. He was only a dozen years older than Jonathan himself, in his mid to late 50s, but his exhaustion seemed to add another 10 years.


    ¡°I¡¯m just going to lay it out there. We want to offer you a formal position with the Hunter''s Association.¡±


    ¡°Didn¡¯t you already do that?¡±


    Matthews squinted and tilted his head to the side. ¡°Yes and no. Your current position is something of a contractor. We¡¯re paying you, and you get some benefits, but it doesn¡¯t feel like you¡¯re really part of the team. Does it? We want you to join the organization and help achieve its goals. This offer would come with full benefits, permanent housing here in DC, and¡­¡± he paused to slide a document across the desk. ¡°Complete college funding for David.¡±


    Jonathan looked at the paper, intrigued.


    ¡°Your son¡¯s pre-med, right? Expensive program.¡± Matthews leaned back. ¡°We¡¯d pay for whatever loan debt he currently has as a signing bonus. We¡¯re prepared to provide him with support when he awakens as well. Having you here in DC puts you closer to New York, which gives you the opportunity to be close while he¡¯s at Columbia. It¡¯s clear that family is important to you Reeves, if helping them can sweeten the pot, we¡¯re happy to do so.¡±


    ¡°There are some conditions,¡± he continued. ¡°Full compliance with HA protocols. The therapy we discussed. Until we see some real progress with Doctor Lee, you¡¯ll only be authorized to go into designated Rifts that we are certain to be empty. And we want you as the face of our organization- the ¡®Crimson Warrior.¡¯ The public needs heroes who can trust Reeves. We have to take this public now. We¡¯ve kept things quiet for the last two months, trying to pass off powers as kids and editing monsters and deaths as aliens, anything to get the conspiracy theorists to look the other way. It¡¯s reached the point where we can¡¯t do that anymore. Other countries are falling apart, too much footage has gotten out, and too many people think this is some sort of damn video game.¡±


    Jonathan almost snorted. ¡°You want me as a poster boy?"


    ¡°I want you for what you are¡­ a soldier who can inspire others. Show them that power can be controlled and turned to fight these damned monsters.¡± He leaned forward. ¡°You and your son both want to help people. You have the power to do so immediately. David can prepare for this life and set himself up to be a healer or something valuable that would see him set and protected for the rest of his life.¡±


    The mention of David¡¯s choice made Jonathan think about the way he¡¯d tried to pressure his youngest son into a path he thought was best.


    ¡°Think about it,¡± Matthews said, standing. ¡°But not too long. The Rifts won''t wait.¡±


    Jonathan folded the paper carefully and tucked it into his pocket. A chance to protect others and to make things right with David.


    ¡°I won¡¯t need to give it much thought,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m in. I will talk with David and make sure he¡¯s alright with this. I won¡¯t push him in any direction; the choice will be his. But I do have one stipulation of my own. I didn¡¯t work with or believe the Untethered because I want to believe in what you¡¯re selling here. I have served my country before, and I¡¯m happy to do so again¡­ but there has to be some trust built here. They were claiming to have proof that negligence from the government led to Marcus¡¯s death. I need to know if this is true. I want you to get me the full file on his deployment. All of them. That¡¯s my condition.¡±


    Director Matthews looked at Jonathan seriously, gauging the resolve of the request. He let out a breath before agreeing, ¡°Alright. It will take a few days, but I can do that. It depends on what you¡¯re looking for in these files, though. It¡¯s clear that they were unprepared, or else they wouldn¡¯t have almost been wiped out to the man. It was one of the first Rifts, and by all reports, it was a brutal one to enter as a first Rift. But I¡¯ve looked at those files already; there was nothing malicious or intentional about the death of some of our country''s greatest young warriors.¡±


    Jonathan took several seconds to return the same searching look he¡¯d received from the Director. The older man¡¯s face was stoic yet honest. In the end, Jonathan had to nod and take his words for what they were.


    Matthews nodded and waved Jonathan away with a smile. ¡°Take some time. It¡¯s a big decision.¡±


    Jonathan turned and walked from the office, still a bit shell-shocked by the result of his hearing and the subsequent offer.

