The first time they called her "Tank Goddess," Anastasia Shimizu was holding a crumbling overpass on her back like a patient Atlas. Morning traffic had been pouring through Shibuya when the portal split the sky above the scramble crossing—a round wound of violet glass. The city's public alarms wailed; AR warnings cascaded across every phone and billboard: BRONZE-CLASS GATE: SHIBUYA WARD. EVACUATE. Commuters slowed to look up, then hurried faster. That was Tokyo—curious, then precise.
Anastasia jogged into view from the station stairwell, not so much armored as properly dressed for the end of the world. There was a modern utility to her gear: matte-black composite plates under a white haori-style jacket trimmed with gold script; a collapsible tower shield slung across her back; a carbon-ceramic baton that telescoped into a radiant maul; a waist charm of wooden prayer plaques along with a sleek guild-signal earpiece. Her black hair was braided into an efficient crown. Her expression was soft, almost motherly. Her eyes, when they lifted to the threat, were calm.
"Good morning," she said to the clustered city officers at the barricade. She bowed, polite despite the sirens. "Shimizu Anastasia, Paladin. S-tier, affiliated with Suncrest Guild. I'll anchor frontline. Please keep evacuation channels open."
Officer Takada blinked, then saluted. "Goddess— I mean, Ms. Shimizu. Suncrest's already on scene?"
A voice chimed in her ear. [SUNCREST COMMS//Raina]: We're two minutes out. Don't start the party without us, Nana.
Nana: the way her guild said her name. Anastasia smiled. "Two minutes is perfect. I'll warm them up."
Above, the circle widened with a sound like glass breathing. The first things through were Kudzu Wolves—vine-sheathed, low to the asphalt, braids of chlorophyll coiled around muscle. Bronze-class monsters: ten times stronger than a D-tier human, so roughly a hundred times stronger than a normal person. They hit the pavement and left clawed divots in city stone.
Anastasia's shield thumped down, locking into the street with magnetic teeth. She glanced left; a line of high schoolers pressed behind the police tape, filming in wide-eyed silence.
"Eyes on me," she said to the wolves, as if chiding unruly pets. "We don't run in crosswalks."
She stepped forward—and the street seemed to step with her. The air hummed.
[STATUS — ANASTASIA SHIMIZU]
Class: Paladin (Tank) Tier: S (x1,000 Human baseline)
Guild: Suncrest (Tokyo Chapter)
Vitals: HP 100% | Stamina 100% | Resolve 100%
Mitigation: DEF +320% (gear), RES +65% (baseline), Block 45%
Threat: +120% (passive), +300% (active taunt)
Auras: Sanctuary Field (–30% enemy ATK, +2% HP/sec ally regen) [Ready]
Passives: Perfect Guard (First hit/5s → 0 dmg + Radiant Counter, 5s ICD)
Oath: Mother's Aegis (Redirect lethal hit on ally within 15m; 60s CD)
Actives:
• Divine Bulwark — Deploy radiant barrier, 10s, 90% dmg reduction to allies behind. [Ready]
• Provocation of the Saint — AoE taunt, 15m, forces target focus; grants Fortified (+20% DEF). [Ready]
• Radiant Maul — Charged strike; scales with DEF; stuns Bronze/Silver reliably. [Ready]
• Aegis Surge — Sprint + shield rush; creates lane of safe passage. [Ready]
Equipment:
• Aegis Mk.II Riot-Paladin Tower Shield (Relic Core) — +2.0x effective HP, absorbs 15% ranged.
• Hikari Laminar Vest (Nanoweave) — +1.6x HP, shock dispersion.
• Miko's Prayer Locket — +10% healing received; small chance to cleanse debuffs on block.
The first wolf lunged. She moved a half-step, let its momentum spend itself on her shield, and used the rebound to corkscrew her maul up under its jaw. Something like sap and steam burst; the beast crashed at her feet. Two more bounded from opposite angles.
"Left flank!" an officer shouted.
"I see them," Anastasia said, tone warm. "And I'm not letting them past me."
