The captain took the mission briefing—marked with coordinates near the edge of the city—and turned to leave the command vehicle. The rest followed behind him, forming a line that wasn't exactly straight, but clearly trying to be.
No one knew that behind the ordinary-looking mission text was a redacted warning.
—"Absolutely no units are to enter Area S-03. Subject 'Shesha' is present. Extreme risk of containment breach."
This note had briefly appeared on the mission assignment board. In a closed-door meeting, the top commander coldly ordered:
"Mark S-03 as a restricted zone. No one outside of us and the Institute needs to know what's in there."
The file was still intact when it was sent to the warzone coordination layer.
Then, in a quiet corridor, someone paused, looked down, and reorganized the print order. By the time Radiance Squad received their version, all mentions of "S-03," "experimental subject," and "restricted zone" were gone.
The captain of Blood Blade Squad folded the extracted sheet and tucked it into his uniform, as if disposing of a meaningless draft.
"Leave the outer blockade to them," he said flatly to the person beside him. "Elites… must learn to shine at the margins."
"Target area: Three key roads on the northwestern outskirts of the city—codenamed A1, A2, A3," the radio operator summarized from inside the transport. "We're to establish checkpoints to prevent mutants from breaching into the city."
"Sounds… a bit easier than going in to rescue people," the scout cautiously said.
"Don't assume," the captain shook his head. "The energy leak did start inside the city, yes—but no one guarantees the outskirts are safe. Stick to our standard procedure—scout first, advance next, and at any sign of trouble, stabilize. Don't rush."
His gaze swept across them, landing finally on Miguel.
"Most important of all," the captain added, "No matter what happens—don't charge in alone. The tactic stays the same: you're at the front, and we're right behind you. It's not 'you take it all, we watch.' Got it?"
"…Got it," Miguel muttered. "I'm not a kid."
The transport shook gently. The closer they got to the city, the stronger the scent of blood and a strange, tingling "restlessness" in the air—not wind, but something that made your skin crawl like static.
"Feels like a thunderstorm's coming," the medic whispered.
"Don't jinx it," the gunner grumbled. "I'm not stepping out in a lightning storm."
But there was no storm.
What awaited them at the edge of the city was a strange, unsettling silence.
Logically, a leak should leave traces: damaged cars, fleeing civilians, warning signs, evacuation orders—even just some noise.
But when they reached the first coordinate, what they saw was—quiet.
The roads had dried cracks, like something had been dragged across them; distant buildings had shattered windows with glass still scattered on the ground, untouched. The wind blew through the empty city, making abandoned propaganda flags flutter with sharp snaps.
"…Something's wrong," the scout said, lowering his voice. "It's too quiet."
"Confirm thermal signatures," the captain ordered.
The radio operator scanned the vicinity. "No dense population within 200 meters. A few scattered heat signatures, but could be hidden civilians."
"And the enemy? Any anomalous energy readings?"
"…" The operator frowned. "No large-scale mutant energy detected. Levels are… within normal range."
"Then we proceed as planned," the captain decided. "Scouts check interiors first. Miguel and gunner take the front. Medic and comms stay center. Stay sharp for surprises."
They began surveying the area, checking buildings and laying the first line of barricades. Crumbling buildings, near-empty streets. All showed signs of rushed evacuation but no clusters of mutants.
If not for the unshakable anxiety in the air, one could almost believe it was just a neglected outskirt.
"Captain." Just as they thought the mission might end uneventfully, the scout's voice came through the comms. "There's… abnormal vibrations underground, near Area A3."
"Details."
"Feels like… something heavy is moving down there."
Before he could finish, the ground gave a subtle quake.
"All units, stand by!" the captain barked. "Scout, surface immediately—do not approach!"
The scout responded, but in the distance, a crack split the ground.
Not an explosion—but like something was pushing upward. Soil lifted and tore, concrete folding like paper. A burst of metallic and burnt air erupted.
"Back!" Miguel instinctively pulled the nearest soldier away.
A shape rose from the rupture.
If the infected inside the city were "mutants," then this thing was like someone had taken their genetic code and rewritten it from scratch.
It wasn't monstrously large, but it radiated suffocating pressure—its body a blend of twisted muscle and metal-like material, as if energy conduits from a lab had been forcibly embedded in bone. Unnatural glows pulsed through its skin like liquid energy cycling inside.
Worse, the moment it surfaced, all portable detectors maxed out.
"W-What's going on? The readings… are spiking!" The radio operator stammered. "Energy levels off the charts!"
"All units, spread out! Don't get close!" the captain shouted. "Medic—prep the emergency kit—"
The thing looked up.
It didn't have a human face, just a grotesque humanoid outline. Bloodshot eyes briefly locked onto them.
Then, it roared.
Not just sound—a ripple followed, lifting rocks and dust off the ground.
"A mutant?!" the gunner lifted his rifle.
"Not a regular one," the captain growled. "This thing… it wasn't in the briefing."
Before he finished, the creature lashed out—a whip of distorted energy struck their makeshift energy shield.
It shattered instantly.
Everyone understood in that moment—this wasn't a target a regular squad should face.
"Fall back! Contact HQ—unknown high-risk entity!" the captain ordered. "Miguel, you—"
"No time!" Miguel gritted his teeth, already charging forward.
Their tactics had always relied on him: mark weak points, suppress with fire, sync data, prep rescue—focus everything to help Miguel land the finishing blow.
Problem was—this thing looked like everything was a weak point, or nowhere was.
The first test volley bounced off. Bullets and energy rounds were absorbed by its strange body, the glow flowing into it.
