Breachers

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

When Lasagna Divides

The air inside the Sphere felt heavy, thick with mana so dense it made the world shimmer at the edges. Red dust swirled in sluggish spirals, disturbed by the boots of the Breachers moving across cracked, sun-scorched earth. The ground rose and fell in uneven ridges, parched and brittle, as if every last drop of moisture had been ripped from it long ago.

Nearby, a half-buried car sat rusting, its body warped far beyond what time alone could have done. Jagged streaks of corrosion clawed through its metal as if it had aged centuries in mere moments. Another lay overturned, its frame half-melted into the earth, tires long since devoured by the Sphere's unnatural decay.

The Breachers moved with practiced efficiency, their thick steel armor dull under the crimson haze. Each set bore the same unmistakable mark—five golden claw slashes emblazoned across their pauldrons.

Lynx stood among them, helmet strapped to her side, speaking with the squad captains, who barked orders and split their teams into formation. Some moved to secure their flanks, while others prepared for deeper infiltration.

Lynx was finishing a discussion when the man in front of her hesitated. His brow furrowed, lips parting slightly as he glanced over her shoulder.

She caught the shift instantly. "What?" she asked, her voice even.

The captain didn't answer right away. Instead, he just pointed.

Lynx turned, frowning, just in time to see a man step through the barrier.

His clothes were all wrong—jeans, a t-shirt, red sneakers, none of it fit the environment. "A civilian?" she muttered, seeing the man holding a shopping bag in one hand. He moved carefully, hesitantly, like he knew full well he didn't belong.

Her expression hardened for a split second before her eyes widened in recognition.

The others noticed him now. The murmur spread, dozens of heads turning toward the newcomer. Some looked confused. Most looked pissed.

Marcus stopped a few paces away, rubbing the back of his head as their attention pressed down on him. He gave a small, nervous cough.

"Hey again," he said, taking a step forward. His tone was light, almost casual—too casual for the situation. "Sorry to bother you all. Monsters and all."

A Breacher, bulkier than most, stepped toward him, armor clanking. The kind of guy who didn't need to say anything to make it clear he wanted Marcus gone.

Lynx lifted a hand, and the Breacher stopped immediately.

"I'll handle this. Get ready to push on the Orb," she said, stepping toward the newcomer.

She stopped a few paces from Marcus, eyeing him with a mix of curiosity and confusion. "Marcus, right? The sleeping warrior."

"Yeah," Marcus said, shifting slightly. His plan had basically been to just pop in, hand it over and leave. In his head, it had seemed funny for a second. But now, standing here, surrounded by people gearing up to fight with monsters probably minutes away, the whole thing just felt stupid—and risky.

"Good that you remembered me," he added. "Otherwise, this would've been even weirder."

"Oh, it's plenty weird already," Lynx said, a small smile tugging at her lips. "As for remembering you, well… it's not easy to forget someone after being called a dude. Kinda leaves an impression."

Marcus winced. "Yeah, sorry about that… and this. My friend Felix—you know, the guy from the food truck—put me up to it."

"And 'this' is, what exactly?" Her gaze flicked to the black marks on his face before settling back on him. "Also, you really shouldn't be here, you know. There's too much mana in here for an Alpha to handle for more than a few minutes."

"Mana doesn't really seem to bother me. And I've been in a Red before… a few days ago, actually."

He didn't notice the way Lynx's eyes narrowed slightly or the flicker of confusion that crossed her face. He was already reaching into the shopping bag, focused on pulling out the muffin.

"There you go," he said, holding it out. "I owed you one, remember?"

Lynx just stared at the muffin for a moment, then looked back at him. A few seconds passed before she let out a quiet chuckle. "You know this is weird, right?"

"Oh, I know," Marcus said, grinning as he folded up the bag, stuffing it into his back pocket. He straightened his clothes, brushed off some red dust, then frowned at the ketchup stain on his shirt. "But a promise is a promise, right?"

"A promise is a promise," she agreed before an amused smirk formed on her face. "But I recall you calling it a bribe before."

