Silence reigned in the vehicle as we made our way closer to our destination. I could make guesses as to what a dungeon breach would mean. If a dungeon were like a container, then a breach would mean that something spilled in from outside, or something inside spilled out. Simple. Horrifying. The idea of monsters spilling out into a world completely unprepared to combat them was gut-wrenching. The thought made my blood run cold. I had an intimate understanding of how powerful monsters were, and how hopelessly outclassed any normal human would be against all but the absolute weakest of monsters. Sure, technology and weaponry would level the field somewhat.
At least at first.
What would humanity do when the monsters had dozens of points in endurance and could shrug off high caliber bullets like they were nothing? Humanity would die. That’s what it would do. A large enough breach would be a disaster on an unimaginable scale. An extinction event like the asteroid that wiped out the dinosaurs. That was a sobering thought.
The crunch of gravel sounded from outside the vehicle as we rounded a curve in the road. Our destination came into sight. The facility loomed before us, a sprawling complex that seemed to materialize out of the dense forest like some great concrete beast. High fences of chain link stretched as far as the eye could see, topped with coils of razor wire that glinted menacingly in the afternoon sun. A gate reminiscent of a toll booth blocked entry to the facility. Of course, it was only the familiar white and red arm that made it seem like a toll booth. The men stationed at what looked like mounted 20mm chain guns mounted on platforms to either side of the entrance ruined that image quite thoroughly.
As we drew closer, I could make out figures moving with purpose across the grounds beyond the fence. Men and women in crisp military fatigues bustled about, their movements precise and coordinated like a well-oiled machine. Each one bore an identical patch on their right shoulder or breast - a white banner on a field of black, emblazoned with a silver sword and shield. The White Banner's insignia, I realized with a start. The scale of the place was staggering. We passed through the gate without issue after the gate checked Uncle Wolf's ID. I was handed a clip-on tag emblazoned with the word Guest in large red letters. I clipped it to the neck of my shirt without a thought.
To our left, two enormous barracks buildings stood side by side, their windows dark and uniform. A steady stream of personnel flowed in and out of their doors, some looking fresh and alert while others trudged with the weariness of a long shift.
Further on, I spotted a sprawling structure that could only be the mess hall, judging by the tantalizing aroma wafting from it. The mess hall made my stomach growl, reminding me I hadn't eaten since breakfast. Beyond it, a squat administrative building rose up, its windows reflecting the afternoon sun. Men and women in pressed uniforms hurried in and out, carrying stacks of papers and engaged in hushed conversations. To our right, an expansive motor pool stretched out, filled with rows upon rows of vehicles, both military and civilian designs were present. Humvees, armoured personnel carriers, and even a few tanks sat in neat lines, their metal shells gleaming. Alongside them were limos, sedans and even a few sports cars and familiar-looking SUVs. Mechanics in oil-stained coveralls darted between the vehicles, tools in hand, as they performed maintenance and checks.
As we drove deeper into the compound, I spotted a fortified structure set apart from the rest - the armoury. Its thick concrete walls and heavy steel doors spoke of the deadly arsenal contained within. Armed guards stood at attention outside, their eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. I never suspected all those base tours visiting Uncle Wolf would be helpful when I was a kid. It was helpful now, allowing me a bit more insight into the layout of the facility, and a better shot at identifying each building and its purpose.
The sheer scale of the facility was overwhelming. Everywhere I looked, there was activity - people jogging in formation, carrying equipment, or huddled in small groups discussing what I could only assume were classified matters. The air thrummed with a sense of urgency and purpose. These, by all appearances, were the fighting men and women of The White Banner. It was an impressive sight. We pulled up in front of a building that wasn't quite like the rest, more glass and steel than concrete. It almost looked like a short, squat skyscraper glinting in the sun.
Admin building. Outsiders and higher like the shiny stuff.
I snerked as the car came to a halt, drawing a glance from my Uncle, who just shook his head, hiding a smirk of his own.
"Oliver, Leo, take the car back to the motor pool, then you're done for the day." Uncle Wolf instructed as we exited the vehicle.
"Yes, boss." The reply came from the front seats. The moment we were clear of the vehicle, it rolled off towards the motor pool.
Uncle Wolf gestured for me to follow him as he strode towards the admin building's entrance. I had to quicken my pace to keep up with his long strides. As we approached, the glass doors slid open silently, revealing a lobby that was a stark contrast to the utilitarian structures outside. Polished marble floors reflected the soft lighting from above, and sleek furniture dotted the space. A receptionist sat behind a curved desk, her fingers flying across a keyboard as she glanced up at our approach. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of Uncle Wolf, and she quickly stood.
"Commander Wolfe," She greeted, her voice crisp and professional. "They're expecting you in Conference Room A."
