The air inside the portal was thick with an oppressive energy, a suffocating weight that pressed down on every member of Battle Group 530. The grotesque sight of Companion 1's remains—scattered like ash in the wind—left the group paralyzed. The lone Centauris stood motionless, its glowing eyes piercing through the dim, otherworldly light. Its presence was a paradox: calm yet menacing, silent yet deafening in its aura of dread.
Sara, the group's tactical analyst, was the first to break the silence. Her voice trembled as she stared at her scanner, the readings flickering erratically. "This… this isn't an E-rank. It's not even an A-rank. This thing… it's beyond our classification system. It's something we've never seen before."
Johan, the youngest member of the group, clutched his weapon tightly, his knuckles white. "Are we… are we going to die?" he stammered, his voice barely audible over the low hum of the portal's energy.
The Centauris tilted its head, as if amused by their fear. Its voice echoed in their minds, a guttural, alien sound that bypassed their ears and resonated directly in their skulls. *"You cannot leave until I permit it, humans. If you wish to survive, you will give me what I desire."*
Michael, the group's second-in-command, stepped forward, his voice steady despite the terror in his eyes. "What do you want from us?"
The Centauris's lips curled into a grotesque semblance of a smile. *"Your companion's heart. You have one minute to decide."*
The demand hung in the air like a death sentence. The group exchanged frantic glances, their unity fraying under the weight of the impossible choice. One member, a man named Harris, suddenly lunged at another, his blade piercing through his comrade's chest. The victim gasped, blood bubbling from his lips as he collapsed to the ground.
"I'm sorry!" Harris cried, tears streaming down his face. "I have a family! I have to live! I promised my daughter!"
The group recoiled in horror, their bonds of trust shattered in an instant. The Centauris watched with detached amusement, its glowing eyes flickering with satisfaction. *"One heart. How… disappointing."*
Before anyone could react, the Centauris raised a clawed hand. The air around it shimmered, and a massive sword materialized from thin air, its blade crackling with dark energy. In the blink of an eye, it moved, its form a blur as it began cutting through the group with terrifying precision.
Thaddeus stood frozen, his mind racing. His erratic powers surged within him, a chaotic storm that refused to obey his commands. He could feel the weight of his inadequacy pressing down on him, the knowledge that he was the weakest link in the group. And yet, as the Centauris turned its gaze toward him, he felt something stir deep within—a flicker of defiance, a spark of something he couldn't name.
The Centauris's sword was inches from his chest when time seemed to slow. Thaddeus's vision blurred, the world around him fading into a haze of light and shadow. He could feel the cold steel piercing his flesh, the pain sharp and immediate. And then… darkness.
---
### Outside the Portal
At the United Vanguard Corps headquarters, alarms blared as the system detected the anomaly at Gate 5845. The command center was a flurry of activity, officers scrambling to make sense of the data flooding their screens.
"What the hell is going on?" demanded General Alden, his voice cutting through the chaos. "Who's at that gate?"
A technician quickly pulled up the information. "It's Battle Group 530, sir. They're a Level 1 vessel unit led by Jimmy Parker."
Alden's face paled. "Level 1? They're not equipped to handle something like this. Is there an S-rank vessel nearby?"
"We're checking, sir. The nearest S-rank is at least twenty minutes out."
"Send them immediately!" Alden barked. "And get me a status update on that gate. What's happening inside?"
The technician hesitated, his voice trembling. "Sir… the gate is sealed. Some kind of powerful magic is blocking all entry. We can't get a visual, but the energy readings… they're off the charts. This might be a national-level threat."
Alden clenched his fists, his mind racing. "Gods help them," he muttered under his breath.
---
### Inside the Portal
Thaddeus's consciousness flickered in and out, his body numb and unresponsive. He could hear distant voices, muffled and indistinct, as if speaking through water. The pain in his chest was gone, replaced by a strange, hollow sensation.
"Don't close your eyes! Try to breathe! We'll save you!"
The voice was familiar, but he couldn't place it. His vision blurred, the world around him a swirl of light and shadow. He felt hands on his chest, pressing down, trying to stem the flow of blood.
"Doctor, is he going to make it?" someone asked, their voice frantic.
A figure in a white coat leaned over him, their face obscured by a mask. "I'm trying to stabilize his divine core, but… I can't find it. There's nothing there."
The words sent a jolt through Thaddeus, cutting through the fog in his mind. *No divine core?* That was impossible. Every vessel had a divine core—a fragment of the gods' power that granted them their abilities. Without it, they were just ordinary humans.
"Are you saying he's not a vessel?" the voice asked, disbelief evident.
The doctor hesitated, their hands still pressed against Thaddeus's chest. "I don't know what he is, but… he's not like the others. There's no trace of divine energy in him."
Thaddeus's mind reeled, the implications of the doctor's words sinking in. If he wasn't a vessel, then how had he survived this long? How had he wielded even the erratic powers he'd struggled to control? And if the gods hadn't chosen him… then who had?
As the darkness closed in around him, Thaddeus felt a strange sense of clarity. The answers he sought were out there, hidden in the shadows of the war-torn world. And if he survived this, he would find them—no matter the cost.