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Chapter 8: Deployment

  The common dining hall was a hum of low conversations and clattering trays until Cassey burst through the doors, her face pale.

  She spotted Aoi and sprinted over, out of breath.

  "Aoi! I’ve been looking everywhere for you," Cassey hissed, grabbing her arm. "It’s an emergency."

  "What? What happened?" Aoi asked, her instincts immediately shifting into combat mode.

  "No time. Follow me!"

  The two girls sprinted through the facility to the Wrappers planning quarters.

  When they burst inside, the atmosphere was heavy.

  Lilith stood at the head of the tactical table, her usual mockery replaced by a cold, sharp professionalism.

  Sera, Aether, and Harry were already geared up, their expressions grim.

  Lilith turned her gaze toward the newcomers.

  "Aoi, Cassey—listen up. This is your first real mission as a combined unit. Cassey, you know the drill. Aoi, try to keep your head on straight."

  Lilith tapped the holographic map.

  "Half of our group, led by Vice-Leader Steve, was deployed to intercept a special enemy strike team. Everything was going according to plan until ten minutes ago. Things have spiralled out of control. They’ve requested immediate backup."

  Aoi felt a chill.

  Steve was a professional executioner—for someone like him to call for help, the situation had to be catastrophic.

  "It’s rare for Steve to call for air or ground support," Lilith continued, her tail flicking with agitation.

  "Especially considering she was with him."

  The cloaked inhuman, Aoi realized.

  The one whose presence was so heavy it felt like a void in the room.

  "Because the situation is desperate, we’ve been authorized to pull from other units," Lilith said.

  "Haether from the Feathers, and Rafael from the Blazers—front and center."

  Haether stepped forward, her fiery wings tucked tight but glowing with a restless orange light.

  Beside her stood a brunette-haired boy with a sharp jawline and a look of pure, unadulterated arrogance.

  "They will provide our auxiliary support," Lilith said.

  "Along with one final addition."

  The door hissed open, and Aoi’s heart skipped a beat.

  Claire walked in.

  She looked different than she had in the training room.

  The exhaustion was gone, replaced by a cold, predatory focus.

  She walked straight past Lilith and stopped in front of Aoi.

  "I heard you shielded me last time," Claire said, her voice a low, raspy whisper.

  "Consider this payback."

  She paused, then added with a dismissive tilt of her head,

  "Not that I wanted to owe you anything."

  Payback? Aoi thought, watching Claire closely.

  No... she just wanted an excuse to get out of that training room and back into the field.

  But Aoi stayed silent, offering only a sharp nod.

  "That covers the personnel," Lilith barked.

  "Aether and Haether will handle air support and extraction. Rafael, I was told your abilities are essential for tracking our people through the interference. Is that correct?"

  Rafael smirks, a lazy, mocking expression that mirrored Jack’s own arrogance.

  "It’s the least I can do for you poor Wrappers," he drawled, his tone making it clear that the Blazers looked down on their unit.

  "Be grateful I’m even here. The paperwork alone was a nightmare. Lol."

  The "lol" hung in the air like a taunt.

  It was obvious he was only here because of third-party pressure—likely Rose herself.

  "The rest of us," Lilith continued, ignoring the insult,

  "will secure the perimeter, evacuate the wounded, and neutralize the threat. Is that clear?"

  "YES!" the room shouted in unison.

  Aoi’s voice was among them, loud and firm.

  Only Rafael remained silent, offering nothing but a dismissive, bored nod.

  The intercom crackled.

  It was Aether.

  "The jet is hot and the hangar is clear. Everyone hop in—we’re moving out!"

  The jet tore through the atmosphere, the cabin vibrating with the hum of high-output engines.

  Inside, the silence was heavy, punctuated only by the metallic clink of weapons being checked.

  Suddenly, the AI’s synthesized voice cut through the tension:

  [WARNING: ENTERING ENEMY TERRITORY. COMBAT PROTOCOLS ENGAGED.]

  The sky erupted.

  Multiple projectiles streaked toward the jet, trailing plumes of black smoke.

  Aether didn't panic; his hands moved with professional fluidness, banking the craft into a series of gut-wrenching rolls that sent the missiles screaming past into the clouds.

