[You have entered World Iron Devastation]

  [Status: Dissolution]

  [Expedition Rank: D]

  [Dissolution Timer: 17d 10h 23m]

  By the time of our first expedition, the Special Task Force acquired new additions to their [Loadouts] thanks to our ever-dutiful team engineer. Primarily, she focused on the newest members and made sure their gear was up to snuff.

  Victor received general upgrades to his armor and signatures: his flail, [Order], and his shield, [Hope]. Initially, his [Loadout] was manufactured by Ordo University’s artisans and engineers as a student project. They did good, but Chie ironed out the “rougher details to provide a better performance” according to her.

  Chunhua had her cultivator robes restitched, woven with a special material for better resistance against physical attacks. Like me, she had a weapon creation [Skill] so having a physical weapon was unnecessary.

  Kotone decided to completely redesign her urbanwear [Loadout] because of course she did. As for her [Psionic Pylons], Chie had made “minor readjustments” but that was all I heard. Our resident esper didn’t like disclosing information about her trusty sig.

  I didn’t need to go over Rei again. (Speaking of which, Rector was understandably less pissed when we said Jin Tianyou owe us a favor, so that was good.)

  Last but not least were the Shens. Well, Althea.

  Leo shamelessly snapped a photo of us standing together. “You guys are so cute.”

  I rolled my eyes while Althea playfully nudged my arm. “Lighten up, jackass."

  “Shut up.”

  Against all expectations, Althea was wearing the same [High Intensity Combat Suit] as me. We were matching! How adorable! We should be on the front-cover of every magazine as the cute sibling-tag-team we were! (I hate it.)

  While I wore pants over my [Suit], she wore a small black-and-silver jacket that she preferred leaving unzipped. Underneath was a tight chest-rig, fitted with pouches and pockets and Velcro, stuffed with “everything necessary for the combat environment”—like a college would require that level of equipment but alright. The rig carried her signatures: her [Constante MB] and the [Dual Magi Combat Daggers].

  Unlike her annoying older brother, she needed actual weapons. [Memento Echo] was too unreliable. Hence, she—or rather, Overseer—opted for a magick pistol and short-blades. I mean, they fit her style. Thea was an annoying little squirrel who was obscenely difficult to pin down in a fight.

  Leo sat at the end of her cot and crossed her legs. Because the entire team was assigned to the expedition—it was our first one, after all—we had an entire tent to ourselves. It wasn’t fine-living, but was it comfortable? No, because you had some of the worst people you could bring to an otherworldly hiking trip.

  Thankfully, having the whole Special Task Force assigned to a single exped wouldn’t be a common occurrence. That’s what I think, at least.

  “You both look good, like professional assassins,” Leo said but I wasn’t going to take that as a compliment. “Then again, with your skills, you’re indistinguishable from one.”

  “If they look like assassins,” Victor said, passing through while showing off his armor, “then I’m a shining knight.”

  I chirped, “You look like a donkey in aluminum, but appearances are subjective.” (“Fuck off.”)

  “It hasn’t been two seconds and Alex is already picking fights,” Kotone commented as she settled into her space.

  Chunhua loudly cracked a chuckle on the other side of the tent. “What’s new? If God was standing here, Alex would remark how the light is too bright for his eyes.”

  “He'd flip Him off,” then Aiden decided to join. "I would flip Him off, honestly."

  “He would say he’s still an atheist,” my sister also punched.

  Leo was about to sling a jab of her own before I kicked her foot. She pouted. As adorable and pathetic her puffed-up cheeks were, her pain was nothing compared to what my pride had experienced within the last thirty seconds.

  “Alright, alright, I get it,” I announced to the entire tent. “I can be a little bit of a jerk at times—”

  Almost everyone—literally everyone but Morgan, Rei, and Chie—shouted at the same time, “‘A little bit’?!”

