Chapter 9: Orders in Chaos

The alarm still echoed in the halls of Zarek Technologies as the cafeteria emptied out, its once warm and light-hearted atmosphere replaced with cold urgency. The break was over.

Now, it was chaos.

Techs and operatives flooded the corridors, hands full of gear, tablets lighting up with incoming data, and voices overlapping in quick reports. Monitors flashed red, projecting holographic rift maps, energy spikes, and estimated impact zones. The tension was thick enough to cut through.

"Confirmed Class-B instability near Sector 17," one of the command staff shouted. "Potential escalation to Class-A if left unchecked."

"Mobilize the Vanguard Corps," Evelyn Zarek ordered, striding into Command like a storm in motion. Her calm was razor-sharp, unshaken. "Containment units follow and set a perimeter. I want the Hazard Recovery Team on standby. And get eyes in the sky—immediately."

Her voice carried authority, crisp and unwavering. Screens reflected in her eyes as she quickly analyzed the expanding data.

From a side terminal, Quinn Reyes watched silently. His arms were crossed, posture rigid as ever, but his eyes flicked toward the energy graphs on display. "We're already too late for a clean suppression. That spike didn't come from nowhere."

"Something breached," Evelyn muttered, tapping through surveillance feeds. "But this time, Lucian and Rowan stay here."

Quinn raised an eyebrow. "You sure? Rowan's syncing with Lucian better than ever."

"I'm sure," Evelyn replied, her tone firm. "They've had two back-to-back rift emergencies. We need their heads clear. If this escalates, I want them ready to jump into the worst-case scenario—not burnt out on the sidelines."

Across the room, the massive holo-table lit up with team markers shifting across the city map. Rowan and Lucian watched from behind a glass panel, Lucian's arms folded across his chest.

"Tch," he muttered. "You'd think I was made of glass."

Rowan leaned against the panel beside him. "I think she's just trying not to break her favorite weapon."

Lucian smirked faintly, but his gaze remained locked on the operation unfolding below.

"Vanguard Corps is in position," someone called.

Alexander Hawke's signature lit up on the display, leading the charge. Behind him, Juno Fletcher's tracker zipped into formation.

From another direction, Ari Winters dashed across a landing pad, already suited in reinforced armor. Quinn gave her a nod through the glass before turning back to Evelyn.

"She'll hold the flank. Vanguard will punch through. RCU buys time, Sentinels mop up."

"This is their first full-op without Rowan and Lucian up front," Evelyn said, tapping in commands. "Time to see if our system works the way we built it."

Outside, VTOL* crafts lifted into the air, their engines roaring against the skyline. Rift distortion shimmered in the distance, like a wound bleeding light and shadow into the clouds.

Inside Zarek Technologies, the calm was gone. Orders flew. Maps updated. Rifles charged. Teams moved.

And Lucian Vaughn, the most dangerous weapon they had, stood behind the glass, watching others go to war in his place.

Rowan turned his gaze toward him, eyes calm. "You okay sitting this one out?"

Lucian didn't answer at first. Then: "I hate this."

"Me too," Rowan replied.

Together, they watched the battle begin.

The wind howled as the transport touched down on the edge of Sector 17. The moment the door hissed open, the Vanguard Corps was already moving.

Alexander Hawke stepped out first, the worn handle of his signature axe strapped across his back. His footsteps were thunder on concrete as he surveyed the destruction ahead. The rift had torn through a commercial block—glass shattered, vehicles overturned, and warped shadows slithering along the edges of broken structures.

Behind him, Juno Fletcher leapt from the transport, fiery sparks humming with charged energy wrapping her palms. "Smells like burnt ozone and bad decisions," she muttered.

"Eyes open," Alexander rumbled. "Stay tight."

RCU officers were already on the ground, their portable stabilization towers humming with violet light. Each one was designed to anchor rift energy, slowing the spread and giving teams time to fight. But this one... this rift was wrong.

"Containment towers at 40% efficiency," came the report over comms. "We can't slow the spread. The corruption layer's too dense."

"Fall back to secondary perimeter," Ari Winters barked as she joined them, spinning her dual daggers in her palms. Her armor gleamed under the harsh lights of the containment field, and her eyes were locked on the shadows coalescing near the rift.

"We've got visuals," one of the techs called. "Creatures emerging—non-standard biology. Watch for irregular movement patterns."

And then they came.

Riftspawn—black-skinned, multi-limbed creatures with glowing veins of corruption and too many eyes—poured from the gash in space, screeching as they lunged.

"Engage!" Alexander roared.

His axe swung in a deadly arc, cleaving through the first creature that lunged. Sparks flew. Flesh tore. Blood—thick and iridescent—splashed across his armor.

Juno danced around the beasts, flicking her wrists, crackling with fiery energy. One sweep of her arm, and a riftspawn's chest exploded into flames. "Let's make this quick, boys!"

Ari surged forward, slicing with lightning speed, her blades leaving glowing trails in the air. She ducked low, sweeping the legs out from another, finishing it with a slash that cratered the street.

"Containment stabilizing at 60%," the RCU commed in. "Keep pushing—we might be able to anchor the edge."

"Sentinels, sweep the right wing!" Ari shouted.

From behind a crumbling wall, Sentinel Division operatives appeared—each Esper moving in tandem with their Guides who remained a safe distance away, channeling calming energy into their partners. The Espers moved in unison, forming a barrier of precision attacks and defensive formations.

Back at HQ, Rowan could feel the pulse of energy through the broadcasted telemetry.

"Juno's spiking," he said, eyes on her vitals. "She's pushing herself."

Lucian grunted. "She always does."

Rowan gave him a side-eye. "So do you."

"She's not me."

Back in Sector 17, the tide was shifting. Dozens of riftspawn now lay broken across the ground. The RCU's towers began to pulse in sync, sending waves of interference through the air.

"They're trying to force the rift closed manually," one tech murmured.

Alexander slammed his axe into the ground, sending a wave of force that threw a group of beasts back toward the rift's edge. "RCU, now!"

Energy surged.

The towers activated in unison, their arcs forming a crisscrossing lattice of light that pulsed inward.

"Stabilizing," came the cry. "We're sealing it!"

A final wave of feedback burst from the core as the rift sealed shut, the corrupted light vanishing in a blink. What followed was silence.

Not peace—never peace. But silence.

Ari leaned against a wall, breathing heavily. Juno fell back beside her, wiping her brow.

"We're clear," Alexander confirmed. "Begin cleanup. HRT, you're up."

The Hazard Recovery Team moved in with drones and containment units, scanning for residual corruption.

Back at HQ, Evelyn leaned back. "They did it."

Lucian exhaled. Rowan allowed himself a small smile.

But deep inside, he knew this was only temporary. The rifts never truly stopped.

They only waited.

*VTOL stands for Vertical Take-Off and Landing.

VTOL crafts are aircraft (like futuristic helicopters or drones) that can lift off, hover, and land vertically without needing a runway. In the context of Corrupted Bonds, they're likely military-grade transports or combat dropships used to quickly deploy Esper teams into rift zones or evacuate units from dangerous areas.

Think of them like sleek, high-tech versions of helicopters or sci-fi aircraft—agile, fast, and designed for urban rift deployment.