“We got heavy casualties taken in Siegfried, Roland, Cloud Saint, Wukong, Susanoo, Chiyou, Robin, Javelin—”

“Yeah man, we got it! We’re fucked!” Victor exclaimed, interrupting Deon after he had came back with news from the radioman. This was a perfect example of things being fucked up beyond all recognition. FUBAR, if he remembered correctly. He didn't know. He was still awful at military terminology.

Deon scowled, wiping dirt off his cheek. “I’m trying to inform you of the current situation, so stop letting your nerves get the better of you—"

“Well, maybe you oughta stop being an asshat, man. Ever thought about that, huh?” snapped Victor in retaliation, stepping closer to Deon only for the ground to tremble. He stumbled, almost fell on one knee. A curse escaped from his lips.

“Hey hey hey!” Kaiya intervened, getting in-between the two men. “We can’t get at each other’s necks here, alright? Look Victor Squared, Deon’s right—” (“Ugh.”) “—yeah, you’re getting worked up so take a step back and breathe. And Deon, sometimes you need to shut up too. Okay?” They said nothing. “Great! What did the radio-guy say, Deon?”

Deon sighed and rubbed his lips, taking a moment to recompile the information inside his head. “Skipping over the areas that were hit hard—it’d be faster to name the areas that weren’t honestly—everything is in upheaval. The Slayer System is down, so we can’t communicate with Sage or the rest of the expedition. We don’t know Archknell’s location or any of the other Slayers present at Gallery Street. Same with Professor Hei.”

Kaiya stiffened, so did Chunhua, standing beside her. When a portal connecting to an ocean appeared, Professor Hei had to split from the Department of Systemic Works to aid the recovery, since she had a water-based power. She had placed the four B-Ranks temporarily in charge. Shortly after that, the demesne fell and everything went to complete shit.

Deon continued, “Luckily, the radios weren’t affected. But the channels are cluttered. We aren’t getting structure any time soon. Not until the System repairs itself, which won’t be for another thirty minutes I think. Whether we can adjust is another question.” He looked at Victor for some reason; Victor could never tell what he was thinking. “But let’s look on the bright side: no new portals are opening up, and we’re receiving reinforcements… At some point.”

“Is the System down for everyone in the city?” asked Chunhua, nervously crossing her arms, startling when an explosion sounded kind of close, kind of not.

“Mhm. The Slayers are trying to communicate through radio, but since we didn't anticipate this…” Deon sighed, shaking his head. “Like I said: there’s no order. It’s effectively anarchy.”

Good news, huh? Is that supposed to be a jab at me? Tch. Victor stared out at the rest of the battlefield, initially counting the smokestacks but stopping after a dozen. The Comets were in the northwestern part of the battle formation, the array of perimeters surrounding Gallery Street to better combat the portal excursions. Systemic Works was in the east, which had been hit by Pereyra’s artillery and some of Tewfik’s wind pressure (everyone had been hit, really).

Although there were no new portals, it didn’t mean they’d pop up later. Systemic Works had to get ready to play whack-a-mole again, even in these shitty conditions. So Victor turned his attention to the ground forces. Streets were split apart and pipes stuck out like tree roots. It'd be impossible for vehicles to traverse these conditions. Only God knew how many units and teams had been rendered nonfunctional from taking too many casualties, or just straight up missing.

Coupled with busted comms and cosmic horrors?

Yeah, no one knew what they were doing. Officers and Team Leaders bickered, red in the face, arguing about what needed to be done and the who and the how, while people moved all around them, doing something. Was that something important? Probably they didn't know either.

Within the formation, locations had been strategically selected to serve as supply depots, medical centers, the like. No doubt that the Sungrazers destroyed several of these. Which meant resources were low, the casualties had no place to go, and all that contributed further to disorder. Sage’s briefing had listed emergency areas to use in case the previous ones were deemed hazardous. But that was assuming everyone was following operational orders and communications were clear on what locations to use.

In terms of combat effectiveness, it was at a fraction of what it’d used to be. Only high-rankers could deal any real damage to the Comets. Most of the Slayers, including Systemic Works, were assigned to stomping out any portals. Having the System offline meant it was no longer assisting with skill activations. Unfortunately the average person couldn't use independent activation.

Which, again, only high-rankers were consistent in. But they were needed to fight the Comets.

So yeah. Things were fucked, they went over this.

As for Systemic Works… Victor gritted his teeth. They’d taken casualties. A few were killed during the Comets’ outbreak, including Joseph, who’d accompanied him during the Tormented Flesh’s subjugation. Others were straight up missing. When the System finally stops fucking up, they’d know their numbers and locations.

A part of him didn't want to know.

“Victor,” alerted Chunhua, who had to physically nudge him. “What are you looking at?”