  Before I turned my “a little bit” into “a lot of bit,” the tent flaps opened to reveal the unfortunate commander of the team. While we stood at attention—some of us more elegant than others—Overseer couldn’t help but smile and that scared me. “I’m taking your rowdiness as a sign of enthusiasm. Meet me at the command center in five. Your first mission’s already decided.”

  He left just like that.

  Leo shouted to the whole team, “You heard Overseer. C’mon, unpack what you need and hurry up!”

  Althea giggled for some reason, like this was the first time hearing Leo sound so authoritative. She asked me, “First real expedition, you ready?”

  I vaguely mumbled and shrugged my shoulders. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

  World Iron Devastation was the first of many expeditions for the Special Task Force, with our primary goal being experience. We had to be familiar with working in an unfriendly environment and cooperating with rifles, our guildmates, other guilds, and the President of the United States while we’re at it. Most of all, we had to operate and complete missions like actual professionals. Things like scouting, monster eradication, exploration, and of course, staring at dirt and pulling security.

  This was on top of our existing training by the way.

  You know what they say: there’s no rest for the wicked.

  Let’s do this.

  ***

  [You have entered World Abandoned Oasis]

  “...So this is the rumored Special Task Force,” said the soft-spoken nun wearing a white blindfold over her eyes. Don’t ask me how she was able to “see” us. “You all seem so…young and inexperienced. Surely, this can’t be right?”

  Meet Alexandra—haha, we basically had the same name—the 4th Wing Commander. To explain what that meant, Angels Guild’s organizational structure went like this from largest to smallest: Wings, Orders, Designations, and Teams.

  Wings were the largest organizational unit. Currently, we had five: 1st through 4th were operational and 5th was training, research, anything and everything miscellaneous. Barring the 5th, Wings were divided into Orders. Orders functioned as general purpose units: Combat Order, Expedition Order, Healing Order, and so on. Designations were specific purpose units (like Mixed and Magick Designation in Combat Order). And finally, we had the building blocks: Slayer Teams.

  To throw out an example, a team could be: Wizard Hats of 1st Wing Magick. (Wizard Hats of Magick Designation, of Combat Order, of 1st Wing.)

  Each Wing (barring the 5th) was represented and led by their strongest Slayers and Slayer Teams, becoming figureheads of their respective divisions. Officially-speaking, they were known as the Wing Commanders and Wing Teams respectively. On the streets, we knew them as the Five Archangels—the fifth was actually the Commander of the Medical & Hospital Force which was outside the organizational structure.

  1st Wing: Metallic of Ironblood.

  2nd Wing: Cauldron of White Potion.

  3rd Wing: Colossus of Determination.

  4th Wing: Alexandra of Paradise Ascending.

  Medical & Hospital Force: Sundrop of Smiling Faces.

  Then, there was us. The Special Task Force wasn’t privy to this structure, like the M&H, because we were in the Prime Wing: a home for specialized units.

  Standing face-to-face with Alexandra was nerve-wracking. Not because her habit was strangely revealing, but because of the political implications of our meeting. The Five Archangels likely had raised eyebrows at the Special Task Force. It came with questions that wouldn't get answers, and concerns that had to be investigated.

  After all, the STF was founded without the advice of the Board of Operations—both corpo- and sword-side.

  If we fuck up our first introductions, it’d make life harder on Seraph and Rector in the long run.

  Alexandra moved her head like a security camera attached to the ceiling, capturing our ugly mugs within her “vision.” “Which one of you is this ‘Rain’ I’ve been hearing of?”

  The culprit stiffened beside me. “I’m here!”

  “Ah, I see.” Can you, really? Joking aside, she turned in our direction but the blindfold obscured who she was really looking at. “Yes, you certainly have the physique and presence to impress Jin Tianyou, yet your voice doesn't seem to match your intense silver eyes.” (“Eh?”)

  I tilted my head. “I’m Conqueror.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Rain is standing on my right.”

  “I see, thank you.” Do you, now? Regardless, Alexandra shifted her head slightly. “Oh, but this is even stranger. Rain, why are you floating? And is that a book levitating over your shoulder?”

