[BEASTIARY - COMETS]

Creatures originating from the [???], considered to be a lesser species closely related to the [???]. Like them, they were granted powers by the [???] and monitor the many worlds as grunts for their superiors.

They have access to the [???], thus making them extraordinary powerful. Each Comet is given unique powers which range from simple abilities like surveillance to conceptual alterations. Albeit, these powers pale in comparison to genuine [???].

However, despite being mere soldiers in the balance of all things, they can match even the greatest of warriors.

Current Known Comet Groups:

[The Kreutz Sungrazers]

Kreutz, the Lesser Caller

Pereyra, the [???]

Tewfik, the [???]

Wonder, the [???]

Ikeya, the [???]

***

Ordo University, surprisingly, didn’t look too different from when they had left. The franticness was kept alive in each individual person, each soldier, who had something important to be done. But the air was heavier, weighted more than the collapse of Pillar Vesper. It had laid within the chests of the troops, who must have seen the dead rise and personally killed them once more, either by themselves or their comrades. It had laid within the hearts of the civilians, who saw their friends, family, beloved, and witnessed them die twice.

But within the weight was another feeling altogether, Alexander noticed. Stricken across their faces was a familiar tint of red. It had the color of light blood, the same blood they saw spilled, yet watered down by the tears they had shed. It was anger. It was rage.

Damn those Comets. Damn them, fuck them even. First, they ordered pillagers who slaughtered their people, destroyed their homes, and now, raise the dead that they just recently killed? It was an act so horrible that God’s existence was put into further scrutiny. The same thoughts slashed across their expressions, and although many of them were still grieving, they all wanted the same thing: vengeance.

The Tormented Flesh was just one example of the tragedy. One. The boy had died in the wrong place, and whichever Comet had revived him (according to Problem’s theory), they had to die after Pereyra and Tewfik. Alexander couldn’t help but imagine that the boy was him too, back in Hangzhou.

Had the circumstances been any different, maybe Alexander’s will was strong enough to turn into a cursed being himself: one that cursed at the world for giving him such a fate. That was a depressing thought to have; that, though, was par for the course.

Today, the only thing he could do was walk side-by-side with the Slayers of the Combative Program and his team. People had waited for them: the class administrators. In other words, their professors. Mentors. Perhaps for some, people who were aunts and uncles, second mothers and fathers.

They waited at the entrance.

When the administrators saw their students returning home, and no one was lost, their hardened expressions broke into relief. And their students broke too, their rage melting away into a sorrowful joy. Once they saw that their teachers alive and well, they became kids again. They ran to their teachers shouting, asking about the zombies, asking if they were okay; and the teachers asked exactly the same thing: the Tormented Flesh, the zombies, if they were okay, and how stupid they were for staying here, how Archknell was an idiot but he saved their lives and everyone owed him a beer.

Alba and Luster were in the back watching this sight, outsiders in this community. The wholesome sight warmed Alexander’s heart. It brought him an easing feeling that maybe, in this day of sorrow and anger, tomorrow would finally bring smiles across Ordo. But the Comets would not give them that future, so it was their duty to create it. Starting here then, he smiled, and made sure his friends and loved ones were with him, always.

Of Team Luster, Hidden leaned against Jury, whispered something to her, and they both laughed. Montana slapped Problem’s back and they scowled, levitating out of arm’s reach. (According to Hidden, Problem was still healing. That slap must’ve hurt. Bad.)

From the crowd, Professor Ichiken—administrator of A2, who taught Victor and Deon—broke through and faced both teams. He glanced from Alba to Luster, Luster to Alba, and he bowed, having his rather-long navy hair be pulled down by gravity. “I need to give you my thanks too. It was a mess here. Hearing that there were no casualties, even after the Horror, I don’t think our hearts can take more.”

Alexander nodded towards Jury. Her eyes widened at the gesture, but this was an inappropriate time to argue about credit or respect. She sighed, putting a hand on her chest and bowing. “I apologize for not calling in the threat sooner. I’m glad to hear that nothing serious had taken place despite the Tormented Flesh’s work.”

