127: First Mission
He swiped to answer. "Hello?"
A deep, familiar voice, calm and measured, came through the speaker. "Kai. I heard the news. Congratulations on clearing Phase One." It was Tom. He sounded genuinely pleased, but there was a business-like efficiency underlying his words.
"Thanks, Tom," Kai replied, a hint of a proud smile on his face. The memory of his victory was still fresh and sweet.
"And please," Tom continued, his tone shifting slightly, "convey my sympathies to Moon. I reviewed the feed. He came very close. It was a tough break."
Before Tom could say more, Kai cut in. His brother's failure was a sore subject, and he knew Moon, sitting a few feet away, could hear every word. "Tom, why did you call?"
There was a brief pause on the other end, as if Tom was slightly taken aback by the directness. "Oh. Right. Yes, of course, I didn't call just for hellos. Your first official mission has been assigned. Both of you. Get to the Ashveil Order teleporter immediately. I'm sending the coordinates now."
Almost as if on cue, a soft ping sounded from Moon's wrist device. Moon glanced down at the screen, his expression unchanging. "The teleporter code just came through," he announced flatly, already getting to his feet.
Kai nodded into the phone. "We'll be there in ten minutes." He ended the call and slipped the communicator back into his pocket. "You heard him. Mission time."
Moon was already moving. He had, in fact, been listening to the entire conversation. He walked to his large, sliding-door closet and pulled it open with a sharp rasp. Inside, the sight was almost monotonous. Row upon row of identical black shirts and black pants hung neatly, with only a few articles in different, muted colors breaking the monochrome pattern. It was a practical wardrobe for someone who valued function over fashion.
His hand moved instinctively towards yet another black shirt, but then it stopped. His eyes caught on a splash of color tucked away in the corner. A vibrant red jacket, bold and unapologetic, hung next to a pair of plaid pajama pants with a sharp black and grey check pattern. Moon stared at them for a long moment. He realized he was tired of the endless sea of black. He was bored of looking like a shadow.
Without a second thought, he grabbed the red jacket and the plaid pants. He pulled them on over a simple black t-shirt. The outfit was a chaotic mix of styles—casual, almost lazy sleepwear paired with a statement jacket. It shouldn't have worked, but on Moon, with his careless attitude, it just did.
Kai, ever the traditionalist, had simply changed into his standard uniform: a crisp white shirt, black trousers, and polished black shoes. He waited in the hallway, leaning against the wall .
The sound of footsteps made him look up. When he saw Moon emerging from his room, Kai's eyebrows shot up so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. He was speechless for a good five seconds, his eyes scanning the red jacket and the checkered pants.
"Wow," Kai finally managed, a slow grin spreading across his face. "What's this? Suddenly get bored of your 'mysterious shadow' aesthetic?"
Moon shrugged, adjusting the cuff of his jacket. "A little bit," he replied, his voice as deadpan as ever.
Kai just shook his head, chuckling. "Unbelievable. Come on, 'Crownless King of Pain', we've got a mission to get to."
Moon shot him a glare that could freeze fire, but Kai was already walking away, laughing. Together, they headed to the teleporter room in their home. The small, circular chamber hummed with latent energy. Kai input the long, complex code Tom had sent into the control panel.
The machine whirred to life, and the room was instantly flooded with that now-familiar, deep crimson light. It pulsed from the core of the teleporter, casting long, dramatic shadows across their faces. Without a word, the two brothers stepped into the center of the red glow. There was a brief sensation of being pulled apart and put back together, a dizzying lurch, and then the world dissolved around them.
The biting cold hit them before their vision even cleared. They found themselves standing in a vast, snowy landscape. Towering, jagged mountains stretched towards a pale grey sky, their peaks hidden in mist. A relentless wind whipped fine, icy snow into their faces. The air was thin and crisp, each breath forming a small cloud.
Before them, nestled in a valley between two colossal ice-covered peaks, was a structure. Above ground, it was deceptively small—just a simple, two-story building made of dark grey metal, its windows frosted over. But the scale of the machinery and ventilation systems surrounding it, with massive pipes sinking deep into the mountain rock, suggested that the true facility sprawled out extensively underground, a hidden fortress buried beneath the ice.
They trudged through the deep snow towards the entrance, which slid open silently as they approached. Inside, the air was warm and dry. They were met by a silent attendant who gestured for them to follow as if he already knows about them . He led them down a series of sterile, brightly lit corridors that sloped downwards, deep into the mountain's heart. Finally, they arrived at a heavy, reinforced door. The attendant nodded, and the door hissed open, revealing the VVIP meeting room.
The room was large and circular, with a wide, panoramic window offering a breathtaking, if forbidding, view of the snowstorm outside. In the center was a large, polished metallic table shaped like a crescent moon.
At the head of the table, in the central position of authority, sat Tom. His massive, eight-foot-tall frame was even more imposing in person. His muscular body was relaxed but radiated an undeniable power. A small, genuine smile touched his lips when he saw the brothers enter.
Seated around the table were the other key members of this mission. To Tom's left was a man who looked like he had just crawled out of a ditch. This was Ryo Hale. He was slumped in his chair, his legs clad in stained, old red robes, propped up disrespectfully on the table itself. His long, matted red hair looked like it hadn't been washed in weeks, and a faint, unpleasant odor of sweat and dirt emanated from him. He was completely disengaged, rolling a small, glowing energy crystal between his fingers, utterly bored.
Next to Ryo was another redhead, Daren Hale. Though from the same clan, Daren was Ryo's opposite in presentation. He sat upright, dressed in clean, functional combat gear, his expression serious as he watched the briefing.
On Tom's right sat the Xiao brothers. Ken Xiao had long, jet-black hair that flowed over the shoulders of his elegant, black Chinese kimono. His face was a mask of calm concentration. Beside him, his younger brother, Shi Xiao, had short, spiky black hair and a perpetual, easy-going smile plastered on his face, as if he were at a party rather than a mission briefing.
The focus of the room, except for Ryo, was on a man standing a few feet from the table. He was manipulating a large, intricate 3D holographic map of a dense, futuristic cityscape, using hand gestures to zoom in on specific buildings and highlight security patrols. He was trying, with some difficulty, to explain the complex infiltration route.
"—and if we can bypass the primary sensor grid here, using the thermal updrafts from the fusion core, we can gain access through the secondary ventilation shaft," the man was saying, his voice tense.
Just then, a soft hum filled the room, and a section of the wall behind Tom glowed with the same red light of the teleporter. A platform materialized, and Kai and Moon stepped off it, their arrival announced by the light.
The holographic presentation stopped. All eyes in the room turned to look at the newcomers. The mission coordinator looked annoyed at the interruption. Ken Xiao studied them with analytical interest. Shi Xiao's smile widened. Daren gave them a curt nod. Ryo didn't even glance up from his energy crystal.
But it was Tom's reaction that mattered most. The small smile on his face grew wider and more sincere. He looked at Kai and Moon, his eyes holding a glint of anticipation. The team was now complete. The mission was about to begin.
To be continued…