Uncle Wolf nodded curtly. "Thank you, Diane. This is my nephew. He'll be accompanying me."
Diane's gaze flicked to me, and I saw a flicker of curiosity in her eyes before she schooled her expression. "Of course, sir. Do you need an escort?"
"No, we'll manage." Uncle Wolf replied, already moving towards a bank of elevators.
As we stepped inside, I couldn't help but ask, "Commander?" Uncle Wolf's lips twitched in a slight smile.
"It's just a title, kid. Don't let it go to your head."The elevator ascended smoothly, and I tried to process everything I'd seen. My mind was racing with questions, but I knew now wasn't the time to voice them. Uncle Wolf's posture had subtly shifted - he stood straighter, his jaw set in a hard line. Whatever awaited us in Conference Room A, it was serious business. The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing a long hallway lined with doors. Uncle Wolf strode out, his footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. I followed close behind, acutely aware of the security cameras tracking our movement. We stopped in front of a door marked "Conference Room A." Uncle Wolf opened the door without pause and strode inside. I followed Uncle Wolf into the conference room, my eyes immediately drawn to the large oval table dominating the center. The most interesting thing was that there were only two people present in the room. My eyes whipped down to the man's lapel, noting first a pin that looked very similar to the patches I'd seen being worn outside, and an ID card like the guest tag I wore.
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David Giffle. No title, no position listed. The other man’s tag was much the same. Ed Galt. No title, no position listed.
"Commander Wolfe, you're late," The man at the head of the table, David, smirked. It was clear there was no reproach or hostility. His aura was flat and relaxed, while the younger man’s trembled slightly, nervousness perhaps?
"Apologies, David," Uncle Wolf replied, his tone casual yet respectful. "My nephew was more cautious than I gave him credit for; it took a few minutes to persuade him." I could tell by his tone that he was rather happy about that, despite it making him apparently late to this meeting. As Uncle Wolf spoke, I took the opportunity to study David Giffle more closely. He was an average-sized man, perhaps in his mid-forties, with a well-muscled build barely concealed beneath a perfectly tailored navy blue suit. His short blond hair was neatly trimmed, complemented by a well-maintained beard that gave him an air of distinguished authority. Despite his relaxed posture, there was an undeniable aura of quiet confidence about him.
David's piercing blue eyes flickered to me, a hint of curiosity dancing in their depths. "And who might this be?" he asked, his voice smooth and measured. Uncle Wolf placed a hand on my shoulder, a gesture that felt both protective and reassuring.
"This is my nephew, the one I mentioned in my report." David's eyebrows rose slightly, and he leaned forward, interlacing his fingers on the polished table surface.
"Ah, yes. The unexpected variable in our equation. I am David Giffle, a regional Director for the White Banner. I presume your uncle has already told you a little about us?" His gaze swept over me, assessing, calculating.
I felt a brush of something else, something other. I slapped it aside, narrowing my gaze on David's assistant as I tracked the sensation back to its source. It felt suspiciously like he'd tried to use something like my own [Analyze] on me. I had to refrain from clamping down on the man with my aura. I wasn't sure what it would do to him. I'd rather not find out that it would kill him or send him into a seizure in the middle of a conference room that was inside a military grade facility.
"Don't try that again," I growled from where I stood beside Uncle Wolf, glaring at the younger man across the table from us.
The room fell silent for a moment, tension crackling in the air. David's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before it was quickly masked. His assistant, Ed, visibly flinched, his face paling as he glanced nervously between me and David. Uncle Wolf's hand tightened on my shoulder, a subtle warning.
"Easy, kid," he murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.
David leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression replacing his initial surprise. "Well, well," he said, his voice carrying a note of intrigue. "It seems your nephew is more... aware than we anticipated, Carl." He turned his attention fully to me, his piercing blue eyes studying me with renewed interest. "My apologies for the intrusion. We're used to certain... precautions when dealing with people in your position."
I felt my jaw clench, still bristling from the attempted probe. "Should I respond in kind then? Peel out the secrets of everyone in this room?" I said softly. "I've already had a look at my Uncle's. And while you are certainly stronger than he is, Mr. Giffle. I don't think you're strong enough to stop me." I felt Uncle Wolf stiffen beside me. He hadn't known I'd gotten a look at his status sheet. It didn't matter; I wasn't willing to allow them to push me into a corner. It was better to demonstrate some power and willingness to push here than pretend to be cowed. It might be a wary respect it would get me, but it was still respect. David Giffle was by far the strongest person I'd come across so far. I was certain he was a higher level than both Uncle Wolf and me, and not by a small amount. At the same time, he didn't feel like an insurmountable threat either. While I was human, he had the edge in stats, that much I was certain of without using [Analyze]. If I used my Bloodline and became a spider, though? I would match or exceed him in some areas. Enough areas to be a problem.
