“So. Pascal, what can you tell me about this place?” Nikita Takahashi asked the captain of her guard.

They were at the heart of the city, standing before the main building of one of the most prestigious schools in the kingdom. Students and staff alike were gathered at the school grounds, surrounded by police and other emergency personnel. News crews and aspects of the City Guard have already gotten wind of the situation.

“The castle belongs to House Nakashima,” her captain said. “Thirteen years ago, it was repurposed into a school for noble children, but has since started accepting lowborn magi as well. We’ve tried contacting Nakashima representatives, but we have little luck.” he flipped through the data pad with a dull expression. “The headmaster confirmed that most of the students and staff made it out alive, save for a handful of students.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Nikita Takahashi let out a huff of hot air.

“Students that were too hung over or too busy partying?” she mused. “Either way, that just means that we have people to rescue.” she drooped her shoulders. “Unbelievable. And here I was expecting a quiet night.”

Pascal’s old eyes looked toward the ominous castle.

“Quiet nights come rare in this kingdom, Your Grace.”

“Sure enough.” she replied, her eyes drifting toward a distant object in the sky.

It was called a Rift. It hung in the sky as a flat disc, a miniature black hole, a gateway to another world. Rifts came in all shapes and sizes, but all served the same purpose. They heralded the coming of an Old God. The Rift floated high in the night sky, pouring out white light amidst the darkness. It was as large as a stadium and brighter than the moon.

The Rifts started appearing two years ago, in all their magnificence. They appeared everywhere, above kingdoms, small settlements, and in the middles of nowhere alike.

It was never a good sign when a Rift emerged.

“I’ll start moving in a sec.” Nikita said, a gust of wind causing her auburn hair to dance.

Born into one of the Great Noble Houses, Nikita was an example of noble, ladylike grace. Yet for all her beauty and kindness, few people knew her personally. She was more of an icon, a status symbol if anything. Even now people gathered behind her, their phones raised in a struggle to take snapshots of her.

It was hard being famous, she thought with a sly grin.

“Are there any VIPs or psychopaths inside that I should look out for?” she asked. “Or should I expect the usual?”

“There have been no reports of Saori Nakashima being found.” Pascal said as a matter-of-factly. “Perhaps you should look out for her?”

Saori Nakashima.

If memory serves her right, the girl was the only daughter of Lady Izabel. Being a noble herself, Nikita was familiar with most of the highborn houses of Kria. Saori Nakashima was a small, shy girl who always looked like she’d rather be somewhere else. Finding her was an utmost priority.

The castle-school before Nikita was hauntingly quiet. The exterior walls were cracked and small bits of smoke rose from the high chambers. She could feel the presence of the Guardian inside. She felt like something was reaching out to her, deep within the castle walls.

Only she could feel the presence— she as The Messenger.

Only she and one other.

“Two minutes and we’re moving in.” she announced loud enough for everyone to hear. Instantly, everyone’s attention moved to her.

Pascal nodded in compliance, his grey eyes moving toward the rest of her guards. Ten soldiers stood behind Nikita, their armored forms bearing the scale-and-scholar insignia of her house. They instantly stood at attention, their rifles to their chests.

Unlike them, Nikita herself was dressed in a casual red cardigan and a skirt.

An attire very much unfitting for battle.

Still, that concerned her little. Everyone present was aware of the power she had.

A terrible roar echoed from the castle-school and the air grew still. Straight ahead, upon the half-open doors of the inner keep, a pair of steel hands emerged the darkness. The doors slowly opened, the wood splintering and the metal giving way. The City Guard present shouted at the crowd to stay back as they prepared their weapons. Nikita’s own guardsmen rushed to her side, falling to a knee and shouldering their rifles.

What emerged from the castle was a Guardian, a living creature of steel, fire, and ancient magic. As the keep’s doors fell before it, crushed from its immense strength, it began to stride forward. It towered at ten feet tall. Its shoulders were broad and its head was sharp steel. The creature’s long metal arms were unattached from its body, almost reaching the ground. Runes of an ancient language ran across its entire body, glowing in angry gold.