  He didn't just dodge—he fired back, the jet’s nose cannons spitting plasma that turned the distant attackers into falling debris.

  "Covering the drop!" Haether shouted.

  She didn't wait for a parachute.

  She lunged out of the side hatch, her phoenix wings unfurling in a spectacular explosion of fire.

  She became a comet of orange flame, slicing through the air with wing-slashes that incinerated anything in the jet’s path.

  "Thirty seconds!" Aether’s voice crackled over the comms.

  "Get ready to hit the dirt!"

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  The jet dived, skimming the treetops as the rear ramp hissed open.

  The Wrappers moved with terrifying efficiency.

  Aoi, momentarily startled by the sheer speed of the deployment, felt a sharp tug on her arm.

  Claire gripped her, her eyes wild with a hunter's light, and pulled her into the abyss.

  They hit the ground in a synchronized drop, surrounded by the guttural roars of a demon battalion.

  High above, the jet rocketed back into the stratosphere to engage a massive, leathery dragon, while Haether circled it like a fiery hornet.

  "Clear the landing zone! Move!" Lilith commanded.

  The unit moved as a single organism, securing the immediate area before taking cover behind a massive, jagged rock formation.

  Rafael, the Blazer, stepped forward.

  He closed his eyes, his brow furrowed in concentration for a heartbeat.

  Then, he snapped them open and pointed toward a dense cluster of black spires in the distance.

  "They’re right in the middle," he said, his voice dropping its mocking lilt.

  "Surrounded on all sides."

  The team looked.

  Beyond the sea of demons, they could see the faint flashes of Steve’s muzzle flares and the shimmer of a cloaked barrier.

  "We need a plan," Lilith said, her eyes scanning the battlefield.

  High above, Aether and Haether were successfully taunting the aerial monsters, drawing the bulk of the flying threats away from the ground team.

  The sky was a mess of fire and scales.

  Lilith turned to Rafael, her expression hard as flint.

  "Rafael, right now, you’re under my command. Is that understood?"

  Rafael blinked, momentarily shocked by the sudden authority in the Lamia's voice.

  A mocking smirk returned to his face, but it didn't reach his eyes.

  "Oh, yes, Commander. What’s the play?"

  Lilith pointed a clawed finger toward the south, where a massive contingent of demons was bottlenecking.

  "I want you to deal with them. Clear that flank."

  "Oh? All by myself?" Rafael said, his voice dripping with mock terror.

  "I’m scared, Lilith. Really."

  Then, his voice shifted.

  The sarcasm died, replaced by a low, guttural grit.

  "You owe me for this one."

  Without another word, he launched himself.

  It wasn't a jump; it was a human artillery strike.

  He cleared over a kilometre in a single leap, crashing into the southern flank with the force of a bomb.

  Flames erupted where he landed as he began tearing through the monsters with a terrifying, effortless violence.

  Aoi watched him, stunned.

  Is everyone in this facility a god?

  "Aoi! Cassey! Focus!" Lilith’s voice snapped her back to reality.

  "The two of you and I are taking the West. We’re the poison specialists—we’ll create a toxic corridor to choke their movement."

  She turned to the rest.

  "Harry, Sera, Claire—you take the North. Force the survivors toward the East. We’re going to squeeze them."

  Lilith leaned in, her gaze catching everyone's eyes.

  "Listen to me: the objective isn't to win this war. It’s to get our people and get home. Do not get distracted by the blood. East is our exit before their reinforcements overwhelm us."

  Aoi felt the parasite beneath her skin begin to pulse.

  The scent of blood on the wind was intoxicating, a primal drumbeat that made her tentacles twitch with a life of their own.

  She wasn't a girl in a uniform anymore.

  She was a weapon.

  "Positions!" Lilith hissed.

  The hunt was on.

  The Wrappers moved like a scythe through a field of wheat.

  Lilith’s toxic corridor worked perfectly, funnelling the demon infantry into a bottleneck where the combined strength of the unit could shred them.

  Sera was the first to break through.

  With her plasma blade humming, she carved a path to the center of the spire ruins.

  She found Steve kneeling in the dirt, his breathing ragged and his uniform soaked in blood.

  He was wounded, but his grip on his rifle hadn't wavered.

