Breachers

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Red Means Go

Day 108

The scent of grilled meat and fried onions clung to Marcus's clothes as he slumped in the passenger seat, rubbing at a ketchup stain on his once-clean shirt. He let out a slow, annoyed sigh, flicking at the red splotch as if that would somehow make it disappear.

Beside him, Felix whistled along to the salsa music blaring from the truck's old speakers, one hand steady on the wheel, the other still wrapped in his cast. The food truck rumbled down the street toward their next stop, weaving through morning traffic like it had done a hundred times before.

Every now and then, Felix awkwardly reached for the shifter with his good hand, elbow bracing the steering wheel. Marcus occasionally reached over to switch gears for him, his focus still more on the ruined shirt than the road. It had become routine by now.

Felix grinned, giving him a quick nod of appreciation before focusing back on the road. "You're getting good at this. Think I'll just keep the cast on forever."

Marcus side-eyed him. "Does that mean you'll also start paying me more?"

Felix snorted. "Ah, there it is. The true Marcus. Knew the nice act wouldn't last."

Marcus just rolled his eyes, settling deeper into his seat, feeling the lull between stops. It was too early for this much salsa music. Too early for the lingering stench of food on his skin. Too early for another long-ass shift.

And yet, here he was.

"So, how many stops left today?" Marcus asked.

Felix let go of the wheel, grabbing his phone. Marcus sighed, reaching over to grab the wheel before they drifted into another lane.

"Two dark blue Spheres, one light blue and a possible second one if we're lucky. Decent enough haul, I think." Felix tapped something on his phone before finally taking the wheel back.

"You gonna tell me what the gift's about?"

"No," Felix said, still typing. Then he tucked the phone away and shot his friend a grin. "So, dinner at your sister's, huh?"

"Yeah," Marcus muttered, rubbing his knee. "I think it's a trap."

"You think?" Felix glanced at him, shaking his head. "She caught you red-handed rushing into a Sphere… again." His grin widened. "You're lucky she didn't shoot you on the spot. I would've, if I was her."

Marcus just nodded, closing his eyes and sinking lower into his seat. "Maybe she's going for the poison route, hence the dinner?"

"Could work," Felix mused. "Would be more subtle, yet it's hard to get a decent alibi when it's at her place."

They bounced a few more ideas back and forth—how Joline might try to drug him instead, or stage a freak accident. Eventually, their conversation drifted to other topics. Felix grumbled about his dating life—or lack thereof—asking why he kept attracting women who had a thing for men wearing suits, and Marcus casually deflected questions about his connection to Old Man Pete.

Felix raised an eyebrow but didn't push. Instead, he changed course. "So, how's your brother? As talkative as ever?"

"Martin?"

"Yes, Martin, you idiot. You've got another brother hidden somewhere?" Felix said, dry amusement lacing his tone.

Marcus shrugged. "The whole brotherly bond between Martin and me is… well… a work in progress. And that's being optimistic. At this point, I feel like you're more of a brother to him than I am."

"Makes sense," Felix said. "Everyone likes me."

"Except your dates," Marcus countered, landing a clean jab.

Felix scoffed. "First off, fuck you. Second, have you tried keeping it casual with Martin? You know, a text here or—"

Marcus didn't bother responding. He just unlocked his phone, turned the screen toward Felix, and let the messages do the talking. A dozen of his texts to Martin, all read as unread. Above that, the occasional response from Martin—blunt, dismissive. 'Yes'. 'No'. 'We'll see'.

Felix exhaled through his nose. "Ah."

Marcus locked his phone and tucked it away.

"Well, it's still new territory, right? He'll change his mind eventually." Felix didn't sound entirely convinced, but before Marcus could respond, the truck slowed as they pulled into a supermarket parking lot. Felix threw the gear into neutral, grabbed a pen and then grinned. "Now, be a good lad and stay put. No running into a Sphere, all right?"

Marcus frowned. "What are you—"

Felix shoved the door open and slammed it shut before Marcus could finish. Hard, making the metal rattle. The man then strolled toward the store without another word, glancing over his shoulder just once. His grin was wide, toothy, and absolutely up to no good.