  Morgan, underneath his hood, seemingly rolled his eyes. “Right. Conqueror meant right. You looked left, nun.”

  Alexandra paused. “...I see.”

  “You don’t,” Morgan said.

  About everyone winced, but fortunately, the Archangel didn’t seem to register the insult. Thank God it wasn’t me.

  “I’m right here, Alexandra-san!” Rei broke the line and waved his arms, making damn sure this blind nun could actually see him. I don’t blame her; he was small and unassuming.

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  Alexandra tilted her head down. “Ah, there you are. You… You’re Rain? But you’re so… So…”

  Chie chimed, “Awesome?”

  Kotone followed, “Fashionable?”

  Aiden groaned, “Delusional?”

  Morgan ended, “Not blind?”

  Alexandra finished her thought, “Cute…”

  Rei’s pupils shrunk. “Huh?”

  “You’re a cute young boy. How old are you? When was the last time you had something sweet? Is your team treating you well—? Ah, if not, then…” A dangerous aura began leaking from the Archangel, and it wasn’t because she was threatening us. She was problematically maternal. “I will treat you much better than them.”

  “KOWAIIIII—!”

  Rei began running for his life.

  You know, that wasn’t a bad introduction.

  ***

  [You have entered World Hazestricken]

  “Sit down, Morgan, we need to have a conversation.”

  Morgan looked up from his reading, his messy purple hair flopping left and right. It was sweaty, dirty, and tangled worse than a bush. A perfect reflection of what kind of a man(child) he was. “What is it?”

  “What is it—?” Leo, my partner-in-crime, wildly gestured with her arms and I couldn’t understand what she was trying to convey. “Morgan, you have a problem. You have a genuine problem.”

  “Yes, that’s why I chose ‘Problem.’ I’m a problem child. I’m a problem for many people, and I have twice as many problems. So which one are you referring to?”

  I kicked underneath his cot, my toes hitting a thick bag. “That.”

  “My books.”

  “Books,” Leo said. “Plural.”

  “That’s how the English language works, yes. I have multiple books that I scavenged from the abandoned city we’d visited.”

  “Multiple—? Alex, start counting.”

  I scoffed. “Why me? You go and count—” (“Count the fucking books, lovely.”) “Yes, ma’am.”

  I pulled out the biggest, thickest bag underneath. It was already unzipped. Inside was a librarian’s paradise: books, books, more fucking books. Did he bring any from home? No, of course fucking not! Every single damned book was from the expedition! Most of them were withered, falling apart, or the ink was illegible! Plus, everything was written in another language!

  “One!” I exclaimed, beginning my count.

  Leo took over the conversation: “That’s too many. You know the regulations! We can bring back a few nick-knacks or mementos—” (“Ten!”) “—for the road, but not bring a library!"

  Morgan huffed and shut the book he was reading. That was also from the expedition. Could he understand or read the contents? No. “What’s more punishable? Smuggling military-grade weapons and equipment or adding a little written wisdom to the collection?”

  I fought, “Overseer has papers! Also, twenty-two!”

  “He has papers,” Leo reiterated. “You have tens of thousands of pages.”

  Morgan pointed at his bag and the stupid man digging through it. “One bag is harmless.”

  Leo pointed behind Morgan and toward the rear of his cot. He had constructed a makeshift headrest out of dusty, flaking books. There was at least a hundred of those fucking things turning the tent into an allergy apocalypse.

  “...I did not see that earlier. However, two bags are harmless—”

  “Yo!” Kotone barged into the tent, happy and ready to share the results of her mission, but instead she found me squatting before fifty-one books and counting. “Yo? What’s going on—?”

  I suddenly threw book fifty-two at her. “Catch!”

  “What—?” Thankfully, she caught the book and flipped open the cover. “What kinda book is this—?”

  A thick cloud of dust exploded in her face, and the book plummeted to the ground. “MY EYESSSSS—!”

