The scent of scorched fur hung thick in the mist.
Half the pack lay broken across the shattered pavement, steaming. But the rest circled tighter now, shadows weaving through warped alleys and glinting windows, too many glowing eyes to count.
Every Coreborn in the squad had their Corewheel flared by now.
Crimson Bastion throbbed like molten brands as the tanks held their ground, shields scorched, boots buried in cracked concrete. Velocity users danced between wreckage and ruin, slinging gravitational pulls and disorienting bursts.
Behind one tank's barrier, Jaemin stumbled, breath ragged. His arm throbbed from where a Rifthound's claw had grazed him, but it was nothing fatal thanks to Hana's heals.
Another howl pierced the air — three more Rifthounds rounded a warped corner, fangs glistening, bodies liquid-like as they rushed along with the remaining others.
Hana rose in front of him before he could react, shieldless but unshaken. Her aura flared—soft emerald green, like sunlight through old jade. It pushed back the mist just enough to give her form a kind of glow.
"You're not dying on me," she said. "Not this early."
And then —A flicker of orange-hot pressure from their left.
The Precision Coreborn — a wiry woman with a hunter's grace and long hair and a mark on her temple — raised one palm. Lightning surged around her legs, arcing up her spine.
She whispered the call.
"Precision Core: TerraVolt."
The ground glowed in an orange circle.
Every Rifthound within a 12-meter radius staggered mid-lunge — bodies suddenly stiff, like strings holding them tight.
A surge of concentrated voltage exploded outward in a ring of pale orange light. pure impact.
Dozens of thunder-like tendrils lashed out from the epicentre, striking each creature with surgical precision — joints, nerves, cores.
One by one, the Rifthounds collapsed mid-charge, scorched and twitching, their forms melting back into Abyssal dust.
The scorched outlines of fallen Rifthounds smoked gently, their serpentine forms twitching before dissolving into flickers of corrupted core dust.
The Precision Coreborn lowered her hand, faint arcs of voltage still dancing along her forearm. Her aura shimmered, laced with sharp streaks of electric tendrils, before slowly fading.
Hana exhaled. "Thanks, Juri." She reached out, resting two fingers briefly against her collarbone, and a soft glow pulsed through her hand.
"No problem." The woman, Juri, glanced back over her shoulder. Her expression was unreadable, but her voice came out softer than Jaemin expected.
"You alright, kid?"
"Y-Yeah."
She narrowed her eyes.
"Just watch your steps. Rifthounds are drawn to unmarked core signatures. You're basically a walking dinner right now."
He managed a weak nod, feeling strangely exposed.
"Stay near the centre, and don't wander."
Before he could respond, the team's lead tank lowered his blade and turned sharply.
"Let's move. This area's too open. Formation holds. Eyes front."
The others fell back into rhythm without question.
Jaemin stepped back into line, keeping close behind Hana. She gave him a glance, then the faintest smile.
"Still with me?"
"Yeah," he said quietly.
"Good," she murmured. "Because it only gets worse from here."
And with that, they disappeared deeper into the fog-choked street, shadows trailing behind their glowing auras.
Their footsteps echoed through the desolate corridor of crumbling storefronts. The team pressed forward in silence.
Jaemin kept pace behind Hana, eyes flitting from shattered windows to the dim sky above.
"How do we know when… y'know, a raid like this is actually over?"
Hana didn't look back. She just kept walking, her voice even and steady.
"You kill the Overseer."
"Overseer?"
"They're the anchors," she said.
"Tier 5s and 4s like this? They spawn a single Abyssal Overseer. Think of them as… a local boss. They stabilise the Rift, feed it. Once they're gone, the Rift collapses on itself."
"Just one? That sounds… easy."
She gave a quiet chuckle.
"You'd think. But the Overseers are smart. Not human-smart — just enough to be tricky. And they don't always come alone."
"What do you mean?"
"Some of them bring Mages. Like support units. They cast barriers, illusions, sometimes even corrupt terrain. Messy stuff."
"Sounds like a pain."
"It is, but we're trained for it. As long as we stay sharp, they're beatable."
Her tone was casual — too casual, like she'd said this a dozen times before.
"And if we don't stay sharp?" he asked.
She finally looked back at him, her smile thin but not unkind.
"Then we die lol."
A gust of cold wind swept through the empty street, tugging at the hem of her coat. She turned forward again.
