“Order! We need order unless you want thirty people talking at once.”
Sergeant Luis Ortega’s voice filled the Thompson Center’s hollow atrium like a foghorn. Two hundred civilians, cops, engineers, day-old refugees, and Sean Delgado’s ad-hoc strike crew clustered in concentric rows of folding chairs scavenged from law offices. Sunlight streamed through the patched skylight; outside, broken streets steamed after an overnight rain.
Sean leaned against a pillar, Echo at his boots, observing. Marcus and Ruby flanked Ortega at what passed for a podium: a cafeteria table turned upside-down atop milk crates, its surface layered with duct-taped poster board that read “Loop Alliance Council – Day 4 (Tutorial + 60 h)”.
Mala Patel—grease-smudged ponytail, yellow safety vest—raised a hand. “Water treatment first. Melted harpy feathers clogged the municipal filtration screens. Our reserve tanks will run dry within three days unless we fix the West Loop pumps.”
A wiry refugee in a Chicago Fire hoodie—later introduced as Carlos—countered, “Food’s worse. You’ve got six hundred mouths since last night’s new arrivals. Our jerky stockpile’s half a day if nobody eats seconds.”
A grandmother cradling a toddler hissed, “Then maybe the PMC pigs outside the zone can cough up rations instead of bullets.”
Murmurs rippled. Captain Avery Rourke’s name still tasted like ash. His mercenaries occupied the South Loop rail yards, blocked every supply convoy that refused a “toll.”
Sean stepped forward, clearing throat. “We can discuss shortages all morning, but they trace to one deficit—energy. With power we sterilize water, run grow-lights, 3-D-print protein paste, even replicate food. No power, no city. Period.”
Brandon Cho tapped his tablet, projector firing a city schematic across the atrium floor. “Architect archives say high-grade Ether-cores convert to megawatt-class mana-reactors. Harpy Queen left a juvenile core, but the nanite lab will eat half just to spin up.”
Kim—arms folded, Glocks holstered—asked, “So where do we find bigger cores?”
Cho zoomed map south. “Pre-Fold geologic sensors lit under the Kankakee River Basin. Now the System flags a roaming Ether Behemoth – Rank E+ (Boss Variant). We kill it, we get a core.”
Mala’s eyes widened. “E-plus? That’s tougher than the Golem-Wolf.”
“True,” Cho said, “but the beast’s mobility stat is low—lumbering, water-bound. Perfect for a targeted strike. And the PMC’s too busy fortifying to snake it first.”
Sean met Ortega’s gaze. “Council votes on resource redistribution later. For energy, we’ll field a fast-strike column. Two squads: combat and logistics. We leave before dusk.”
Tasha Reed, lounging on a desk with her boots up, flipped a refugee-found poker chip. “I’m in. Rourke’s thugs will snoop; we should move like ghosts.”
“If we ghost south,” Ortega warned, “Loop’s perimeter gets thin.”
Marcus thumped tower shield’s butt on floor. “We trained forty-odd militia yesterday—riot shields and pipe-spears. They can hold for twenty-four hours.”
The council nodded, some with reluctance. Vote tallied 23 – 5 in favor of the ether-hunt. Supplies authorized: half of remaining ammo reserves, two medic satchels, and the precious Phoenix Down capsule.
Ruby pocketed the vial. “You die, I pay the co-pay once. After that, try staying vertical.”
Sean’s inner Marine barked a laugh. “Copy that.”
Two hours later, in a makeshift armory (formerly Macy’s luggage department), Kim distributed salvaged weaponry. Nano-sewn leather plates from harpy hide made for surprisingly light ballistic vests; the first set went to scout trio—Kim, Tasha, and Cho.
Ruby adjusted Marcus’s new Sky-Rend Aegis harness. “Shield feathers still stable?”
“Yeah.” He flicked one—mini-shockwave rippled air. “Anti-sonic is handy, but I want to test its mana-absorption on river monsters.”
Echo trotted over, muzzle nudging Kim’s thigh. Since evolving to Fen-Wolf Alpha, he weighed nearly as much as Sean and could easily bowl a man over. But he remained gentle with civilians—Light Alignment aura in action.
Tasha re-packed her tasers, plus two petrol bombs. “Smells like prom night.”
Cho glanced around then lowered voice. “Side news—Rourke’s internal comms mention a deal with something called the Cerulean Choir. They trade beast intel for sacrificial ‘volunteers.’ Creepy cult vibes, but info-rich.”
Tasha’s expression darkened. “Couldn’t keep his nose out of evil accessories for one day.”
“File it.” Sean slung a composite bow—stripped from an abandoned sports shop—and beckoned team. “Fifteen-minute check, courtyard muster.”
As they left, Ruby felt someone tug her sleeve. The grandmother from the council meeting—the baby balanced in a sling—looked up. “Bring hope back, child. If you can’t, bring light.”
Ruby squeezed the woman’s hand, unsure whether to promise anything except effort.
