Atop a massive pile of bones, a lone skull rested. The skull contrasted with the bones in the pile which were brittle, cracked, and yellow with age. Instead, it was immaculate and its pristine white surface glowed slightly in the cascading moonlight. The skull stirred from its torpor, red light filled its empty sockets and a symbol etched into its forehead cracked with power.

The lone skull floated upward from its bed looking to the east with its jaw slightly open. From the darkness, someone spoke to it.

“So, you felt it as well, Kafkë?”

Kafkë looked back into the darkness. To its eyes, the lack of light wasn’t an issue so it peered through the shadows to meet the speaker’s gaze. Slowly, it floated over to the other occupant of the room who sat on a fearsome throne of alabaster bone and dark crystal.

“How could I not, boss?” Kafkë responded.

“Then, I was not mistaken.” The being upon the throne pressed a skeletal hand adorned with many rings to his chest where a black and white gem lay suspended within his ribcage. The sockets of his skull flared to life, one with a swirl of darkness and the other with a silver flame. Trails of deathly aura rolled off of throne’s occupant as he spoke again. “It is likely one of the Pope’s tricks.”

“I ‘m not so sure.” Kafkë had its doubts. The Pope of the Eternal Light church was a crafty old fox with a lot of power at his disposal, but to produce a fake signal that could fool them of all people seemed impossible. It added, “What I felt was identical to the Twilight Key. It was a little weaker, sure, but the feel of it is unmistakable. You should know more than anyone, boss. What’s the Key telling you now?”

The skeletal figure gazed into the eastern horizon. The stars glittered above the throne room, visible due to the damage sustained long ago which had destroyed most of the roof and two of the four walls. It would have been simple to fix, but the boss had forgone it. Kafkë understood the reasoning. Not only was the view beautiful, but it wasn’t like they needed to worry about security or exposure to the elements. It followed his gaze in the direction it had felt the signal. The moment had been brief; however, Kafkë was certain. Other than the boss, it had the most intimate connection with the Twilight Key. Since the Twilight Key rested within the boss’s body, whatever emitted that signal had to be a near perfect copy or something else with the same signature.

“It is calling me to go to this other Key,” the boss said shifting in his throne. His great cloak rustled from the motion disturbing dust which had settled since the last time he had moved his body.

“Calling, eh?” Kafkë said, skeptical. While it believed the boss, the skull had a hard time shaking its growing suspicion of this supposed “other” Key. One of the defining traits of the Twilight Key was its uniqueness. There was only one or, in better terms, there only could be one. The Twilight Key held the embodied potential and lifeforce of the world itself. It was an artifact beyond value— only one world, only one Twilight Key. A calling implied a connection of some kind which was only further supported by the identical signatures the two had. It was a conundrum that didn’t sit well with Kafkë.

“Indeed.” The skeletal hand resting over his chest moved as the incarnation of death pointed to the east. “It is like the Twilight Key is calling out to this other. The feeling reminds me of when we first met.”

If a skull’s eyes could widen, Kafkë’s would have. It responded taking care with each word as its unliving mind came to realize the full implication of the boss’s words, “So you’re telling me the Key is reaching out to this other thing for help like it did for you when you first found it?”

He nodded. “Yes, only this is far more visceral. The call I heard was like a candle to a bonfire compared to this.” Silence stretched between them after his words faded. Kafkë made to break the quiet but was stopped when the figure spoke once more. “We must investigate this matter. Even if it is a trick, we cannot let it be.”

“You go it, boss. Feels like the signal came from one of our outposts. It’s a fair distance but our teleportation circle can get our people there instantly. I’ll get a team together and send them out,” Kafkë said. It floated away from the throne toward the large door across the room.

“No,” the boss’s cold voice stopped Kafkë in its tracks. “Summon Rovena and my honor guard. I will go myself.”

Kafkë wanted to argue but knew it would do no good. It tilted itself downward in the best impression of a bow it could manage. “It’ll be done.”

As it pushed past the door, it heard the rustle of cloth. The Twilight King rose from his throne.

