The team hadn’t gone far after their meal. The cafeteria had thinned out, the last few squads still

  murmuring over their own plans. The team still lingering at their table, the weight of Jouk’s briefing

  and the promise of new portals still fresh in their minds.

  Rixor leaned back in his chair, half-grinning. “So, what’s the plan now? Please tell me it’s not more

  ‘rest and reflect.’ My body’s healed. My patience hasn’t.”

  Bash sat forward, folding his arms. “Not rest. Planning.”

  That word drew every eye at the table.

  “For the next run,” Bash said. “We’ve got twenty-four days left until the tournament. That means

  twenty-three after today. Jouk made it clear, the ones who make it through are the ones who adapt the

  fastest. We’re not here to relax. We’re here to unlock.”

  Liora nodded slowly. “You’re talking about full-spectrum assessment. Every ability.”

  “Exactly,” Bash said. “There are seventeen left, everything from elemental to the ultra-rare types that

  we haven’t encountered yet. If we’re going to go into that tournament with our best chance of doing

  well, we need to hit as many of them as possible.”

  Calen tilted his head, skeptical but listening. “You’re saying one portal for every ability?”

  “Not one-for-one,” Bash replied. “Some overlap. If we choose carefully, we can target portals that have

  multiple ability types with decent unlock probabilities. Elementals overlap with some essence

  categories, like when Liora and Darik both unlocked mineral and not much longer you unlocked wind.

  We can use that to stack chances.”

  Nyra leaned forward, her expression thoughtful. “So one portal per day, each focused on a specific set

  of unlocks?”

  “That’s the idea,” Bash said, his voice calm but sure. “We’ve got twenty-three days. If we focus on the

  more common ability types first, elemental, essence, and physical, we can hit multiple at once. Like the

  first portal we ran, when we crossed eight different ability environments in three days. If we use the

  map smartly and move fast, we can make it efficient. Rush the areas tied to abilities we haven’t

  unlocked, then shift immediately to the next. We’ll rack up combat experience, build fragments, and

  keep learning how to fight with our abilities and new gear along the way.”

  Nyra tilted her head, impressed. “So basically, hit everything fast, hard, and smart?”

  “Exactly,” Bash said. “We’ve already proven we can survive a Tier-Two Greater. Now it’s about

  refining what we know, making every run count.”

  Rixor whistled. “That’s a lot of fights in twenty-three days.”

  “It’s doable,” Taren said quietly. “If we plan the order right.”

  Calen nodded, though his tone carried hesitation. “I can work with that. I’d prefer more time to focus

  on my own ability growth, but… seven people, one plan. I get it.”

  Bash met his gaze evenly. “You’ll get your chance. Everyone will.”

  The table fell silent for a few moments as they all considered it, the scale of it, the pace, the risk.

  Nyra finally spoke. “Then we need a route. We can’t just walk into random white portals and hope for

  the best.”

  Bash nodded slightly, pretending to study the map on his wrist while S-C’s voice threaded through his

  mind, clear and sharp.

  “Start with the fire-dominant portal. Last elemental. Then move to essence and physical types. Keep

  the intervals tight, short rest between runs increases unlock probability.”

  He didn’t reply aloud. Instead, he lifted his gaze to the team and said,

  “We start with a fire-type portal. It’s the last elemental we haven’t tackled. After that, we move through

  essence and physical categories, minimal rest between. The faster we roll through them, the better

  chance we have at triggering new unlocks.”

  Taren tilted her head. “You really think we can manage that pace?”

  “It worked before,” Bash said. “Three days, eight ability types. Same method, just sharper execution.”

  Rixor smirked. “So we’re sprinting through hell again.”

  “Pretty much.” Bash allowed the corner of his mouth to lift. “But this time, we know what we’re

  walking into.”

  S-C hummed quietly in his head, “Approximate success increase: thirty-one percent. Assuming no one

  dies.”

  He ignored the comment and looked to his team. “We start with fire tomorrow. Portal 631.”

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Taren leaned forward, tapping the table. “Then after 631?”