Marcus narrowed his eyes. "What's that idiot planning now?" he muttered before yawning, stretching out his legs as much as the cramped truck allowed. A quick glance at the store entrance showed no sign of Felix yet. 'Typical. Probably getting sidetracked by the snack aisle.'

His phone buzzed.

Marcus pulled it from his pocket, expecting another reminder from Joline about dinner. Instead, it was an email. From himself. Or rather, from his steel counterparts.

┏ ┓

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"Got another light-blue and a bunch of Glass. Minimal damage.

Specter's scouting a new spot for Glass farming."

- Bastion

┗ ┛

Marcus smiled, his mood lifting instantly. 'That makes five Orbs now.' He let the weight of that settle in. Five meant that Specter and Bastion could stay active nonstop while another robot could join them, though it'd be semi-reliant on external mana. 'Probably best if I buy a few more batteries next.'

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Working with Felix paid enough to live on, but not nearly enough to cover the constant demand for steel, pistons, motors, mana-batteries, and everything else that kept his operation running.

"And I've got Kim on the payroll now," he muttered. That alone made his next decision easier. He'd accept the Benedicts' latest invite. A Sphere run with them meant good money, maybe even enough to put some aside for once.

Still, he needed more options. He scrolled through his phone, opening a Breacher app that tracked available Spheres. Most required a buy-in to farm—fees set by whichever group or company claimed the rights. But there were exceptions. A few were free to take on, usually because they were too close to cities or in an inconvenient location.

Marcus skimmed the list, tapping on one.

"I could take a crack at one of these. Get paid for clearing it," he murmured. "But I'd need to hand over most of the Glass I'd find and the Orb for sure, or else I'd get in trouble." He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Still, anyone in their right mind would be suspicious of a mere Alpha taking on a Sphere all by himself. Perhaps—"

The truck door swung open, breaking his thoughts as Felix hopped in, smirking, a plastic shopping bag dangling from his fingers.

"Missed me?"

"Like the plague," Marcus said with a smile, dropping his phone on the seat as the truck rumbled back to life.

His eyes flicked to the bag. Felix rarely bought things on a whim—at least, not without a specific plan in mind. Marcus reached for it, only for Felix to casually tap his fingers away.

"Just wait. It's a surprise."

Marcus narrowed his eyes. "That's not comforting."

Felix hummed along with the music, keeping his eyes on the road, clearly pleased with himself. No amount of pestering got him to say more.

Marcus shifted his attention to the road, watching the streets blur past. Traffic thinned the farther they went, buildings giving way to warehouses and empty lots. Then, in the distance, something caught his eye.

A red Sphere.

"Look at the size of that one," Marcus muttered.

His confusion deepened as Felix continued toward it. "I thought we were doing blue only today?"

"We are," Felix said, grinning like an idiot. "Just a quick stop, nothing else."

Twenty minutes later, they pulled up to a checkpoint manned by guild personnel. The uniforms, the trucks, even the nearby banners all bore the same insignia—five golden claw marks slashed against a black backdrop.

"Gold Claws," Marcus muttered, taking it all in. The guild was big, organized, and known for handling high-risk Spheres all over Europe.

Beside him, Felix leaned out the window, chatting easily with one of the guards before tapping his phone against the man's. A quick credit transfer. No hesitation.

Marcus frowned as they rolled past the checkpoint into a parking lot, where a few other food trucks were already set up. "What was that about?"

"Nothing important." Felix grinned. "Just maintaining my social circle."

Marcus gave him a flat look. "Alright, what the hell is going on? I don't trust you."

Felix grinned like a man who definitely had something up his sleeve. "Nothing, I swear," he said, voice dripping with innocence—too much innocence. It only made him sound more guilty. "I'm your best friend. Why would I do anything to make you distrust me?"

Then, before Marcus could press further, Felix grabbed his shopping bag and hopped out of the truck.

Marcus didn't buy it for a second. With a sigh, he climbed out as well, still wondering why they were here.

They took a few steps away from the truck, the light from the Sphere in the distance making the air shimmer. Felix gestured ahead. "I did bring you here to help you keep a promise, though."

Marcus followed his gaze to a large group of Breachers near the Sphere, checking their weapons, adjusting gear, running last-minute inspections on their armor.

