Blue sky.
Low wind.
Sun up above.
Quiet atmosphere.
What a day this is…
Looking back at my life, this might actually be the most peaceful moment I've ever had. Ever since I joined the Gate Closing Operatives and became the strategist of the elite squad Ginther—alongside my cousin—it's been nothing but one disaster after another. Gates, monsters, firefights, sleepless nights… rinse and repeat.
Now? Just me, my office chair, and Miyu snoring softly on the couch.
I leaned back, lacing my fingers behind my head. The ceiling lights hummed faintly, filling the silence. My gaze shifted to the girl with messy green hair spilling over the couch armrest. Miyu Kurogane. My cousin, my scout, and—despite her timid personality—the sharpest pair of eyes I know.
Her hair, the same shade as mine, shimmered in the sunlight pouring through the blinds. The resemblance is uncanny; no one could mistake us as anything but family.
I smiled faintly. Yeah, if every day were like this, I'd actually live long enough to retire…
But of course, peace never lasts.
The door slammed open with enough force to rattle the glass panes.
Standing there was a tall man with dark, sharp eyes and the kind of expression that could freeze lava. Arata Kujo. Our squad leader. His face was as unreadable as ever—a perfect poker mask sculpted by war.
Anyone else would think he's an emotionless machine. Me? I know better. After years of missions, I've cracked the code: he's secretly a tsundere.
Which makes this worse.
If Arata's here in person, that only means one thing—trouble.
"Takumi," his voice was ice. "How's the slacking going?"
I swiveled lazily in my chair. "Oh, hey, leader. You know, the usual. Chair's comfy, paperwork's untouched, cousin's asleep. Life's good."
Arata's stare could kill a lesser man. "Good. Now that I've got your attention, meeting room. ETA, five minutes."
And just like that, he turned and left. No explanation. No patience. Just orders.
I groaned, dragging a hand down my face. So much for peace.
Rumors had already reached my ears—three new members were being assigned to us. Which explained the urgency. But still, did the guy have to kick my door open like a SWAT raid?
My sigh must've been too dramatic, because Miyu stirred on the couch.
"…Nii-san?" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
I winced. "Sorry, Miyu. Did I wake you?"
She shook her head, strands of green hair swaying. "No… the leader slammed the door. Anyway, don't we need to go to the meeting room?" Her head tilted slightly, like a curious puppy.
And just like that—bam—direct hit. My heart throbbed painfully.
Critical cuteness damage.
I clutched my chest theatrically. "Aghh… Miyu, do you realize what you're doing? You're gonna kill me at this rate."
She blinked innocently. "Eh?"
Damn it, she's too powerful. Maybe this is what people mean when they say "siscon." But she's my cousin… does it still count? Does society allow cousin-con? I'm not going down this rabbit hole. Not today.
I reached out and patted her head instead. She smiled brightly, and I nearly collapsed from the sheer force of her smile.
Stay strong, Takumi. Stay strong.
"L-let's go, yeah?" I stammered, forcing a thumbs-up.
Miyu nodded, hopping off the couch with surprising energy for someone who was dead asleep two minutes ago. I dragged my legs behind her, casting a final, longing glance at my beloved chair.
Don't worry, my friend. I'll come back for you.
I shut the door.
---
The walk to the meeting room was filled with the usual base noise: the clatter of boots, the buzz of comms, the faint distant alarms from monitoring stations tracking active gates. The whole compound never truly slept.
After all, gates didn't wait for permission. They appeared where they pleased—shimmering distortions that vomited monsters into our world.
For years, humanity had been at their mercy. Cities crumbled. Governments fell. The first decade was nothing but survival. Then, slowly, painfully, we adapted.
Materials harvested from the gates—rare ores, crystallized energies, fragments of otherworldly tech—were reverse-engineered and integrated into human technology. Now, our weapons were sharper, our defenses stronger, and our chances of closing gates higher.
But the cost? Blood. Endless blood.
And we—squad Ginther—were among the few tasked with sealing those wounds in the world.
"Hey, Takumi," Miyu's soft voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Do you think the new members will… fit in?"
"Hmm." I scratched my chin. "Doubt it."
She frowned slightly. "Eh? Why?"
"Because every newbie either dies too quickly, gets traumatized too fast, or annoys me instantly. Three-for-three pattern so far."
She puffed her cheeks. "That's mean, Nii-san."
"Hey, I'm just stating statistics. It's not my fault reality has bad writing."
She giggled softly, and I smiled despite myself.
---
We reached the meeting room. Inside, the rest of the squad was already gathering.
Daichi Morita—our armament specialist—was the loudest, of course. He was practically bouncing off the walls, waving his hands around as he talked about some new explosive design. His messy brown hair stuck up at odd angles, matching his chaotic energy.
"—and then BOOM! Bigger than the last one, I swear! Takumi's gonna love it—oh, speak of the devil!" He spotted me instantly, grinning wide. "Oi, Takumi! You ready to test my new toy later?"
I groaned. "If it doesn't blow my eyebrows off this time, sure."
Next to him, sitting quietly with his back against the wall, was Shizuki Naruse. The sniper. His presence was so faint, I almost missed him. He was like air—silent, invisible, but deadly when focused. He gave me a nod, barely noticeable.
Across the table, perched on a chair too big for her, was Hina Aoyama—our medic. Her short frame and bubbly demeanor made her look like a kid in comparison to the rest of us, but I knew better. That "innocent" smile of hers hid surgical precision that could stitch a man back from death.
Beside her stood Akane Kuroda, her girlfriend and our survivalist. Tall, sharp-eyed, with a gaze like a hawk's. Protective to a fault. The way she hovered around Hina was less "squadmate" and more "bodyguard/girlfriend hybrid."
I raised a hand. "Yo."
Hina waved enthusiastically. "Takumi-kun! Miyu-chan! Good morning!"
Akane simply nodded, her piercing eyes scanning us.
And then, at the far end of the table, arms crossed, stood Arata Kujo. Still cold. Still unreadable.
He gestured sharply. "Sit. We're waiting on the last few."
I dropped into a chair, Miyu settling beside me.
Within minutes, the final three entered.
The newbies.
First was a girl with short, messy hair and nervous eyes. She fiddled with her sleeves, stuttering as she tried to introduce herself. Nanami Fujikawa. The mediator and messenger.
"N-nice to m-meet you all!"
I resisted the urge to groan. Yup. Called it. Annoying already.
Second was a tall man with dual katanas strapped to his back. His expression was calm, focused, almost stoic. Takeru Kanzaki. Rearguard, close combat specialist. He bowed politely.
And last was a girl adjusting her glasses, a book clutched in her hands even as she walked. Reina Kisaragi. Information gatherer. She didn't even look up from the pages as she muttered, "I'll contribute as needed. Don't disturb me when I'm reading."
Arata's voice cut through the chatter like a blade.
"Our squad has been chosen for a new mission. Intel suggests a gate unlike any we've encountered before."
He pressed a button, and the screen behind him lit up with an image.
My eyes widened.
It wasn't a normal gate. Not a shimmering distortion. Not a glowing crack.
This one was mechanical—massive gears interlocking, pipes hissing, strange steampunk design radiating an alien glow.
A mechanical gate.
The room went silent.
And for the first time in a long while, even I couldn't crack a joke.