She slid the shield, caught both attacks, and her passive flared—a bell-clear chime as Perfect Guard rendered a bite to zero. The returning counter flashed Radiant across the wolf's chest; it tumbled into the barricade. Her comm pinged.
[Raina]: Snipers on-spot. Goddess, duck your halo. Kana and Miyu with me.
[Kana]: I brought onigiri. Also a rocket launcher. Guess which I'll share first.
[Miyu]: Please do not fire the launcher in a residential ward unless absolutely necessary.
Anastasia laughed softly, even as she kicked her shield into a knee-scoop that toppled another wolf. "Raina, darling, put your pretty bullets where my shield isn't."
Pop-pop-pop. Raina's rounds were surgical whispers. Three wolves collapsed mid-sprint, strings cut.
A second wave poured from the portal—larger forms, bark-armored boars with antlered helms. Bronze still, but heavier. From somewhere behind the tape, a teen breathed, "They talk like this while fighting?"
"They always do," a friend whispered back, awed. "They say it keeps the fear away."
Anastasia rolled her shoulders and toggled comms to open channel. "Civilians of Shibuya, keep calm, keep filming if you like, but keep distance. We'll close the gate and you'll be teleported home if you're accidentally drawn in. Officers, you're doing great. Deep breaths."
"Goddess," Officer Takada said, "if it upgrades—"
"We adapt," she said. "We always do."
Kana clipped past her with a grin, hair in a messy ponytail, sleeves rolled. A-tier brawler—three hundred times a normal human's power, but always treating it like a gym day. She winked at Anastasia and flexed. "Mom's here, kiddos. You brought the big lunchbox?"
Anastasia arched a brow. "Language, Kana. And yes, I brought snacks." She patted the pouch at her belt. "Emergency mochi."
"Marry me," Kana said automatically.
"Get in line," Raina muttered over comms.
Miyu, their healer, skidded to a halt behind the shield wall, adjusting her glasses. Her hands glowed with steady, antiseptic warmth. "Sanctuary Field when you're ready, Nana. I'll thread heals through it."
"Now," Anastasia said.
A soft golden dome unfurled from her like sunrise. The boars hit it and slowed—just enough. Kana stepped in, planted, and sent one spinning. Raina tracked the stagger and set a bullet into the exposed eye. Miyu's radiance stitched a frightened rookie officer's shallow cut before he even winced.
"Money check!" Kana sang, because Suncrest did logistics in motion. "What's the bounty on Bronze today?"
"Eight thousand yen per subjugation," Miyu said primly between heal pulses. "Plus materials. Boss bonuses scale."
"Eight thousand—" a junior officer breathed, like he'd never done that math aloud. "And there are—there are dozens—"
"Do your jobs well," Anastasia said gently. "And you'll see those numbers keep the city standing."
The gate brightened. The air picked up an iron taste. The sound changed—deeper, a double heartbeat. Raina hissed. "Upgrade. Reading… Silver-tier pull. Big body."
Anastasia lifted her chin. Shibuya Crossing was a clock—so many angles to keep safe. She didn't move backward; she stepped forward to the foot of the crosswalk stripes and set her shield. "Everyone behind me," she called, voice carrying—not a command so much as a promise. "When it looks worst, that's when you tuck in."
The portal spat out a Basilisk of the Vine, silver plates under living ivy, eyes burning like sake lanterns. Silver: four hundred times stronger than a D-tier human—forty hundred times a normal person. It reared, hissed, and the hiss was a wind that sent trash flyers spinning.
"New price check," Kana said under her breath. "Silver boss…?"
"Five million base," Miyu said, and then, deadpan: "Hazard pay to the goddess who plans to eat the breath for the team: priceless."
Anastasia's smile tilted, flirtation threaded through a battlefield. "If you keep flattering me, Doctor, I'll ask you out for tea in front of the entire ward."
Miyu blushed so hard her healing light wobbled. "F-focus front."
"Front," Anastasia echoed, fond. She breathed in, long and steady, and her aura tightened like a drawn bow. "Raina, eyes. Kana, anchor on my left. Miyu, three steps back, set your circle just inside mine. Officers—down."