***

After talking to Atlas, Cordan made his way over to the bus containing all of the equipment necessary to monitor and open the Remnant Gate. He spent a few minutes managing his people in order to make sure everything went well. He didn’t know who their client, Ciel, was, but the higher-ups in the guild had been adamant to accommodate him as much as possible. Cordan got the message loud and clear. Don’t fuck this up. Then again, the fact that he, a B-rank Relic Hunter with over fifty raids under his belt, had been assigned to oversee a D-rank raid was a big enough clue as to how badly the guild wanted this op to go smoothly. Cordan guessed Ciel was some kind of exec for a major corporation. Although most of those types usually employed their own raiding crews and staging teams, the guild still got the occasional contract from them especially since they had a monopoly on the devices necessary to open rifts.

The REDs or Remnant Extraction Devices were what allowed Tracers to open Remnant Gates. In order to make them, the creator needed several extremely rare materials found throughout the Broken Lands, Due to the nature of their work, the guild ran a lot of raids so they were in a prime position to gather said ingredients. About twenty years ago, the previous guild master had capitalized on this advantage by focusing the guild’s efforts on cultivating the resources necessary to make the devices and recruiting talented crafters to create as many REDs as possible. He had done this for a decade, Because of him, the guild had the best and biggest supply of REDs on the market. It wasn’t just REDs either; the guild prided itself on being the number one provider on all things related to rifts and Remnant Gates. They made a hefty profit by renting the devices out to corporations and other entities. Every now and then, one got stolen but the entity who rented the device was responsible for returning it and failure to do so meant the guild would no longer do business with them. For the most part, it was a good deterrent to those who might accidentally “misplace” their equipment.

With everything taken care of, Cordan kicked back in his chair on the bus with the monitoring equipment. Sarah reached into the minifridge under the desk as he put his feet up and handed him a cold beer.

“You know me too well,” he said, flashing a charming smile. The bottle cap popped off as he exerted his will on it and he took a swig. Despite telekinesis being one of his weakest skills, it was definitely the most convenient. Sarah chuckled.

“Given all the time we spend together, I should hope I’ve picked a few things up,” she said, winking at him. If Cordan were ten years younger, he would have blushed. As it was though, he just leaned over and kissed her. It didn’t last long. She lightly pushed him away with a smirk curling on her lips. “Easy tiger, save it for—”

Whirring noise from the monitoring panel mounted on the wall over top the desk cut her off drawing both their eyes. The energy readings from the rift spiked significantly causing Cordan to frown.

“Another surge?” he asked. Energy surges were common with rifts so he wasn’t worried. They were annoying though since they could lead to the occasional RED failure which would delay the raid. She entered a few keystrokes to initiate a diagnostic. The results appeared within seconds and Cordan surged to his feet.

“A Rupture!” Cordan exclaimed. There was less than a one percent chance of a Remnant Gate rupturing. He cursed his luck. “Get me an accurate reading on it ASAP! I need to find the client.”

Ruptures occurred when a Remnant Gate expanded beyond its initial threat level. The guild measured threat level by sending probing pulses of pure Logos through the rifts and measuring the response which told them the approximate Logos density of the area beyond. The Logos density denoted the average strength of the Relics and creatures within the Remnant Gate. Since their machines were very precise and the areas beyond Remnant Gates were merely fragments of broken worlds, the measurement was almost never wrong. However, no matter how ideal the conditions were, something could always go wrong in any given situation and, unfortunately for Cordan, he had to deal with it. Thankfully, Ruptures never raised the threat level more than one or two steps. Everything would be fine as long as Cordan got ahead of the issue.

He was nearly off the bus when Sarah exclaimed, “Cordan!”

“What?” he answered turning around. He saw Sarah’s face warped with shock and fear and a lump of dread settled in his stomach.

“I-I’m getting a threat reading of A,” Sarah said. Cordan felt faint. How was this happening? Sarah’s eyes widened even further and her mouth hung open, aghast.

“Sarah!” he shouted, startling her. He hated yelling at her but he needed all the information they had. “What is it?!”

“The reading just exceeded threat level A,” she said, her eyes meeting his. Her gaze told him that wasn’t all. “And it’s still rising.”

For the first time since coming to Fracture, Cordan felt the urge to pray to his god. If not for his years of experience, he would have been stunned into inaction. However, he was a veteran Relic Hunter, not some fresh-faced newbie. He rushed out the bus. I need to get this area evacuated NOW,

He had just stepped off the bus when he spotted Ciel standing in front of Atlas who was on his knees. The rift crackle with black energy behind the two. Then, to his utter disbelief, it opened. Before he could think of a plan, a notification popped into his head.

[Warning: You have encountered a World Boss. Extreme caution is advised.]