 Chapter 27: First Steps

    Jonathan sat in the waiting room on the fifth floor of the Hunters Association building. The floor had been turned into an emergency treatment center for Awakened. He was doing his best not to fidget in the small chair. Two other Awakened waited nearby: a young woman with a bandaged hand and a man whose leg constantly bounced.


    A door on the other side of the waiting room opened, and a woman stepped out. She looked younger than he expected for a doctor but a bit older than most of the other Awakened he¡¯d seen. She wore professional clothes, and her blonde hair was pulled back into a neat bun. ¡°Mr. Reeves? I¡¯m ready for you.¡±


    He met her at the door, and she held out her hand to shake. When he did, they moved through the sterile hallways and past a large number of offices, most of them empty.


    ¡°My name is Dr. Lee. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you. I hope you weren¡¯t waiting too long.¡±


    Her office smelled like cleaning supplies and fresh coffee. He saw a steaming mug next to her keyboard and looked around the rest of the room. Unopened boxes lined one wall, and framed certificates leaned against the other, waiting to be hung.


    She gestured to a comfortable-looking chair across from her desk. ¡°Please have a seat. I apologize for the mess,¡± she said as she sat in her chair. ¡°I¡¯m still getting settled in. I understand Director Hayes pulled me on specifically to work with you. I¡¯m happy to be here and think that this is something that will go a long way for helping Awakened cope with the changes in the world¡­ and hopefully prevent them from running into situations without the proper support.¡±


    Jonathan nodded. ¡°He mentioned you had a lot of experience working with veterans before this.¡±


    ¡°Yes, primarily with PTSD and combat stress.¡± There was a pause as she searched his face and then looked at his posture. Her face softened. ¡°I want to start by building a bit of trust here. I¡¯ve read your file, Mr. Reeves. I know that you¡¯ve recently lost your son, and I can¡¯t even imagine the pain that must cause you. I¡¯ve helped many soldiers through the grief of losing a comrade and even some spouses through the loss of their husbands¡­ but it wasn¡¯t until recently that I experienced something like this myself. One of my best friends recently died in a Rift.¡± She looked down at her desk for a moment.


    Jonathan''s jaw tightened. He didn¡¯t want to talk to people about Marcus, but he knew that it was the entire point of him being there with Dr. Lee.


    There wasn¡¯t pity in her tone, just a mutual understanding and it was the only thing that kept him from shutting down the feelings immediately. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that. My son is a large reason why I want to work for the Hunters Association and close the Rifts.¡±


    Doctor Lee nodded and gave a brief smile. ¡°Yes, and I understand that those feelings of loss and anger likely led to you getting your unique trait. I think that with my experience, combined with my own trait, I think I might be able to help you manage your {Rage} more effectively."


    ¡°I don¡¯t want you to feel over-pressured to share since this is our initial session. Instead, I¡¯ll tell you a bit about myself, and then we can discuss how we can keep progressing in our upcoming sessions. Does that work for you?¡±


    Jonathan nodded and let out a breath that he¡¯d been unconsciously holding.


    ¡°Well, I have a cat. I grew up in Jersey and still live there, though I¡¯m planning to spend a lot more time down here with my new position. I have worked as a Veterans Affairs Behavior Health Therapist for the last five years. I only recently awakened as a part of my offer to join the Hunters Association. My trait seems quite helpful in my line of work. It allows me to see someone¡¯s ¡®aura.¡¯ This is a shape of color around you and everyone else that I can see. Everyone seems to change and constantly fluctuate. Your aura is much larger than the others I¡¯ve seen so far, which is to be expected with your reported level. I tell you this because I don¡¯t want you to feel like our conversations are overly invasive. I can¡¯t read thoughts in any way, though as a person¡¯s emotions and thoughts shift, I can usually see changes in their aura. Does that make sense?¡±


    Jonathan nodded. ¡°What does mine look like?¡±


    She smiled at him, clearly happy that was the first thing he asked, rather than a more drastic reaction at the unintended intrusion. ¡°Yours is the color of red clay. So a dulled or muddy color of red. Is that maroon? Either way, that¡¯s the color, and it seems like you¡¯re very in control of your emotions right now. While the volume of your aura is larger than most, the edge is where I normally see the most change in conversations. Rather than hazy or wobbling, yours has a solid and stable edge to it.¡±


