The crew clustered around as the portal’s details popped up on everyone’s interface. My eyes locked on the screen, and my pulse skipped a beat when I read the environmental hazard.


    Chemical warfare. Great.


    My scout suit suddenly felt a little tight. I''d gone into environmental hazards before, but that was all below level 60, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t already running mental calculations on whether it’d hold up. It was designed for stealth and mobility, not hazmat duty. But hell, I’d figure it out. I always did.


    Ryan let out a loud groan, dragging a hand down his face. “Chemical warfare? Seriously? Why can’t these portals ever just be full of kittens or something?”


    “You want to face a swarm of toxic kittens?” Joey asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because honestly, I wouldn’t put it past this planet or the System. This is typical System bullshit."


    Emily crossed her arms, frowning at the display. “Level 64 chemical warfare…” Her voice was tight and controlled, but I could see the way her fingers flexed. “We don’t even have full TL9 armor sets. If our seals don’t hold, if this stuff is corrosive, or worse, neurological, we won’t last a minute in there.”


    Joey shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”


    Emily’s eyes focused on me, something unreadable behind her eyes. "That’s the real question, isn’t it? Do we actually need to go in there? Or do we skip this one and find a safer option?”


    I exhaled sharply, already tired of this argument. “We’ve dealt with worse.” A half-truth. We’d dealt with plenty of shit, sure, like Venus and it''s 800 degree temperature for like a second or two between the portal and the transport. But hey, we made it. A little chemical warfare? Just another day on the job. Backing out now? Not an option.


    Zoe’s voice cut through their complaints like a blade, her tone sharp with excitement. “Oh, quit whining, you bunch of babies.” She slung her plasma rifle over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming as she studied the swirling portal. “This is what we signed up for. High stakes, big risks, bigger rewards. You think chemical warfare scares me? Please.”


    I smirked, feeling her energy ripple through me. She got it. She always got it. Infiltration missions weren’t just work; they were a drug, a rush that hit harder than anything else. “Glad someone’s got the right attitude,” I said, catching her eye. “Ready to dance, Woods?”


    Her grin widened. “Always. What’s life without a little danger?”


    Ryan rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about adrenaline junkies, but I barely heard him. My focus was on the portal and the challenge waiting beyond it. The rest of the crew? They’d get their heads in the game once we were inside.


    For now, it was just me and Zoe riding that high, already a step ahead.


    "Alright," I said, turning to the crew. "We don''t know what''s on the other side, so we''re going in prepared for anything. Check your armor, make sure your seals are tight. Double-check your weapons, and make sure your energy cells are topped off. Once we''re through, we''ll assess the situation and make a plan. Stick together, keep your eyes open, and try not to breathe anything nasty."


    Still, a flicker of doubt crept in as I adjusted my suit. Was it enough? The scout suit was reliable, hell, it’d saved my ass more times than I could count, but it wasn’t designed for this. I could feel the frayed edges of its capabilities every time I pushed it past its limits. I’d be fine, though. I had to be. The thought of lagging behind, of not being able to keep up, wasn’t an option. Not with Zoe practically vibrating with excitement beside me.


    "Easy for you to say," Ryan muttered. "You and Zoe get the fancy scout suits. We''re stuck in these bulky things." He gestured to his medium combat armor, then to Emily''s.


    "These offer more protection," Emily pointed out, always the pragmatist. "And your engineering skills are more important than your fashion sense, Ryan."


    "Speak for yourself," Zoe said, adjusting the fit of her scout suit with a smirk. "Some of us can manage both."


    I shook my head. "Alright, enough chatter. Let''s gear up. We''re going in."


    <hr>


    I took a moment to check my own gear. My scout suit felt familiar and comfortable, snug as usual. I ran my hand along the edge of my energy tomahawk, feeling the faint hum of its blade. My weapons were an extension of myself, and I was intimately familiar with their weight and balance. I trusted them. It was the damn chemical hazard that had me on edge.


    "You okay?" Emily asked, stepping up beside me. Her voice was soft, her eyes full of concern.


    "Yeah," I said, meeting her eyes. "Just thinking."


    "About the chemicals?"


    "About everything," I admitted. "This feels... different. Bigger, somehow."


    Zoe rejoined us, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Alright, you guys ready to do this?"