Ichiken shook his head. “Don’t be. You did enough, Jury. Though, well, I suppose things had gotten harder from here on out.” He darkened.

Alexander knew what he was referring to: the roads. The zombies had been traveling through the streets to reach the Tormented Flesh; now, since the Horror was dead, the zombies were dead again, cluttering the roads like heavy snow. It’d take days for the Army to clear the streets. Logistics had a nightmare already. They could prioritize the main roads and get it done by the day's end but it would mean that other areas would be completely inaccessible.

Ultimately, it meant that all current establishments will suffer, especially Pillar Dawns. Whichever Comet came up with this strategy, they were a wickedly clever one. The Tormented Flesh was a foe on two fronts: sieging Dawns with their own dead and providing a great logistical impediment. A tactical move that more than paid for itself in both life and death.

“We’ll find a way to navigate through the obstacles,” assured Jury, with the only credible evidence being the willpower of Ordo. That alone could move mountains it seemed. “How’s Archknell?”

“He’s currently speaking with Seraph and Sage about the next steps forward, but from the bits and pieces I heard, it’s not good.” Ichiken looked off to Archknell’s direction. “I’m afraid our day’s just beginning, Jury. We’re prepared though. We have more than enough motivation to take these fuckers down.

“Good. We’ll go and meet with Archknell first while you catch up with your students.” Jury turned to Alexander. “Alba, feel free to stay here and mingle. We’ll notify you when the meeting finishes.”

Alba nodded. As said, Team Luster ushered themselves towards Archknell’s tent. Soldiers and large trucks hurried through the gates; it seemed the cleaning operation was already on its way.

Once Luster left, Professor Ichiken suddenly grabbed Alexander by the hands and shook them. For a second, he thought he was being attacked; no, this was simply Ichiken’s character. He had always been an excitable man. “It’s good to see you fighting, Shen. I heard it from Victor: you handled yourself incredibly well. I never thought he’d compliment you.”

Alexander awkwardly chuckled. “That asshole has his moments. I don’t think it’s worthy of compliment anyway: I was just doing my job as a Slayer since, after all, we’re fighting side-by-side with you.”

“Haha, of course! Of course! And Ahn!” Ichiken did the same to her. “I can only imagine how beautiful the next War Saintess must’ve been! I wish I was there myself!

Leona had the same awkward chuckle. “Don’t say something like that! I—”

And he moved onto Vernon, who was shaken like a doll. Damien saw what was coming and engaged first, patting Ichiken’s shoulder and smiling heartedly. Then it was Althea’s turn. With her, he seemed to be even more enthusiastic, saying, “And you must be the sister! It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Mhm, yeah!” Althea kept her hands close to her chest once Ichiken let go, unsettled by his intensity. “Glad to be a part of the show.”

Alexander glanced with the rest of the team and asked, “Sorry if this seems a little forward, but do you know what you’re going to do with Deon? Especially since…”

Ichiken sighed, scratching his neck. “Obviously, we can’t discipline him given the fact that our authority structure is collapsed. But I can bench him. Frankly, despite what Deon went through, I expected that camaraderie could provide him with some relief. I guess it’s my fault for underestimating his temperament, but I can’t help but be disappointed.”

Leona shook her head. “Don’t be. Deon knew the stakes and did what he did anyway.” She looked at the juniors in front of them. “What’s happening with Professor Cloutier?”

There, Professor Cloutier—administrator of B1— brought her class to the side. No one could hear what she was saying, but she ached. Her lips quivered as she explained something to her students, and the previous joy was gone, replaced by a uniform, tearless mourning. Many of them had their heads down, in silence, and a few took solace in each other’s arms.

Professor Ichiken placed a hand on Alexander’s shoulder, shook his head, and faced the entire team. “While you were away, Noa Siegel from B1 passed from her injuries. She was the short, blonde-haired girl who practiced healing.”