“Huh?” He blinked and found out he was looking at the ground. Right, probably looked like a real wacko. He shook his head. “Nothin’. Just thinking about our next move.”

“Which is to connect with Professor Hei and the other high-rankers,” told Deon with a steady conviction. “We need to help establish something of a united front until reinforcements arrive. As it stands, our best fighters are running around with their heads cut off. We can fix that.”

“And leave the rest of our classmates without a clear and distinct leader?” Chunhua fought.

“Two of us can stay and handle that.” Deon eyed Victor as he spoke. “What matters most is coming out of this alive.”

“Can’t believe I’m saying this but I agree with Deon,” followed Kaiya, standing next to him. “We’ve got to be proactive about this. It won’t be for thirty minutes until the System’s back online, and that’s a long time. As much as I wanna be optimistic, they currently don’t have the means to organize themselves. Not right now, at least. But we have both the means and the leadership.”

“No,” simply put Victor, “we’re gonna stay put and fortify our positions. First of all, it’s a stupid idea to split up when we don’t have a reliable means of communication—“

Deon interrupted, “We have—“

“I’m not done, man—” (“We have mana devices—”) “Just shut the fuck up, dude, alright? Look, it’s also a stupid idea to join the fight and add more chaos to an already chaotic situation. Hei ordered us to lead Systemic Works and hold down the fort until she comes back—”

“She could be hurt,” Kaiya stated, feeling some sort of pain after forcing those words out. “Are we 'posed to sit back and do nothing?”

Before Victor could respond, Chunhua had instead: “Portals could open at any given second, Kaiya. The Comets are the largest threat but not the only threat. We cannot afford any more losses. If we help, we may be burdens instead.”

Kaiya held a hand over her chest, expression torn between frustration and worry. “But—!”

“Or alternatively, us sitting back will result in having said losses,” countered Deon, glaring at Victor and Chunhua both. “Seriously, where the fuck are your heads at? Our role models, our teachers are out there fighting, and all we’re talking about is whether or not we should sit back with our thumbs up our asses. Where’s that battle spirit you two are known for anyway, yeah? The S9-Rank or whatever, and the Practitioner from Canglin.”

Chunhua stepped forward ready to bust some heads, but Victor stopped her. “Look asshole, y’know what? You’re right. Maybe we are fuckin' cowards, so if you answer a few of my questions, I’ll make my apologies and follow along, alright?”

Deon and Kaiya exchanged a look, then the former crossed his arms, waiting.

“Cool. The formation’s four miles, five maybe, in all directions. I can’t do the math but you get the point. So how are you gonna find them?”

Deon contemplated for a couple of moments. “We’ll follow the fighting and establish points with the people there.”

“Okay. How are you gonna provide communications when the radio channels are cluttered?”

“We have dozens of different mana-powered devices; I’m sure our engineers here can tinker them and use artificial leyline technology to do the job.”

“Awesome. Final question: Will they listen to you? Not Professor Hei or the others, but the high-rankers.”

“We’re students of Ordo University. They should—”

“And that’s the problem,” Victor concluded. “Let’s follow your plan: before trekking out to No Man’s Land, we’ll have the engineers tinker with a few of their toys and create what’s basically mana radios using artificial leyline technology that they might be knowledgeable in. And they’ll do it within thirty minutes of downtime. Otherwise the System comes back on and we just wasted time, energy, and resources. ”

Deon straightened himself, gritting his teeth.

Victor continued, “Afterwards you and Kaiya will travel towards the fight to look for the people you need. If you find them, and if they know what’s going on too. Because c’mon, they’re doing exactly what you wanna do. And that’s if they accept your help. Because in their eyes, we’re inexperienced, impulsive kids—and honestly? they're not wrong. What happens if one person tells you to go back? That your oh-so-graceful presence ends up putting another clog in the process?

“You guys wanted me to take a step back and breathe, right? Well, I did exactly that. So c’mon Deon, where’s your confidence? Think everything will go exactly your way?”

Victor eyed Kaiya and she turned away, biting her thumb. She didn’t have any counter-arguments which was expected: their plan had several steps that needed to be perfect. But given the amount of variables and the ever-changing situation, it’d be functionally impossible.

Deon didn’t have an immediate answer as well.

With that, the victory was his.

“That’s that, then. Look though. Deon? Kaiya? This sounds like shit advice but we have to trust that everybody knows what they’re doing, and they’re trusting us prolly the same way. So we gotta prepare for the next wave of portals, if they come, and whatever else these guys throw at us. Once things get settled, we’ll be there first thing. Okay?”

Chunhua looked impressed. Victor would've winked but Kaiya was here.

“...Fine,” conceded Deon. “Enough talking. Let’s do the hard part.”

