The Elites

11:57 — February 14, 2274. Hibūra 118, Lipent sector. Old Lipent University, Floor 10

"Attention, team. Marc, do you copy me?"

A woman's voice came through the radio's static, tense and clear.

Marc, a tall man with a long sword on his back, slowed his pace and reached for his earpiece.

"I copy you, Yuki. But what the hell was that? That energy signature… It's unlike anything I've seen in the records. It seems… distorted."

At his side, a young man with dark hair and an alert gaze quickened his pace.

"It was right on the roof! Where the orange smoke signal is!" he shouted, nodding upward as his eyes scanned the steps still ahead.

The third, a slender guy wielding a spear with skill, adjusted his breathing mask.

"The drones aren't getting a good signal," Yuki continued from the command center. "There's a strange coverage failure in the area, as if something is interfering. But what we detected… was an erratic burst of Rem energy. Grade 5 fluctuations."

Marc paused for a moment, his face hidden behind his visor, but his posture became more rigid.

"That's impossible," he said, his voice grave. "At grade 5, the entire building would have collapsed. Nothing would be left standing."

"I know," Yuki replied, her tone one of high alert. “That's why I'm telling you: be careful. This isn't normal. It's not even a common Class B beast."

The one with the spear, the lancer, looked at Marc, then at the other.

"Yuki, what about the student? Seth Harper, any sign of him?"

There was a brief silence on the other end, only the sound of keys being pressed rapidly.

"So far, we've only confirmed the orange smoke flare he deployed. Based on the point of origin, he should be on the roof too, but with all that interference… we can't be sure if he's still alive."

The lancer clenched his teeth.

"Then we have to get there now."

The group continued climbing, the concrete stairs creaking under their boots. The air smelled of old dust, dampness, and something else… something metallic and burnt, as if a huge circuit had exploded nearby.

Suddenly, they came across a sign stuck to the wall, the letters half-erased by time and moisture, but still legible:

12TH FLOOR

Marc pointed upward.

"One more floor. Watch out for any movement. If there's a wounded or frightened beast, it will be more unpredictable. And if there's something else… something that causes grade 5 signatures without destroying everything in its path… don't let your guard down for a second."

Everyone nodded.

One of them adjusted his gloves, another spun his spear in a fluid motion, and Marc drew his long sword, the blade reflecting the dim light coming through a broken window.

The silence was heavy, broken only by their breathing and the wind whistling through the empty floors.

11:59 — Old Lipent University, Rooftop

KRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!!!

The beast's roar echoed across the rooftop, a sound that was not just rage, but something deeper, almost desperate.

The creature advanced toward Seth, dragging its wounded tentacles. It was no longer the patient, lurking shadow it had been before.

Now it was in a hurry.
Afraid.

It raised what remained of its limbs, black and twisted, and pointed them at Seth like living spears.
The air vibrated around them, charged with deadly intent.

Seth, lying on the ground, could barely breathe.

Pain ran through his body like fire, and the cold of shock began to take hold of his limbs.

He moved his head with all his effort, his dry lips parted, and a hoarse, almost inaudible sound escaped his throat:

“No… no… I will not die…”

But for Seth, in that last moment, the whole world seemed to stop.

Time slowed down, became heavy, as if the air had turned to gel. He saw the tentacles approaching inch by inch, saw the gray sky behind the creature, motionless.

Everything was silent, just a frozen calm.

And then, three shadows crossed his field of vision.
The three shadows loomed before him.

A buzzing sound cut through the air, metallic, dry.

CHAK!

One of the beast's tentacles flew through the air, severed with a single clean cut.
It fell slowly, spinning like a heavy black feather, and crashed to the ground with a wet thud.

SPLAT.

The beast recoiled immediately, as if that single cut had reminded it that there was something stronger, faster, and deadlier than itself in that place.

Seth looked up, slowly, with effort.

And he saw them.
Three figures dressed in gray.

Their uniforms were impeccable, without a wrinkle, without a stain.

They wore masks that covered half their faces, reflective like mirrors, and in their hands they held weapons that seemed like extensions of their bodies.

One, tall and thin, wielded a sword as long as he was, thin and straight.

Another, younger, held a spear with both hands, its tip glowing with a faint light.

The third had three Rem wires wrapped around his arms, which moved like sleeping snakes, waiting for their moment.

They were the reinforcements. The Elites.

They had arrived. Perhaps not in time to prevent the pain, but in time to prevent the end.

"Get him out of here!" shouted the swordsman, without even turning his head, his eyes fixed on the beast through his mask.

The lancer moved instantly. He crouched down next to Seth, lifted him carefully but firmly, and began to back toward the roof exit.

Seth barely felt the movement. Everything was a blur of lights, shadows, and distant sounds.

"Watch out!" shouted the third man, the one with the wires.

FWOOOSSHH!

A burst of tentacles flooded the area.

The beast, cornered, launched a final flurry of tentacles in all directions.

