At the military base serving as the command center for border defense in the southern part of the wild zone, transport planes touched down, delivering the Vaultbreakers participating in the third exploration mission.


    The moment the Vaultbreakers stepped on solid ground, the more experienced and high-ranking members clustered together, switching their comms to a private frequency.


    Beyond the base’s borders, remnants of once-suspended highways lay in ruins. These bridges, which once ensured smooth and fast travel regardless of the terrain below, were now nothing more than crumbling pillars.


    The lake beneath them teemed with beasts, while others prowled through the overgrown fields and hilly remnants of old farmlands.


    “Listen up!” Grange’s voice rang through everyone’s comms as his silver-winged Exo-Rig stepped forward. As the team leader of Epigron Magnus, he addressed the assembled group with authority. “We’ll split into smaller teams. I’m sure each of you came here with your own mission in mind. Moving as a single group of 54 will only attract powerful beasts and make stealth impossible.”


    “I agree with Grange. Splitting up will be more effective,” said Shay-Zu, Captain of the Davaliris Union’s exploration team.


    “That’s right,” added Franklin, captain of the Moshero Beta Group. “If anyone runs into danger, the nearest team will provide backup. Does that work for everyone?”


    A freelancer named Bozok stepped forward. “So how do we decide these teams?”


    “The Union members will stick together,” Grange replied. “We were sent here with specific missions. As for the rest of you, team up however you want—but let’s be clear about one thing.” His gaze swept over the freelancers. “No stepping on each other’s toes. That means no poaching loot from major ground bosses and no encroaching on another group’s hunting zone.”


    Bozok scoffed. “So the big Unions get to act on their own, while the rest of us scramble for whatever’s left? And what about these ‘zones’—do we get to choose where we go?”


    “Yes,” Grange confirmed. “My team will head slightly west of the city before advancing further.” With a flick of his wrist, he projected a holographic map, marking his intended route.


    At first glance, the map seemed unremarkable—plain, unmarked, and lacking details on wild beast territories. But those with the right connections, particularly among the influential Unions, could read between the lines.


    Grange’s chosen path led straight to the nest of the Spartan Grovers—a quadrupedal beast resembling a triceratops that laid valuable eggs.


    Individually, a Spartan Grover was classified as a B-rank threat, but in groups, their danger level could escalate to A or even S if they entered a berserk state together. However, their eggs, shells, thick flux veins, and even the long muscle fibers along their spines were highly valuable.


    But was Grange really planning to raid the nest with just his seven-man team?


    Shay-Zu wasn’t so sure about that.


    But in any case, all the major Unions had their own agenda for this place. Prying into another team’s business wasn’t his job—though he wouldn’t mind knowing Grange’s plan. Maybe even stealing whatever his team was after, be it valuable items or important information.


    “Then we’ll head straight forward,” Shay-Zu said, drawing an arrow on the holographic map, marking a path toward the city’s center.


    “You plan on going that far?” Grange’s voice came through the comms.


    “I don’t believe my actions are any of your concern, Captain,” Shay-Zu replied coolly.


    “No, of course not. Just curious,” Grange chuckled. “With the strength of your team, reaching the center shouldn’t be a problem… though whether you survive the journey is another matter entirely.”


    Shay-Zu smirked. “No need for concern, Captain Grange. If anything, we might be the ones collecting your remains from a beast’s nest. I hope you’ve done plenty of good deeds before coming here—otherwise, your karma might keep you in this place forever.”


    Grange scoffed. “Does Captain Zu still believe in childhood superstitions? Oh, I forgot—you also believe in ghosts and energy retribution. For someone who’s seen how the system really works, you sure cling to outdated convictions.”


    “I’m not sure which of us is truly blind,” Shay-Zu countered. “If you’ve abandoned the old ways and put faith only in what today offers, then you’re nothing more than a rootless man with no sense of tomorrow.”


    “Enough, both of you,” Franklin interjected, stepping between them. “We’ve got our own objective.” He marked a circle on the map near Shay-Zu’s arrow. Unlike Grange’s mark, which edged toward the city’s core, Franklin’s was closer to the periphery.


    “Two more Unions are participating in this mission,” Franklin continued, shifting the conversation. “Aspiro-NGR will be coming from the western base, while Richter will start from the northern base and, if my intel is correct, also head toward the city center.”


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    “Yes, I know that much,” Grange said. “But what about Aspiro? Any word on their destination?”


    “No,” Shay-Zu answered. The rest remained silent.


    “Very well. Good luck to you all,” Grange said, shutting off the hologram and taking his leave.


    “Eh, Eden!” A familiar voice crackled into his comms. It was a private channel—none of the others seemed to hear it. “How have you been?”


    A slight push on his shoulder made Eden turn.


    “Well, well,” Eden said. “Looks like I’m not the only one who got their hands on a Skyborn suit.”


    “Did you doubt me?” Arnold smirked.


    “Not really. But how did you recognize me? I don’t recall sending you a picture of my suit.”


    “I came across your profile while browsing the market,” Arnold joked. “I even know what you look like and where you live.” His smirk widened. “That’s why I told you to join my Union. No matter how talented you are, without a strong Union backing you, you’ll hit a ceiling. There are things you simply can’t achieve alone.”


    “Yeah, I’ll think about it,” Eden replied, giving Arnold a firm pat on the back. “Good luck out there.”


    “You too,” Arnold said before heading off to join Grange and the rest of his team.


    As Eden watched him disappear into the distance, another transmission crackled inside his helmet.


