COZMART: Corner Shop of Visiting Gods

SECTOR 17B — HIGHWAY OVERPASS. AREA 001.

Twilight bled into the sky, a vicious, metallic red. The overpass loomed above the empty suburban sprawl like a half-eaten carcass, rebar twisting from its sides like broken ribs. Concrete dust shimmered faintly in the dying light, disturbed by the occasional groan of the unstable rift warping the atmosphere.

Somewhere above, faint howling threaded through the sky—not quite wind, not quite voice.

A low hum vibrated across the quarantine perimeter. Spirit anchors, installed by MSR field engineers, blinked green in rhythmic pulses—flickering slightly every time the rift flexed. The jade glow marked their divine-legal status as recognized stabilization points.

But even with anchors in place, the veil was thin here.

Thirty minutes ago, the last evacuation shuttles had pulled out. Civilian evacuation complete. MSR maintenance squads had been ordered back—too risky to let unarmored mortals in a zone tagged A-Class.

Not a single mortal remained.

This was Strike Team A's hunting ground now.

Meng Yao stood at the front, immaculate as ever, black suit and silver braid whipping in the distortion winds. Her gloved fingers tapped across her wrist console with sharp, mechanical precision. Barely visible, a pair of rabbit ears flickered above her crown—an unmistakable sign that Tactic Memory was active.

Through her retinal overlay, terrain fractures mapped themselves in clean lines. Seal degradation rates scrolled down the right. Rift heartbeat pattern pulsed on the left. Crosswind pressure, residual spirit traces, vibration frequencies—all rendered in cool, elegant metrics. She absorbed it all with terrifying stillness.

Behind her, the squad spread out, checking gear one last time.

Yeeko, mask halfway tugged up over his nose, coughed lightly.

"Air's already tainted." His voice was dry as sandpaper. "Whatever's coming, it's been leaking longer than reported."

Finn grinned, already flicking explosive talismans between his fingers. "Doesn't matter. It's gonna die either way."

Runan, expressionless as usual, cracked his knuckles once—faint glimmers of sealing runes etched along his knuckles catching the last light. Beside him, Chewie flipped the scanner blade in her palm absentmindedly, watching the distortion ahead with unreadable eyes.

Then, the air split. A thin crack appeared midair—just a hairline fracture at first—before yawning open with a sickening lurch.

Something dragged itself out of the rift, one limb at a time.

Ash flaked off its body in choking clouds. Bone-white armor sloughed from its frame, revealing fangs the size of human torsos—molten and jagged. A skeletal titan, cobbled together from the remnants of corrupted spirit minerals and half-melted demon cores.

The Ash-Fanged Warden.

Across the scarred overpass, a single translucent screen buzzed alive, unfurling glowing letters:

[Mission ID: RSP-A-1124]

Priority: Urgent

Assigned Unit: Team A – Fast-Response Rift Suppression

Target Location: Sector 17B, Abandoned Highway Overpass

Threat Level: A-Class Rift Entity ("Ash-Fanged Warden")

Objective: Eliminate entity core within 15 minutes of breach.

Tools Authorized: Full combat seal-loadout. Jade-tier spirit anchors permissible.

Notes: Possible secondary collapse. Speed critical.

The ground underfoot trembled as the Warden slammed a clawed hand onto the ruined highway, the corrupted energy leeching into the asphalt. Everything it touched began to desaturate, greying out like a dying memory.

Finn moved first, a gust of wind lifting his frizzy bangs to reveal dichromatic eyes. He tossed twin talismans that blossomed into roaring detonations at the Warden's exposed knee joints.

"Easy!" he crowed.

The Warden roared, and the very sound warped space. Shards of broken asphalt lifted into the air, spinning into a spiralling spectral storm.

Finn's cocky grin faltered—

But before the attack could reach him, Runan blurred into place, intercepting the blow with a flawless open-palm seal burst. The force bent reality itself for a half-second, enough to shove the attack wide before it could decapitate their striker.

"Idiot," Runan muttered under his breath.

Behind them, Yeeko was already moving, slipping along the flanks with eerie silence. He slapped miniature demolition talismans onto key fracture points along the highway—not enough to collapse it entirely, but enough to force the Warden's movements.

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And above them all, Meng Yao's voice cut through the chaos like steel wire:

"Anchor it at the eastbound girder. Chewie—cut the right forelimb first. Yeeko—sector eight charges ready on my mark."

Her ability flooded her with real-time schematics, down to the micro-fractures under the overpass asphalt. The entire battlefield bent under her optimisation.

"Copy," Chewie said simply, her blade expanding into full lethal mode with a hum of ancient runes.

"Charges in place," Yeeko rasped.

Finn, flipping another talisman into his palm, turned to Runan. "Bet you ten jade stones I tag it before you can even blink."

Runan looked at him with dead eyes. "You'll be unconscious before you finish blinking."

The Warden lunged, faster than a creature its size had any right to move. The squad split like water, their practiced synergy kicking in without hesitation.

And then among them all, Chewie moved.

Like a bullet from a silent rifle.

The eleven-year-old blitzed forward—a flash of crimson and steel—slipping beneath the Warden's swinging claws with inhuman agility. One second, she was crouched behind Finn's forward cover, and the next, her blade arced upward, slicing into the Warden's corrupted shoulder joint with surgical precision.

A spray of molten ash burst from the wound, hissing against the cold night air.

Across her exposed arms, for a split second, intricate scars—old, ancient war markings—flickered to life. A reminder of a much older, far more terrifying identity buried beneath her borrowed flesh.

Meng Yao sidestepped debris and spoke into her comms without so much as glancing up. "Secondary fracture detected at its sternum. Finn, reroute your seals."

