Chapter 71: The Lions' Den

The mission briefing took place at dawn in a sterile, grey chamber in the academy's Northern Spire, a place reserved for official GAMA operations. Ren walked in and immediately felt the shift in atmosphere. This was not a classroom. It was a military briefing room.

A woman stood at the front, her back to the door, studying a holographic map of the target region. She was tall, with a severe, practical haircut and a GAMA uniform that fit her like a second skin. Her Aetheric signature was a deep, steady, and immensely powerful hum, like a perfectly tuned engine. This was Captain Eva Rostova.

Two other figures were in the room. One was a broad-shouldered young man with a grim, stoic expression, his arms crossed. He wore the insignia of a third-year Apprentice. The other was Anya Volkov, who stood calmly observing the map, her data slate already in hand.

The door hissed shut behind Ren. Captain Rostova turned, her eyes—the color of polished steel—sweeping over him. Her gaze was sharp, analytical, and missed nothing. She noted his rank, his posture, and the quiet stillness that seemed so at odds with his age.

"Apprentice Ren," she said, her voice crisp and authoritative. "Welcome to Squad Chimera. I am Captain Rostova. This is my second-in-command, Apprentice Leo, and our mission specialist, Anya Volkov."

Leo gave Ren a curt, almost imperceptible nod. Anya's eyes met his for a fraction of a second, her expression a perfect mask of professional neutrality.

"I have read your files," Captain Rostova continued, her tone leaving no doubt that she had read the official GAMA report, the Elder's commendations, and likely the scandalous academy rumors as well. "Both of you," she added, her gaze shifting to include Anya. "You are prodigies. One a hero who stood against a Master-level threat, the other a genius whose analysis of the incident was insightful enough to earn a provisional clearance for this mission. I am not impressed."

She began to pace, her movements economical and precise. "Prodigies are a liability. They are arrogant, they are unpredictable, and they think the rules do not apply to them. On my squad, the rules are everything. My command is absolute. You will follow every order without question and without hesitation. Your personal rivalries, your academic fame—leave it all here. In the field, you are a single unit with a single purpose: completing the mission. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Captain," Anya replied instantly, her voice clear.

"Yes, Captain," Leo grunted.

Ren gave a simple, firm nod.

"Good," Rostova said. She gestured to the holographic map. It showed a desolate, rocky coastline in the northern territories, battered by fierce winds. A single, angry red icon pulsed on the map. "This is our target. A C-Rank Rift, designated 9-Delta. It opened 48 hours ago. Our long-range sensors indicate it is unusually stable for a new rift, and it is emitting a high-frequency resonance that suggests a Rift Core is forming at an accelerated rate."

She zoomed in, showing a cross-section of the Rift. "The Core acts as an anchor, a heart that pumps chaotic Aether into our dimension, strengthening the Rift and spawning progressively more powerful beasts. We must destroy it before it fully matures. If it matures, this C-Rank nuisance could escalate into a B-Rank threat within a week."

"Our insertion will be via skiff, three kilometers from the Rift zone," she continued, her voice all business. "We will proceed on foot to minimize our Aetheric trail. Apprentice Leo and I will form the vanguard. Apprentice Ren, you will be our primary offensive power. Your file indicates a high-potency, direct-energy attack. You will engage hostiles on my command, and only on my command. Specialist Volkov, you will monitor the Rift's energy fluctuations and guide us to the Core's location. You are our compass."

It was a clear, logical plan. And it was a perfect cage. Ren was the squad's cannon, but Rostova held the trigger. Anya was the guide, but her "guidance" would also be a constant analysis of every move he made.

"One last thing," Rostova said, her steel-grey eyes fixing on Ren. "Elder Tian has vouched for you personally. He says you are a weapon. Weapons do not think. They do not have opinions. They fire when aimed. Prove him right."

The briefing was over. They were escorted to the transport skiff, the silence between the four of them charged with a tense, professional energy. As they flew north, leaving the safety of the academy behind, Ren looked out at the passing clouds.

He had power. He had rank. He had a mission.

But he was in a den of lions, and he wasn't sure who was the hunter and who was the prey.