Vanra stepped back through the portal first.

  She was not alone.

  A full squad of Green Spartors followed her in formation, their armor gleaming, their steps sharp and

  synchronized. The sight almost startled the gathered members of Bash’s team. After days deep inside a

  dead city, fighting crawlers, rodents, hounds, and spiders, the clean orderliness of trained fighters felt

  almost out of place.

  Vanra raised a hand toward her team. “Everyone, prepare to undergo Nexus debriefing. You will turn

  over all beast fragments and then report directly to the guild for a full evaluation.”

  The Greens moved forward without hesitation, unfurling large reinforced tarps for the wagon and

  lifting the heavy haul of armor and weapons with practiced ease. Tyrish and Orran stepped back from

  the wagon as the soldiers took over. The efficiency felt clinical compared to the chaos of the ruins they

  had just come from.

  One by one, the team stepped through the portal.

  The familiar feeling of portal travel folded around them, and after a moment of weightlessness they

  arrived inside the Ark. The air was cleaner. The lighting was steady. The hum reverberating through the

  walls like the heartbeat of a living fortress. After days in a broken world, it felt like walking into a

  warm shelter during a storm.

  Bash exhaled slowly. The tension of the mission finally loosened from his spine.

  Vanra extended her hand. “Bash. The ring.”

  He removed the gravity ring and placed it into her palm. She held it with a quiet look of pride,

  reverence, and responsibility before turning toward the Nexus attendants waiting nearby.

  The rest of the team stepped forward and dropped their heavy pouches of beast fragments into the

  collection bins. The Council scribes scanned each delivery, marking quantities, types, and tiers. Bash

  dropped his own pouch in with the others, his face neutral, his heartbeat calm. He had long since

  mastered the art of not drawing attention.

  “Proceed to Nexus sync chambers,” one of the attendants instructed.

  The team moved as a group. Down a metallic hallway. Around a bend. Through a reinforced door. The

  Nexus sync pods waited for them, humming with low energy. Each pod was circular with a half-sphere

  overhead filled with thin glowing conduits.

  Kayris stretched her fingers. “Finally. I need real food.”

  Tyrish laughed. “You ate three ration bars yesterday.”

  “Those are not food.”

  Vanra clapped her hands once, firm. “Inside your pods.”

  Each spartor stepped into their chamber. Bash stepped into his. The pod door slid shut with a soft hiss.

  The half-sphere lowered to hover just above his head. Thin lines of light traced across his skin, forming

  a map of his resonance.

  SC whispered calmly in his mind. “Everything is stable. You do not have to worry.”

  The Nexus flooded him with its neutral scanning resonance. Every spartor was required to undergo this

  after a mission. The Nexus compared before and after states, evaluated injuries, judged resonance

  shifts, and ensured no interference from external anomalies.

  Bash kept his breathing even.

  The moment the scan reached the void storage relic, he felt a faint tightening inside his chest.

  SC reacted instantly.

  “Counter resonance applied. Masking complete. Maintain calm.”

  The pressure vanished.

  A moment later the door opened. Bash stepped out.

  SC sounded pleased. “The modifications held. The Nexus did not detect anything unusual.”

  He joined the team in the hallway. Vanra looked them all over, nodded once, and motioned for them to

  follow. They walked as a group toward the guild sector.

  The doors slid open and Bash stepped into the familiar meeting chamber. Rows of elevated seats. A

  wide table in the center. A large holographic display mounted on the far wall.

  Vanra, composed as ever, led them to their seats.

  After several minutes, the door opened again.

  Rhell entered.

  Two high-ranking guild overseers followed him. Both wore long robes marked with silver-lined guild

  insignia.

  Rhell stopped at the head of the table and narrowed his eyes.

  “Your report.”

  Vanra raised her wrist. A projection expanded across the wall. It listed the total beast fragment haul,

  categorized by tier. Next came the list of recovered Tier 4 armor, weapons, shields and gear.

  Rhell’s eyes widened.

  He nodded slowly. “This is... substantial.” He looked to Vanra. “Now give me all of them.”

  Vanra blinked. “All of what, sir?”

  “The relics,” Rhell said. “The other four guilds recovered two relics each. With far fewer beast

  fragments. Far less armor. Far less equipment. You brought back enough gear to outfit several guild

  platoons. How many relics did you find?”

  “Only one,” Vanra said.

  She held out the ring.

  Silence.

  Rhell stared at her as if she had told him the Ark had a sky.

  “One?” His voice hardened. “One relic.”

  Tyrish leaned forward. “Sir, the city was enormous, we cleared everything.”

  Rhell ignored him.

  His gaze cut straight into Vanra.

  “You expect me to believe that a city capable of producing this volume of Tier 4 military equipment

  had only one relic left in it.”

  Vanra stood straight. “That is what we found.”

  Rhell’s jaw tightened.

  Then something inside him broke.

  Stolen story; please report.

  “You worthless team. I knew it. I should have sent another squad. I trusted you to deliver results and

  you bring me this embarrassment.”