A caravan of two “liberated” city buses and an electric delivery van rumbled down I-57 under an afternoon sun half-eclipsed by violet Fold haze. Cho’s jury-rigged uplink scrolled satellite overlays across windshield—most of Illinois appeared mottled with blue and red heat patches; each patch indicated beasts of Rank F through D now roaming cornfields.
Ruby drove bus one. Sean rode shotgun, Echo sprawled in aisle between militiamen. He toggled Whisper-Sense: dozens of faint green auras skittered through roadside grass—spider-rabbits, harmless. The interface also pulsed a soft indigo 17 kilometers ahead labeled Behemoth—slow but massive.
Kim’s voice crackled over radio, “Bird-hostiles at eleven. Dive altitude, Rank F.”
Sean popped roof hatch; two hawk-like harpies harassed bus two, scraping claws on steel roof. Marcus climbed ladder with shield strapped to arm. The harpies shrieked, sonic snap. Aegis feathers shimmered, nullifying wave. One bird dived; Marcus sidestepped on ladder and punched shield rim into its beak. Crack. DP gained. Second harpy fled.
“Clear,” Marcus reported, dropping inside.
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Further south, barns lay flattened by unknown forces; grain silos stood like impromptu fortresses for thistle-trees three stores high. Some burned with blue flame—etheric wildfire impervious to water. Tasha snapped photos, always for leverage.
Dusk came fast under murky skies. Cho flagged the team to halt by a rest-stop ravine where the Kankakee broadened into slackwater pools. The target aura now pulsed less than two kilometers east.
Marcus tapped bus floor. “Vehicles stay on high ground; we move on foot.”
Ruby pointed at logistics squad—six militiamen, Mala, and Carlos the refugee cook. “Set perimeter. We’ll radio for extraction.”
Sean, Marcus, Kim, Tasha, Cho, and Echo advanced through knee-high reeds, river smell thick with algae and ozone. Fireflies formed living constellations—mana-gnats that sparked cool lavender.
“Hold.” Whisper-Sense flashed: enormous silhouette half-submerged near far bend.
Cho boosted drone altitude; night-vision feed displayed a leviathan carp-like creature armored in basalt plates, ten meters snout to tail, ventral sack glowing aqua. Finned limbs paddled mud.
Ether Behemoth (E+)
HP: 8 000/8 000
Special: Mana-pulse, River-fortress carapace, Core Node ventral.
Kim whistled softly. “That core vent—looks like a glowing weak-point.”
Marcus flexed shield arm. “Problem: it’s underwater.”
Tasha smirked. “Problem: I forgot my scuba set.”
Sean mapped battlefield: mud-flats, broken highway bridge forming artificial cliff, an overturned semi half-sunk near behemoth. Idea sparked. “We’ll piggyback the semi trailer—create high ground, drop down with explosives.”
Cho eyed petrol bomb in Tasha’s pack. “One bottle of camping gas tied to mana battery equals grenade.”
They prepped: Marcus and Kim waded, using shield as surfboard to tow Tasha onto trailer roof. Cho set drone for distraction; Ruby stayed bank-side, medical ready. Echo slipped silent, circling upstream to flank.
Trailer roof emitted metallic groan. Behemoth sensed vibration, bellowed—water geysered. Tail swipe hammered semi pivot. Marcus braced but slid, shield gouging roof. Kim hurled javelin-spear (rebar with harpy-feather tip) into gill seam—HP 8 000→7 600.
Tasha lit gas-grenade fuse, dropped toward vent. Creature’s dorsal fin erupted with mana pulse—shockwave. Tasha thrown sideways. Grenade bounced off plate, landing near Marcus. He kicked it soccer-style toward vent slot dimensionalities. Explosion—blue fireball, water scald—HP 7 600→6 500.
Behemoth reared; its maw unleashed cascading river water like water-cannon. Marcus shielded; Kim ducked. Trailer began sinking.
Sean signaled Cho. Drone swooped, strobing bright white. Monster tracked it; Sean sprinted across mud bank, arrow nocked with improvised tether line attached to rusted guardrail. Arrow lodged in dorsal hide; rail dragged, slicing along spine—HP 6 500→6 100.
Echo leapt onto carapace, applying Pack Resonance; Sean felt surge of agility +5 %. He scrambled up beast’s side, claws (merge half-formed) anchoring. He rammed bronze crowbar into vent seam, pried until aqua light brightened.
Kim joined from opposite flank, blades striking exposed membrane—HP 6 100→5 300.
Behemoth rolled, tail smashing trailer into shards; Marcus tossed shield outward, riding impact to bank, then re-engaging.
Creature’s core glowed brighter—charging mana pulse. Cho yelled, “EMP blowback in two seconds!”
Sean unlatched crowbar handle, wedged petrol grenade—only spare. Echo yanked him backward into river just as pulse detonated—cone of teal plasma scorched air where he’d knelt. Grenade ignited inside vent—HP 5 300→3 900.