    I took a deep breath, pushing aside my doubts and letting the familiar thrill of anticipation wash over me. This was it. Time to see what the System had cooked up for us this time.


    "Let''s go," I said, my voice steady and determined.


    We gathered at the edge of the portal, the swirling energy casting strange shadows on our faces. The crew looked at me all excited. They trusted me to lead them, to make the right calls. And I trusted them to have my back, no matter what.


    "Alright, team," I said, my voice amplified through the comms. "Let''s move. And remember, keep those visors down until we know what we''re dealing with."


    I stayed behind for a moment, my eyes fixed on the portal. The glow was steady, pulsing faintly, almost like it was waiting for us. I swallowed hard, running my hand along the edge of my scout suit.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    Was this thing really going to hold up against chemical hazards? It was good tech, but it wasn’t exactly cutting-edge anymore. Still, I wasn’t about to sit this one out. This was my class, my element. I thrived on this stuff, sneaking, infiltrating, breaking into places we weren’t supposed to be. The thrill of it was like a drug, and I was hooked.


    And with that, I stepped through the portal, into the unknown.


    <hr>


    The world shifted as we walked through, that familiar, stomach-lurching weightlessness grabbing hold for a second before we landed, solid and steady, on the other side. I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the dim, hazy light. The forest of New Dawn was gone. Instead, we stood on a rocky ledge, overlooking what could only be described as a sprawling, ruined military base.


    The place was massive, stretching out like a fortress from some dystopian nightmare. Crumbling walls and fortified towers jutted out of the thick, yellow-green mist, their jagged edges silhouetted against a dull gray sky.


    A haze distorted everything, making the distant structures seem to shift and sway like they were underwater. It reminded me of old castles I’d seen in Europe, once powerful, now battered by time and whatever hell had landed here.


    Movement caught my eye along the perimeter. Small figures were pacing back and forth, stopping occasionally to adjust something or scan the area. I raised a hand, signaling the crew to stop, my heart already thumping harder as I activated my helmet''s integrated HUD and zoomed in.


    The image sharpened, and I got my first good look at the figures. Humanoid, but not human. They were tall, lean, and covered in sleek, dark fur. Their faces, behind clear masks, were sharp, almost rodent-like. Weasels, I thought, though that didn’t quite fit. And they weren’t primitive, far from it.


    They carried weapons that gleamed even through the mist, their armor sleek and fitted perfectly to their wiry bodies. It was impossible to tell what they were thinking, what they were feeling. They moved with a fluid grace that was both unsettling and mesmerizing.


    I ran my analyze skill on one of them:


    [Varnathi Skirmisher] - Level 64


    Temperament: Cunning, Inquisitive, Opportunistic


    Description: Sleek, humanoid with fur-covered, sinewy frames.


    That''s it? That''s all the info I get? Where''s the details, special abilities, weaknesses?


    I scowled at the lack of details. Level, temperament, and a vague-ass description? I had a whole-ass ability dedicated to this, and the System still wanted to play coy?


    I ran [Enhanced Inspect], hoping for a deeper breakdown. My interface flickered, lines of data scrolling before snapping into focus.


    [Varnathi Skirmisher] – Level 64


    Classification: Mid-tier Infantry Unit


    Threat Level: Moderate (Escalates with Group Size)


    Observed Combat Behavior: Prefers ambush tactics and hit-and-run engagements. Agile and difficult to pin down. Frequently employs plasma-based melee weaponry and compact firearms.


    Armor Rating: Lightweight adaptive plating. Resistant to small arms fire; vulnerable to concussive force and energy disruption.


    Abilities: Unknown.


    Better. Still vague as hell, but at least now I knew what I was looking at. Their armor was TL9, which meant these weren’t just some random scavengers playing dress-up with old tech, they had gear that was straight-up better than ours. Not a comforting thought.


    I swallowed hard, my voice steady but low as I whispered into the comms. “Hold position. We’ve got company.”


    “Well, this is new,” Zoe muttered over the comms, her voice crackling slightly in my ear. “Furries with plasma guns. That’s a first.”


    “Yeah, and they look like they know how to use them,” I replied, my tone sharp. My eyes scanned the base, trying to get a sense of the layout, the defenses, the potential entry points. "We''re not going in through the front gate," I murmured, more to myself than to the others.


