The cafeteria was quieter than usual that evening, the hum of distant machinery replacing the usual

  clatter of voices and trays. Bash and his team entered together, their armor still faintly dusted from

  another successful grey-portal run. They found their usual table along the far wall and sank into their

  seats, exhaustion tempered by quiet satisfaction.

  They’d earned it.

  Another day’s haul, clean, efficient, and well above projections.

  Bash flicked open his datapad, charts and numbers reflecting off his eyes as he scanned their

  performance metrics. “Six days left under the military umbrella,” he said, tone measured. “And we’re

  quite a bit ahead of schedule.”

  Rixor leaned back with a grunt. “Good. Means we’ll have time to fine-tune the loadouts before the

  cutoff.”

  “Assuming no one screws it up,” Nyra murmured, smirking faintly over her cup.

  Before Bash could reply, movement caught his eye, two figures approaching through the rows of tables.

  Thane and Kira.

  Both looked freshly equipped, still carrying the residual sheen of newly repaired armor. They stopped a

  few steps from the table, hesitant but resolute.

  “Bash,” Thane began, voice steady. “We wanted to ask again. About joining your team.”

  Bash sighed softly, setting his datapad down. He replied. “Don’t take this personal, but you’d be a

  liability right now.”

  Kira stepped forward, determination clear in her eyes. “We traded in everything from today’s run, one

  hundred forty T2G fragments. With what we had saved, we’ve already got a full set of T2C gear just

  finished tonight.” She smiled faintly. “We won’t hold anyone back.”

  Bash regarded her for a long moment, then shook his head. “It’s not about gear,” he said evenly. “It’s

  about cohesion, about knowing how to move with a team that’s already tuned to each other’s rhythms.”

  Across the table, Taren exhaled and glanced at the others. “It’s only six more days,” she said. “Another

  healer, another frontliner. We can handle that.”

  Rixor frowned. “And lose fragments splitting them two more ways?”

  Before Bash could respond, S-C’s voice flickered softly in his head.

  Based on current rate of collection, total Beast Fragment yield remains sufficient to meet all target gear

  acquisitions, she said. Even with two additional members, the team would complete all projected T2A

  purchases, with surplus equivalent to one additional T2A piece and two T2G, or twenty-two T2G total.

  That surplus could be allocated toward Kira and Thane without jeopardizing existing plans.

  Furthermore, she added, her tone cooling into strategy, this would be an optimal moment to finalize

  individual loadouts. You and the others should each purchase one T2A piece now and fill remaining

  slots with T2G, reserving a single open slot for your final T2A at cycle’s end. This approach will

  maximize combat efficiency and ensure redundancy if the new members join.

  Bash blinked once, processing the data S-C had just fed him. The numbers lined up, clean, efficient,

  impossible to argue with. But logic didn’t erase risk.

  He exhaled slowly. “All right,” he said, setting his datapad on the table. “Let’s put this on the table.”

  The quiet that followed wasn’t agreement, it was caution.

  Every eye shifted toward him.

  Bash took a slow breath, eyes flicking toward the datapad as S-C overlaid a faint holographic chart

  above the table. Lines of power scaling shimmered in pale blue, the ranks they all lived and fought by.

  “My first concern,” Bash began, voice even, “is gear difference.”

  Thane straightened slightly. “We’re both fully equipped with T2C,” he said quickly. “Fifteen pieces.

  Balanced loadout, forged and tuned.”

  Kira nodded. “We’re not coming in half-prepared.”

  Bash gave a slight nod. “Maybe not unprepared. But you’re underpowered.”

  He gestured toward the chart, the symbols pulsing in tiers.

  “T2C is baseline strength for its class,” he said. “Each step within a tier triples that power, every

  upgrade amplifies what you can do.”

  He tapped the air between tiers. “Jump a full tier, and the increase is fourfold. It’s not a steady climb,

  it’s a significant surge. Every move up changes the entire scale of combat.”

  The room went silent except for the faint hum of the display.

  “So fifteen pieces of T2C,” Bash continued, “carry the same output as roughly five pieces of what we

  wear in T2G, and less than two pieces at T2A. That’s not an insult, it’s math. The difference between

  surviving and staggering.”

  Kira swallowed hard, glancing down. Thane frowned but didn’t argue.

  “Now, gear can be upgraded. That gap will close fast if you keep up your harvest rates. But the second

  issue...”

  He leaned forward slightly, tone sharpening. “...is team balance.”

  He let that hang for a beat before continuing.

  “Gear’s just math. Teamwork isn’t. We’ve spent multiple runs refining this group, movement,

  resonance alignment, support chains. Everyone knows where to stand, when to push, when to fall back.

