The following morning, light filtered in through the reinforced glass of his room. Soft chimes from the Outpost's internal time system marked the shift change. Asrel rose, refreshed but quiet, the memory of his new core still humming in his body.
He stepped out and found Rook waiting by the Diver's camp gate.
"Morning," Rook said, handing over a small dataplate. "This is your designation. You're officially part of Field Unit 12."
Asrel accepted it with a nod. His name was engraved beside the unit seal, stylized twin blades crossing over a ripple of Flux lines.
"Congratulations," Rook continued. "You're now a recognized Diver."
As they walked through the camp, Rook gave him a rundown of the structure.
"There are fifteen field units here in Verge. All of us report to Lieutenant Sera.
He paused briefly, then added, "Aside from us, the other division here—the Wardens. They handle perimeter defense, man the gates, and deal with any breach incidents. If something slips past us, the Wardens are the last wall."
Asrel looked thoughtful. "So it's just the two of you holding the line out here?"
"That's right. Verge isn't a Sanctuary. We don't have luxury personnel or research teams. Divers go out, Wardens hold the base. Everyone else falls under logistics or support, but they aren't their own divisions."
Asrel nodded, beginning to understand the chain of responsibility. Two main arms, one to scout and strike, the other to stand and guard.
Asrel glanced toward the outer wall of the Outpost. The barrier shimmered faintly in the distance, a quiet reminder of how thin the line between life and death could be.
"I understand," he said.
Rook gathered his squad outside their quarters, his arms crossed and expression proud as he addressed the team.
"Alright, listen up. As of today, we officially welcome our sixth member, Asrel."
The group gave approving nods, some offering brief salutes. Kick grinned beneath his tousled hair.
"With Asrel's addition, our success rate just tripled," he quipped. "I can already taste the shorter deployment rotations."
"Don't jinx it," Lira muttered, though a small smile tugged at the edge of her lips.
"Next, you'll have to visit the armory and get issued your equipment," Rook continued. "Brenn will take you there and walk you through the standard kit."
Brenn gave a short wave. "Come on, Asrel. Let's gear you up."
As they walked through the outpost's winding paths, faint hums of power lines, and distant chatter filled the background.
"I don't know if you'll really need one of the suits or the helmet, with how you're immune to the Miasma," Brenn said casually, glancing at him. "But regulation is regulation. You should still wear them during ops."
They arrived at the armory, a fortified chamber sealed with two doors and guarded by armed personnel. Inside, racks of gear lined the walls: rows of polished rifles, flux sabers hanging from magnetized mounts, reinforced suits arranged by size and specialization. An armory attendant approached as they entered.
"New recruit?" the attendant asked.
"Yeah, Field Unit 12. Name's Asrel," Brenn replied, handing over his temporary registration.
The attendant scanned Asrel's ID chip and nodded. "Standard loadout, beginner calibration."
Asrel was issued a full suit: black and silver with faint lines that pulsed blue when Flux was channeled through it. The helmet is a standard-grade gas mask, its faceplate curved and reinforced, with integrated filters along the jawline. He was also handed a basic flux saber with variable-length settings and a standard flux rifle designed to draw energy directly from the user's Core.
"These are baseline models," the attendant explained. "Once your compatibility is evaluated, we can tune them further."
Brenn leaned closer and said in a lower tone, "All of this works off Flux. The suit's life support, the weaponry, it's all synced to your Core. If you haven't formed one yet, you'll need to head to the enrichment chamber. Trainers there help guide new recruits through the process."
"Actually... I already formed one. Last night," Asrel said, almost as an afterthought.
Brenn blinked. "Wait, what?"
"I just did it. Instinctively, I guess."
"You mean… you're already at the Formed Core Stage? Without any prep? Without a guide?"
"I didn't think it was that unusual."
Brenn gave him a look that hovered somewhere between disbelief and awe. "Man, that's… rare. Really rare. You're either crazy talented or something else entirely."
Asrel offered a vague shrug. "Still figuring that part out."
They moved toward one of the equipment benches as Brenn began explaining further.
"So, here's how it works. First stage is the Formed Core, that's what you're in now. It means the core has manifested, but it's still raw and unstable."
He tapped his own chest lightly. "Second stage is Stabilized Core. In this phase, your energy becomes more predictable and controllable. Most people reach this within a week or two of training, depending on aptitude."
"Then comes Refined Core," he continued. "Your core strengthens, your output becomes smoother, and efficiency goes up. Most Divers operate at this stage."
"I assume that's where you are?"
"Yeah, me, Kick, and Nessa. Lira's a bit further."
Brenn went on. "Next is the Engraved Core. This is where things start changing for real. Your body begins adapting, nerves, bones, reflexes. Some people show external signs, like glowing patterns or resonance hums. Energy moves freely within your body."
"And after that?"
"Fifth is the Harmonized Core. The boundary between will and energy fades, your power becomes an extension of your intent."
Asrel nodded thoughtfully.
"Are there stages after that?"
"Maybe," Brenn said, his voice dropping slightly. "Rumor is, there's more. Stages that aren't public. High-level classifications. You usually don't get told until you reach Harmonized. Some say there's a reason behind the secrecy."
Asrel absorbed the information in silence. His gaze drifted toward the flux saber at his hip. His Chaos Core pulsed quietly in his chest, undisturbed. The Flux Core in his lower abdomen remained still and obedient. Two cores. Two paths.