“I know,” Alexander recalled. “Last semester, November I think, she approached me because she wanted to do a paper on Hangzhou. We did a few interviews. She was nice. A lot of the time, we ended up talking about other things. I don’t remember much from our conversations, but she always said that healers came in short supply. She wanted to found a school that specializes in that.”

Alexander didn’t tell them that after Noa Siegel turned in her paper, she asked him out on a date. He politely turned her down—because he had feelings for someone else—and she didn’t hold any grudges. Genuinely, she was someone nice. As memory betrayed, he didn’t know if she had family here or outside of Ordo. Regardless, they lost their daughter today.

“This disaster really is awful, isn’t it?” Vernon said. “And it’s only getting started. It hasn’t been a full twenty-four hours but the rollercoaster keeps going, huh?”

“We’ll get the fuckers,” Althea promised, leaning close to him.

Ichiken rubbed his mouth and nose, sniffling. “That’s right. This is why we fight. The Comets messed with the wrong city. They could’ve chosen anywhere else in the world, but they picked us. They’ll regret it.”

***

“Seraph has given us new orders in regards to Operation Scorcher,” began Archknell to the majority of the Department of Systemic Works, similarly to before the first mission. “In light of the obstacles caused by the Tormented Flesh and the short timetable, she is shifting our focus from an offensive to a defensive measure.

“In other words, instead of emphasizing Pereyra’s and Tewfik’s subjugation, we will emphasize the security of Pillar Dawns instead. We will continue to work on analyzing the Comets’ abilities and any relevant drawbacks, engineer new weapons and armor, brew any potions that may prove valuable, anything in order to gain the slightest advantage. Combatants, you will stay here in Ordo University and prepare yourself for the siege ahead. Once Seraph calls, you will be taken to Pillar Dawns.

“All of you. No matter what rank or class you are, you are Slayers. You are warriors. You forged weapons that slaughtered giants. You wielded those weapons magnificently. You casted the magic to topple mountains. You are greater than the mountains. Remember these feelings, of immortality, of grandeur. I had these feelings as you had, and while you may falter, by the fact that you are standing here of all places, you have already cemented yourself in legend-hood.

“As the Guild Master of Glory Guild, I will personally etch each of your names into a tablet and recite them to the world because you are today’s conquerors. You are already glorious, so why not add another accolade to your legacy?”

Archknell painted the news better than it was. He essentially said that it was far too late to kill Pereyra and Tewfik before the attack; thus, the only logical choice was to prepare for them. Despite this, even knowing the state of the current Pillar Vesper, it needed to be done.

Today then. Today was going to be a long day. Alexander had to prepare himself. Most of all, he had problems to solve.

What powers do Pereyra and Tewfik have? Under what conditions?

How can the Slayers work around them? Knowing that Pereyra has a nigh-omnipresence?

If possible, can they be defeated? Through what methods?

These, of course, were questions that combatants like him couldn’t answer. They were meant for the supports, the analysts and the scientists and the engineers and so on. His job was to fight, not to plan.

Alexander’s eyes met Archknell’s.

They nodded.

***

Before Archknell’s update, Alexander roamed around Ordo University. He had read the survey documents that Sage gave him, about the mana concentration levels around Dawns. In summary: the levels were higher (obviously). In the numbers reported just recently however, there were two anomalies that consistently measured higher: those found near the Tormented Flesh and Alexander himself. They deviated greatly to what others had recorded.

Thus, as Alexander contemplated, thinking about what Hidden had said to him before the zombies had risen. It had made complete and perfect sense. The Comets came from an unknown region in the multiverse, something primordial, close to the root of all things. If that was the case, then they were, in a sense, closest to nature. What did that mean?

Well, their powers were tied closer to the building blocks of each and every world. That meant their abilities were not abnormal but natural, something inherent in existence.

Ordo should not look for any irregularities but search deeply into what was normal.

Alexander found himself in one of the basements in one of the STEM halls, dark and ominous. There was no light here. Had no electricity nor any windows. Slowly, he stepped to the center of the room and equipped a Pleun device, which measured mana levels.

He read the screen and smiled.

Alexander:

Archknell, I cracked the code

We can win this