Location: Halcyros Prime – Guild Sector, Lower Vein Markets
Time: [Cycle 8 : 22:00 – 02:00 Local Drift]
The Guild's bounty had been paid. Ren had cleaned the sludge off his skin, but the sensation of summoner glyphs still burned faintly — like invisible bruises etched beneath the bone.
He couldn't sleep.
So he did what restless summoners do:
He went shopping.
Location: Vein Market Strip – Outlaw Quarter
The Vein Market at night was a glowing mess of dust, contraband casters, and spell-smiths carving arcane gear into raw hide.
Ren found a stall run by a three-eyed vendor with tusks and a nervous twitch. The stall was draped in shimmering robes, each laced with faded summoner runes.
He picked one — midnight black, light as shadow, reinforced with silverbone threading that shifted temperature based on his magic flow.
"Custom-fit glyph cloak. Dead caster's last will still stitched inside," the vendor whispered.
Ren: "...Cool. Also, what?"
Vendor: "It moans sometimes. Don't worry about it."
He paid.
Now dressed like an off-duty god of sketchy power, he stepped into the nearby alley and closed his eyes.
Let his glyphs breathe.
"Show me," he whispered. "What I bound."
The air shivered.
A presence stirred.
His palm burned faint black.
Then… he saw it.
The First Summon Vision of the Mire Whisperer
Not a dream. A drift-echo memory.
He stood ankle-deep in liquid shadow, with black trees whispering secrets into a violet sky. The Mire Whisperer stood across from him — silent, now smaller, more focused than its sewer-bound form.
It bent a little. Not kneeling.
Just… acknowledging him.
He saw its nature:
A child of echo-fields. A failed god's parasite.
Shaped by war. Forgotten in exile.
Hungry. But not disloyal.
Ren breathed slowly. "We work together. You serve me… I don't waste you."
The spirit's jaw twitched — like it was trying to smile with moss instead of lips.
Then the vision ended.
Back in the alley, his eyes snapped open.
And he knew.
The Mire Whisperer wasn't just a summon.
It was a doorway.
Location: Guild Hall – Mission Board
Ren returned to the Guild.
Trossa was lounging on a bench, drinking something that glowed red. She looked him up and down.
"Well well… Shadow Cloak Edition unlocked. Feeling sexy, hunter?"
Ren groaned. "Please don't say that like you're reviewing an adult toy."
Trossa: "Oh I absolutely am. You are the toy."
She kicked a crate toward him.
Inside: a scroll.
Mission Tier: 2A
Assignment: Escort + Retrieval
Objective: Retrieve relic box from Upper Cradle Transport Hub (Abandoned). Escort low-tier caster client through minor Vein-blight zone.
Time Limit: 4 Drift Cycles
Pay: 12,000 shards
Bonus: Fast-pass Drift Token to outer cities.
Ren lifted it. "This'll cover my travel?"
Trossa: "Barely. But yes."
She stood. Walked toward him. Leaned close.
"Or…"
She traced a finger down his arm. Voice soft, low, dangerous:
"You skip the job…
Let me brand you with my personal glyph mark.
You get free travel, free food, and a bed in my quarters.
I'll even make sure you stay warm."
Ren's heart dropped into his dick and choked.
"Tempting," he muttered, "but I like earning my food with dignity."
Trossa laughed. "Bold words for someone who passed out into a puddle of ghost sweat."
She handed him a token.
"Clock starts now. Client's waiting in the launch tier. Try not to die, rookie."
Ren turned to go.
"Hey," she added.
He looked back.
"If you change your mind about the branding…
I can always put it somewhere fun."
Ren: "YOU. ARE. MY. BOSS."
Trossa: "That's what makes it spicy."
Location: Halcyros Prime – Guild Sector Launch Tier
Time: [Cycle 8 : 03:30 – 06:15 Local Drift]
Mission: Escort + Retrieval – Blight Zone Risk
Ren took the mission scroll, tucked it into his new robe — which still moaned occasionally, thanks to the dead summoner sewn into the hem — and made his way to the launch tier, a circular elevator platform that hummed with residual energy.
The client was already there.
A girl.
Barely older than nineteen, sharp grey hair tied in a braid, thick goggles resting on her forehead, and a rune-slinger's pack strapped to her back.
She didn't look up. Just muttered:
"You're the escort? Thought you'd be taller."
Ren squinted. "I thought my client wouldn't be a weapons-grade toddler."
She smirked.
"Name's Rell Vystra. I summon illusions. And explosions. Mostly explosions."
Ren held out a hand.
"Ren. I summon things that whisper and melt people."
Rell grinned wider. "Good. We'll get along great."
The platform dropped.
They descended into the Lower Cradle — where Halcyros dumped its forgotten tech, damaged relics, and Vein-bleed waste zones. It was quiet. Cracked. Buzzing faintly with power that didn't belong.
The relic they were retrieving?
A containment box marked with the House Aurelix crest — one of the five great empires.
Which meant:
"If anyone else's fingers are on this, we don't ask questions," Rell said, voice suddenly sharp. "We get in, get out. Fast."
Location: Blight Zone – Access Tunnel Delta-13
The moment they crossed the arch into the Vein-scarred zone, Ren felt it.
Something shifted.
The air thickened. The light bent.
The glyphs on his arms buzzed like static trapped in blood.
His summon marks flickered.
"Something's watching," he said.
"Always is down here," Rell replied. "Just don't blink too hard or you'll skip a minute forward."
They reached the relic vault — half-crushed by debris, surrounded by old Vein markers, flickering containment fields… and no guards.
Too easy.
Too quiet.
They stepped in.
And the box screamed.
A pulse of energy shot outward — pure temporal backlash. Time shivered in place.
Rell fell back.
"What the fuck was that?!"
Ren staggered forward — and then his glyphs activated on their own.
One burned bright: Summon Glyph – Slot Two Activated
"I didn't call anything—"
But the box opened on its own.
A massive pulse of corrupted Veinlight surged into the room.
And from Ren's glyphs… something else emerged.
Unintended Summon: "The Rattlejaw Knight"
A shadow formed — tall, skeletal, armored in old war-plate stitched with black roots.
Its head snapped around like a broken marionette. It held a crooked blade and hissed like a dying planet.
It looked at Ren.
And bowed.
Rell whispered: "Is that… yours?"
Ren: "Apparently? I didn't invite him."
The Knight turned, lifted its sword—
And struck down the energy pulse.
The temporal feedback shattered like glass.
Then… the Knight crumbled into ash.
New Summon Acquired
Name: Rattlejaw Knight
Class: Temporal War Echo
Abilities:
– Delay Slash (Staggered hit)
– Anti-Magic Shell Pulse
– Echo Recall
Ren stood panting.
Rell blinked at him. "…Okay. That was hot."
Ren: "I think I accidentally leveled up."
They sealed the relic, shoved it into her containment case, and started heading back — fast.
No more ambushes. No more pulses.
Just that quiet hum of Vein echoes…
And something far off, watching.
📍 Back at Guild Hall
Ren handed in the box. Rell slapped the bounty crystal on the desk.
Trossa looked them over.
Both a little scorched.
Ren's robe was definitely moaning louder now.
Trossa: "Two contracts down, and you still have most of your limbs. I'm impressed."
She leaned close again, lips at his ear.
"Keep surviving like this and I might take you on a personal hunt."
Ren blinked. "I don't think that's in the contract."
Trossa smirked.
"Sweetheart… I am the contract."
Ren groaned and walked off.
His robe moaned again.