CHAPTER 151: LOGS

They crossed back over the perimeter barrier a few minutes later, boots hitting reinforced metal plates instead of dirt. The instant Lucen stepped through, the difference hit him, like someone had unplugged the tension from his chest.

The dungeon was behind them now. The break had closed. The pulse of danger that had been threading through every breath? Gone.

He inhaled deep. Stretched his arms. Let the sword rest across his back again, blade stained at the tip.

The guild checkpoint tent buzzed with low chatter and clinks of armor and coffee cups. People were sitting, checking their systems, typing quick summaries into the mission logs.

A guy near the rear had a bloodied wrap around his shoulder and was bragging loudly about how he "tagged the core beast’s leg just before it fell."

Lucen walked past him.

Gen nudged him from the side. "You want to claim the final hit?"

Lucen grunted. "I’m not writing a blog."

Gabe waved them over. "Here."

They approached a folding table where several guild staff were inputting entries into the Rift Log database. Gabe handed them both small black tags, single-use tokens that looked like credit chips but heavier.

"Proof of participation," she said. "Scan it at the guild desk for formal credit. Rank points too. Might be delayed because of that knockdown incident, though."

Lucen didn’t even blink. "I’m not apologizing."

Gabe gave him a long look. Then shrugged. "He was about to swing first. The other guy would’ve cried either way."

Gen added, "Lucen’s fast. That’s what matters. Not his customer service."

Someone else approached, field captain type, mid-thirties, dark brown skin, armored up even for paperwork. He extended a hand toward Lucen.

"You the sword kid?"

Lucen blinked. "I guess."

"Good form back there. We caught it on drone." He gave a quick nod. "Might be a spot for you next time we run main breach teams. You trained under someone?"

Lucen hesitated. "Sort of."

The man grinned. "That’s how the good ones start."

He left before Lucen could say anything back.

Lucen glanced down at the token in his hand, then over at Gabe. "Is this thing worth anything?"

She smirked. "Depends what you pick at the exchange. Not credits, though. Resources. Gear. Some enhancements."

Gen leaned over. "They have mystery boxes."

Lucen frowned. "Like, literal boxes?"

"Yeah," Gen said. "Could be a dagger. Could be a jacket. Could be a sandwich. No one knows."

Lucen looked at him. "That’s... somehow awful and great."

"Exactly."

They finished the wrap-up fast. Drones buzzed low overhead. Survey teams checked terrain while the last of the core’s mana bleed settled into dormancy.

Lucen felt the last of it fade behind him as they boarded the return van, one of the tall, armored guild transports that looked like the offspring of a troop carrier and a mobile command post.

Inside, it was quiet. Benches lined both walls. Gen threw himself onto one and immediately opened a snack pouch.

Lucen sat across from him, elbow on one knee, sword leaned against the wall beside him. He exhaled. Closed his eyes briefly. Then opened them again when Gen crunched loudly into something.

"I still don’t get how you eat right after fights."

"It’s the trauma, man," Gen said, through a mouthful. "Burns calories."

Lucen snorted.

They hit the city border checkpoint ten minutes later. Traffic routes cleared ahead of them thanks to guild authority tags. Civilians stared through tinted windows, maybe trying to see if someone famous was inside.

Lucen leaned against the wall, head tilted back. ’That sword work wasn’t just muscle. The mana moved differently when I fought. Like I wasn’t forcing it, just guiding it.’

Then: ’Feels dangerous. But clean.’

They arrived at the guild compound just past nightfall. As Lucen stepped off the van, he spotted her, Gabe, waiting by the mission intake desk.

"Briefing’s tomorrow," she said. "Sleep if you can."

Lucen nodded. "I’m good."

She watched him a second longer. "You were in sync today."

"Guess I’m finally figuring things out."

"No," Gabe said. "You’re not. But you’re close."

He blinked. Then smiled. "That’s fair."

She turned and walked off.

Lucen headed home.

—

He hit the apartment entrance just as the smartlights flicked on down the hall. The elevator felt slower than usual. His legs burned a little, arms tight from tension that hadn’t fully settled.

When he opened the door, Varik was already inside, standing by the window with one hand on the frame. The sword Lucen trained with leaned beside him.

Lucen stepped in and kicked his shoes off. "Did you break in?"

Varik glanced at him. "You gave me a key."

Lucen made a face. "Still creepy."

Varik folded his arms. "You were in a rift."

"Yeah."

Varik looked him over. "You used it?"

Lucen nodded. "I cut the big one."

"How’d it feel?"

Lucen exhaled, walked past him toward the fridge. "Like cheating. The mana inside didn’t push back. It pulled through. Just—" He stopped. "It felt like the sword knew what I wanted before I did."

Varik didn’t answer immediately.

Lucen turned. "You’ve felt that, right?"

Varik finally nodded. "Yes."

There was a beat of silence.

Lucen opened the fridge. "No food."

Varik raised an eyebrow. "You mean I didn’t stock your fridge for you?"

Lucen looked at him, dry. "You trained me for three months. Minimum snack bar rights."

Varik shrugged. "Your sword swing today broke three system sensors."

Lucen blinked. "Wait, seriously?"

"Your mana saturation spiked mid-fight. If you had gone five seconds longer—"

Lucen held up a hand. "Don’t say anything about implosion. Just say it looked cool."

Varik didn’t smile. But his eyes were lighter. "It looked dangerous."

Lucen leaned against the counter. "Cool enough."

—

Outside, the city was dimming. Drones overhead. Distant lights blinking past the clouds. The night smelled of neon and concrete dust.

Lucen sat on the couch with his feet up, sword across his lap. He tapped his system panel once. Stats hovered in faint blue.

Strength: +1

Dexterity: +1

’Not much. But it’s something.’

He thought about the guy he knocked out, how fast his body moved. No delay. No calculation.

It worried him. A little.

Not the strength.

The control.

It was starting to feel... natural.

He leaned back, sword across his knees, and stared at the ceiling.

’Tomorrow’s quiet. Probably.’

Then again, it rarely was.