  The room went cold.

  Rhoen’s hands balled into fists. “We brought back more combat-ready gear than any other guild. You

  said it yourself.”

  Rhell slammed a hand on the table. “Silence.”

  He turned sharply and pointed toward Bash.

  “And this is because of you.”

  The entire team stiffened.

  Rhell stepped toward Bash, fury radiating from him.

  “Since the moment you were assigned to this team you have done nothing but bring failure. No

  unlocks. No proper resonance. A liability in every mission. And now this. I want you gone from my

  guild immediately.”

  Kayris stood. “He did nothing wrong.”

  “Sit down,” Rhell ordered.

  She did not.

  Rhell glared at the whole group. “If any of you speak another word in his defense, I will blacklist your

  names as well. Do not test me.”

  The two high-ranking overseers stepped forward. “You have been dismissed. Leave the chamber.”

  Vanra clenched her teeth but obeyed. She motioned for her team to follow.

  Rhell continued. “He stays.”

  Kayris almost protested again, but Rhoen grabbed her arm and pulled her toward the door. The team

  was herded out into the hallway. The doors closed behind them.

  The two overseers remained with Bash.

  One spoke flatly. “You are to be removed from the guild and barred from future assignments under

  Rhell’s jurisdiction.”

  The other gestured toward the exit. “Gather your things. You are done here.”

  Bash stepped into the corridor. The heavy guild doors shut behind him.

  He stood there alone.

  A moment passed before he spoke to SC.

  “Now what?”

  “You go to Jouk,” she answered. “He will know what to do.”

  Bash inhaled, then began walking. SC guided him through the Ark’s walkways like a silent navigator.

  Past training arenas. Past courtyards. Past the tactical towers. He finally reached the military complex.

  The front desk attendant looked up. “How can I help you?”

  “I need to speak with Jouk,” Bash said.

  “One moment. Please sit.”

  Bash sat on one of the benches. Minutes passed. Then Jouk appeared with no sound at all, standing

  next to him as if he had been there the entire time.

  Bash startled. “I will never get used to that.”

  Jouk smirked. “What do you need?”

  “Somewhere private.”

  Bash sat in the chair across from Jouk’s desk and exhaled shakily.

  Jouk leaned back. “All right. Start from the beginning. Why are you here?”

  Bash told him everything. Getting thrown out. The relic count. Rhell’s outburst. The accusation. The

  blacklist threat against the whole team. Being escorted out like a criminal. It poured out of him in one

  long, bitter breath.

  Jouk listened without interruption. When Bash finished, the older spartor stood slowly.

  “I need to make a few calls,” he said. “Stay here.”

  He left the office, closing the door behind him. Bash sat in silence, staring at the metal desk, feeling the

  weight of the day pressing on him.

  Ten minutes passed.

  Then fifteen.

  Finally the door opened and Jouk walked back inside with a different expression, something between

  irritation and reluctant acceptance.

  He sank into his chair.

  “So,” Jouk said quietly, “what now?”

  Bash rubbed his temples. “I was hoping you could get me a military position.”

  Jouk let out a long breath. “I spoke to the council while I was out. Rhell filed a blacklist order on you.

  Since the military falls under council authority, you will not be accepted.”

  Bash’s chest tightened. “Great.”

  Jouk continued. “I pushed for exceptions. I asked for alternate placements. I even checked the reserve

  units. No one will go against the head councilor.”

  A heavy silence followed.

  Then Jouk leaned forward.

  “But I did find a guild willing to take you.”

  “What kind?” Bash asked.

  “A Grey guild,” Jouk said.

  Bash paused. “Only grey?”

  Jouk nodded. “Blue and Green guilds will not touch you with a blacklist hanging over you. They do not

  want to become political casualties. Grey guilds, on the other hand, are so far removed from council

  oversight that they do not care who you offend.”

  Bash rubbed his forehead. “So my only option is a Grey guild.”

  “Unless you want to start your own guild,” Jouk said. “But I assume that is not viable.”

  Bash hesitated. “If I could get Taren, Rixor, Nyra, Darik and Liora together again, maybe…”

  Jouk shook his head. “They are all in strong guilds now. They would follow you, but it would be selfish

  to ask them. Do not pull them from stable careers.”

  Bash sighed. “Then fine. I will try the Grey guild.”

  Jouk smiled slightly. “I already contacted them. Their representative is coming.”

  As if on cue, Jouk’s watch vibrated.

  “He is in the lobby.”

  Jouk led Bash back to the entry area. A tall Grey Spartor waited there, armored lightly in neutral matte

  plating.

  “Bash, this is Myr.”

  Myr looked him over. “Dark pigment. Interesting. You are the one who won the tournament last cycle.”

  “That is me,” Bash said.

  “And the one who cannot unlock.”

  “Also me.”

  Myr nodded once. “If you are strong enough to win a tournament, then you are strong enough for us.

  Come. Let us go to the guild base.”

  Jouk placed a hand on Bash’s shoulder. “You will land on your feet. You always find a way to.”