    "So, what''s the plan?" Chris''s voice crackled through the comms, tense but controlled. "We can''t just stand here all day."


    Ryan’s voice cut through the comms, steady and decisive. “Alright, listen up. Luca and Zoe, you two are going in first. Light, fast, and quiet. Your job is to find a way to open that main gate from the inside and disable any automated defenses. If things go sideways, exfil and regroup. Don’t try to be heroes.”


    I adjusted my grip on my rifle, shifting my weight as he talked. Ryan was good at this. Too good. The way he took control, rattling off orders without hesitation, like he was built for it. And maybe he was. Back on the ship, I called the shots. Out here, in the thick of it, when plans and tactics mattered more than gut instinct? This was Ryan’s wheelhouse.


    It was impressive. A little annoying, too.


    “Sounds like a party,” Zoe quipped, the grin evident in her voice.


    Ryan ignored her. “The rest of us hold position near the gate, out of sight. We don’t know what kind of sensors they’re running, and we’re not about to find out the hard way. The second that gate opens, we move in fast and hit hard.”


    I clenched my jaw, swallowing down the urge to say something. Maybe make a joke. Maybe push back, just a little. But what was I gonna do? Argue? The plan was solid. Hell, I probably would’ve said the same thing, just… not as smooth. Not with that natural confidence that made people listen.


    He turned to Emily. “Emily, I need you on overwatch. Find a vantage point and cover their approach. Use those blasters of yours to pick off any stragglers, but don’t fire unless necessary. We don’t want to draw heat until we’re committed.”


    “Copy that,” Emily said, her voice even, but I caught the flicker of tension underneath. She didn’t love this. Neither did I. But we were doing it anyway.


    “Danny, Chris, you’re with me,” Ryan continued. “We set up a defensive position, but stay mobile. If we need to, we’ll create a diversion or lay down suppressing fire.”


    Danny let out a low exhale. “Got it.”


    “We’ll be ready,” Chris added, ever steady.


    Ryan shifted his focus. “Joey, stick close. We’re counting on you to keep people patched up. And try not to get shot.”


    Joey let out a dry chuckle. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”


    Ryan gave the plan one final once-over, then nodded. “Alright. Luca, Zoe, you’re up. Let’s get this done.”


    I took a slow breath, shaking off the weight that had settled in my gut. This was how it always went. Ryan took command, and I did my part. And yeah, it made sense, this was his thing. But that part of me, the part that ran on instinct and impulse, hated being the one following instead of leading. Hated feeling like I was a step behind.


    I turned to Zoe, masking the frustration behind an easy smirk. “Ready to make them look slow?”


    Her grin widened. “Always.”


    <hr>


    I took one last look at the base, my eyes scanning the perimeter, searching for a weakness, an entry point. The haze made it difficult, but there, to the left, I spotted a section of wall that looked more damaged than the rest, with what appeared to be a collapsed section of an old watchtower. It was a long shot, but it might just work. An opening, maybe? Or a way to climb over?


    "Alright, Zoe," I murmured, turning to her. And fuck, she looked good. Pitch black scout suit, hugging every curve, blending seamlessly into the dark like she belonged there. Confident, dangerous, sexy as all hell. She radiated that sharp, predatory energy, like she was meant for moments like this.


    I forced my brain to focus. Not the time, Rossi.


    "Let''s check it out," I continued, voice lower. "Visors down, stay low, and don’t breathe in any of this chemical crap. We don’t know what it does yet, and I’d rather not find out. Keep it quiet, keep it clean. We’re in and out before they even know we’re here." And let''s hope my suit holds up.


    Zoe grinned, her eyes gleaming with excitement behind her visor. "Just the way I like it." Damn, she''s fearless. Or maybe just crazy.


    I nodded, tightening the straps on my gear and double-checking my weapons. My tomahawk rested at my side, and my blaster strapped to my waist. My rifle? My pulse quickened, the familiar focus sharpening my senses. This was the kind of challenge that made everything else fade away.


    I moved first, slipping forward into the mist.


    Zoe followed, silent as a shadow.


    And just before we vanished into the dark, her voice crackled through the private comms, low and teasing. "Try to keep up, Scout Leader."


    Shit.


    This mission was going to be dangerous in more ways than one.