  She ran out of the tent screaming and crying.

  Leo whispered, “They’re not harmless.”

  Morgan solemnly nodded. “Evidently.”

  “You’re carrying biological weapons,” I said.

  “Evidently. I suppose I should start making a bonfire.”

  I dropped book sixty-four in the bag. “You should burn a few of them—” (“Burn all of them.”) “Burn all of them, absolutely.”

  Distantly, Kotone screamed.

  ***

  [You have entered World Ravenous Depths]

  [First Azure - Ethercross]

  [Leaves of Maolin - Torrential Leaf Drop]

  “Ha!” Forest Master twirled her spear around, blood spraying over the beastly corpses she’d slain. “What a joke. These whelps couldn’t entertain a child.”

  “Heh, too easy.” Empress flicked red off her twin blades. “I didn’t break a sweat that time.”

  The cultivator gave an odd look to the murim-in. “Remind me, demonic dog. The [Azure Series] were fostered by your father, yes? Aren’t they a derivative of the [Demonic Artes]?”

  “In foundation, but they couldn’t be more different.” Empress held out [Father], its azure tones shining. “My father sought his own path away from the Demonic Cult and created these sword techniques as a result. The [Divine Series] came from my mother, an orthodox murim-in. I told you before: I’m demonic in blood only.”

  “Yet your mind has been implanted with their way of life.” There was a scary gaze in FM’s pretty eyes. “Shame. I would love to see the [Heavenly Demonic Artes] in-person. Perhaps even the [Crimson Moon].”

  “Ha, unfortunately Auntie refused to teach me the Demonic Cult’s ways, and I’m the last person the [Crimson Moon] would choose. Why so serious, cultivator? Are you planning on stealing our secrets? You won’t be first and you definitely won’t be the last.”

  Forest Master cackled. “Oh please, Celestial Empress, I may be interested in your sect’s jewels but not as gaudy jewelry to wear. It’s for the same reason as always: seeing whose philosophy reigns supreme. Your Korean drabble or my sophisticated xia ways, but since you're demonic in blood only, I’ve lost that spark of curiosity.”

  A fire was lit in Empress’s eyes; meanwhile, I was here questioning whether or not I ought to run.

  The second-in-line heir of the Ryu Family faced the exile of the Maolin Sect. “Those are quite brave words, xia. Why does it matter if I know my auntie’s techniques or not? Do you think only the [Demonic Artes] can match your Maolin spear techniques?”

  FM stepped forward, gladly embracing the challenge. “There is a reason why the spear triumphs above all other weapons, Empress. My [Leaves of Maolin] has been honed across generations, while your [Azure] and [Divine Series] possess a fraction of the development combined.”

  “Yet you learned from a book.” Empress glared nastily. “I took my parents’ sword techniques as my own. I innovated them, while you lazily follow through the motions.”

  “How arrogant and ignorant. Demonic whores think so highly of themselves. I’d laugh if I didn’t pity them so.”

  “Heh.” A vein was bulging across Celestial Empress’s ugly forehead.

  “Hmph.” Forest Master held the tensest smile in her life.

  “...Ladies,” I introduced myself into this scene, raising my hands to show that I mean zero harm. “Let’s calm down here—”

  My voice brought the demon out of them. Instantly they flashed their signatures and I nearly shat my pants. After seeing me, they still didn’t bring those fucking things down! In fact, they smiled.

  “He’ll do,” muttered the cultivator.

  “More than enough,” then the murim-in. “Conqueror, you’ll evaluate our performance for this expedition then pick the winner.”

  I kept my hands raised. “Winner of fucking what?”

  “Of who kills the most monsters,” she answered.

  “And whoever’s in the best condition by the end,” added FM.

  “You want me to do that—?!”

  The murim-in bolted deeper into the combat zone and the xia chased after, laughing maniacally.

  …Martial beauties. They're crazy.

