EPISODE THREE

Episode 3- Welcome, Black Knights!

The low hum of heavy machinery vibrated through the ground as towering cranes shifted steel beams into place. Dust clouds swirled in the chilled afternoon air, the clang of metal against metal echoing across the construction site. Workers in hard hats and reflective vests bustled about, their shouts cutting through the mechanical roar.

Then—without warning—the air twisted.

A shimmering fracture tore reality apart mid-air, right above the scaffolding. The rip pulsed, swirling like liquid glass, before stabilizing into a perfect, ominous circle. A cold gust whooshed outward, carrying the faint smell of ozone and something far older—earthy and wild, like ancient forests long forgotten.

"IT'S A GATE!"

One of the foremen staggered backward, nearly tripping over a toolbox. "Somebody call the G.G.R.D.A.C.C!"

But before the words could fully escape his mouth, streaks of black cut through the dust.

A squad of hunters dropped through the air, landing in practiced formation around the gate. Their armored boots slammed into the ground with heavy thuds, dust curling at their feet. The emblem of the Black Knight Guild—a jet-black helm pierced by a silver spear—gleamed across their breastplates.

"Damn," one of the construction workers muttered, pulling off his helmet. "There goes our bonus."

Another spat into the dirt. "No kidding. Used to be the Global Gate Research, Discovery, and Classification Unit paid top yen for gate sightings." He jerked his chin toward the hunters, now securing the perimeter. "Now the guilds hog everything."

Above them, the swirling gate flickered with unstable energy.

"Times have changed," the older worker sighed. "Ever since the castles lost their hold two years back, it's been a free-for-all."

He wasn't wrong.

Japan's once-powerful Fifteen Castles—ancient bloodlines that had ruled the spiritual veins of the land—had splintered, no longer the sole conduits for portal emergence. With gates tearing into reality across random locations, the balance of power had shifted.

And the guilds rose from the ashes of tradition.

"Now it's all about which guild gets there first," the younger worker grunted, wiping sweat from his brow.

The Black Knight hunters spread out, their weapons shimmering with energy-enhanced steel—massive broadswords, glistening halberds, and sleek, rune-etched rifles.

"Which one's leading this hunt?"

"Looks like Captain Ryo."

At the edge of the gate, a tall figure stepped forward. Black armor gleamed under the afternoon sun, the crimson edge of his cape fluttering in the wind. A curved nodachi rested against his back—Moonbreaker, a blade rumored to have been forged from shattered gate cores.

"Ryo Kagemura." The name passed through the workers like static.

He raised a gauntleted hand, and the gate pulsed in response.

"Let's clean this up before G.G.R.D.A.C.C. even gets a sniff," Ryo commanded, his voice clipped and cold.

The construction foreman sighed heavily. "Of course. Guilds move faster than the damn government."

The conversation shifted, the workers huddled around crates, watching from a distance.

"Back in the day, the Fifteen Castles decided everything," the older man began, his voice heavy with nostalgia. "Now? It's all about the guilds. Remember when portals were rare? Controlled?"

"Now they're popping up like weeds," another spat.

The formation of the major guilds was common knowledge, but every worker knew the messy politics beneath the surface.

Iron Fury Guild—a powerhouse forged from the unity of three old families, relentless and industrial.

Fire Dragon Guild—born from four families, known for their sheer destructive force.

Black Knight Guild—a shadowy alliance of three families, specializing in surgical strikes and covert ops.

Glory Hunters Guild—run by a single, stubborn family refusing alliances.

Dragon Hold Guild—another lone wolf, though more mercenary than family-driven.

Purple Phoenix Guild—a blend of three strategic families, famed for their magic-heavy hunters.

These guilds didn't just control the gates—they controlled the economy. The Global Gate Authority Commission (G.G.A.C.) was supposed to keep things balanced. But with its three bloated divisions—Assessment & Registration, Exchange & Armory, and Research & Discovery—it was bureaucratic at best, toothless at worst.

"Akihiko Kanagawa runs the show," the older man grumbled. "But even he can't stop the guilds from monopolizing sites like this."

"Yeah. Iron Fury's been buying out entire city blocks just for potential gates."

"Noticed that too, huh? Top contender these days."

Their attention snapped back to the gate. The Black Knight hunters had finished their prep—runes flared to life beneath their feet, casting eerie shadows across the cracked pavement.

Then, with a low hum, the gate flared open—its swirling surface deepening into a void-like maw.

Ryo Kagemura unsheathed Moonbreaker, the massive blade slicing the air with a high-pitched shriek.

"Let's make this quick. Let's make the guild master proud!"

The hunters dove in, swallowed by the glowing abyss.

The foreman shook his head. "Not even a damn minute to report it."

"Doesn't matter," the younger worker muttered. "The guilds always get what they want."

The gate pulsed one last time before it stabilized, a shimmering tear between worlds.