Nathan woke to the smell of mildly burnt bread and the persistent, deep-tissue ache of freshly fused ribs.
The apartment was quiet. Lucy had already left for school, her oversized backpack gone from its usual hook by the door. A folded sheet of notebook paper rested against the toaster on the kitchen counter, its surface covered in her neat, looping handwriting.
Toast’s in the kitchen. Don’t die today. —Luce
Nathan couldn’t help but smile, even if the movement tugged at his still-healing chest.
Some things, at least, never changed.
At the foot of his bed, Mirko and Kuro rested in their miniature forms—Mirko curled into a ball of green fluff, Kuro little more than an ink-black silhouette accented by sharp streaks of white. Neither, however, was truly asleep. Since the battle in the Whispering Dark, something had changed. Through their bond, Nathan could feel their vigilance at all times. Mirko’s presence burned with quiet determination, fiercely protective and ready to shield him at a moment’s notice. Kuro, by contrast, was unnervingly still, his consciousness like a drawn blade concealed in darkness, waiting for the slightest hint of danger.
"You’re awake," Mirko observed, her eyes remaining firmly shut. "Your skeletal structure is still healing. The guild healers were very clear—you’ve been ordered to stay in bed."
"I’ve been staring at the ceiling for three days," Nathan said, slowly swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. "I’m going stir-crazy."
Mental restlessness is vastly preferable to a punctured lung.
His interface chimed, saving him from the lecture. It was a high-priority ping from Valerie: Whispering Dark is off the table. TCA just claimed jurisdiction. Get to the guild. I have a replacement.
Nathan read the message twice.
His mind drifted back to the Whispering Dark—the suffocating void, the voices that mimicked his allies, the collapsing tunnels, and the crushing blow that had nearly caved in his chest. It was no longer their burden. The TCA had claimed jurisdiction and would quarantine the Tower while specialists assessed the damage. By the sound of it, months would pass before anyone attempted another clear.
One door had closed.
Now another was opening.
He stood up, biting back a wince. "New Tower and guild briefing. Let’s move."
You are impossible, Mirko sighed telepathically.
"I’m motivated," Nathan corrected, grabbing his jacket. "There’s a difference."
There is absolutely not.
✦ ✦ ✦
The Celestial Peak briefing room was bathed in the warm, golden light of the morning sun streaming through the observatory’s glass dome. Valerie sat at her desk, looking distinctly worse for wear. The shadows under her eyes had darkened significantly since she first received the intelligence regarding the Cleansing.
She wasn’t even drinking from her "TUFF GRANNY" mug. She was just staring at a heavy file on her desk.
"The Whispering Dark is officially a TCA quarantine zone," Valerie said without preamble as the party filed in. "They are attempting to defeat the roaming monsters and stabilise the subterranean fault lines. However, you still need six High Class clears before I even consider signing off on Drak’thar. So, you get a replacement."
She slid a fresh, thick dossier across the oak table. The holographic cover image flickered to life, displaying a structure utterly unlike the jagged stone and metal they were used to. It was a colossal, petrified tree trunk, bursting straight up through the pavement of a city grid. Its bark was woven with glowing, neon-green veins and choked by massive, flowering vines.
"Tower of the Verdant Monolith," Valerie briefed, her voice crisp. "High Class. Five floors. It’s located right here in the capital’s southern district, which means zero travel time. You can take the transit line and be at the portal in forty minutes."
She tapped the glowing image. "Do not let the aesthetics fool you. The interior is a claustrophobic, vertical jungle. It is entirely consumed by aggressive, sentient flora. Expect carnivorous vines, highly toxic spore clouds, and architecture that actively shifts as ancient roots grow and crush the stone pathways. The ecosystem itself is designed to compost trespassers."
Dillon leaned back, crossing his arms. "A sentient, carnivorous greenhouse. Lovely."
"The boss on Floor 5 is the Verdant Empress," Valerie continued, ignoring the samurai. "A massive, plant-humanoid hybrid that commands the Tower’s entire root network. She regenerates instantly from any damage that doesn’t completely obliterate her core. You will need fire, ice, or overwhelming blunt-force trauma to put her down permanently."
She looked pointedly at Garrett. "Volcan will be your primary clearing tool. Elise, your new staff will need to freeze the overgrowth. Dillon, your speed is the only thing that will keep you from being dragged into the canopy."
Nathan pulled the dossier toward him, scanning the environmental hazard list. "We’ll be ready. Vex has our new gear. We’re picking it up this morning."
Valerie nodded slowly, her sharp eyes studying Nathan’s stiff posture. "You’re at three clears. You conquer this, you’re at four. You are nearing the finish line." She paused, her voice dropping a fraction of an octave. "How is the ribcage, Cross?"
"Functional," Nathan said. "The fusions are holding."
"Do not push it," Valerie warned, leaning forward. "You are useless to me, to this guild, and to the outer regions if you re-injure yourself on Floor 1 because you were too stubborn to properly heal."
"I know."
"You don’t. You never do. But try to pretend." She waved a hand toward the door. "Dismissed. Good hunting."
✦ ✦ ✦
The TCA forge wing smelled wonderfully of hot iron, crushed coal, and ozone. Ember, the Molten Sprite, chirped happily as the party entered, diving through the ambient heat of the massive forge.
Vex was waiting for them, leaning against her heavy steel workbench with a satisfied, cocky smirk scarring her face.
"About time. These have been ready for two days," the smith grunted, wiping her soot-stained hands on a rag. "I was starting to think you’d forgotten about them. Or died in that underground collapse. Which would have been a tragic waste of my craftsmanship."
Nathan stepped up to the bench. Laid out across the dark velvet cloth were three pieces of equipment that practically hummed with contained magic.