The attacks struck the ground, the walls, the remains of antennas, raising clouds of dust and debris. The concrete cracked under the force of the blows, and for a moment, everything was covered in a gray haze.

The lancer protected Seth with his body and, in one swift movement, leaped onto the roof of the adjacent building.

He landed softly, setting Seth down against a low wall.

From there, Seth saw everything.

The swordsman didn't back down an inch. He advanced through the tentacles as if dodging them before they even moved.

His sword traced silver arcs in the air, cutting off every limb that dared to come near. These weren't brutal movements; they were precise, calculated, almost elegant.

The beast, now clearly wounded, gasped for breath.

It no longer stalked.
It no longer waited.
It just wanted to escape.

The wire user saw his chance. With a flick of his wrist, his Rem wires shot out, snaking through the air, wrapping around the beast's tentacles before it could react.

"I'VE GOT IT!" he shouted.

SWISH!

He pulled the wires tight, and the beast was bound, its tentacles writhing uselessly.

The swordsman took advantage of the moment of immobility and launched a direct attack at the center of its mass.

But the beast reacted. With a sudden movement, it twisted its body and dodged the blade by inches.

It freed itself from the wires with a violent tug and backed away toward the rooftop entrance, cornered against the wall.

The swordsman did not stop. He approached, step by step, and the beast launched a final desperate attack.

Black tentacles like spears shot out at him, but the swordsman dodged them with short, measured steps, as if he were dancing.

He was in no hurry. He was not afraid.

It was surrounded, but now it looked different… it no longer had that stalking calm; it panted and seemed to want to escape.

Seth noticed it instantly from his new angle. The swordsman advanced without difficulty, cutting off the creature's limbs piece by piece.

And the beast launched a barrage of direct attacks at him as if they were guided missiles, enough to keep him at bay.

But at that moment:

KRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!!!

The beast roared, louder than ever, and with a leap propelled from the wall, it lunged forward.

"It's escaping!" shouted the swordsman.

"I've got your back!" replied the one with the wires.

The beast, desperate, abandoned all solemnity and, thanks to its momentum, threw itself into the void, the air flapping its limbs and—

FWOOOSH!

The beast dodged the bridge on the 12th floor and crossed the broken bridge on the 8th floor.

CRAAAASSHH!!!

Its target was the bridge on the 4th floor, its deformed legs flailing in the air like a wounded crow. Making the entire building shake, it landed abruptly, almost causing the surface where it stood to collapse.

The swordsman didn't hesitate and started running, straight into the void.

Seth, from the other building, held his breath.

It's a drop of more than 30 meters… what is he supposed to do!?

The swordsman jumped.

His body remained upright in the air, and his reflection passed, clean and serene, through every window of the building as he descended.

There was no hesitation in his movements. There was no fear in his posture.

Seth was stunned, but he watched closely… It was almost as if he had a plan.

Just before crashing into the ground, a wave of Rem energy enveloped him, slowing his fall until he came to a complete stop in midair.

He floated for a moment, suspended, and then descended gently to the bridge on the 4th floor.

The wire user, from above, held out an arm, focused.

"Thank you, Fisk!" shouted the swordsman.

"Follow him!" shouted the wire user. "I'll take the stairs!"

W-what… is it possible to use Rem energy that way?

The swordsman nodded and, with a burst of energy, landed right behind the beast.

It tried to attack, but every tentacle it threw was cut off with a clean, precise movement, as if he knew every attack before it happened.

The bridge creaked under the beast's weight. With every step it took, the cracks spread.

KRIIIIIIN!!!

The beast launched one last, desperate, chaotic flurry of attacks. The swordsman did not attack. He only defended. He blocked, deflected, and dodged. And then, Fisk arrived.

The swordsman didn't hesitate. He didn't even look at the beast.

"Silk formation."

Fisk nodded. With a smooth twist of his wrist, his Rem cables shot out again. This time they weren't meant to entangle, but to trap.

One to the right tentacle. Another to the left. Another to the torso. And the last to the neck.

Each wire found its anchor in the bridge railings, tightening like violin strings.

The beast hung suspended, trapped in a web of its own helplessness. It struggled, screamed, writhed, but every movement only pulled it tighter against the wires.

KRRRHHHH!!!!

And then, the swordsman advanced.

A single step. A single movement.

CLAAASH!!!!

His sword pierced the beast's skull from bottom to top with lethal precision. A jet of blue blood shot skyward, glinting for an instant against the gray clouds before falling like dark rain.

The beast collapsed.

Dead.

Seth saw it all. Leaning against the wall, gasping for breath, pain, exhaustion, dizziness… clouding his mind, but his eyes remained fixed on those warriors.

They moved like the world revolved at their pace.
Fearless… As if they had already died.

He clenched his fist weakly.

So these are the Elites…?
Maybe I would never reach that level.
That calm. That precision. That coldness.

It just felt... impossible.

He had survived. And that, for now, was enough.
At last, he could rest.