The evening air inside the central office of the guild was heavy with the scent of burning oil and old paper.
Xan sat behind her wooden desk, her fingers tapping rhythmically against the glass of the stolen violet vial.
Beside it lay an old, leather-bound folder.
Zaiden, Jahek, and Ambo stood silently across from her, waiting for the debriefing to begin.
Before any of them could speak, Xan let out a dry, humorless laugh, leaning back in her chair.
“Do you three know how this great guild actually started?” Xan asked, her voice dripping with cynicism.
“The history books make it sound heroic, but it started with the raw greed of the man who founded it.
Just because he and his family became victims of the white walkers, he started a cult.
He made himself a cult leader.
What began as a tragic revenge story quickly turned into a psychotic lust for blood.
He rampaged across the surface, slaughtering dozens upon dozens of Gen Z without a single shred of pity—until the King of the Gen Z stepped out of the ash and completely destroyed him.” Ambo listened, a cold chill anchoring his chest as he stared at his own bare palms.
“Humanity was bound for total extinction at that point,” Xan continued, her sharp eyes fixing on the vial.
“But then the second-generation leader of the guild attained Astral energy.
Completely unconsciously, he tried to fight back and discovered he could actually harm them.
Normal fire was useless because the Gen Z swarmed in the thousands, and the King wasn’t some mindless beast operating on pure instinct—he fought like a calculated warlord with his own tactical thinking.
But the second leader’s awakening triggered a massive domino effect.
Suddenly, regular people all over the surface began to manifest as Premera users, pushing the horde back.
To this day, why it happened and how our bodies suddenly triggered that power remains a complete mystery.” Xan leaned forward, her expression turning dead serious.
“I’m telling you three this because you are the only ones I truly trust in this facility.
Keep this to yourselves.
I have a strong feeling there is a mole inside this guild.” Zaiden narrowed his eyes.
“A mole?
The guild has been stable since you took over as Acting Leader.” “We are not the same guild we used to be, Zaiden,” Xan hissed softly.
“Our official Leader constantly goes to secret meetings with the Neomans for unknown reasons, and it’s giving me a terrible feeling.
I don’t trust those sky people.
No one knows their true origin.
Decades ago, they just descended from the empty space of the sky, claiming they wanted to help us advance our colonies and provide resources.
But they look down on us like sub-humans.
For that exact reason, I am absolutely not revealing the existence of this shortcut drug to the Leader.
I’m quietly forming a group to counter the traitors within our own walls.” Xan slid a map across the desk, pointing a finger to the far right.
“I’m putting you three on a journey.
I just acquired intel that an abnormal Gen Z with a high-level threat has appeared past the outer borders of the Sidlangan District.
Its threat classification is Calamitous.
It’s currently tearing through the isolated colonies on the eastern border, and it didn’t just spawn out of nowhere.
Go pack your gear and get ready to move out by tomorrow morning.
I think we might find a massive clue about these white walking freaks out there.
And Zaiden?” Zaiden looked up.
“Yeah?” “You’re the Captain of this squad,” Xan ordered.
“Check in at the border outposts before you start swinging your fists so the locals know you’re official Cullers and not some maniacs rampaging around.” Ambo and Jahek nodded, bowing their heads slightly before exiting the room, leaving Zaiden behind for a final word.
Xan watched the door close, then looked directly at Zaiden.
“Be careful, Zaiden.
Braxley is targeting you after what happened yesterday.
He remembers how you snatched Drax right out of his cages and made him run with his tail between his legs.
You really pissed him off, huh?” Zaiden shrugged, a faint, confident smirk playing on his lips.
“He knows where to find me.” “He does,” Xan warned.
“In fact, my scouts heard murmurs that his cartel is planning to ambush this very base tonight.
Let them try.
Whether you want to clean them up outside or just wait until tomorrow is up to you.
I keep my Segonda running at all times across this entire perimeter.
No one can enter without my explicit permission, and absolutely nothing can damage this facility from the outside.
Go get some rest.
They can’t even scratch the walls.” As night fell over the sector, the tension of the day faded into a quiet calm inside the barracks.
Because Ambo and Jahek were about the same age, the amnesiac boy found himself growing incredibly comfortable around the energetic Culler.
By dinner, they had officially been assigned as roommates within the guild’s living quarters.
Jahek spent the evening cracking jokes and giving Ambo with second hand clothes he used to wear, making the heavy burden of his empty memories feel a little lighter as they prepared to sleep.
Outside the grand stone walls of the guild, the darkness of the ruins was alive with hidden shadows.
Braxley the Slaver stood hidden behind the remains of a collapsed concrete archway, his dark cloak blending into the night.
His eyes glowed with a faint, telekinetic light as he stared at the pristine, untouched windows of the guild hall.
A scout sprinted up to him, panting heavily.
“Boss, it’s no use.
No matter what we try, we can’t break the perimeter.
We can’t even damage the outer brickwork.
There’s an invisible barrier locking the whole building down.” Braxley’s jaw clenched, his fingers twitching with telekinetic pressure.
“Xan’s barrier…” “But we got word from our insider,” the scout whispered quickly.
“Zaiden and that new kid who helped the lizard hybrid yesterday are deploying on a mission.
They’ll be out in the open tomorrow morning, heading past the eastern outposts.” Braxley hesitated for a moment, staring at the fortress, before letting out a cold, breath.
He lowered his hands, signaling his thugs to stand down.
“Change of plans,” Braxley hissed, turning his back on the guild.
“We retreat for tonight.
Fall back into the shadows and tail them the moment they cross the perimeter tomorrow.
We wait until they’re deep in the ruins, and we catch them at the perfect moment to tear them apart.” Meanwhile, miles away from the colonies, the air inside the subterranean Walibu conclave was perfectly still.
Lumi sat upon his minimalist throne, the soft light emanating from his posture illuminating the map stretched across the stone floor.
Standing before him was Phyrus, his face completely obscured beneath his unyielding dark mask, a tiny spark of fire dancing lazily over his knuckles.
“The guild is moving its chess pieces,” Lumi said, his voice smooth and commanding.
“They are sending a vanguard squad to investigate the eastern sector.
A Calamitous abnormal has caught their eye.” Phyrus remained perfectly silent, but the flame on his glove flared slightly hotter.
“I am assigning you to the East, Phyrus,” Lumi ordered, looking directly into the dark eye-slits of the mask.
“Intercept the area.
Watch the Cullers, but focus on the abnormal walker.
It is biologically impossible for a creature of that caliber to just spawn out of nowhere.
Gather whatever new information you can find.
If the surface is shifting, Walibu will be the ones to control the tide.” Phyrus gave a single, silent nod.
He turned on his heel, his dark cloak billowing behind him as he melted into the shadows of the exit, heading toward the exact same destination as Ambo.