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The creature locked eyes with Nikita almost instantly.

There was a connection there, a primal link that existed between predator and prey.

With a roar that sounded like grinding steel, it rushed straight forward. The ground broke beneath its stride as it tore through the castle grounds, a giant of steel. Dozens of rifles came to life, peppering the air with bullets that travelled at a percentage of the speed of light.

The bullets bounced off creature’s armor like nothing.

Its charge continued, moving forward like a racing car. The crowd of onlookers began to step back, others already running at the sight. At thirty meters away obvious signs of panic began appearing on the faces of the City Guard. Twenty-five meters and some have already broken rank. Nikita’s own guards began to hesitate as it approached at twenty.

Nikita stood her ground with the most unimpressed look in the world.

With nary a gesture, she drew within herself the power of the Messenger. Magical energy burned to life around her. Outlines of swords and spears floated to her left and right, glowing an iridescent red. Eight weapons appeared in total, five swords and three spears. The crowd stood in awe at the display, before the weapons began to vibrate from the outpour of magical energy.

She narrowed her eyes, watching as the steel Guardian continued to barrel toward her.

The first blade sped forward with all the force of a modern rocket. Its launch shattered the sound barrier, sending a deafening boom blooming outward. The shockwave almost flattens bystanders, sending civilians and guards alike falling to their knees.

The first sword crashed into the Guardian, embedding itself into its armor and throwing the beast back. The monster roared defiantly, but the second and third blades were already on their way. The claymore and the long sword caught the beast by its knees, causing it to fall hard into the ground. The rest of the weapons followed soon after, launched just microseconds apart.

The final blade, a spear, hung beside Nikita as a cloud of dust floated around the Guardian. She reached and touched the blade with her finger, sending a red spark running across its length.

The spear flew forward with more force than the other blades; the cemented ground breaking apart from the sheer force of its trajectory. It crashed into the cloud of dust and hit the Guardian square in the forehead. The ensuing explosion was bright enough to be seen from across the city. Dust, debris, and fragments of steel bloomed into the air as the windows of nearby cars broke apart.

Silence hung in the air when it was over.

Nikita crossed her arms, satisfied that she no longer felt the Guardian’s presence.

“Pascal.” she called out to her captain. “Please inform Secretary Sonis of what happened here, specifically about my heroic deeds accidentally blowing up everyone’s windows.”

“I’m sure everyone here has insurance, Your Grace.” the captain said plainly, his eyes focused on a holographic display on his forearm.

“Wait, getting caught in the Messenger’s powers is insurable now?”

“Yes. The Empire has decided to pay for any damages that may result in your actions.”

Nikita placed a hand to her chin. “I am not surprised. It was about time they implemented that.” she shrugged and began to walk toward the castle, “Is everyone alright? Cool? No broken bones or popped eardrums?”

The crowd replied with pained groans and stares of confusion.

“Alright.” she nodded and began increasing her pace. “Pascal, maintain the perimeter with the captain of the City Guard. I’m moving in to sort this out—”

“Your Grace!” there was urgency to Pascal’s voice. “Please wait. I’ve received a message from House Maxwell, informing us that His Grace is on the way to assist you—”

Nikita looked about as amused as a pile of rocks.

“Tell His Grace that I have no wish to see him.” she scoffed. “I’m still angry at him and I’d rather just do this alone. Plus, I don’t need him. This is all just a silly infestation, I’ll get this sorted out in no time.”

“Your Grace,” Pascal said respectfully. “He is the Messenger as well; confronting the Guardians is his responsibility as much as yours.”

“That’s true.” she considered. “I’m still going ahead though. When Chaos arrives, please tell him not to interfere.”

She scoffed as she walked. “I just might mistake him for the enemy.”