Underwater, Sean’s lungs screamed; Wolf-merge instinct kicked, letting him hold breath longer. Together they surfaced near bow wave.
Marcus sprinted, shield high, and used a fallen road-sign as diving board—he soared (for a linebacker) and slammed Aegis onto vent gap. Anti-sonic feathers compressed energy pulse inward; shock imploded. HP 3 900→1 800.
Tasha, soaked, clambered onto collapsing spine ridge, jammed taser into cracked dorsal plate—electric arcs danced. Kim stabbed again—HP 1 800→1 200.
Behemoth thrashed, geyser knocking Kim far; Phoenix Down vial clinked in Ruby’s med-kit—still unused.
Sean spotted power cable from submerged street lamp. He seized loose end, fused by mana energy torrent, and plunged sparking wire into vent wound. Water around hissed. Core overloaded. HP 1 200→0.
Monster sagged, tremor passing through mudflats like earthquake. Tail thumped final time, corpse steaming. HUD flashed:
Ether Behemoth slain.
– 6 000 DP shared
– Core Node intact (E-class) obtained
– Echo Loyalty +3 (48/60)
Team sprawled exhausted on bank mud. Ruby dashed over, triage assessing bruises, shallow cuts, mild concussion for Kim.
Marcus panted, shield feathers singed. “Aegis held. Anyone else smell fried sushi?”
“Carp à l’éther,” Tasha quipped, wringing hair.
Cho’s drone light danced over behemoth body—scans archived. “Core weighs two hundred kilos. Bus suspension’s gonna hate it.”
Sean knelt beside Echo, ruffled fur. “Job’s not done till we’re home.”
Night wind carried distant echo of engines. Ruby’s brow furrowed. “Please tell me that’s our logistics squad.”
“Negative,” Kim answered, listening through tactical ear. “Turbine whine—PMC scout bikes.”
Sean’s teeth clenched. “They followed anyway.”
Logistics bus headlights crested hill, Mala waving from roof hatch. Carlos manned mounted flood-light. Cho flagged them; militiamen jogged down, hooking heavy-duty tow straps through core’s natural hollows.
Engines revved—three PMC bikes and an armored Jeep zipped along river service road, spotlights sweeping. Rourke’s men.
Marcus bellowed, shield brandished. “Go! We’ll stall!”
Sean threw him the Phoenix Down vial. “Just in case.”
Kim, Tasha, and Cho formed firing line behind rusted Jersey barrier. Ruby hurried civilians: “Lash that core like your life depends on it.”
Jeep turret opened with mana-bolts—blue lances vaporizing cattails. Marcus absorbed with shield, feathers bristling, reflecting sonic hum that rattled Jeep windows.
Kim double-tapped lead biker; tire shredded, rider tumbled into reeds. Tasha lobbed taser-grenade at second—conductive net entangled bike frame, electricity frying circuits.
Cho hacked turret via drone but encryption new—Cerulean Choir tech? Turret pivoted, targeting Ruby; Marcus leapt, shield intercepting—impact thundered, but Aegis glowed, dispersing.
Sean merged partial; fangs elongated. He dashed across mud, scaled Jeep side, yanked gunner down, claws at throat. Gunner screamed, tossed data-slab. Sean snatched artifact, incapacitated man with elbow strike.
Tasha commandeered turret, swung to third bike; rider braked, fled.
Mala shouted, “Core secure!” Bus engines roared; second bus reversed as barrier.
Marcus climbed aboard last; Ruby jumped rear, Sean whistled Echo—wolf bounded, clearing tailgate. Bullets sparked off Aegis; Tasha laid suppression fire through turret.
Cho triggered roadside mines he’d planted earlier—harpy-acid canisters rigged to tripwire. Jeep chassis erupted in azure flame as bus convoy sped north under swirling auroras.
Sean slumped in aisle beside Echo, adrenaline crashing. Ruby pressed compress to Kim’s scalp. “Two stitches.”
Kim grinned woozily. “Best souvenir.”
“Motive?” Marcus asked Sean, nodding at captured data-slab.
Sean powered it on—Cho decrypted. Hologram revealed Cerulean Choir glyphs and coordinates for Fold Gateway Event – T-30 h. Rourke planned to deliver “human tithe” to gate for promised A-tier gear.
Sean met teammates’ eyes. “They’re trafficking refugees again. Alignment test round two.”
Tasha cracked knuckles. “I say we pre-empt the choir and their choirboys.”
Ruby sighed yet smiled. “After a shower, maybe.”
“Agreed,” Marcus rumbled, exhaustion tugging.
Echo laid head in Sean’s lap. The wolf’s new telepathic whisper carried a wordless sense of belonging…and vigilance.
Sean stared out shattered bus windows at dark fields flashing with mana lightning. The core behind him pulsed like a heartbeat—like Chicago’s survival. Ahead lay political quagmires, cults, and the looming end of the Tutorial.
But tonight, the Loop Alliance rolled home with light enough to power hope—and maybe, just maybe, to power the next step toward reclaiming a broken world.