    ¡°Wow, that¡¯s unbelievable,¡± Jonathan said. He thought about how crazy something like that would have been to hear just two months ago. However, at the moment, he didn¡¯t doubt her words in the least. ¡°So, other than in the moment, how does that help with therapy?¡±


    ¡°Well, it gives me an insight into how you might be really feeling beyond what you would say or show through body language. When you mentioned your son a few minutes ago, I saw a fracture splinter down the left side of your aura, like hairline cracks in glass.¡± She paused, watching his reaction. ¡°But when you talked about working for the Association and closing Rifts, those cracks filled with purpose.¡±


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    He considered the information. It made sense, having someone who could actually see what the emotions and {Rage} were doing to him. Jonathan also knew that he wasn¡¯t the best at expressing his emotions, so having someone who could read them without him needing to articulate them might be helpful.


    ¡°You mentioned talking about what our sessions would look like?¡¯


    ¡°We can start small. We''ll start with learning to recognize triggers and developing coping mechanisms. I¡¯ve worked with veterans who struggled with anger issues before, though I think your situation will be unique if your trait begins to feed those feelings or takes over your ability to rationalize things.¡± She pulled out a notepad. ¡°Would you mind if I asked you some questions about how the {Rage} feels in normal situations when you¡¯re not fighting?¡±


    Jonathan felt himself tensed and intentionally rotated his shoulders backward while nodding. ¡°It¡¯s there, but it feels like it¡¯s a way down deep. All I¡¯d need to do is throw it some bait, and it would surface.¡±


    ¡°I can see that tension in your aura now.¡± She made a quick note before sliding it to the side. ¡°Let¡¯s try something simple. Humor me here. Take a deep breath, hold it for four counts, then release it slowly. Let¡¯s do it a few times together.¡±


    But he did it anyway.


    ¡°Interesting. Your aura smoothed out there for the last two repetitions.¡± She gave him a genuine smile. ¡°That¡¯s the kind of thing we can work with.¡±


    They spent the last fifteen minutes of the session discussing basic scheduling and expectations. When the doctor stood to leave, Jonathan stood with her and walked to the door.


    She stopped at the door and held it open for him. ¡°It was great to meet you, Mr. Reeves.¡±


    ¡°You as well, Doctor Lee.¡±


    ¡°Please, call me Sarah. Thank you for your service. Both in the military and now with the Rifts. What you¡¯re doing matters.¡±


    Jonathan paused, caught off guard by her sincerity. He never quite knew how to respond to people thanking him for his service. It wasn¡¯t something he¡¯d ever done for the thanks. ¡°Thank you,¡± he managed to say awkwardly.


    Making his way toward the elevator, he was surprised to note that he felt lighter than when he¡¯d arrived, even though there hadn¡¯t been any sort of revolutionary breakthrough.


    When he arrived, he¡¯d felt tired and was dreading the idea of laying back on a couch and spilling his feelings to a stranger. Now he felt relaxed and slightly refreshed. He was excited to meet with David for lunch and celebrate his finishing of the mid terms he¡¯d been stressing about before winter break.


    Two hours later, Jonathan sat across from David at a small Vietnamese restaurant near Union Station. His son had arrived on the train from New York and looked tired but happy to be finished with his schoolwork for a bit.


    The place was busy with the lunch crowd, but their corner table felt private enough.


    ¡°So, how¡¯d the tests go?¡± Jonathan asked, stirring his pho.


    ¡°Good, I was worried about Organic Chemistry. I think I managed to get a high B, though.¡± David shrugged, a gesture that reminded Jonathan so much of Emma it made his chest tight. ¡°My friend Kevin kept freaking out because he didn¡¯t believe that you were the Crimson Warrior until he saw you on the news.¡±


    Jonathan grimaced. ¡°Still not used to that name. It sounds so¡­¡±


    ¡°Lame?¡±


    Jonathan paused with the noodles halfway raised to his mouth. They looked at each other and both burst into laughter at the same time.