The Basilisk's throat bulged. Vines along its jaw crackled with static. It exhaled—a beam of viridian corrosion that could have melted rail steel like noodles.
Anastasia slammed her shield into the street. DIVINE BULWARK unfurled: a rectangular curtain of layered light. The breath struck, and the world turned to green fire. Numbers scrolled across her inner view.
[INCOMING: SILVER-CLASS CORROSIVE BREATH]
Base DMG: Catastrophic
Mitigation: Bulwark (–90%) + DEF scaling (–62%) + RES (–65%)
Overflow: 0.9% per tick → Converted to Heat (Aegis Core)
Status: Perfect Guard primed → First contact nullified.
Result: Team receives negligible residual.
Her boots carved twin furrows in painted crosswalk; asphalt bubbled around them. She did not budge. Behind her, Kana whooped. "That's my captain!"
The breath cut off. The basilisk blinked in reptile puzzlement that its best card had been snatched. Anastasia flared the Bulwark outward like a door, using the last of its force to push the line forward.
"Switch," she said, and her team moved like a good sentence reads—inevitable and satisfying.
Kana slid under a sweeping tail and planted her palms to launch a double-kick into the jaw hinge. Raina's shot lanced the basilisk's left eye, blinders on. Miyu's circles pulsed steady regen across officers who couldn't stop trembling at the sight of melted street. Anastasia took one gorgeous, balanced step and rammed with the shield, turning a tail-whip into a glancing kiss against reinforced composite.
The basilisk coiled to strike. Anastasia's Provocation of the Saint rang like a temple bell. Threat numbers spiked.
[PROVOCATION] → Targets: 1 (Silver Basilisk)
Aggro secured. Fortified (+20% DEF) gained for 10s.
"On me," she told the monster like she was telling a toddler where to hold hands while crossing the street. "On me, darling. Everyone else is busy."
It bit. Perfect Guard chime; zero damage. The radiance that bloomed out of her block climbed her maul. She answered with Radiant Maul—not strength, but leverage; not rage, but geometry. The stun punctuated the street like a judge's gavel.
"Window!" Raina called.
"Open," Anastasia said, and tilted the world—her shield angling up, just so, to expose the underside of armored throat.
Raina's bullet whispered. The basilisk shuddered, then fell across Hachikō-dōri, shaking the ramen shop windows.
For a beat, there was only the sound of alarms and settling dust. Then the AR text that every bystander lives to film:
BOSS SUBJUGATED. CLAIM REWARDS TO EXIT.
The basilisk dissolved into pale motes. Loot notifications sparkled in everyone's vision.
[REWARD // TEAM: SUNCREST TOKYO]
• Silver Basilisk Core (1) — Allocated: Guild storage
• Ivy-Scaled Plate (x12) — Allocated: Crafting (Kana)
• Basilisk Eye (1, pristine) — Allocated: Marksman (Raina)
• Gate Bonus (Shibuya Ward): ¥5,000,000 → Split per contract terms
• Civic Hazard Bonus: ¥1,200,000 → Officers on-scene (Shibuya Police)
• Public Safety Merit +2 (All Suncrest members present)
A pull like elevator drop lifted everyone's stomachs. Particles brightened. Teleport confirmed. Civilians who'd crept too near the line vanished, returned to safe zones with breathless laughs and already-editing videos.
The street was street again: scorched patterns like calligraphy, a faint smell of ozone, traffic lights confused and blinking. The portal pinched down and popped closed.
Officer Takada's shoulders slumped in relief. He approached with both gratitude and shock crowding his face. "I—thank you. All of you. Ms. Shimizu, you—you didn't move."
"I like this crossing," Anastasia said, pristine courtesy back in place as she clicked her baton down to its tidy baton-self. "It's a good place for first dates. It should be safe."
Raina muffled a laugh. Kana just stared. Miyu looked like a kettle about to boil dry. Anastasia turned, head tilted, playful concern warming her voice. "Doctor Miyu, are you overheated? I can fan you."
"I'm fine," Miyu said, very not fine. "Excellent field performance. I—thank you for the tea offer, earlier. If it was not a battlefield joke."