"It's absorbing?!" the gunner shouted. "The more we hit—"
"Stop concentrated fire!" the captain ordered. "Switch to suppression! Scout, find cover—mark potential vulnerabilities from the flank—"
Too late. The creature closed in.
It wasn't fast—but every step shook the ground. Miguel met it head-on, weapon ready, his instincts screaming—don't let it reach the rear line.
He dodged a swing, slashed its ribs with a close-range weapon—
Sparks burst.
Not metal on metal—but something high-energy being torn. A wound opened, glowing fiercely.
"Did we get it?!" the scout called out.
The creature screeched—like a beast in pain, or a system rebooting. The glow reversed. The wound healed.
"You've got to be kidding…" Miguel muttered.
It swung.
He blocked—but was thrown back, arm burning. The creature hurled a condensed energy shot—hitting the gunner behind cover.
"Ah—!"
His armor cracked. He fell, convulsing in pain.
"Medic!" the captain roared.
The medic dashed out—but Miguel already knew.
"No—!" he couldn't stop it.
The creature lunged. Strange liquid burst forth—corrosive. Even protective gear melted in seconds.
"Help… cgh—" The medic's voice died in static.
"Captain, i-it's still rising! Our detectors—"
"Shut them off!" the captain barked. "It's tracking the signals! Spread out!"
Too late.
The creature locked on to the densest area. Every blast and strike tore through cover and comrades alike.
Their tactics, once flawless, now looked like a predictable game.
"What the hell IS this?!" someone screamed.
The captain didn't answer. A single thought raced through his mind:
This thing wasn't natural.
It was too "logical"—absorbing energy, converting it, guarding key routes, eliminating high-threat responders.
Like… a final piece in some madman's plan to guard the edge.
"This mission… was rotten from the start," he growled.
One by one, they fell.
The gunner bled out. The medic couldn't even treat himself. The comms officer tried to call for help—only for the signal (and him) to be blown apart.
The scout died trying to draw its attention—his scream cut short by an energy whip.
Voices vanished from the comms.
"Captain… we can't… I'm sorry…"
The captain's eyes burned.
"Everyone—" he choked down blood, "Run! If even one survives—"
No reply.
Within minutes, the squad once praised as elite was reduced to pieces.
Only one figure remained, still fighting.
"Miguel!" The captain charged forward, stepping between him and the monster. "Fall back!"
"I won't!" Miguel snarled. "You said we're 'Radiance'—in the dark—"
"In the dark, we survive first—to shine again!" the captain roared back. "If you die here—who ends this?!"
The monster charged energy—this time, clearly aimed at the captain.
He inhaled deeply.
"Miguel," he suddenly smiled, gently, "Remember? You pulled us from despair."
Miguel froze. "What—?"
"If not for you… we'd still believe we belonged in parentheses." The captain's voice was oddly clear amidst the chaos. "You showed us—even with no talent, if someone leads, others can learn to stand."
He drew his sword—standard issue, used a thousand times in training and missions.
"Now it's my turn to give you a miracle."
"Don't—!" Miguel realized—
But the captain already ran.
Like a knight from a faded legend, he faced the beast.
It struck. He staggered—but didn't fall. Using the momentum, he slid close—thrusting his sword into its weakest point.
The blade pierced. A shriek echoed—beast and machine both.
It backhanded him—sending him flying.
Miguel's heart stopped.
But then—he saw the captain twist in the air, grappling the monster mid-fall, locking it down.
"Now—!"
Not to slash, but to hold. Pinning it toward a wall stacked with unused steel rods—several jutted out, sharp and deadly.
"Captain—!" Miguel's eyes burned.
The monster was dragged into them.
CRACK. Steel punched through its waist. Sparks and energy erupted.
It screamed, thrashing violently.
"Still—not enough…" the captain gasped, body tearing apart. "Even impaled… it won't stop…"
He was being shredded.
"CAPTAIN!!" Miguel lunged.
"Stay back!" the captain roared. "Come now and we both die!"
Miguel understood.
He was buying time—for one final blow.
"Miguel…" the captain said, "What are you waiting for—this is your specialty."
Miguel grabbed the sword—its blade scorched with energy.
"You maniac…" he muttered—and charged.
The monster noticed. It struggled, swinging wildly. The captain clung to it, letting it tear his flesh.
"Now—!"
Miguel dashed.
—Closer.
—Closer.
—NOW!
He leapt, fury and momentum in one thrust.
"SHATTER!!"
The sword pierced through the creature's back—right through its chest—and the captain behind it.
Time froze.
The monster wailed. Lights flickered. Energy spiraled—then burst, dissolving.
The captain's body trembled.
"Don't stop…" he whispered, "Let it… end clean…"
The creature collapsed.
Its frame broke apart. The glow died.
The captain sagged—impaled, bleeding, still smiling.
Miguel stood, shaking, gripping the sword.
The man who dragged him from lonely battles—was now gone.
"Hey…" the captain murmured, "Nice hit."
"…Shut up," Miguel choked. "Save your breath."
"The first time I saw you…" he wheezed, "I knew—you'd be the one to… show us light."
He paused.
"But light… gets tired too."
"So… let us… light a lantern… for you… once in a while."
"Don't—" Miguel's voice broke. "I don't need—"
"You do." A faint smile. "You are… our Radiance…"
"Thank you…"
His gaze unfocused.
"…our Radiance."
His hand slipped.
He fell silent, suspended between monster and blade.
Around them, silence reigned.
No reinforcements. No orders. No broadcast.
Only ruined earth, broken bodies, and a creature nailed to the wall.
And—
Miguel, standing amidst the blood and wreckage, sword still warm in hand.
Of Radiance Squad, he was the only one who walked out of that forbidden zone alive.