    ¡°Yes, lame. I swear, if they ask me to wear some red tights, I¡¯m going to quit so fast.¡± Jonathan smiled as the goofy banter caused David to laugh even harder. ¡°They are preparing me for some speech, though. Have you heard about this internet person who is going to try to go into a Rift in a few days?¡¯


    David slurped his noodles and nodded energetically. ¡°Mhmm, Matt mentioned that. Also, it¡¯s called an influencer, Dad, come on.¡± He laughed. ¡°You¡¯re not that old. You¡¯ve got to do this stuff intentionally. But yes, Taker is a huge influencer and has spent millions to promote this as an event. He¡¯s gotten a deal with Netflix to live stream it, not to mention that he¡®ll likely be streaming it on his normal platforms.¡±


    ¡°Do they not know that electronics don¡¯t work in there? It seems stupid to treat this as some sort of kid¡¯s game.¡± He frowned unintentionally, thinking about how Marcus¡¯s entire unit had been killed because they entered a midlevel E Rank Rift.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡¯m sure they¡¯ve done some research. I don¡¯t watch those guys very often; they do some really stupid stuff, and I¡¯m just not into it. Why do you ask?¡±


    Jonathan shrugged. ¡°I guess that the Hunters Association is anticipating it not to go well. They¡¯ve tried to reach out and offer aid but are constantly rebuffed by lawyers or radio silence. They want me to prepare for some big speech if it does go horrible and people decide to riot.¡±


    ¡°Riot? That seems drastic¡­ Rifts have been talked about for a month or so now. I don¡¯t think people would freak out, right?¡±


    Jonathan grunted and looked down at his noodles. In the last decade, he felt that people were generally so unhappy and immature that they were willing to blame their problems on others and riot or protest at the first sign of something they disliked.


    They soon fell into a comfortable silence, both focusing on their food. It wasn¡¯t the awkward tension that had defined their relationship for the past few years. Something had shifted since their reconciliation, even though Jonathan wasn¡¯t quite sure how to navigate it yet.


    ¡°I, uh, had my first therapy session today,¡± Jonathan said unprompted. He surprised himself with his admission, realizing that he wouldn¡¯t have mentioned it a month ago. S§×ar?h the N??elFir§×.net website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    ¡°Yeah?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. The Association brought someone in. She seems capable.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s good to hear, Dad. Therapy is cool now, you know?¡± Jonathan raised an eyebrow, and David smiled in response. ¡°Seriously, that¡¯s great. Is she also Awakened? Does she have some crazy doctor powers?¡±


    He nodded. ¡°She does, but before you go and get any ideas, hear me out. The Association made me an offer. I¡¯m currently with them as a sort of contract or temp. They want to bring me on to be a permanent member and everything that entails. They want us to set us up in a house nearby, and they¡¯re offering to cover your college expenses.¡± He paused while watching his son¡¯s reaction. ¡°They also mentioned supporting you if you decide to awaken.¡±


    David¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You¡¯d be okay with that?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s your choice,¡± Jonathan said. ¡°I trust you to make the right decision for yourself. You¡¯re a smart and capable man now, David, not the boy that I need to make decisions for. It¡¯s my role now to support you however I can.¡±


    The smile that spread across David¡¯s face reminded Jonathan of when his son was younger. Before the arguments about college versus the military had started. Before everything had started to go downhill. He felt his heart swell with happiness and pride.


    ¡°Thanks, Dad,¡± David said. The words were simple, but he could feel the sincerity behind them.


    They spent the rest of lunch planning David¡¯s winter break. They both knew that things weren¡¯t perfect or completely healed, but they were finally moving in the right direction.

 Chapter 28: Legacy

    Jonathan hefted another box through the front door of his new house. It wasn¡¯t as nice as his home in Washington, but he didn¡¯t have to pay for it, and it beat a hotel room, so he didn¡¯t feel the need to complain. The three-bedroom townhouse felt massive compared to the car and hotels.


    He stopped inside the entryway and set down the cardboard container. He rolled his shoulder, marveling at the improved body that his stats provided him. He had only briefly looked at his Status Window since the mission, so he decided to bring it up and read through everything once more before David arrived.


    Status


    Name: Jonathan Reeves - Level 16


    Class: Berserker


    HP: 290/290


    MP: 100/100


    Traits: (1/3)


    {Rage}


    Titles: <One Against Many>


    One Against Many


    Physical Stats:


    Strength: 46


    Agility: 20


    Constitution: 29


    Vitality: 29


    Magical Stats:


    Intellect: 11


    Willpower: 25


    Mana: 10


    Wisdom: 11


    Active Skills:


    [Rending Strike] (Novice - Level 9)


    [Raging Breath] (Novice - Level 13)


    [Intimidating Shout] (Novice - 1)


    Passive Skills:


    [Blood Lust] (Tier I)


    [Pain Resistance] (Tier I) sea??h th§× N?vel(F)ire.¦Çet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.