David's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something—respect, perhaps?—flashing across his face. "Impressive," he said, his voice low and measured. "It seems we've underestimated you. A mistake we won't make again." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "But let's not resort to threats, shall we? We've gotten off on the wrong foot, and I'd like to move past this."
Uncle Wolf's grip on my shoulder relaxed slightly, but I could feel the tension radiating from him. "David," he said, his tone a warning. "My nephew is not an asset to be analyzed or manipulated.” David nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Fair enough, Carl. My apologies... to both of you." He gestured to the empty chairs across from him. "Please, sit. We have much to discuss." As we took our seats, I couldn't help but notice Ed, still pale and visibly shaken, scribbling furiously in a notebook. David cleared his throat, drawing my attention back to him. "From my own impression of you and what your Uncle has told me leads me to believe you would prefer more straightforwardness and less formality. Is this correct?" I nodded, studying the man and the other, who I assumed was an aide of some sort, reassessing my opinion of him. He was sharp and adaptable, not stuck in his ways, and seemed willing to meet me halfway at least for the moment. David seemed to unlock from the rigid posture he'd been holding, and his aura followed suit, becoming less rigid.
"Excellent," David said, his posture relaxing further. "Then let's cut to the chase. You've stumbled into a world most people don't even know exists, and you've done so with remarkable aptitude. To put it bluntly, we can make educated guesses as to what you survived, and we are impressed." He paused, his eyes scanning my face for a reaction. I kept my expression neutral, waiting for him to continue.
"What you experienced in that place was just the tip of the iceberg. There are more out there, appearing with increasing frequency. And when they breach..." He trailed off, letting the implications hang in the air.
"Chaos," I finished for him. "Death on a massive scale."
David nodded grimly. "Precisely. That's where we come in. The White Banner exists to prevent that chaos, to keep the world blissfully ignorant of the dangers lurking just beyond their perception."
I leaned forward, my curiosity piqued. "And how exactly do you manage that?"
"Through a combination of advanced technology, magical prowess, and good old-fashioned secrecy," David replied. "We work in the shadows, neutralizing threats before they can spill out into the public eye." David spread his hands out as if laying his cards on the table. "The White Banner employs people like you and your Uncle, what we call Rankers, to combat these dungeons and the other magical factions when necessary. Though we avoid the latter whenever possible. It's not our purview, and it is a waste of resources better spent combating the dungeons."
I nodded slowly, processing the information. It made sense - a secret organization combating otherworldly threats. It sounded like something out of a movie, but I'd seen enough in the past few days to know it was all too real. There were several points of concern in what had been said so far, however. What other magical factions were there? Why would they and the White Banner be fighting? There was history there that I wasn't aware of. I didn't like the idea of being ordered into a conflict with another faction simply because they had something the white Banner wanted, or over a grudge.
"So where do I fit into all this?" I asked, my eyes darting between David and Uncle Wolf.
David leaned back in his chair, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "That, young man, is entirely up to you. Your uncle has vouched for your abilities, and your little display earlier certainly caught my attention. We could use someone with your... unique abilities."
"With all due respect, Carl," David interrupted smoothly, holding up a hand to stop Uncle Wolf before he spoke. "I think your nephew has proven he's more than capable of handling himself." He turned his piercing gaze back to me. "We're offering you a choice. You can walk away from all this, return to your normal life with the knowledge that we're out here, keeping the world safe. Or..."
"Or?" I prompted, leaning forward despite myself.
"Or you can join us. Become one of our Rankers." I sat back in my chair, considering David's offer. The weight of the decision pressed down on me. On one hand, I could return to my normal life - college, friends, a future that seemed so mundane now. On the other hand, I could step into a world of magic and monsters, and I could keep growing. Keep advancing. And do some good as a bonus. The first didn't feel like it was even an option anymore, return to a soul-numbing job? Not for me. Not anymore.
"What exactly would being one of your Rankers entail?" I asked, my eyes narrowing slightly. "And what kind of commitment are we talking about here?" David nodded, seeming to appreciate my caution.
"A Ranker's primary duty is to neutralize dungeons before they can breach into our world. This involves entering these pocket dimensions, fighting the monsters within, and either defeating the 'boss' entity or destroying the dimensional anchor holding the dungeon in place." He paused, letting that sink in before continuing. "As for commitment, we typically start with a probationary period. You'd undergo training, learn more about the System and how to navigate dungeons effectively. After that, you'd be assigned to a team and start taking on real missions." I remained silent while I mulled over all that had been said. My head was spinning from all of it, and I needed a moment to parse it all.
Then the negotiations would begin.