"But let's not do that, okay?"
****
They moved deeper.
Jaemin noticed it first. The fog wasn't thinning. It was thickening.
At first, he thought it was steam—remnants of the dead Rifthounds—but this wasn't behaving like that. It clung low to the ground, coiling around their ankles, then rising past their knees.
Too cold.
The leader stopped mid-step.
"Minjae," he called.
From the middle ranks, a tall man stepped forward. His coat bore a dull silver crest — support class.
He raised one gloved hand. A small, flickering orb formed above his palm, then expanded rapidly into a dome of light. The mist hissed as it touched the boundary, retreating like it had been wounded.
Jaemin watched, eyes narrowing. That's not steam.
The leader frowned but said nothing. Just gave a curt nod.
"We move," he ordered.
The group pushed forward, the light-dome shrinking behind them. The mist didn't follow.
Hana moved closer to Jaemin again.
"You know, mist doesn't form in Rifts, right?"
"Air's too unstable. Only steam gets through."
Her eyes lingered on the shrinking edge of the light dome.
"That wasn't Rift-steam. That was actual mist," she said. "Which means—"
"Something made it," Jaemin finished quietly.
Hana blinked, surprised, then offered a slight grin.
"Huh. You're sharper than you look."
He didn't smile back.
Ahead, the leader's pace quickened.
The moment they stepped past the veil of mist, the air changed.
The temperature dropped subtly; the haze that once clung to their boots now dispersed into jagged shadows.
Jaemin kept close behind Hana, watching every corner as the group advanced.
The buildings no longer resembled any city from their world. The stone was etched with strange glyphs, like burn marks fused into its surface.
"Feels like we've been walking forever," muttered one of the DPS ahead.
She had cropped dark-blue hair, swept back into a practical tie. Her boots barely touched the ground with each step —Velocity Core. Her name was Rin.
"Where even is the Overseer? And seriously, where are all the abyssals?"
From the warped ruins ahead, a long screech pierced the silence, like iron dragged across bone.
Figures galloped out of the broken street like shadows come alive — Abyssal Striders.
Twisted mockeries of horses, their bodies pulsed with dark veins. Each leg ended in a barbed spike that dripped faint, green poison. Their heads had no eyes, only twitching, gaping mouths.
"My bad guys spoke a lil too soon"
"Contact—multiple Striders—rear left and high right!"
The leader barked orders as shields flared. But it got worse.
From the rooftops above, Abyssal One-Eyes emerged — humanoid figures draped in torn shadow. One massive eye glowed dim red at the centre of their heads. Their arms morphed into long bone bows as they raised them in eerie silence.
"Snipers!" shouted Rin, voice suddenly sharp, grounded. "We've got fliers and rangers!"
Hana stepped in front of Jaemin again, calm but tense. "Stay behind me."
"Formation now!"
The team snapped into motion.
From behind, a calm voice cut through the noise. A girl with copper braids stepped forward, hands glowing with intricate spirals of energy.
"Auxiliary Core: Shimmering Life."
A sphere of radiant light bloomed above her palm — a floating lamp that pulsed gently, casting waves of warmth across the broken battlefield. The glow spread outward like a tide, bathing the team in soft amber hues.
Constant healing. Thirty-meter radius. Perfect for a prolonged fight.
The group felt it immediately — fatigue lifting off their shoulders.
The tanks wasted no time. Two of them broke off to either flank, slamming their shields into the ground.
"Bastion Core: Lion's Mane"
A deep thrum echoed as twin domes of fire sparked and twisted together, fusing into a large, crackling barrier that curved protectively over the squad. The flames danced along its edge, spitting tiny embers.
But these weren't just for show.
As the embers rained outward, they clung to the charging Striders, igniting faint trails of flame across their corrupted hides. The effect was subtle at first, but then the Striders slowed, movements dragging.
Burn status applied.
The leader stepped through the edge of the dome, sword held low.
He raised it, corewheel humming with strain.
"Bastion Core: Offensive Overload."
His blade surged with deep red energy, with pressure — and when it came down, it split the nearest Strider in two. The energy trailed behind his swings like a guillotine arc, cleaving shadows apart in rhythmic, grounded strikes.
Overhead, the One-Eyes launched their counter.
A dozen arrows flew like black comets, but the Lion's Mane embers met them midair — igniting, warping, burning the shafts before they could land.