    The sound of tires crunching on salt-covered asphalt drew his attention, and a new Dodge pulled into the driveway. David stepped out of the car and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets before walking up the small path.


    His son smiled and let out a breath into the chilly afternoon air. ¡°You know, this is definitely an upgrade from the other one,¡± David said. ¡°Though I guess anything would be better than the other based on how you told me you lost the other truck.¡±


    Jonathan managed a smile. ¡°Good drive back down?"


    ¡°Yeah, traffic wasn¡¯t bad. Driving is a lot nicer than taking the train. Thanks for letting me use it.¡± He handed the keys back to Jonathan and stuck his head through the door. ¡°Need some help moving these?¡±


    ¡°Sure. There¡¯s not much left in the moving pod.¡±


    They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, each of them carrying boxes marked with simple labels like ¡®Kitchen¡¯ and ¡®Clothes.¡¯


    Jonathan paused in the living room to take in the space. The only thing in the room was a coffee table and a few boxes with random items to be moved to other rooms.


    ¡°Planning on getting a TV?¡± David asked, setting down a box next to the table.


    ¡°Haven¡¯t put too much thought into it. Probably, though. Don¡¯t want you to get too bored. Been busy with the Association the last few days.¡±


    ¡°Yeah! You¡¯re famous now. We got to see you on TV last night- well¡­ I¡¯m pretty sure the entire country saw you on TV last night. The emergency broadcast cut off pretty much every version of media to play live. The President¡¯s speech about Taker¡¯s death was pretty unbelievable.¡±


    Jonathan¡¯s shoulders sagged. He hadn¡¯t wanted to do the speech, but Matthews insisted that it was part of his new role and that it would help the people trust the Association. ¡°Just did what they asked.¡±


    ¡°People are calling you a hero online. The Crimson Warrior, my dad¡­ pretty crazy¡­¡±


    Jonathan wasn¡¯t sure if he was referring to the state of the world, the president''s announcement of the future, how much things had changed in the last few years, or the fact that he was something close to the equivalent of a modern-day Captain America.


    ¡°Let¡¯s not¡­¡± Jonathan shook his head. ¡°How¡¯s the pre-med program been going? I know you¡¯re finished with mid-terms. What¡¯s next?¡±


    David let out a small laugh. ¡°Subtle subject change, Dad. But yeah, the exams went well. After the speech last night, though, it wouldn¡¯t surprise me if Columbia started offering some sort of Awakening prep courses. Especially if the government is offering grants or incentive programs for the school, it probably will happen quickly.¡±


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    Jonathan nodded, proud but not quite sure to express it. He smiled at his son and they moved the last few of the boxes into the house and put them in the rough locations that they¡¯d be unpacked. They sat together on the coffee table to take a breather, when Jonathan remembered something he¡¯d been given after the tense announcements the day before.


    He walked over to his jacket hanging by the door and pulled out a Manila envelope. The classified stamps across the front stood out against the yellow paper.


    ¡°They released Marcus¡¯s file yesterday,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Director Matthews said that there is a memorial stone for him and the others at Arlington. His name is probably etched up there.¡± His chest tightened. ¡°I thought maybe we could¡­¡±


    David¡¯s face was serious. ¡°Yeah. Yeah, we should go see it.¡±


    The light mood from earlier settled into something heavier as they grabbed their jackets and walked to Jonathan¡¯s new truck. He wasn¡¯t sure how it would feel to look at his own son¡¯s memorial, but he felt better knowing that they would be facing the monument together.


    The drive to Arlington Cemetery was quiet, both of them lost in their own thoughts. Winter had stripped the short and stocky east coast trees bare. The rain from the previous evening had frozen overnight and the streets were covered in salt.


    Jonathan parked near the newer section where they¡¯d placed the memorial for those lost to the Rifts.


    The stone was large, black granite with inlaid gold lettering. Marcus¡¯s name was etched into it and it took some time to find among the sea of names and dates. There were plenty of names added in the few weeks since Marcus¡¯s own death, and someone had left fresh flowers at the base of the stone, despite the cold.


