The control room of the Domain Clearance Association buzzed with frantic energy, a cacophony of urgent voices and rapid keystrokes. The air was thick with the sharp tang of burnt coffee and sweat. Technicians hunched over their consoles, eyes glued to fluctuating data streams. Domain #1125’s readings were spiking wildly, making the instruments—and the people—go haywire.

“What is happening?” one of the senior technicians barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.

“The domain’s mana levels are unstable,” another technician responded, panic threading through her voice. “These fluctuations are off the charts. If it’s not already volatile, it’s about to be.”

Jasmine Everstone, the Raid Director, stood at the center of the chaos, her sharp eyes scanning the screens. Her pristine white blazer remained spotless, as if the stress couldn’t touch her. Her calm amidst the storm was almost unnatural.

“Any updates from the Guild Leaders?” she asked, her tone measured but firm.

A technician shook his head. “Their communications with their Raiders are breaking up, Director.”

A nervous cough drew Jasmine’s attention. A female technician with wild curls and wide eyes stepped forward, clutching a tablet.

“Director,” she began hesitantly, her voice trembling slightly. “Our projections show that if the domain becomes volatile, the damage radius will cover at least an acre. But... given its proximity to the city center…” She trailed off, swallowing hard.

Jasmine raised an eyebrow. “Mortality rate?”

“High,” the technician admitted, her knuckles whitening around the tablet.

“Patch me through to all Guild Leaders participating in this raid,” Jasmine ordered, folding her arms. “Let them know to send backup immediately.”

Jasmine didn’t miss a beat as she continued to issue orders. “Send out an evacuation directive—two-acre radius. And put all A-Class Healers and Raiders on standby. I want every resource available if this thing blows.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the technician said, her relief evident as she scurried back to her station.

Jasmine turned back to the main console as three profile pictures popped onto the screen. Eryx Arcanix. Darku Kliener. Elara Max. Her brow furrowed at the last name.

“Elara Max?” Jasmine murmured, her lips curling into a half-smirk. “Didn’t peg her as the type to join this circus. Isn’t she an independent?”

A nearby technician nodded. “That’s correct, Director. She usually doesn’t work with guilds, but it looks like she’s registered as a contractor with the Crystal Guild for this one.”

“Interesting,” Jasmine said, her gaze lingering on Elara’s profile. “Patch me into their feeds as soon as the comms stabilize.”

Deep underground, in a sterile research facility bathed in pale blue light, a different kind of tension thrummed. Researchers sat in neat rows before monitors, their faces lit by the glow of cascading data. At the center of the room, a tall man with sleek black hair adjusted his glasses, his piercing gaze fixed on a large screen displaying the live feed of Domain #1125.

The screen showed glimpses of chaos: distorted landscapes, flickering mana currents, and the flurry of news crews and backup arriving at the domain's entrance. The man’s expression was unreadable, his posture impossibly straight.

A sharp ringtone broke the silence. He pulled a sleek phone from his pocket, answering it with a clipped, “Yes?”

The voice on the other end was skeptical, bordering on accusatory. “Are you certain your calculations are correct? The investment we’ve—”

The man cut him off, his tone icy. “Our measures are precise. Eryx Arcanix is the only one capable of pulling the core with his shadow abilities.”

“And if he fails?” the voice pressed.

The man’s lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “He doesn’t fail.”

The call ended abruptly, and the man returned his attention to the screen. His fingers drummed against the console rhythmically. “Everything is proceeding as planned,” he murmured to himself. “Let’s see if the Prince of Darkness lives up to his reputation.”

Elara crouched next to a body lying nearby. The older woman had dark brown hair and the embroidered emblem of the Pearl Guild on her left arm. Elara flipped her eyepatch up and did a quick examination to determine the body’s injuries—poison affecting motor control, a few flesh wounds, but nothing life-threatening. Though even if there were, she wasn’t planning on playing hero again.

She used her dagger to slice through a vine, picking up the detached appendage to examine it closer. Thin needles began to protrude from the vine’s surface. A botanic monster with poison abilities? Z would love this. Elara removed a container and dropped a sample into it before tossing the container back into her pack.

Hopping around the body-littered ground, Elara made her way closer to the core. It should have glowed blue—a vibrant, steady light. Instead, streams of rust-colored energy swirled within it, seeping through its surface like poison. She’d never seen anything like it.

The air around it felt heavy, oppressive, and wrong. Elara’s instincts screamed at her to turn back, but she gritted her teeth and stepped closer. The core felt... sick.

The dagger in her hand pulsed faintly, its warmth spreading up her arm. She tightened her grip, her eyes scanning the area for traps or movement.

Still nothing.

“Strange,” she whispered. And it was. The vines, the lack of resistance—it all felt wrong. She’d encountered enough domains to know this one was abnormal.

She edged closer to the core, raising the dagger. The vines at the edge of the clearing quivered but didn’t advance, seemingly repelled by the blade. Elara took another step forward, her boots crunching on dried leaves.

A low hum vibrated through the air as she neared the base, her pulse quickening in response. As long as the core was detached from the domain grounds and removed from the entrance, the domain would seal, and the core could be used as an energy source.

Pull the core, exit the domain, pawn off the core, and get paid. It sounded like the perfect plan to Elara.