    “Hey, Skyborn, do you copy?”


    Eden turned, scanning his surroundings, before spotting Bozok motioning for him to come closer.


    “Yes?”


    “I see you’re not tagging along with the other groups,” Bozok noted, gesturing toward the departing squads.


    “No,” Eden confirmed.


    Bozok studied him for a moment, then asked, “How old are you?”


    “Does it matter?”


    “Yes. Your voice sounds too young. Do you have any field experience?”


    “This is my first mission. I passed the solo test last week.”


    Bozok let out a sharp exhale. “Your first mission? Shit.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Alright, what about that suit? You any good with it?”


    Eden activated his holographic display, revealing his B-grade piloting rank and C-rank combat proficiency.


    “Not the best, but I manage,” he said.


    Bozok studied the stats before nodding. “That might do. Are you here for experience or materials?”


    “Both.”


    “Alright. We’re heading east—it’s less crowded,” Bozok said, gesturing toward a small group of four behind him. “Interested in joining us? Having another Skyborn on the team would help with recognition.”


    Eden glanced at the group. Their armor and gear weren’t much different from those of the Union squads. Another Skyborn stood among them, while the rest wielded Zion rifles and neon weapons similar to his own.


    “Are you all freelancers?” Eden asked.


    “No. Just the two of us,” Bozok said, nodding toward another man. “Those two are from a smaller Union, and that one just joined a newly formed one. What about you?”


    “Arnold invited me to join his, but I’m skeptical,” Eden admitted, watching for Bozok’s reaction.


    “Arnold? The guy from Grange’s squad?”


    “Yeah.”


    Bozok raised a brow. “You do realize they’re from the top Union in the country, right?”


    Eden smirked. That was exactly the response he’d expected. He wasn’t looking for praise—mentioning Arnold’s invitation was a calculated move, one that would make Bozok see him as someone with value. Someone not to be treated as a mere scout or errand boy.


    “So what if they’re at the top?” Eden shrugged. “They’ve got their own problems, don’t they? I’m just not sure they’re the right fit for me.”


    Bozok chuckled. “Hah. It’s smart to be cautious with a choice like that. You value your freedom, huh?”


    “Yeah.”


    Bozok nodded approvingly. “Alright then. So, you coming with us?”


    “Yes,” Eden said, extending a hand. “By the way, I’m Eden.”


    “Bozok,” he replied, shaking it firmly.


    . . .


    After leaving the base, the group of six advanced steadily through the wild zone. The terrain was rugged, a mixture of cracked roads, overgrown ruins, and twisted remnants of the past denizens. They navigated cautiously, avoiding unnecessary conflicts with the wildlife that prowled the area.


    By the end of the first day, they had covered significant ground, and the distant silhouette of the ruined city loomed ahead. With nightfall approaching and the increased risk of predators emerging from the shadows, they decided to set up camp.


    They took shelter beneath the remains of a collapsed water tower, its rusted frame providing partial cover. Around the perimeter, they set up motion sensors to detect movement, while small automated turrets were positioned to guard the entrance.


    As the group sat around the flickering glow of a contained energy lantern, the only sounds were the quiet rustling of ration packets and the occasional clink of metal against metal. Each member ate and drank from their supplies, engaging in idle chatter, though their conversations held an undercurrent of caution.


    From time to time, subtle glances were thrown in Eden’s direction—some curious, others unreadable. He had removed his helmet to eat, exposing his youthful face, which only fueled their silent assessments.


    A fresh recruit, a Skyborn, and a virean. He was like an anomaly among them.


    A single sentinel was assigned to stand watch, rotating shifts once per night. Despite the exhaustion settling over the camp, no one truly slept soundly that night. Helmets remained on, save for brief moments when one dared to pull it off for a sip of water.


    Every now and then, shifting bodies and flickering visors betrayed the same unspoken tension—no one trusted each other completely. It wasn’t just the wilderness they had to guard against. It was each other.


    Traveling with strangers always carried risks. Some might be honorable, dependable allies. Others… not so much. And there was no mark upon a man’s forehead to distinguish the two.


    But Eden was different.


    While his body rested, his spirit exited the body. His trustworthy companion, Vex, kept watch over his physical form, while Eden''s spirit roamed. Suspended above the camp like an unseen specter, he trained—his ethereal form wielding his illusory blade, slicing through the invisible foes of the night.


    Not being able to seal a deal with the Warden of the Akasha Library had been a setback. But wasted time was a greater loss. Blacking out could wait. Training, planning, and scanning the area were far more valuable then losing consciousness while sleeping.


    At dawn, the group broke camp and resumed their trek toward the city.


    Eden’s chest tightened as they passed between the crumbling remains of Kew Dew. Towering skyscrapers had long since fallen, their shattered bones now claimed by sprawling vegetation. What had once been a thriving metropolis was now an untamed frontier—a graveyard for the past, where only the desperate or the fearless dared to walk.


    Signs of previous explorers littered the path. Shattered armor plates. Broken weapons. Scattered supplies, left behind in panicked retreats—or worse, final stands.


    I had the same plan back then. Eden thought grimly. To come here as soon as possible and try my luck at finding something valuable.


    He exhaled slowly, glancing at a ruined helmet half-buried in the dirt. How na?ve I was to think I could do that without proper preparation.


    The remnants didn’t belong to the military or the high-tech Vaultbreakers. Their crude design suggested they had once belonged to fortune seekers—those who had gambled everything for the promise of riches.


    And lost.