Unamused, Azrael stared at the Rift in the far distance.
"Of course it's a Savage one… Why would I expect a Feral one? Seyra won't treat me that nicely."
Shaking his head in displeasure, he observed the base he had been transported to. It was a large one housing about two dozen Proven.
Unlike him, most of them looked much older. They had likely lost the drive that young people carried and had long since given up on chasing power. Instead, they handed over the items gained from killing monsters to the government, secretly hoping they might be granted a life-changing skill that could reignite their ambition.
Azrael was currently waiting at the rooftop; another squad of Proven was meant to arrive, with Victor being among them.
'It's good that more reinforcements will come… But I feel like I ended up getting the short end of the deal once more.' Azrael thought bitterly, gaze moving to a structure a bit farther than the Rift itself.