"Oh, I don't joke about tea," Anastasia said, eyes softening. "Or about spending time with people I admire." She offered her a hand—gloved, steady. "This afternoon? There's a shop in Ebisu that does yuzu matcha chiffon."
Miyu made a noise like a small animal discovering sunlight. "Yes," she said, surprising herself with the ease of it. "Okay."
Kana fanned herself with both hands. "I hate it here," she announced cheerfully. "Anyway, who's carrying the plate? It's heavy, and by who I mean Anastasia, because she hates when I pretend to be delicate."
"I would never call you delicate," Anastasia said, amused. "Your heart is a freight train."
Kana grinned like she'd been handed a medal. "That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."
They staged a quick street reset—cones realigned, scorch zones chalked for municipal crews, brief statements recorded for the Imperial Gate Administration (IGA). Suncrest was known for doing the little things right: polite bows, clear comms, a smile for the baker whose morning rush had just been interrupted by a lizard the size of a bus.
The guild van rolled up as they were wrapping. Their chapter emblem—a rising disk behind a shield—gleamed on the side. Inside were towels, electrolyte drinks, and the kind of silence that follows sudden adrenaline.
Anastasia opened the rear and handed out canned barley tea, the motherly act so effortlessly woven into command that none of them ever found it patronizing. "Sip," she said. "Hydrate. Then HQ."
"HQ?" Raina asked, already tapping notes into her rifle's maintenance app.
Anastasia glanced toward the bay. Storm clouds were gathering fast, darker than the forecast. The hairs along her arms lifted. "That felt like a tester," she said quietly. "Gates don't usually throw a Silver first. They build."
Kana scowled. "You think a Gold is coming?"
"Possibly," Anastasia said. "And if it's Gold, we'll need the Coalition."
Gold meant a monster roughly 10,000x a normal human. Even S-tier hunters measured that gap with respect. Golds were city-shakers. Mythic was a word you tried not to say into a Tokyo wind.
The van hummed into traffic. Suncrest HQ occupied the upper floors of a refurbished office tower in Shinjuku—a blend of sunlight and fiber optics, break rooms that smelled like miso soup and printer toner, glass walls alive with map overlays and bounty ledgers. Guild culture mattered in this era. Good guilds coordinated. Great guilds shared.
As they entered, pings popped across the alliance board. Silver spike in Yokohama. Bronze swarm in Saitama. Nagoya requesting healer exchange. The world talked to itself now, and in that noisy conversation was survival.
Guildmaster Ootori met them at the ops floor—gray hair in a low bun, eyes sharp. "Shibuya looks clean. Good work," she said. "But we have a problem. Two new portals have just registered a harmonic in Tokyo Bay."
"Harmonic," Miyu repeated, eyes narrowing. "Synchronization between gates."
"Exactly," Ootori said. "Either poetically or stupidly, the sensors are calling it Twin Bells. If they resonate at the wrong frequency, we could see a compound spawn—one gate reinforcing the other. Gold-class probability has ticked up to 62%."
Kana rubbed her palms together. "That's a lot of yen."
"That's a lot of city," Raina countered, though her fingers danced on the map with eager precision. "Coalition pinged?"
"We're on a shared channel," Ootori said. "Dragonspear, Cloud Ladder, and East-Ward are rolling. I want Suncrest on anchor." She looked at Anastasia. "I want you on anchor."
Anastasia inclined her head, calm as prayer. "Of course."
Ootori's gaze softened, the way a commander looks at her best shield before every storm. "I know you'll say yes. I also know you'll worry about the kids behind the tape before you worry about your own bones. S-tier you may be; Gold still chews S-tiers for lunch if they're alone."
"I'm never alone," Anastasia said, and glanced at her team with pure affection. "I have a sniper with a surgeon's hands, a healer with a lion's heart, and a brawler who thinks sunlight is a personal challenge."
Kana saluted with a grin. Miyu tried to look unflustered and failed. Raina's mouth tilted, pleased.
Ootori nodded once. "Briefing in ten. Loadouts tailored. Coalition push in thirty. We'll try to pull the fight to the breakwaters. Less population density; more room to fall back."