  The wrong rhythm, one missed cue, can blow the entire formation. You could have the best equipment

  in the sector and still cause a collapse if your timing’s off.”

  Nyra crossed her arms. “He’s right. One bad sync and all that power turns into cross-resonance chaos.”

  Taren nodded. “I can compensate for damage. I can’t fix dissonance mid-fight.”

  Rixor leaned forward, eyes narrowing. “So we’re supposed to gamble that they won’t break

  formation?”

  Bash didn’t immediately answer. He just stared at the faint afterglow of the hologram still hovering

  above the table, the cold math of risk and strength.

  Finally, he looked up. “Not gamble,” he said. “Calculated.”

  Rixor grunted in approval, arms crossed. “Finally, something we agree on.”

  Bash nodded slightly. “Second concern, timing. We’ve got six days left under military umbrella access.

  Every portal, every pull matters. If we spread ourselves too thin, we risk losing the fragments we’ve

  worked for.”

  Nyra leaned forward, elbow on the table. “Then why even entertain this?” she asked bluntly. “We’re

  ahead of schedule. We don’t need more bodies, we just need to finish clean.”

  Taren gave a faint sigh. “We also didn’t need to save them in that portal,” she said quietly, “but we did.

  And we’re still here, ahead of schedule.”

  “That’s not the same,” Rixor countered. “Saving someone is one thing. Re-structuring a team is

  another.”

  Bash looked between them, the argument wasn’t emotional, it was tactical.

  That was exactly what he wanted.

  He gestured toward the datapad, the projection lighting up again with S-C’s compiled calculations. “I

  ran the numbers. Even with two more, we can each still secure our planned T2A gear and fill the rest

  with T2G. If we maintain current collection rates, we’ll finish the cycle with surplus, enough to give

  Kira and Thane around ten T2G pieces each. No one loses out.”

  That got their attention.

  Rixor leaned back, skeptical but listening. Nyra frowned, but her expression softened. Taren just folded

  her arms, thoughtful.

  “So… you’re saying we can do this and still come out ahead,” Nyra said slowly. “And maybe even get

  them strong enough to contribute.”

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  “Exactly,” Bash said. “I’m not gambling with our progress. I’m giving us insurance.”

  Rixor scratched at his jaw. “And what about flow? Two new sets of timing, new energy rhythms, new

  tactics, that’s chaos waiting to happen.”

  Bash inclined his head slightly. “That’s the third point, team integration. Kira’s a healer, Thane’s frontline assault. My plan: Kira focuses healing exclusively on Thane until we sync. Taren handles teamwide sustain. They’ll stay behind the line for the first few engagements, cleanup duty, observation,

  learning. Once we’re sure they understand positioning and timing, we expand their roles.”

  He paused, letting that sink in. “If anyone has a better plan, I’m listening.”

  Silence.

  A long one.

  Then Nyra exhaled. “It’s risky,” she admitted. “But… not reckless.”

  Taren nodded. “Agreed. They’re both capable, just green at this level. We can shape that.”

  Rixor was the last to speak. “If it doesn’t slow us down, fine. But the first time they cost us a haul, I’m

  pulling them out myself.”

  Bash nodded once. “Fair.”

  He looked at each of them in turn, calm, composed, but firm. “Then it’s settled. We test them tomorrow.

  If it works, they stay until cycle end.”

  Only then did he turn toward Kira and Thane, who had stood silently through the discussion. “Gear up,

  both of you,” he said. “Tomorrow you run with us. But understand this...”

  His voice sharpened. “No mistakes. No hesitation. You follow the formation exactly as ordered.”

  Thane grinned faintly. “Understood.”

  Kira’s voice was softer. “We won’t let you down.”

  Bash nodded. “Good.”

  He turned back to Thane and Kira, who stood quietly at the table’s edge. “How busy were the forgers

  and imbuers when you picked your sets up?”

  Kira answered first. “Barely anyone there, just one smith and an imbuer working. Three bays open in

  both sections.”

  “Then we might not even need to wait for new plates,” Bash said, nodding. “If they can use what’s

  already in queue, we’ll just have them enchant and slot what we’ve got.”

  The others murmured agreement, the tension dissolving into quiet readiness.

  Bash stood, collecting his datapad. “Well, then I guess it’s settled.”

  He looked at Thane and Kira and gave a small, approving nod.

  “Let’s get to the forges.”

  Then, a faint smile. “And welcome to the team.”

