The skewer sizzled as it touched the grill, sending up a curl of fragrant smoke.

  Magi checked his watch, then flipped six skewers in succession, each one landing with precision. Not too early, not too late.

  "You're wasting your talents," Jax said, leaning against the counter beside him. "You should be running a restaurant, not killing monsters."

  "Too many meetings." Magi rotated a piece of beef that had shifted slightly out of alignment with the others. "Restaurant owners meet suppliers, health inspectors, staff."

  The BBQ place bustled around them, packed with Raiders fresh from jobs or heading out to them.

  Echo Squad had secured the corner table with the built-in grill, a small victory in the post-Rift rush.

  "We earned this," Layla declared, raising her glass. A strip of medical tape still covered her left cheekbone where a bone fragment had cut her during the battle. "To not dying horribly!"

  "To efficiency," Marc countered, his own glass meeting hers with a clink.

  "To getting paid," Eli added with a tired smile.

  The meat needed exactly fourteen more seconds before turning. Magi waited.

  "To our porter," Marc said, gesturing to Magi. "Who keeps saving our asses while pretending he's just carrying our stuff."

  Magi flipped the skewers, then raised his water glass slightly. "To basic attributes."

  They laughed, the inside joke taking on new meaning after everything they'd seen. Magi distributed the finished skewers onto their plates, each portion identical, the grill marks perfectly parallel.

  "You ever just throw something together without measuring?" Layla asked through a mouthful of food.

  "No."

  "Not even once?"

  Magi considered the question seriously. "I tried. It tasted wrong."

  Eli was about to comment when the restaurant door swung open, admitting a blast of cool evening air and five familiar figures.

  The Golden Lions entered, their matching jackets emblazoned with their emblem, a stylized lion's head surrounded by a sunburst.

  "Great," Jax muttered. "Just what we needed."

  The Lions spotted them immediately. Keller's face darkened momentarily before settling into a practiced smile. He veered toward their table, his team following in formation.

  "Echo Squad," Keller said with exaggerated warmth. "Good to see you recovered from yesterday's excitement."

  Marc nodded without enthusiasm. "Keller."

  "Just finishing our debrief with Central Command," Keller continued. "They were quite impressed with how we handled the situation."

  Layla choked on her drink. "Excuse me?"

  "The bone construct," Keller clarified. "Our coordinated assault was textbook. The Commander specifically mentioned my tactical leadership."

  Magi placed four more raw skewers on the grill without looking up. The meat needed to cook for exactly three minutes and forty seconds at this temperature.

  "Tactical leadership," Jax repeated flatly. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

  Keller's smile tightened. "Look, you guys did fine in a support role. Nobody's denying that. But when you've been in this business as long as we have, you understand how important proper attribution is for guild rankings."

  "Attribution," Eli echoed. "So you're taking credit for our kill?"

  "The Lions secured the primary engagement zone," one of Keller's teammates interjected. "Echo Squad was assigned flank protection, not direct assault."

  Marc set his glass down carefully. "Your 'primary engagement' had you surrounded and pinned down. Without us, you'd be decorating those skeletons right now."

  "A temporary tactical retreat," Keller dismissed. "We were regrouping for the counteroffensive when—"

  "When our porter walked through your 'temporary tactical retreat' and saved your ass," Layla finished.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Magi flipped the skewers. The conversation was irrelevant. Credit allocation didn't change reality. The meat needed to cook for another one hundred and seventeen seconds.

  Keller's face flushed. "I don't know what fantasy version you're telling yourselves, but the official report will reflect—"

  "The drone footage," came a crisp voice from behind them.

  They turned to find Administrator Whitehall standing in the restaurant entrance, tablet in hand. Her gray suit looked impossibly unwrinkled despite the late hour.

  "The drone footage shows exactly what happened," she continued, walking to their table. "Which is why I'm here."

  Keller straightened. "Administrator. I was just explaining to Echo how our coordinated effort—"

  "Save it." Whitehall's voice could have frozen the grill. "The Guild Association has completed its preliminary review of yesterday's Code Red. We have footage from twelve different angles."

  She tapped her tablet, turning it to face them. The screen showed the battlefield from above: the Golden Lions surrounded, skeletons closing in and a single figure walking calmly through the chaos.

  "This," Whitehall said, pointing at Magi's figure on the screen, "is not what 'primary engagement' looks like, Keller."

  The Lions shifted uncomfortably. Keller opened his mouth, then closed it.

  "Your team has been cited for Reckless Endangerment, Section 4.3 of the Raider Code. You deliberately ignored tactical assessment from a qualified team leader—" she nodded toward Marc, "—resulting in unnecessary risk to Guild personnel."