"Understood," Anastasia said. "We'll be the wall."
"You will be the wall," Ootori said dryly. "Everyone else will be clever scaffolding."
The ops floor brightened as guild windows opened. Contracts updated. Hazard pay escalators clicked into place. Across the city, phones buzzed gentle alerts: COALITION RESPONSE DRILL: PLEASE AVOID TOKYO BAY.
Suncrest kitted for waterline combat—grapnels, anti-corrosion sprays, tether lines with smart reels. Anastasia swapped to a hydrophobic overlay on her shield and clipped a flotation seal under the Aegis' rim. She tied her hair tighter and looked—briefly—at her reflection in a glass panel. She practiced a smile not for the cameras but for the frightened people who would look to the person with the biggest shield and ask, without words, if this is survivable.
"Captain?" Miyu hovered in the doorway, one hand tracing a nervous circle on her sleeve. "About—tea. After the bay. If we are not… bleeding."
Anastasia reached out and lightly touched Miyu's knuckles, a reassurance that felt as natural as breath. "After the bay," she promised. "No matter how the day goes, we end it with something sweet."
Kana leaned in with a stage whisper. "If you two get married before I do, I'm suing."
"You can be the ring bearer," Raina said. "You already carry heavy things."
"Rude!" Kana said, delighted.
The coalition convoy streamed down the Bayshore Route: guild vans, emergency vehicles, drones skimming like silver dragonflies. The sky wore an evening face at noon. On the horizon, two points glowed—dull at first, then increasingly insistent—as if the sea had grown eyes.
At the seawall, three guild banners rippled. Dragonspear's captain—a slim woman in a crimson coat—raised two fingers in greeting. East-Ward's heavier infantry checked couplings and anchors, their commander barking cadenced counts. Cloud Ladder's wind-casters floated tethered like friendly kites.
Ootori stepped onto a makeshift dais assembled from shipping pallets. "Coalition," she called, voice bright and precise through a dozen comm meshes. "We'll stage in three rings. East-Ward in the second, Dragonspear on strike, Suncrest anchors first line. When those gates fully express, we expect Gold potential. Our metrics say Mythic is statistically unlikely."
At that word—Mythic—some eyes flicked to Anastasia. Mythic meant 50 times an S-tier, a number best handled with prayer and evacuation drills. She didn't flinch. She simply sank her shield into the stone and tested the footing.
"Goddess," Dragonspear's captain said as she came to stand beside her. "I've admired your work. You make holding look like an art form."
"Thank you," Anastasia said, and meant it. Compliments were threads; she knotted them carefully. "I admire your team's cuts. We'll make space for your tempo."
"You flirt like you breathe," the captain said, amused.
"I also block like I breathe," Anastasia replied in the same tone. "Which would you prefer I demonstrate first?"
A laugh rippled along the line, easy, human, exactly the kind that keeps panic from blooming in the ribcage. Then the sea hummed—a harmonic that vibrated in the joints. The twin lights widened, green and gold. Water sloughed back from concrete as if politely giving room.
COALITION ALERT: GATE MANIFESTATION — TWIN BELLS — CLASS RISING… GOLD PROBABILITY: 78%.
Anastasia lifted her shield.
"Everyone," she said over open comms, voice mother-soft and unshakeable. "Breathe in for four. Hold for four. Out for four. We'll buy the time we need. We'll make this safe. On me."
The gates unfurled like two enormous flowers, and the first shapes in their throats were not wolves or boars. Something taller uncoiled; scales like lacquered armor; antlers like living kelp.
A rumble moved through the coalition, half fear and half joy, because there was always a thrill when the world tried to end and you realized, absurdly, you were being paid to stand against it with your friends.
Anastasia set her boots. The wall, again. The Goddess, again. Kind and unyielding and a little in love with every terrified stranger behind her.
"Suncrest," she said, and their three names answered as one: "With you."
She smiled into the roaring wind—the calm at the heart of it.
"Then," she said, and the gates cried open.
"Let's make Tokyo money today—and keep Tokyo whole."