Juri moved first, a blur slicing between broken walls and rubble. She reached the first sniper, twin daggers flashing like silver fangs. Two One-Eyes dropped before the others could react.
"Precision Core: Blinding Barrage."
A cone of white-hot lightning spread around her, bolts dense and surgical. They tore through cover, punching clean holes through One-Eyes as the sound of the storm howled across the street.
Juri is a little breathless
Screeches followed. Bodies dropped. Only a few One-Eyes remained now — twitching, destabilised, already faltering.
Jaemin watched it all from behind the tanks.
So this… is a real raid team.
The Abyssal Striders split—mutated limbs pounding against the cracked ground as they charged in two directions. One cluster crashed toward the frontline where the leader held his ground, already mid-skirmish.
The second wave curved around, beelining for the tank and the support line.
"Thump"
A One-Eye landed atop a Strider, riding it like a mounted knight twisted by shadow. Others followed. One of them raised a conch-like horn and blew.
A hollow, spine-curling sound echoed across the distorted terrain.
A new howl answered.
Rifthounds.
"Dammit," the leader muttered.
"They're coordinating!!."
Hana stepped forward, hands glowing with sharp emerald light. Her Corewheel flared, a vivid aura pulsing from her like breath from the earth itself.
"Auxiliary Core: Dynamic Oversurge."
A surge rippled outwards. The Coreborn's armour shimmered faintly, etched with a layer of radiant reinforcement. Muscles tensed. Weapons steadied.
All the DPS dropped low into combat stances.
"Break the line—go offensive!"
The tanks roared as one, bursting forward through the now-collapsing Lions' Mane dome. The crimson aura left in its wake shimmered like firelight.
"Bastion Core: Overheated Swordstrike!"
The second tank's blade ignited in molten crimson, cutting through two Striders in a single sweeping arc. Their forms hissed as they dissolved mid-step.
"Bastion Core: Warhammer Falls!"
The third tank's hammer glowed with condensed power before slamming it down with earthshaking force, crushing a trio of Striders beneath a burning shockwave.
The battlefield cracked open with pressure. Hana's buff rippled through their strikes—each impact cleaner, heavier, laced with the force of coordinated Core synergy.
Hana gritted her teeth as her emerald aura pulsed in tandem with the battle. Beside her, two other supports converged—Minjae, his palms already glowing with green threads of restorative energy, and Naeun, radiating with faint green hues as she extended her hand toward Hana.
"Keep it up," Naeun said quickly. "We've got you."
Their energies poured into Hana—stabilising her stamina reserves, letting her maintain the Dynamic Oversurge longer than she should've.
But Jaemin was alone now.
And the Rifthounds knew it.
They struck from the flank, lean serpent-like forms melting from shadow. One pounced.
Jaemin barely raised his arm.
The blow landed with a sickening crunch. His right arm dropped limp at his side, shoulder twisted unnaturally. He staggered, face pale, pain flashing across his eyes. Another hound lunged even before he could scream in pain
He raised his dull blade out of instinct.
Snap.
The blade shattered on impact.
Before he could react, the serpent tail of a Rifthound coiled around him, whipping across his broken arm.
CRACK.
"UghAAAa"
His body crumpled, arm dangling by torn flesh.
He fell backward—right under the pounding legs of a charging Strider.
THUMP.
A hoof came down on his ribs, crushing the breath from his lungs. Poison oozed from the Strider's mutated spikes, hissing into the wound. His body arched in shock, lips parting, but no sound escaped apart from a gasp"
"Gasp"
And then—
A blur.
A flash of violet and steel.
Schhkkk.
Rifthounds fell into pieces—disintegrating before they hit the ground.
The Strider reared up in alarm, but it was too late.
She was already beneath it.
The third DPS landed hard, twin chakram blades glowing faintly in the mist-soaked battlefield. The Flux Core around her shimmered violet with spectral brilliance.
A single, arcing spin cleaved the Strider from underbelly to skull.
In the span of seconds, the enemy cluster evaporated into steam.
Jaemin coughed once, blood flecking his lips.
"Still breathing?" the Flux DPS muttered, crouching beside him.
"Barely."
Her hands moved fast—stopping the bleeding with practised pressure
"Don't move. They'll get to you soon."
Hana's eyes scanned the battlefield, calculating, controlled. The buff had to stay up. Everyone's lives hinged on it.
But then—
Her breath caught.