"Got it, boss lady!" Finn chirped.

"Don't call me that."

While reloading, Finn grumbled audibly enough for Runan to smirk.

Meanwhile, above the furious roar of the crippled Warden, Meng Yao spared a glance at Chewie during a the brief lull.

"You've adapted better to this vessel than I expected."

Chewie gave her a side glance, not even breaking stride as she pivoted into a second strike. "Takes practice. Didn't choose it... But it works."

Meng Yao's mouth twitched—not quite a smile.

"Suits you quite well."

"I didn't ask."

With the creature boxed into a kill zone, Finn's mid-range talismans and Runan's palm seals drove it downward like iron stakes through an ancient beast's heart.

Across the battlefield, Chewie ducked a corrupted claw swipe and vaulted up the beast's armoured spine. As she drove her blade deeper into the Warden's exposed ribs, she thought, half amused:

If Eathan saw me like this, he'd probably shit his pants.

And with that cheerful thought, she drove her blade straight through the creature's central core, igniting a roar of collapsing energy that ripped across the crumbling ruins like a sonic boom.

The Warden's final screech ripped through the air—then shattered all together. A sickly shockwave pulsed outward, rattling their bones. Ash fluttered down like filthy snow.

Chewie landed lightly from her last strike, blade dripping luminous ichor. Yeeko's perfectly timed detonations collapsed the overpass's last support struts, cutting off its escape route. Runan sealed the west flank with fluid strikes, anchoring every secondary rift trying to bud off.

The rift, gnawing the sky open moments before, collapsed in a muted whoomph. Spirit anchors along the overpass flared steadily green, stabilizing the wounded sector. The spiritual static in the air lightened almost immediately, leaving only the heavy scent of dust and half-burned ozone.

Meng Yao's wrist console beeped once.

[TIMER]: 00:12:06

She clicked her tongue softly.

"Thirty seconds faster next time. Finn, over-extended your second volley. And Runan, too conservative on your third anchor shift."

"Understood," Runan said curtly, without a flicker of offense.

Finn, wiping a smear of blood off his collar, smirked lopsidedly. "Hey, still beat the clock. What did I say—" he flicked a glance at the slowly dissipating rift, "—easy job, right?"

Yeeko coughed lightly into his sleeve, muttering something about jinxes.

As they regrouped under the crumbling archways, Finn cocked his head as he suddenly recalled something. "Wonder how Team B's doing. Heard the intern's got some... special attention?"

Runan, still cinching a wrist seal taut, shook his head. "Only a fool guesses the commander's plans."

Meng Yao shot Finn a flat, glinting look—the kind that promised paperwork drills if he kept yapping.

Finn shut his mouth immediately.

***

HQ. AREA 001.

Deep within HQ's restricted zone, reality itself buzzed faintly.

The air inside was cool and heavy, insulated by dense layers of enchantment and modern tech.

Taeril sat languidly at the far end of a dim conference room, the soft blue light of a semi-runic channel washing over his posture.

A steaming cup of black coffee rested at his fingertips.

The encrypted semi-runic link lit up, and across the channel, Li Wei's feed stabilized. The man crouched haphazardly over a battered holopad, chopsticks dangling two strands of soggy instant noodles mid-bite.

Taeril, sipping slowly, arched an eyebrow: "You look well."

Li Wei, noodles dangling, squinted: "...Can you not?"

Deciding to ignore the white-haired man's reaction for his well-being, Li Wei clicked onto a half-dozen holographic windows floating in front of him. The tabs were filled with RealmNet traffic graphs, sentiment trackers, and—somewhat hilariously—a betting pool spreadsheet marked "Council Collapse Odds."

"Heated is an understatement," he muttered. "RealmNet's turning into a cosmic casino. Some of the immortals are even running bets on who gets voted out first."

Taeril hummed lowly. "Lady Foxfire?"

"Top contender," Li Wei confirmed grimly, scrolling past another meme of Great Peng photoshopped over a stock image of a CEO getting fired. "Council's weak right now. One swing seat already empty. If you fall, they'll scramble to install replacements—meaning the Jade Deity'll have to intervene."

He pushed his laptop aside and leaned forward, more serious now.

"Ao Bing, Wen, and Qiongqi are all banking on it. It's a perfect storm for a power reshuffle."

Taeril simply nodded, as if none of it concerned him directly. Li Wei tapped another tab open. The screen shifted to more covert reports: metadata, transmission flags, node interference rates.

"Also. Council dogs left fleas in your house."

Meaning: sabotage agents. Already burrowed in deep.

Li Wei's mouth twisted into a thin, sardonic line. "No obvious proof. No smoking gun. But the patterns are there. Small sabotage, operational leaks, misreported equilibrium readings. Enough to chip you apart slowly without looking suspicious."

He shrugged.

"They're betting you'll bleed yourself dry before you even see them."

Taeril set down his coffee with a soft click. For a moment, only silence ruled the room. Then, his voice emerged, light and casual as a scalpel sliding beneath the skin.

"Good. Saves me the trouble of hunting."

Li Wei blinked. "...I forgot you're insane."

Taeril didn't argue.

A shadow converged near the door frame. A knock, and Meng Yao appeared outside the glass doors a moment later, back from her sector report. She bowed crisply, a cigarette case in her gloved hand—a habitual offering.

Taeril glanced at it, amused, but waved her off. Instead, he rose fluidly to his feet, the shadows stretching long behind him. His expression didn't change, yet something older was stirring beneath his skin.

Words soft, almost gentle, trickled into the air:

"Prepare the list."

His eyes glinted—not with rage, but the cold, amused precision of a predator who had been waiting far too long.

"Tonight," Taeril said, "we clean house."