    Jonathan pulled the envelope from his jacket. His cold hands were surprisingly steady despite the nervousness he felt in his stomach. He cleared his throat and began to read from the official report.


    ¡°At 2147 hours on October 3rd, Sergeant Marcus Reeves led the third squad of Charlie Company, 2nd Ranger Battalion into an anomalous spatial distortion approximately 52 miles northwest of Yakima Training Center.¡± Jonathan paused as he felt David put a hand on his shoulder and look at the report over his shoulder to read along. ¡°Upon entry, all electronic equipment experienced immediate failure. Squad emerges from the anomaly to regroup and assess.¡±


    He paused, drawing a deep breath before continuing. It was impossible for him not to read this and remember his own years spent in the unit and the stress of unknown territory on a deployment. ¡°At 2213 hours, the squad re-entered with minimal gear. Inside conditions noted as daylight and environment characterized as a rocky desert drain. At approximately 2000 meters from the entry point, the squad encountered hostile entities estimated to be 8-10 feet in height and utilizing primitive weapons.¡±


    David stood silently. Jonathan had more images flash through his mind, remembering the first Rift he¡¯d entered, and the dried blood of the ambush site he¡¯d found within the Rift.


    ¡°Initial contact resulted in four casualties. Standard ammunition proved ineffective against alien species hide. Close-quarters combat ensued. Statement from Private First Class-¡° The name was still redacted. Despite the details of the document being cleared for his viewing, it looked like they wanted to keep the identities of the few survivors classified. Jonathan could respect the decision and continued to read. ¡°¡®The things were fast, way too fast for their size. Sergeant Reeves recognized the trap before any of us. He called contact and ordered an immediate retreat. We moved quickly, shooting and moving to a small choke point. We were hoping to regroup.¡±


    Jonathan¡¯s voice wavered as he read the next part. ¡°When Santos went down, Sergeant Reeves broke formation to get him clear. He kept fighting after his rifle was taken and bent in half. He didn¡¯t stand a chance against the beast in a fistfight, but he used his sidearm to knee-cap the biggest of them. He dragged Santos back and ordered the group to keep moving. He stayed in the choke point as Corporal Andrews led the few wounded and alive back through the rocky terrain to get out of that hell. Sarge bought us enough time for us to get clear.¡±


    The report continued with the tactical assessment and one other personal statement. There were casualty numbers and further dates and details about their exfiltration and the following setup of the researchers around the Rift. Jonathan and David stopped reading.


    The clinical words couldn¡¯t capture what his son had done.


    ¡°He saved them,¡± David said quietly. ¡°Just like he always did for everyone.¡±


    Jonathan felt a pain in his chest, and his eyes immediately watered at David''s words. He could hear the pain in his son¡¯s voice. Folding the papers carefully, he said, ¡°Yeah. Your brother always was a natural hero.¡± He reached out and touched the hold stone with his fingers. ¡°Sometimes, I think about what he¡¯d say about all this. You know? About the Hunters and everything we know now.¡±


    ¡°He¡¯d probably say we¡¯re both being too serious,¡± David managed a small smile. ¡°But he¡¯d be proud, Dad. Of both of us. He was constantly trying to push us back together.¡±


    Jonathan nodded and was surprised to believe it. ¡°You know, when you chose pre-med, I¡­ I was wrong. There is more than one way to protect people, son.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here, Dad. I don¡¯t think I could do this alone.¡±


    Watching their breath fog in the cold December air, they stood together a while longer before making their way back to the truck. Unsure of what to say after such a serious moment, Jonathan walked next to his youngest son as they walked through the large veteran¡¯s cemetery toward the truck.


    ¡°Can, uh, can we get some lunch?¡± David smiled guiltily as he held his arm to his stomach and shrugged.


    They laughed softly together and made their way to the truck and discussed takeout options. As they pulled out of the cemetery, Jonathan felt a sense of cautious optimism. It would take time to heal, and the road ahead would be difficult. But, he felt that with David at his side, he could face whatever the Rifts had in store. It felt like a new chapter for their small family.


    He spared one more glance at the memorial in the rearview mirror before focusing on the road ahead.