***

The Department of Systemic Works’s headquarters (or whatever you call it) resided over a community center with an open lot, previously used for small fairs and gatherings and things like that. Luckily, there wasn't any severe damage. Most of the juniors had found their way here, although about a quarter of the teams had reported casualties.

Since most in the Combative Program were basically useless in terms of fighting power, Chunhua had suggested two ways of alleviating the temporary deficient: relying on mana constructs (automated turrets, runes, rituals, the works) and simply using guns in case things got dire. Thus, several teams were sent throughout the east to fetch the needed supplies, though it’d be difficult.

Deon had volunteered to lead the effort. He'd always been a restless son of a bitch; his schedule, before the incident, was wake up, eat, classes, train, train some more, eat, then sleep. Then wake up in the middle of the night and train again. He was physically incapable of relaxing.

Whatever. Hopefully he could take out his anger on some sporadic monster pods. If they managed to survive anyway.

Although the Slayers were restricted skill-wise, it wasn’t like they got bugged with contra-system or something. They could still use their weapons and basic forms of magic. The guns mentioned earlier? Last resorts of last resorts. Victor never fired one in his life, instead relying on his trusty [Little Gungnir], a present to celebrate his B-Rank ascension. Deon had received a similar gift with his [Talonstrider]. But [Little Gungnir] was better in every way. Looked cooler, fought better, but the name sucked honestly—it was a joke that the geeks in Supportive had.

Which made it all the more depressing knowing that some of them were gone.

He pushed those thoughts down, replaced them with instinct, muscle memory—driving completely on auto-pilot. After having studied in Ordo University for the past three years, having gone through the toughest training exercises, he’d been molded into a warrior, sculpted by a man named Ichiken Katsuro.

His peers went to him, Kaiya, and Chunhua for directions. They asked about everything: future orders, searching for their lost classmates, their teachers, what the hell was going on up north, all good questions that no one had answers to. Not right now. But what they could do was this: get ready for a fight and treat their wounded.

As the minutes ticked on, Victor had sent one of the guys from Combative Class C2 to go out and gather information. The Comets, who'd been in the northwest, drifted south, pushed back closer to Gallery, then unnervingly close to their position in the east. The last part didn't need to be told—they'd felt it. Wind had picked up and stray red bolts had randomly crashed. Thankfully, the Comets were pushed back northward.

All without a single portal to speak of.

The lot had quickly been transformed into an emergency medical area, first treating the wounded juniors. Because they were Slayers, their bodies could withstand [Healing Potions] and what little treatment the healers could give, both magical and practical. Eventually word got out that there was (barely) a system going on here, and additional casualties began flooding in from other areas.

Victor cursed as the first wave came on stretchers, carried on their friends’ backs, lifted by the shoulders, a few even teleported in. All hands were called on deck, and suddenly Victor was envious of Deon.

The action reminded him of yesterday, when Ordo University Hospital was reclaimed and the first batch of refugees came through. They were shell-shocked, stumbling into the hospital wrapped in blood-soaked bandages and asking anyone they could if they heard about X or Y.

Hardly any difference here. Except there wasn't a civilian to speak of. Only soldiers separated from their units, with some having been stationed literally across the formation; Slayers absent from their teams, many wanting to get back to the fight as soon as possible.

Those who hadn't been severely wounded anyway.

Victor had seen and treated the injuries himself, and thus gathered a few things: most wounds resulted from second-order effects. Like falling buildings cut down by Tewfik. Most deaths, on the other hand, were perpetrated by the Comets directly. Which made sense given their powers. The lucky ones came out with one less limb, or two.

He did his best to gather as much information as he could but no one had anything substantial; anything about Professor Hei or the Gallery team in general were meant with “I don’t know” or “I hope they're okay”. Even when Deon had come back with his team—nothing. At least they got the supplies. Less than anticipated but better than nothing.

“Ah crap,” Kaiya said, wiping the blood off her hands using a towel. She turned towards the community center's eastern entrance. Another wave was coming.

With a wordless gesture from her, they rushed there, guiding people towards open stations for (hopefully) immediate aid. Victor watched who was coming in, the Slayers in particular. One caught his eye: a man with a bandage covering the right side of his face. A small patch was attached to his shoulder: a big, fancy L.

The symbol of Legends Guild, in America, one of the first guilds founded in history.

The Legends had been assigned to Gallery.

“Shit,” muttered Victor before squeezing through people and things to reach Kaiya. “I just saw a guy from Legends come through.”

“Eh?” Kaiya was about to respond but someone got their attention: a Slayer who had an arm around another, the latter slightly glowing red. She told them to go to the tent with the red and blue stripes and they’d take care of the rest, then gave Victor her attention again. “Anyone else?”