Marcus shifted his feet awkwardly. "Yeah, I've been told I'm not great at being subtle… or charismatic. No doubt my friends and family have a dozen more descriptions to join that list."

His gaze flicked past her, toward the other Breachers and the growing force of monsters forming a battle line in the distance.

"Anyway, I promised I'd keep it short—I'd rather not get arrested over a muffin. So, enjoy." He took a few steps back, nodding toward her. "Good luck with the Sphere."

Lynx just stared at him, looking slightly amused. Then, as she flipped the muffin over, her expression shifted. She frowned, eyes narrowing as she noticed something on the bottom.

"You might not be subtle, but you are quite the bold person, aren't you?" she asked.

Marcus slowed his retreat, looking confused as he backed into the barrier. He felt the strange pull of it as he slid through, his vision distorting for a brief second. Then, just before he slipped through the barrier fully, he saw it—the bottom of the muffin container, a number scribbled onto it in Felix's handwriting.

His brain short-circuited for a moment before realization struck. 'Wait, that's my phone number!'

He barely had time to process it as the barrier swallowed him whole. On the other side, through the shifting distortion, he saw Lynx in the distance. She gave him a quick wave before sliding her helmet on and turning back to join the other Breachers.

As Marcus stepped out, he wondered how he was supposed to feel about all of this. His so-called friend had basically manipulated him into the encounter, taking the term 'wingman' to a whole new level.

When he turned around, he spotted Felix leaning against his food truck, watching him with a mixture of relief and worry.

Marcus made his way over to him, debating whether to thank Felix for his efforts—or just kick him in the shins.

- - -

Several hours later, they drove back into New Haven, its skyline cutting into the evening sky. Felix had been going on about how much they earned today, especially how well the new Breacher-Burger-Buns were selling—despite Marcus's protests that the name was lame. Through it all, Marcus only half-listened, still mulling over the whole muffin incident and occasionally glancing at his phone, as if expecting a text.

Felix pulled up in front of the apartment complex and put the truck in park. The streetlights flickered above, casting long shadows over the worn pavement.

"Well, here we are," Felix said, drumming his fingers against the wheel. Then, without missing a beat, he grabbed his phone and tapped it against Marcus's, the soft chime confirming the credit transfer.

If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

He leaned back, glancing at the apartment complex. "You ready for dinner with your sister?"

Marcus sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Yeah. Either it'll be a nice meal where I get to hear about what her guild's been up to, or it'll be another well-deserved rant about how reckless I've been the last few months."

Felix smirked. "Sounds about right, considering you've been reckless since you got out of the hospital." He tapped the wheel. "You'll be fine?"

"I'll be fine."

Felix shot him a knowing look. "Look, if it gets bad, call me. I'll pick you up—and you're buying the drinks, alright?"

Marcus snorted but nodded.

Felix grinned. "Good. Now, you good for another run tomorrow?"

Marcus considered it for a moment. He could still feel the weight of the day settling in, but credits were credits, and his plan to get more Mana-batteries was dependent on them.

"Sure, why not? I could use the money."

Felix gasped dramatically. "Not because of my charming personality? I'm hurt."

Marcus snorted. "Yeah, real tragic."

Felix just grinned, flipping him off as he leaned back. Marcus, without hesitation, returned the gesture.

With a laugh, Felix revved the engine, throwing the truck into gear. "Later, Muffin-man."

Marcus stepped back as the food truck rumbled off, its taillights disappearing into the city. He turned toward the apartment complex, letting out a slow breath.

"Into the lion's den we go," he muttered before heading inside.

Marcus stepped inside and shut the door behind him. The apartment complex was quiet, the only sound his own footsteps as he made his way toward the stairwell. He took the steps slowly, more out of habit than exhaustion, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

A new message lit up in his inbox—Bastion.

┏ ┓

"Gym's exterior has been secured a bit more, along with solar panel.

The old man says it's finally a 'proper' setup.

Pepper spray brat has been showing me the ropes in terms of looking for Glass.

Also clearing houses around the gym to make it 'accidental Sphere' proof.