"Jaemin.''
She turns back to look at him.
He wasn't standing. He wasn't moving.
She could barely make out the blood smeared across his chest, the crushed arm, the shattered sword beside him—and the shadow of Lim Jisoo crouched low, holding pressure to his wound with one hand, blade ready in the other.
"Minjae!" Hana snapped, "Go. Now. He's down!"
"On it."
He broke formation, aura flaring green as he sprinted toward the fallen Non-Coreborn.
Jisoo, the flux core didn't glance up as he arrived.
"He's poisoned and his shoulder's gone," she said coldly.
"I kept him breathing. Barely."
Minjae dropped to his knees beside them, already conjuring threads of Corelight.
"Thank you,"
He began weaving a healing lattice over Jaemin's battered torso. His palms hovered, slow pulses of amber light seeping into the torn muscle and cracked ribs.
"You're going to stay that way, alright? Just don't move."
"Form up!"
The leader's voice rang out like a war drum.
His aura blazed higher—deep crimson, like a flare touching the sky—and in a single motion, he swung his greatsword. The ground scorched. The closest striders vaporized in the shockwave.
The tanks flanked left, aura trailing like molten Red, drawing the bulk of the remaining shadows.
That's when Juri and Rin moved.
Juri's Corewheel spun with lethal brightness, eyes locked. Rin blurred past her, twin daggers catching light with every step.
Lim Jisoo gave Jaemin one last look, then rose, sprinting toward the frontline. The air pulsed as she rejoined the group, blade humming.
The remaining DPS—two Velocity Cores and one Precision—fell into formation, their
Corewheels blazing to life.
The team stood in a loose circle, back to back.
Weapons raised.
Aura flaring like a sunrise.
Then—
They launched.
A cyclone of motion.
Juri's bolts shredded the last One-Eyes mid-air.
"Crackk!"
Rin darted in, blades drawing arcs through the ribbed necks of Striders. Lim Jisoo cleaved through three Rifthounds in a single sweeping cut.
"Shingggg!"
Mist hissed, and shadows screamed.
Slash after slash.
The battlefield emptied, one kill at a time.
When the dust settled, only silence remained.
Hana's arms dropped—her spell fading, the glowing lamp behind her flickering out.
"Sighs"
She swayed on her feet, completely drained.
But her eyes found Jaemin—and nothing else mattered.
She ran, boots kicking up dust and ash.
Hana fell beside him, hands trembling. Corelight flared from her palms again, faint but focused. It took more effort than she had left, but—
His wounds began to close quickly.
Torn muscle knitted. Blood dried. Poison flushed. And with a quiet, glowing pulse, his missing arm began to reform.
Regenerated.
Hana let out a breath—half relief, half exhaustion—and slumped beside him.
"You're alright," she whispered, half to him, half to herself.
The whole team finally closes up together.
Rin stepped forward.
"When the fuck did Abyssals start adapting like this?"
She muttered, eyes narrowed into the thickening fog.
Juri didn't look up as she slid her bolts back into the holster on her hip.
"Last time I checked, no Rift has mist. Not like this. And One-Eyes? They don't belong here."
Minaje scoffed, spitting blood to the side as he leaned on his staff.
"Striders and Rifthounds, sure—Tier 5 trash. But One-Eyes? Those bastards are Tier 4. So how the fuck did they end up in a Tier 5 raid?"
Jisoo spoke, her tone as emotionless as ever.
"Easy. We're not in Tier 5 anymore."
Her gaze flicked toward the squad leader.
"We're in a Tier 4 rift now… right, Captain?"
The leader didn't answer immediately. His shoulders were tense, eyes narrowed into the fog as if trying to pierce the veil with sheer will. The red glow of him had faded, but the weight of power still clung to him like a storm waiting to crack.
"Damn right we are".
He took a slow step forward, surveying the aftermath—the torn remains of shadows, the scorched ground still hissing under the weight of their powers. His jaw clenched as he spoke.
"This Rift is abnormal. Broken to its fucking core. There's no Overseer here. And if there is, it's a puppet. Just bait."
"We're stuck," the captain said, louder now. "Deep in Doom's mouth."
Juri shifted uncomfortably beside Rin. "So what now?"
The leader turned to face them, eyes burning.
"We can't go back. We can't stay or else we rot... We move forward…"
His voice dropped, rough with grim certainty.
"…we all can die if we don't..."