  Bash pulled up a projection on his wristband, seven columns, each labeled by ability type. “We move

  into essence-based. Manipulation and lightning both show concentrations in the same portals. After

  that, we target DoT. Then Physical Force, we’ve already seen speed and power/strength, then next is

  thorns and reflective shell.”

  Rixor smirked. “Thorns sounds fun.”

  “Not when you’re on the receiving end,” Darik muttered.

  Bash continued, scrolling further. “After that, we hit the rarer ones: Blink Step, Still Veil, Imbuing,

  Alchemy, Reincarnate, Time, Space, and Gravity. Those are low-probability types, less than one

  percent chance for any single team member. But if we can get the others out of the way first, we can

  afford to take that gamble.”

  Liora’s eyes widened slightly. “You’re actually thinking we could hit all seventeen?”

  “Thinking we can try,” Bash said. “The odds are low, but our coordination’s higher than most. Jouk

  said it himself, we’re ahead of schedule. If we manage to round out the base set, anything else is a

  bonus.”

  Calen leaned back, arms crossed. “You’ve already made up your mind.”

  “Yeah,” Bash said. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not a team call.”

  He looked around the table. “Thoughts?”

  Nyra spoke first. “We started this together. We finish it together.” Her tone was steady, certain. “I’m

  in.”

  Taren nodded. “Same.”

  Rixor grinned. “You had me at ‘fight.’”

  Darik gave a small shrug. “As long as there’s something to hit, I’ll manage.”

  Liora smiled faintly. “And if we’re lucky, something to learn.”

  Calen hesitated, eyes flicking briefly toward Nyra, then Bash. His tension still lingered behind his calm

  expression. But after a long pause, he nodded once. “Fine. I’m in. But if we’re burning through twenty-three days, I want to make sure it counts.”

  “It will,” Bash said. “We’ll make it count.”

  He glanced at his wrist again. “S-C, what do we have to look forward to in 631?”

  She replied. “Surface conditions: volcanic plains with sub-surface magma currents. Environmental

  hazards moderate to high. Population density: standard, sustainable for extended engagement. Fire

  resonance detected at forty-eight percent. Departure window opens at oh-seven-hundred hours.”

  “That’s good enough,” Bash thought. “We’ll take it.”

  Bash repeated this information to the team.

  “Looks like we have our destination,” Nyra said.

  Taren exhaled, sitting back in her chair. “Fire, then essence, then thorns. Busy schedule.”

  Rixor grinned. “Just how I like it.”

  Bash stood, straightening his jacket. “Then we gear up, check our sync, and get some rest. Tomorrow

  morning, we move.”

  The others began to rise, the low scrape of chairs breaking the stillness. For a few moments, the room

  filled with quiet chatter, small exchanges, half-jokes, weary optimism. It was the first time since the

  Summoner fight that they sounded like a unit again.

  As the team dispersed toward the dorm corridor, Bash lingered behind, checking his watch again. The

  map of white portals shimmered before him, each one glowing faintly, a constellation of opportunity

  waiting just beyond reach.

  S-C’s voice cut through the quiet. “You realize it’s going to get harder the further you go. The rarer the

  ability, the lower the manifestation rate. You’re chasing probabilities that drop off exponentially.”

  Bash didn’t answer right away. He leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting across the dim cafeteria. The

  map still glowed faintly on his wrist, hundreds of portals, thousands of chances. “Good,” he murmured.

  “We have the maps now. We’ll find them.”

  “You’re confident.”

  “I have to be.” His voice stayed low. “If we’re going to stand a chance in that tournament, we need

  every edge we can get. We’re Novarchs, no guilds, no sponsors, no external funding to prop us up. The

  only thing we’ve got is time, and even that’s running out.”

  A pause.

  He exhaled, eyes narrowing. “Besides… Murdoc’s waiting for me. He made sure everyone knows he’s

  fully unlocked. And me?” He gave a short, humorless laugh. “I’d be walking in there with nothing but

  knives and armor. Doesn’t sound like a fair fight.”

  “Then we make it one,” S-C said quietly.

  Bash’s jaw tightened, a small nod following. The map dimmed as he closed the display.