  "I've got you," Sera said, her voice steady as she helped him to his feet.

  Lilith followed, reaching the cloaked figure who stood like a silent sentinel over the rest of the survivors.

  "We have them! Get to the extraction point! Aether, we’re ready for pick-up!"

  A burst of static hissed through the comms.

  "Negative, Lilith," Aether’s voice sounded strained over the roar of wind.

  "We've been intercepted by a heavy flight of Wyvern-Lords. I'm tied up in a dogfight. ETA is an hour, maybe more."

  "WHAT!?" Lilith screamed.

  "Aether, respond!"

  The connection snapped.

  Static filled her ear.

  Lilith looked at her team—they were surrounded, exhausted, and the extraction was gone.

  "Barrier! Now!" Lilith commanded.

  "Form a defensive perimeter! We hold this ground for sixty minutes or we die here!"

  The group snapped into position, each holding a cardinal direction.

  Rafael was still nearly a kilometre away, a distant blur of fire and blood, seemingly oblivious to the crisis as he reveled in the slaughter.

  Lilith was knelt beside the wounded, her hands glowing with a faint healing light, when a massive BOOM rocked the ruins.

  A shadow flew through the air, crashing into the stone pillars.

  It was Harry.

  He was unconscious before he hit the ground, his poison-masks shattered.

  Steve, teeth gritted in pain, looked toward the settling dust.

  "They're here," he rasped.

  "The ones who took us down."

  Cassey’s face went pale.

  "No way... are we actually done for?"

  Five figures emerged from the gloom.

  They didn't roar like the common demons; they walked with a silent, terrifying grace.

  The air around them grew heavy, the atmospheric pressure rising until Aoi felt like she was underwater.

  These weren't just soldiers—these were the Demon King’s chosen Knights.

  "Well, well," a female demon purred, her eyes glowing with a predatory violet light.

  "The livestock brought friends. How adorable."

  Aoi’s tentacles curled tight against her back.

  Her instincts were screaming at her to run, but it was a different fear than she felt with Mitsuo.

  Mitsuo was a mountain; these enemies were a pack of wolves—coordinated, efficient, and lethal.

  Aoi realized with a sinking heart: the Wrappers were outclassed.

  Individually, these knights felt like they possessed a lifetime of combat experience that dwarfed her own.

  Suddenly, a streak of white-hot energy tore through the sky, aimed directly at the lead Knight.

  It was a massive long-range strike from Rafael, who had finally noticed the shift in the battle.

  The explosion levelled a nearby ruin, but as the smoke cleared, the Knight was standing unharmed behind a shimmering obsidian barrier.

  "How rude," the Knight muttered, glancing toward Rafael’s distant position.

  Lilith’s mind raced.

  She did the math and hated the answer.

  They couldn't win—they could only stall.

  "Captain," Sera said, stepping forward.

  "Steve and I will take the third one."

  Steve swallowed a handful of painkillers, his eyes bloodshot as he levelled his gun.

  They were an even match for the third Knight, but only if they fought together.

  Then, the cloaked figure stood up.

  "Velvet, don't," Lilith urged.

  "You've exhausted your reserves keeping the barrier up. If you fight now..."

  The girl pulled back her hood.

  Her pale skin and perky, pointed ears stood out against her dark hair.

  Velvet—a vampire who had turned her back on her own kind.

  "Ah, the betrayer," the fourth Knight mocked.

  "Still playing soldier for the humans, Velvet?"

  "You never cared if I existed," Velvet hissed, her eyes turning blood-red.

  "Don't pretend to care now."

  Lilith assigned Aoi and Cassey to the most desperate task: hold the line against the encroaching infantry and protect the wounded.

  "I’ll handle the fifth," Lilith said, stepping forward.

  She knew she was weaker than the Knight before her—perhaps only three-quarters as strong.

  She just had to survive.

  Finally, Claire stepped forward to face the first Knight—the strongest of the pack.

  She didn't speak.

  She just bared her teeth, her Ghoul hunger flaring.

  Claire was the only one among them who truly matched the raw power of these Knights.

  The Knight smirked at her.

  "An hour, little girl? You won't last ten minutes."

  To be continued....

  ? MYukH. All rights reserved.

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