I still remember the day the world went to hell. Ten years ago, Earth was invaded by the Centauris—monstrous beings spilling through rifts from another dimension. The chaos was absolute. In those first brutal years, humanity was on the run, our cities crumbling as the invaders reshaped our world into a living battlefield. The gods—trapped in their own war against an interdimensional enemy—could only send us vessels, fragments of divine power, to hold the line. But even as the first and second raids scarred our planet, we learned that every portal held its own horrors.
My own story is no exception. I was only fourteen when the war took my parents from me—a senseless slaughter amid the relentless tide of destruction. In the aftermath, as I lay bleeding in the ruins of my home, something inside me awakened. They said it was a blessing from the gods—a spark of divine power that marked me as one of their vessels. I didn't understand it then; all I knew was that I had to survive.
Now, ten years later, I'm Thaddeus Veynir, and I fight as a member of Battle Group 530. We're twenty hardened souls pressed into service by the United Vanguard Corps, and I rank sixteenth among them—not for lack of strength or intelligence, but because my powers still refuse to bend to my will. I've honed my battle instincts and sharpened my mind on the grind of daily skirmishes, yet my magic remains erratic, my strength unpredictable. I haven't even begun to fathom the true depths of what I could become… or who might be watching from the shadows.
Today, our unit has been assigned to Gate 5845—a portal that's been emitting weak signals of Centauris activity. The scanners read it as a normal incursion: Centauris Type: Normal, Rank: E. Nothing too serious, they said. But in this war, even a "normal" threat can unravel everything.
I remember the briefing all too clearly. Our commander's voice was calm but firm as he relayed the orders over the comm system:
> "Battle Group 530, proceed to Gate 5845. Expected contact: minor Centauris incursion. Maintain formation and be alert for any anomalies."
A few of my companions exchanged smug glances. One of them—a cocky, brash fellow we all just call Companion 1—muttered, "Only weak E-rank scum? What a joke." His arrogance was typical of him, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of unease. In our line of work, the obvious was rarely all there was.
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At the Gate
We gathered at the edge of the makeshift outpost, where Gate 5845 loomed—a swirling, unstable rift of distorted light and energy, like a broken mirror reflecting a fractured world. The rest of Battle Group 530 formed a tight formation around the portal, weapons ready and eyes scanning the horizon.
I adjusted the strap of my pack, feeling the familiar weight of my uncertain power thrumming in my veins. I still couldn't control it fully, and every time I tried, it felt like wrestling with a wild beast. But discipline had its price, and I had learned to channel my focus, even when my magic sputtered in protest.
As we approached, my wrist-mounted scanner buzzed with a new alert:
> ALERT: Portal 3845 – Centauris Type: UNKNOWN, Rank: ???
The reading was off the charts—undefined, inexplicable. I glanced around at my team, and for a moment, the smug grins on their faces vanished. Our leader barked an order: "Hold! Do not engage until further notice."
My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was very wrong. Yet we pressed on. One by one, we stepped into the portal's murky threshold, our surroundings shifting into a desolate, twilight landscape that seemed to exist between worlds.
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Into the Unknown
Inside the portal, the world was eerily silent. The only indication of life came from the scanner—a single Centauris figure detected ahead. I exchanged a wary look with Companion 1.
"Only one?" he scoffed, his tone dripping with derision. "This has to be a mistake. Let me handle this." Without waiting for orders, he broke formation and strode forward, weapon raised and confidence blazing in his eyes.
I hesitated, my instincts screaming that something was amiss. Only one Centauris in an area that should be teeming with danger? It was too quiet, too controlled.
Before I could call out a warning, a flash of movement caught my eye. In an instant, Companion 1 was engulfed by a sudden burst of energy—a searing, invisible force that sliced him into countless fragments before my horrified eyes. One moment he was laughing, the next he was nothing but dismembered pieces drifting in the distorted wind. The sight was grotesque, surreal—a nightmare made flesh.
In the wake of his disintegration, the lone Centauris turned its gaze toward us. Its eyes glowed with an ominous, unworldly light, and an aura of dread radiated from its form. I felt the crushing weight of impending doom settle over me. This was no ordinary E-rank enemy. This was something… else.
I swallowed hard, my mind racing with questions and fears I couldn't yet name. Whatever force had just claimed Companion 1 was beyond anything we had encountered before—a harbinger of the unknown, a dark omen from the depths of that rift.