Chapter 137. Mission Briefing
Frontlines.
Sector 3.
Base C322.
Captain Peterson’s office.
Peterson sat behind a broad alloy desk, staring at a floating holographic interface. The glowing blue light reflected off his glasses.
Somewhere at the button of the hologram, the difficulty level of the mission was panned deep red : Hell difficulty.
Across from him, Aiden Vhorn stood at ease. His posture was perfectly relaxed, his expression a smooth, unreadable mask of absolute polite indifference.
Peterson cleared his throat. He tapped on a button on the holographic file.
The holographic button expanded into the schematic of an outpost, marked with top-tier emergency banners and administrative delay stamps.
"Outpost 47, one of the outposts connected to Sector 3," Peterson said. "Located on the jagged ridge bordering the Red Faults of Sector 3. Three hours ago, Captain Miller issued an emergency Distress Level 2. A localized tide of Rank 2 and Rank 3 chaotic beasts have neared the walls of the outpost."
Aiden glanced at the scrolling tactical data.
The report was grim. Outpost 47 was a strategic choke point—a wall of reinforced steel and defense built to keep chaotic beasts from spilling from the Red Faults, a canyon of forests full of chaotic beasts, into the bases of Sector 3.
The current garrison was down to 30 percent support.
"They requested a full elite division of a unit full of legendary rank 2 and beginner rank 3 operatives to quell the chaotic beast tide," Peterson continued, sliding his gaze up to meet Aiden’s flat eyes. "However... due to the recent reallocation of base assets, Command has adjusted the response protocol." Peterson continued.
"You are being deployed immediately as a solo vanguard," Peterson stated. "Your objective is to reinforce Outpost 47 and hold the base from chaotic beasts until the primary relief division arrives."
Aiden’s eyes flicked over the small, fine print at the bottom of the digital order.
Relief Division Estimated Time of Arrival: 72 Hours.
Aiden smiled inwardly.
Seventy-two hours.
For a heavily damaged, low on manpower outpost facing a Rank 3 chaotic beast tide, a seventy-two-hour delay was not a deployment window—it was an official death sentence. The Admirals hadn’t just sent him to die; they had used a genuine emergency from a desperate garrison to construct a seamless, untraceable grave.
If Outpost 47 fell, the Admirals could easily write off the tragedy: Private Vhorn’s arrogant refusal of expert guidance resulted in his inability to hold a high-risk vanguard position, leading to the unfortunate loss of the outpost.
Clean. Bureaucratic. Untouchable.
’Seventy-two hours,’ Aiden thought. ’The standard deployment response for a Level 2 distress signal in Sector 3 is four hours.’
Peterson observed the operative before him.
He went further to give Aiden Vhorn information Admiral DeepSea had simply given him. He was completely oblivious to the scheme at play. He was just a captain acting on orders.
"Intel received from high up indicates that Base C322’s transit channels are undergoing recalibrations following your actions which led to the destruction of the Ashen Wasteland. More personnel have been sent there. Command requires time to deploy a primary relief team to Outpost 47."
"I understand," Aiden said calmly. Peterson was just following orders. The man was oblivious to everything at play.
Peterson looked up, surprised by the total lack of pushback. He had prepared himself for an outburst, or a refusal. "You... accept the deployment?"
"Command has issued an order. As an operative, I am obliged to execute it," Aiden replied politely, his voice smooth and steady, eyes indifferent.
He brought his heels together and offered a crisp, concise salute. "I will head out immediately."
Peterson watched the young man turn and walk out of the office, the door shutting behind him.
Sitting alone in the quiet office, Peterson felt a strange, cold shiver run down his spine.
He had seen dozens of arrogant geniuses over his career. When placed in impossible situations by their superiors, they panicked, or raged.
Aiden Vhorn had done none of those things.
He had been strangely calm. It was as if he was anticipating this.
What a strange young man.
He shook his head and returned to his duties.
****
Aiden returned to his apartment.
He decided to wash down before he headed out.
After washing down and changing into military jackets, jeans, and boots, he was about to head out when he received a call.
Aiden picked it up.
It was Desmonda, Asmodeus, Seraphina, Candice, and Luke.
They had expressions of worry on their faces.
"I suppose news travels fast, huh?" Aiden said.
"Dude, you are all over the news. You actually managed to destroy The Ashen Wasteland? From overt military reports, it’s a very big deal," Asmodeus said.
"You haven’t even spent a month in the military and you’ve caused an uproar again." Seraphina shook her head.
"You guys shouldn’t be surprised. This is Aiden we are talking about," Candice added.
"Seriously... you gonna act tough, babe...?" Luke added. "Weren’t you so shocked that you opened your mouth for about a minute?"
"Don’t mind them, babe," Desmonda said. "We also heard about the commotion with the admirals... It seems someone from high up is plotting against you."
Everyone’s expression turned serious.
"Yeah. But I can’t share anything about who is behind this whole thing at the moment. It may put you guys in danger," Aiden replied. If he told his friends that the emperor was a member of the Order, he would be signing their death warrants. An organization like that had strong intelligence channels. They would find out. And when they did, they’d eliminate anyone who knew this because they’d be labeled a threat.
Even if he told them, they could not do anything about it at the moment. Aiden himself was too powerless at the moment to deal with the Order. He didn’t want to implicate his loved ones. It was an inconvenience he did not want them to put themselves into. The best thing was for them to become stronger. When they managed to become Rank 4 warriors, or at least legendary Rank 3 warriors and he had not already dealt with the Order, he’d tell them what he had discovered about the emperor and the Order at the time.
"That’s serious."
"Yeah."
"But we understand."
The group replied. There was no need for words between people who had similar ideals and trusted each other.
"How are the preparations for the competitions going?" Aiden asked.
"We are starting the local level competitions next week. It will be between the universities across Hessington State. After that we will move to the interstate and national level," Desmonda replied.
"All the best to you guys. Sorry I can’t watch it live. Military life. I’m actually headed out on a mission right now," Aiden replied.
"No worries," Asmodeus replied. "We understand. The most important thing is for all of us to grow stronger. Also, you can always watch the competitions later. They will be recorded after all."
"Yeah." Everyone nodded.
"Gotta go, guys," Aiden said. "Thanks for calling. Love you, Des."
"Love you too," Desmonda replied.
"So you hate us then?" the others replied.
"Fuck off." Aiden chuckled and cut off the call before they could start messing with him.
These guys... Aiden smiled warmly.
"Time to head out." Outpost 47 awaited.