His eyes landed on her.

Blonde. Tanned. Focused as she tightened a strap on her vest.

"Lynx," he muttered.

His mind flickered back to when he first met her, bumping into her near the food truck, then chatting with her—awkwardly. He also remembered the teasing from both his uncle and Felix afterward. He hadn't told Felix about it, yet he had looked her up online a while back, curiosity getting the better of him.

Fari 'Lynx' Suarez.

The list of Spheres she had cleared was insane, so long that his fingers had ached just from scrolling. Her exact power rating wasn't public, but people online had their theories. Some guessed high hundreds. Others estimated she was well into the thousands.

'I'm lucky I didn't make a fool out of myself back then… or at least a bigger fool.'

Before he could think further, something flew toward him. His reflexes kicked in—he caught the shopping bag.

Marcus frowned and opened it, finding a plastic container with a single muffin inside.

Felix grinned. "Tadaa." A snicker followed. "You promised her you'd give her one, right? I got your back."

Marcus just stared at the muffin. Then at Felix, shooting him a glare sharp enough to cut steel.

Felix didn't flinch and kept going. "And my best friend in the whole wide world wouldn't lie, right?" He stepped closer, slinging an arm around Marcus's neck in mock affection. "Now, she's a busy Breacher, flies all over Europe handling the tough Spheres. This is a golden opportunity for you, Muffin-boy. The way I see it, you've got a few minutes before she heads in and you waste your shot. Could be months before you got another chance like this."

Then he let go and wandered off toward one of the food trucks, whistling like he hadn't just thrown Marcus to the wolves.

"I hate you," Marcus yelled after him.

Felix kept walking, raising a hand in a lazy wave without looking back.

Marcus stared at the muffin before letting out a sigh. 'This is stupid.'

Still, his feet moved before his brain could catch up. He made his way toward the Sphere, dodging scattered crates and supply trucks, only to hear a sharp sound go off.

He watched as the Breachers formed a line in front of the red barrier and stepped through one by one.

"Wait up!" Marcus called, sprinting forward yet didn't make it in time. The last of the Breachers disappeared into the Sphere, the red barrier swallowing them whole.

He skidded to a stop a dozen paces from the barrier, his breath stilling, only now noticing the guild personnel stationed nearby.

They eyed him. His ketchup-stained shirt. His clearly civilian clothes. Then, their gazes settled on the black Marks streaking his face, realizing what he was.

One of them, a woman, stepped closer. "Can we help you?"

Marcus hesitated, gripping the shopping bag tighter. "No, I just… I wanted to speak to Lynx." He cleared his throat. "About… a muffin."

Even as the words left his mouth, he hated every single one of them.

The woman frowned.

Marcus turned to glance toward the food trucks in the distance. Felix stood there, waving at him—with a damn hotdog in his other hand.

Marcus exhaled sharply and pointed—first at the Sphere, then at the bag. Felix just shrugged, mouth full, expression saying tough luck, buddy.

He started walking away from the barrier. 'Why did I even take the bait?' He let out a weird chuckle, shaking his head. 'What was I thinking? She probably doesn't even remember me. And even if she did, I was that weird bloke in a food truck who bumped into her and called her cute. A woman like her has rockstar celebrity status.'

He took a few more steps—then stopped.

His fingers tightened around the bag. That stubborn part of him, the prideful part that refused to back down from anything, took over.

"Fuck it," he muttered.

He looked back at Felix. The man had stopped waving and lowered his half-eaten food. His grin vanished, replaced with horrified understanding.

Felix shook his head and shouted something, but Marcus didn't listen.

He turned back toward the Sphere.

The guild personal reacted immediately, blocking his path.

"Hey! It's not safe—back away."

He kept walking, brushing past them with barely any effort.

A few grabbed his arms, trying to hold him back—it was as futile as a child stopping an adult. He barely noticed.

"I'm just popping in for a second. A minute max," Marcus said, his voice calm. "I just need to hand Lynx a muffin, nothing else."

Their protests grew louder, hands gripping his arms, but he kept reassuring them, moving forward like a tide they couldn't hold back.

"Honestly, in and out," he said, reaching and stepping through the barrier as the voices cut off behind him.