  They left the cafeteria together, heading straight for the blacksmith wing. The forge hall burned bright

  under the hum of plasma torches and the rhythmic clang of resonance tools. Three of the six bays stood

  open, exactly as Kira had said. Sparks flared against polished steel as the team passed, the air alive with

  heat and echoing hammer strikes.

  Taren coordinated the submissions while Bash worked through the final material calculations with the

  lead forger. Each member’s datapad synced to the system, assigning fragment totals for crafting and

  imbuement.

  By the time they finished, every Spartor’s data registered as “processing.”

  T2A for Bash, Rixor, Taren, Nyra, Darik, and Liora.

  T2G for all secondary slots except one, reserved for the final T2A they would commission before the

  military cycle ended.

  When the forgers finished taking their scans, Bash turned to the team.

  “That’s it for tonight,” he said. “We’ll pick them up in the morning. Get some rest, tomorrow, we see

  what this new formation can do.”

  Morning came with the soft chime of the Ark’s internal chronometers.

  One by one, the team made their way to the blacksmith wing, the hall already glowing with molten

  light. Finished armor hung on racks, polished and humming.

  Each Spartor ran final checks, plate seals, resonance alignment, gear integration.

  By the time they entered the cafeteria, the entire team gleamed under the overheads, every set of gear

  attuned and resonating in perfect sync.

  Bash checked the registry on his pad. “We’re officially full,” he said. “Everyone’s got their T2A

  primary and full T2G complement. Only one open slot left each for the four us, Darik and Liora are full

  up.”

  Taren grinned. “Feels good to finally see it all come together.”

  “And the new recruits?” Nyra asked.

  Kira smiled, adjusting her freshly attuned staff across her back. “Full T2C set, same alignment as

  before, just stronger. Feels... right.”

  Thane flexed a gauntleted hand. “Ready to work.”

  Bash nodded, satisfied. He opened the portal registry, filtering through categories.

  Today was Taren’s rotation, Healing-type priority.

  S-C’s voice came online.

  Optimal match located. Portal 219, Healing classification, swarm-herd-pack composite. Unharvested

  for twenty-three cycles. Estimated high yield probability with moderate risk. Ideal for formation

  assessment.

  Bash smiled faintly. “Portal 219. Twenty-three cycles untouched. Should give us a good run.”

  “Swarm, herd, and pack?” Rixor asked, cracking his knuckles. “Good mix.”

  “Exactly,” Bash said, eyes scanning the terrain ahead. “We’ll keep it tight to start. Rixor takes left front,

  Liora center, Darik right. Taren, you’re mid-right; I’ll hold mid-left. Nyra, you’re on rear watch.”

  He glanced toward Thane and Kira. “Thane, stay just behind the front line center, ahead of Taren and

  me. Kira, you’ll run parallel with Taren and me for the first few pulls. Get a feel for the rhythm before

  stepping in fully. Once you’re comfortable, adjust forward when it won’t throw off the flow.

  Kira nodded eagerly. “Understood.”

  The table hummed with quiet focus as final adjustments synced between datapads.

  That was when the tone of the room shifted.

  A voice, sharp, bitter, cut across the cafeteria.

  “Of course you’d have another team ready,” Calen said, striding toward them.

  His armor still bore the scuffs from the grey portal, pride untarnished, ego untouched.

  The entire table went still.

  Bash didn’t even look up. “Not interested, Calen.”

  Calen ignored him, focusing on Kira and Thane instead. “You two just abandon your team the first

  chance you get? Figures. Bash always did know how to steal credit.”

  Nyra was on her feet before Bash could stop her. “The only thing anyone here stole,” she said coldly,

  “was your sorry hide out of a grey portal you never should’ve entered. You’d be dead without us, all

  three of you.”

  Calen’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not here to talk to you,” he said, voice shaking with anger. “I’m here to

  talk to my team.” His gaze lingered on Kira and Thane. “We can still make something out of this.

  White portals, low risk, build a real squad instead of being his clean-up crew.”

  The tension was palpable. Bash rose slowly, setting his cup aside.

  “Calen,” he said evenly. “If you could take yourself away from my team, I’d appreciate it. No one here

  is joining you.”

  For a moment, the air hung heavy with silence.

  Then Bash gave a small nod to his team. “Let’s move.”

  They stood as one and began heading for the exit.

  Calen’s voice followed them across the cafeteria.

  “You’ll regret this, Bash! You think you’re untouchable, but your time’s coming!”

  Bash didn’t turn.

  He just said, quietly but clearly, “I’ve heard that before.”

  The door hissed shut behind them, sealing away Calen’s echoing rage.

  The team kept walking, toward the portal wing, toward Portal 219.

  They didn’t look back once.