  "But we—"

  "The fine is 15,000 credits, deducted from your mission payment. You're also on probationary status for the next three operations."

  The Lions stood stunned as nearby tables fell silent, Raiders watching the public dressing-down with unconcealed interest.

  "As for Echo Squad," Whitehall continued, turning to Marc, "your team's performance has been noted. Effective immediately, you're upgraded to C-Rank status, with all accompanying privileges and contract access."

  Layla nearly knocked over her drink. "Seriously?"

  "The Association rewards competence," Whitehall said simply. "Especially when it saves other Raiders' lives."

  Magi removed the skewers from the grill. The meat had reached optimal caramelization. He placed two on each plate while the others processed the news.

  "This is ridiculous," Keller sputtered. "They're freelancers who got lucky. That porter doesn't even have proper combat certification!"

  Whitehall consulted her tablet. "Magius Necros. Registered porter, C-Class certification as of..." she checked the time, "twenty-seven minutes ago."

  Magi looked up from the grill. "I didn't apply for combat certification."

  "No, you didn't," Whitehall agreed. "But the Certification Committee reviewed your performance metrics and made an administrative decision. Apparently, deflecting necrotic energy back at a bone construct qualifies as 'demonstrated proficiency.'"

  She handed Magi a small chip. "Your updated credentials. The rest of your team's were transmitted electronically."

  Keller looked like he might explode. "This is a violation of protocol. Combat certification requires formal testing and—"

  "Take it up with the Committee," Whitehall cut him off. "After you've paid your fine."

  She nodded curtly to Echo Squad. "Congratulations on your promotion. Your team's first C-Rank contract options will be available in the system tomorrow morning."

  With that, she turned and left, leaving a wake of whispers as other Raiders digested what they'd witnessed.

  Keller glared at them, particularly at Magi. "This isn't over."

  "It is for tonight," Marc replied evenly. "Your table's waiting."

  The Lions retreated to the far side of the restaurant, their earlier swagger deflated. Echo Squad sat in stunned silence for a moment before Layla broke into a grin.

  "C-Rank! Do you know what this means? Better contracts, better pay, better gear allowances!"

  "Better death benefits," Jax added with a smirk.

  "Better responsibilities," Marc said thoughtfully. "C-Rank teams qualify for zone security rotation."

  Eli nodded. "And access to the advanced research library. I've been wanting to study the pre-Awakening thaumaturgical theories."

  They all turned to Magi, who was frowning slightly.

  "What's wrong?" Marc asked. "Not happy about the promotion?"

  "Higher tax bracket," Magi said. "And combat certification means quarterly practical assessments."

  Layla laughed. "Only you would get promoted and immediately calculate the downside."

  "Practical application of basic math," Magi replied, arranging the last of the vegetables on the grill in a perfect grid.

  They celebrated for another hour, planning future contracts and speculating about what C-Rank would mean for their team.

  Magi participated minimally, calculating his adjusted take-home pay and the additional time commitments the promotion would require.

  When the bill came, he contributed his precise share down to the cent, including a 17% tip. The optimal balance between fair compensation and financial responsibility.

  "You want us to walk you home?" Marc offered as they left the restaurant. "It's on our way."

  "No," Magi said. "I need to check apartment listings."

  "Still planning to move?" Eli asked. "With the promotion, you could afford something much nicer than your current place."

  Magi nodded. "Fifteen minute walking radius from the Guild Hall. No more than twenty-five minutes to grocery stores. Second floor or higher for security, but below the fifth floor in case of evacuation."

  "You've thought this through," Jax observed.

  "Efficiency matters."

  They parted ways at the intersection, his teammates heading toward their shared building while Magi continued alone toward his apartment complex.

  The night air was cool but not cold. Optimal walking temperature. He calculated he would reach his door in exactly twelve minutes at his current pace.

  The Necromancer's Ring felt cool against his finger, and the Void Seed pulsed gently in his pocket with each step.

  Neither item seemed to be causing any negative effects, despite Eli's warnings.

  He reached his building and climbed the stairs to the third floor, where his single-bedroom apartment waited.

  The hallway was quiet. His neighbors were either asleep or still out. He preferred it that way.

  Magi inserted his key into the lock, turned it, and pushed the door open.

  He did not turn on the lights immediately, a habit developed after the Awakening, when darkness sometimes concealed things that shouldn't be there.

  But tonight, something was different. The darkness felt occupied. Intentional.

  "You took something that belongs to the Syndicate, Mr. Necros."

  The voice came from his chair, the only comfortable piece of furniture in his sparsely decorated living room. A shadow darker than the surrounding darkness shifted slightly.

  Magi stood in the doorway, considering his options. Run? Attack? Call for help?

  Instead, he simply closed the door behind him and asked, "Which something?"