Got a decent amount already.. "

-Bastion

┗ ┛

Marcus let out a quiet laugh as he deleted the message. He could already picture the old man fussing over the place like a retired general inspecting a war camp. His mind drifted to the Glass that Bastion and Kate had already gathered, and whether the other Sphere that Specter was scouting could be a viable target for securing another Orb.

His fingers tapped against his phone screen as he considered his next move—Glass and Orbs. He mulled over it as he reached his sister's floor, taking in the stark contrast to where he and Felix lived. The hall was clean, the lighting even and warm—nothing like the flickering bulbs and scuffed-up walls he was used to.

Marcus took it all in while stuffing his phone away. He stepped toward Joline's door, lifting his hand to knock—then froze.

Voices.

His brow furrowed. 'Martin?' he thought, staying still and listening closely.

"You're being stubborn," Joline said, irritation clear in her tone. "It's been months already. It's time to give him a break."

"A break?" Martin shot back. Marcus heard the soft thud of crutches shifting against the floor. "It's been years since he was gone. Years! And ever since he's been back, he's been jumping from one problem to the next. He hasn't changed at all."

"Martin, that isn't fair. I'm a Breacher as well. It's part of the job that—"

"Oh, please. Stop enabling him. You're in a guild. He's out there, going from Sphere to Sphere on a whim. And the last one? A red one. Red, Joline. You said it yourself that he went in there on his own."

Marcus pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning back against the wall with a slow exhale. 'At least he's talking to her,' he thought, trying to find some silver lining.

For a second, he debated turning around, leaving them to it, yet lost that chance when the door swung open.

"I'm not doing this, Joline. Not until he grows up."

Martin stepped into the hallway—then froze when their eyes met.

Marcus opened his mouth, trying to think of something—anything—to say, but Martin was already walking away.

"Martin, wait," Marcus reached out, grabbing his arm. "Come on! Just talk to me."

His brother just stiffened. "Let me go."

Marcus held on. "I'm your brother. Just talk to me. Not being in your life the last thirteen years wasn't my fault. I was in a coma."

No reaction. No shift in expression. Not even a flicker of emotion.

Marcus's grip tightened. "You think I wanted any of that? You think I wanted to miss that much time? To miss you and Joline growing up? You ever think about how it was for me?"

The sound of movement behind him drew his attention. Joline had stepped into the hallway, her expression wary as she took in the sight of them.

Martin didn't look at her. His voice was quiet, strained. "Let me go. Now."

Marcus didn't budge. "Dude, I tried to give you all the space you needed. I tried to keep it slow, but you're the one being stubborn here. It's been over three months." He stared at his brother after that, yet didn't see any reaction.

He exhaled sharply, frustration creeping into his voice. "Fucking hell, man. What did I do? Sorry I was buried in rubble and wasn't here. Sorry I was trapped in my own body and left to rot for years on end. But I didn't kill Mom and—"

The second the word mom left his mouth, Martin spun and drove his fist into Marcus's face.

The hit was solid. More than that, it had weight—raw, unfiltered anger Martin had been holding back for who-knew-how-long.

Marcus barely moved, taking the hit without flinching.

Martin blinked and for a brief second, he looked almost startled that Marcus had just tanked the punch like it was nothing.

Marcus calmly let go of his brother's arm and stepped back. He lifted a hand, rubbing his jaw.

"Walk away, hurt me, do whatever you want. That's your choice." His voice was calm. Steady. "I'm still your brother."

Martin just stared at him. Annoyance, frustration, something deeper that Marcus couldn't quite name flashed across his face before he shook his head and turned.

Then he stormed off, the tap of his crutches echoing down the hall and stairs.

Marcus stood there, staring down the empty hallway—angry, confused, hurt.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder as his sister stepped next to him.

"Brothers are stupid," Joline muttered—half joking, half honest. "Come on. I made lasagna."

Marcus exhaled, shaking off the tension before following her inside.

The apartment was warm, well-lit, carrying the faint scent of tomato sauce and melted cheese. On the table, three plates sat neatly arranged, along with glasses and silverware.