And now, a new team.
After collecting his gear, Asrel followed Brenn back across the outpost walkways. They regrouped at the Diver camp, where the rest of Unit 12 was already assembled.
Rook stood near the map table, waiting. Once the two returned, he gestured for everyone to gather closer. The map shows terrain information and route projections.
"We've got a new Dive," Rook announced, tapping a point on the flickering display. "Escort mission. Unit 6 reported the possible discovery of an old mining vein roughly 200 klicks northwest of here. A site long buried under a minor collapse, but initial scans show promise."
The map zoomed in on a scarred ridge nestled between two faded plateaus. Terrain lines pulsed with depth readings and seismic data.
"Risk assessment is Level 2," Rook continued. "Low to Mid threat, with smooth terrain. Unit 6 already mapped the area during recon, so navigation won't be blind."
He brought up a second data set showing group deployment.
"The mission team consists of us, Unit 6, one squad of Wardens, and a team of Miners. Our role is to provide escort and perimeter defense while the Miners assess viability. If the vein proves rich in mineral ores, it might be worth reopening."
There was a brief pause as the unit absorbed the information.
"We move out tomorrow. Assemble at Gate 3 by 0700 hours. Use the time until then to prepare, both logistically and mentally."
As the briefing concluded, the team dispersed to their respective corners of the camp to begin prepping.
Asrel turned to Brenn. "So… what sort of preparations are standard for these kinds of missions?"
Brenn, already checking the seal lines of his helmet, glanced up. "Mostly supply management. We pack for extended field time, this one could last a few weeks depending on weather, terrain, or monster interference."
He clicked one of his equipment pouches into place. "Don't worry, though. We'll be using haulers, transport rigs loaded with rations, medical supplies, extra weapons, spare battery cores. Everyone gets their personal crate loaded on board."
Asrel nodded. "And personal prep?"
"Gear maintenance. Make sure everything's clean, and mission ready. And once the full terrain data is sent to us, we study it. Knowing the land is half the fight."
With time to spare before the mission, Asrel joined Brenn at the outpost's designated training ground, specifically the Flux Rifle Range, a sectioned-off facility beneath the main complex. The entire room buzzed faintly with energy, and the walls shimmered with shock-absorbing panels designed to neutralize even unstable projectiles.
"This is where we hone our marksmanship," Brenn said, leading him toward one of the rifle booths. "Good thing you formed your core already. Otherwise, this thing would just be a heavy stick."
Laid on the table was Asrel's standard-issue Dual-Mode Flux Rifle, sleek, matte-black with embedded flux lines running along the barrel. The body of the rifle was compact, able to shift configuration with a slight pull and twist. A glowing core chamber at the rear pulsed faintly with violet-blue light.
"Let's start with the basics."
Brenn walked him through the rifle's operation. "This model has two modes: Assault and Sniper. You switch between them with this side latch. Assault Mode gives you short burst projectiles, less power but faster firing. Sniper Mode compresses the Flux into a single high-velocity shot. Slower, but stronger and more precise."
He picked up a rifle and demonstrated. As he gripped the handle, the core lit brighter.
"The rifle doesn't come with its own battery," he explained. "It's powered by your own Flux Core. Just by channeling energy into the grip, the internal converter turns it into a stable projectile. Efficient, but it means if your core runs low, your gun runs dry."
Brenn fired in both modes, hitting the distant reinforced targets cleanly. Each shot released a satisfying pulse of blue light, accompanied by a subtle recoil. The energy dissipated on impact without damaging the containment field, showcasing the room's absorption tech.
He then handed the rifle to Asrel.
"Now your turn."
Asrel gripped the weapon. At first, the energy transfer was uneven, the light inside the rifle flickering erratically. But with a focused breath, he stabilized the output, drawing Flux smoothly into the rifle. It began to hum steadily.
He squeezed the trigger, three blue bolts burst out in Assault Mode, punching into the center of the target.
"Not bad," Brenn nodded. "Try switching modes."
Asrel toggled the rifle to Sniper Mode. He drew in more energy, compressing it like he would when condensing Flux in his core. A singular, precise beam burst forth, striking the upper ring of the next target with enough force to rattle the containment glass.
"You've got control," Brenn said, impressed. "Keep practicing. I'll be going first."
He gave Asrel a casual wave and left him to it.
Asrel stayed, cycling through both modes, testing shots at different ranges and pacing. The rifle's balance, the hum of energy, and the recoil, all of it became familiar with each pull of the trigger.
Eventually, his shoulders relaxed, and his breathing synced with the rhythm of charging and firing. The act of channeling Flux into a weapon became instinctive.
By the time he holstered the rifle and stepped off the range, he felt more than just competent.
That night, Asrel sat alone in his assigned quarter. His new gear rested neatly along the bench—helmet, suit, saber, and rifle. The hum of Verge Outpost's distant generators buzzed faintly through the walls.
He reviewed the mission brief again, then brought his focus inward.
Based on Brenn's earlier breakdown, Asrel could now clearly sense the difference between his two cores.
His Flux Core is within the Refined Stage, stable, efficient, and increasingly responsive. The energy flowed through him with clarity, enhancing movement and perception, but without permanent changes to his body.
His Chaos Core, however, had already surpassed that. He felt it deeper, more rooted in his being, etched into his muscles, humming in his bones. The way it surged through his nerves left no doubt: it had reached the Engraved Stage