He shook his head. “No, I recognize a few of ‘em but no one we know.”

“Should we ask around again?” Kaiya asked, hopeful.

“Got any better ideas? As far as I can tell, we’re stuck here until reinforcements pull us out of this shitfest. Speaking of that…” Victor rubbed his chin, recalling what he’d been told. “...It’s not any time soon. From what I hear, they’re having a difficult time trying to pin the Comets to the north. If they try heading towards the Pillar, then uh…”

“Game over?”

“Yeah, game over.” Victor looked down at his wrist; he wasn’t wearing a watch. He sighed. “How much time do we got left until the System comes back online?”

Kaiya shrugged. “Do you really think I have the answer to that? I can barely remember my class schedule.”

“Sheesh, I’ll go ask someone else then. C’mon.” Victor patted Kaiya’s back and they returned to work, guiding and helping the wounded. After asking several people, they managed to finally get their answer when Kazuhiro from Supportive told them (he was notorious for his meticulous nature): twelve minutes and forty-five seconds and counting.

Victor scurried around the lot, oftentimes forcing himself through crowds or darting out of the way as carts barreled down the bumpy asphalt. He tried finding the Legends man from earlier but no luck; he disappeared alongside his friends, somewhere in this mess. A list had been given out through the [Expedition Chat], of everyone participating in the direct subjugation of Pereyra and Tewfik.

Guess who didn’t bother to memorize it?

“Fuck,” he said, finding his way towards the nearest wall to adjust himself. A few teams from Supportive had set up additional spotlights to provide better lighting, but it was still a fucking nightmare to navigate. Meaning he couldn’t find shit. Not to mention the occasional tremors and red lights did nothing to ease his anxiety.

He leaned over, heaving, trying to piece everything together bit-by-bit: Alright, so right now we’re trying to fight back against two cosmic horrors that are currently tearing us a new asshole and the System is down and we have no idea who’s where and reinforcements aren’t coming fast enough.

Yeah, I don’t know what the fuck is going on!

“Hey boss,” said someone, a guy, he didn’t know who.

“What is it?” Victor replied, irritated, looking up to find a black-haired man with silver-white eyes. He was wearing a combat bodysuit which had seen better days.

“You’re a bitch to find, you know that?” snarked Alexander Shen, who had the gull to show his sorry ass here.

Victor chuckled, having a weight lifted from his heart. “Fuck you.”

***

After the two Comets had revealed their true forms (as Problem said), Slayer Team Alba fled and found themselves in Gallery Street. They wandered until they encountered Team Luster and Professor Hei, both parties exhausted and injured. They didn’t have time to recuperate as the battle, which’d been pushed northward, had slowly drifted closer to Gallery.

In their current state, they'd only be burdens so Jury told everyone to fall back. They were led on a long and dangerous retreat eastward, having taken numerous detours due to environmental damage. Fortunately with Professor Hei’s help, they came here.

Once they arrived, they had taken the back entrance into a conference room within the community center, knowing that their presence would attract unwanted attention. Which was where Alexander was leading Victor to. Kaiya, Chunhua, and Deon were already there, temporarily delegating their roles to responsible members of their classes.

And Victor was the last to join.

Everybody looked awful. They surrounded the conference table like the poorest group of executives he’d ever seen, having turned several shades darker from all the dirt and soot they gathered. Alba stood on the right side with the B-Ranks. Althea was resting her head on the table, a small water bottle in her hands; Vernon sat back and stared at the ceiling; Damien was idly checking his conjuration staff acting like nothing was wrong with the world (he’d always been a freak); and Leona was leaning beside a window, peering through the blinds.

On the left were Team Luster and Professor Hei. Jury was speaking to Hei near the whiteboard, with a hastily drawn map and preliminary ideas. Hidden and Montana were tending to one another’s wounds, with medical supplies plus a few empty [Healing Potions] on the table.

As Alexander came in with Victor, everyone turned to look.

“Alright, we can start,” a strange voice had said. From the corner, a small figure, a man(?) had appeared and suddenly hopped onto the table. He was too short to jump that distance, but magic seemingly lifted him.

He wore a heavy black cloak that was several sizes too large for him, where his sleeves dangled past his hands. Still, it didn’t stop him from parting his purple curls off his red, snake-like eyes, looking around the conference room, sharp and attentive.

Then Victor saw it. He nudged Alexander. “Hey hey, why is there a kid here?”

Because that “man” couldn’t be no older than ten or eleven.

Alexander shrugged. “Well…”

The boy frowned, flapping his long sleeves at Victor. “This is why I wear this cloak. No, I may be physically ten-years-old but I am mentally twenty-five. Yes, I am exactly who you suspect: Morgan Hoshino, Problem. Now, can we begin?”