His chest ached as he took it all in. 'She really went all out,' he thought, the weight of her effort settling in—not just tonight, but for years. Fighting to keep their family together. Holding on, even when all of it had been slipping through her fingers.

He pulled out a chair, sitting down with a heavy sigh. "Sorry it didn't go as planned, sis." He rubbed his jaw absently. The punch hadn't hurt physically—but emotionally? That was another matter entirely. A part of him even smirked at the thought—apparently, no amount of Endurance stat improvements could make him immune to that.

Joline sat across from him, already serving food. "Yeah, to be honest, I didn't have high hopes. You two are equally stubborn and prideful. But I figured it was worth a shot." She smirked, sliding a full plate in front of him. "I hope you're hungry, because you're eating for two."

"I've got that covered." Marcus grabbed his fork, poking at his food before his gaze drifted back toward the door—where Martin had just been.

"You think it'll ever be good between us?"

Joline opened her mouth, as if to reassure him but hesitated, her expression shifting. She sank down further into her chair, tapping her fork against her plate before finally muttering, "I don't know."

Silence hung between them.

She poked at her own food. "Martin is… broken, I guess. Something died back then and left a hole. I don't know if it can be fixed."

Then she forced a small smile, one that didn't quite reach her eyes. As she spoke, her fingers curled around the fabric of her shirt, just over the thin chain resting against her chest. The faint outline of two rings showed through the fabric.

Marcus's gaze flicked to her hand, then away. He knew what she held—and why.

"But we're family," she said, voice quieter now. "So we'll keep trying until it works, right?"

Marcus nodded and took a bite of lasagna—only to hiss as the molten cheese burned his tongue. He waved a hand in front of his mouth, chewing carefully as Joline smirked at him.

They ate in peace for a few minutes, the clink of silverware the only sound, until Joline broke the silence.

She told him about her guild—how they'd recently brought in two new Breachers—then asked about Felix and checked if Marcus had recovered after the red Sphere incident.

He answered the last question quickly—too quickly—praying she wouldn't press him on it.

"So," she finally asked, leaning back in her chair. "Anything new and exciting happen to you and Felix today?"

"Not really." He grabbed another forkful of lasagna and stuffed it in his mouth. "Did a few blue Spheres with him. Long hours, but honest credits, I guess."

As he spoke, he pulled out his phone, opening his banking app.

Joline caught on immediately, tilting her phone away to block any chance of a transfer to her account.

Marcus smirked. 'Stubborn fool.'

He took another bite while she spoke up again. "It's good that Felix is taking you under his wing. I'd rather you sell food for a living than step inside another Sphere. It might not be as eventful, but it—"

"Oh, it can be eventful, alright," Marcus said, cutting in with his mouth still full. "Felix tricked me… into giving my number… to a woman."

Joline paused, blinking. Then a slow grin spread across her face. "Tricked? Jesus Christ, you two actually have to con each other into talking to girls?"

"Nope," Marcus corrected her while still chewing. "Just to hand over our numbers. We're innocent flowers after all."

She laughed, shaking her head. "So, who is she? Someone from work, or did you meet her at the bar?"

"She's a Breacher," he mumbled around another bite, but Joline heard him loud and clear. Her grin faded slightly. "A Breacher?" Her expression hardened. "If she's from my guild, I'm going to kick your ass. You know that, right?"

Marcus just shook his head, grabbing his phone again. He scrolled through his phone, muttering, "I don't have high hopes. She's way out of my league in every category. Besides, I'm not even sure I want to date right now. So yeah, Felix tricked me into handing over my number."

He turned the screen toward her. "This is her," he said, showing a tanned blonde woman.

"She looks serious," Joline said, studying the picture—then scrolled down, her face paling.

"Lynx…"

"Yeah, that's her nickname."

"Gold Claws Lynx…" Joline's voice lowered to a whisper. "You gave your number to one of the most dangerous women in Europe. Someone who could crush normal guilds on her own."

Marcus, still chewing, grinned. "Told you the food truck business can be eventful."

Joline exploded in a dozen questions all at once while Marcus just kept chewing, appreciating the fact that his sister looked about a minute away from having a stroke.