  ***

  [You have entered World Terror in Stone]

  “Dude, I’m fucking wiped.” Victor banged his head against the crate he was sitting at. “Right after this exped ends, I have a twelve-hour shift at the hospital. I mean, if the exped goes longer, I’m prolly gonna pull out early.”

  “Shit, they workin' you like a dog.” Aiden sat on the other side of the crate, cupping his beer.

  Meanwhile I had taken a seat on a smaller crate lying around, doing nothing but watching the traffic filter throughout basecamp. It was a nice night to watch the empty sky and listen to everyone work.

  I said, “Is your training going good, though? Overseer seems happy with the reports.”

  Vic chuckled and downed the rest of his beer in a single swig. “My supervisor, man, she has it out for me. I caught a glimpse at my report the other week. You know what I saw? Two, three fucking pages of additional comments.”

  Even Aiden had to laugh at that. “Sounds like my complaints. Last year, I had an altercation with a team in 3rd. Their TL wrote, like uh… Fuck, how many pages was it—? Fifteen. A fifteen-page complaint. They fuckin’ hated me and I hated them. If I see their faces ‘round, I’m gonna burn the shit outta ‘em.”

  “And bring more patients to me, perfect.” Victor dramatically exhaled. “So I can give that chick more reasons to pick me apart.”

  I cracked, “She’s paying attention to you, at least. What is she like? She pretty at least?”

  A faint blush formed across his cheeks, or maybe that was the beer. “Why are you asking? Wait, yeah, when was the last time you talked ‘bout a girl like that?”

  I turned to Aiden. “He’s getting defensive.”

  But Aiden didn’t return my amusement. “Victor’s right. For a handsome bastard like you, you don’t talk about girls.” He showed a sadistic smirk. “Maybe a few scars will help ya out, huh? I’m offering.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m just curious. Aiden has Chie—”

  “Wait.” Vic slammed down his beer. “You guys are actually dating?”

  Aiden cracked a confused look, then it turned malicious. “Something wrong with that?”

  “N-No, nothing’s wrong, just surprised…” Victor cleared his throat, pulling on his sleeve a little bit. “You guys never really show it ‘round work. Sorta figured you guys were close but not that close—”

  “Something wrong with that too?”

  “Nope, I’m happy for you guys. But uh, on that note…” Vic leaned over the crate. “You have any advice? In general, I mean.”

  Aiden looked half-ready to break his bottle over the doofus’s head. “For you? Stop smiling like an idiot.”

  “Because it’ll creep out girls?”

  “No, you look fuckin’ stupid.” (“Oh.”) “And you, Conq?” (“I didn’t ask for any—”) “Tear out your tongue and people will start liking you.”

  “You’ll start liking me then?”

  “I gotta tear your face off before I start thinkin’ positively about you.” (“Right.”) “And your arms. Your legs too. And your heart while I’m at it—”

  Down the main road, distant figures were shouting and running everywhere. Something bad happened, I think, but nothing catastrophic. We stood from the crate and huddled together, trying to see what was going on. Aiden pulled up the System and searched the [Expedition Channels] for any answers while me and Victor tried looking over a growing swarm of people.

  A bunch were heading toward medical.

  Victor immediately looked more concerned.

  One of the medics—a rifle whose company was tasked to the exped—ran by and Vic grabbed his arm. “What’s going on?”

  The medic nodded toward the tents. “Breachers got through the line and hit the civvie-breakers. Radio’s calling for at least ten casualties, but there’s probably more.”

  “Shit, dude. Lead the way!”

  Without stopping to think, Vic and the medic disappeared into the crowd as the roar of transport vehicles disturbed what-would’ve-been a wonderful night. Aiden and I were left near the barracks. This wasn’t a job for us. We were fighters, not fixers. All we could do was pray for everybody’s health.

  “Fuck,” Aiden said our thoughts out loud. “When d’you think Vic is coming back?”

  I shrugged. "I think it'll be a long night for him."