Bainin
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Chapter 262: High Alert
🕑 Added 2025-04-03 18:51:34 +0000 UTCThey sat in silence, watching the violence unfold on screen—unrelenting, hour after hour. The battle raged without pause, but it was the initial blow—the torn-off section of the station from the first wave—that remained the most devastating hit to the Coalition’s defenses.
Ships and drones continued to fall in droves, and while the station endured scattered damage, the invaders had failed to replicate the breach caused by their pre-charged opening salvo.
Alistair’s eyes followed a group of tugs hauling the broken station segment back toward the main structure, even as the Coalition drove the enemy back with growing ferocity.
All three of the original capital ships had long since been destroyed—replaced by fresh invaders of differing design, each one probing for weaknesses the first wave couldn’t exploit.
At the other bridge, the insectoid faction had proven to be the most enduring—and the most numerous. Unlike the others, they had yet to be cycled out or replaced. All the while, Coalition reinforcements continued to arrive, bolstering the defensive line with fresh ships and firepower.
“Our fleets are ready to jump if the Blackmarket Syndicate decides to rear its ugly head,” Nessyra announced, swiping away her system display.
“Good,” Nomura replied. “Our forces will take a few minutes longer.”
Alistair nodded. The Syndicates had used the last expansion to strike at several Coalition-aligned factions.
But this time, we’ll be ready. Alistair thought.
Several of their allies had already been located by Syndicate scouts—their homeworlds exposed. Now, their fleets waited on standby, jump drives primed to activate the moment a call for aid came through.
Unlike most factions that had been discovered, they’d had the rare luxury of settling on a world of their own choosing. It gave them—and the Beshin—a serious advantage.
The magic-formed intergalactic nebulae hadn’t existed in their current state before the system changes. Back then, nearly none of those regions would have been habitable. Most were tightly bound to local galaxies, and life was scarce.
But with the introduction of magic, the already near-infinite spread of stars and worlds had expanded even further. Life had become more common, more adaptable—and the universe, impossibly vast before, had grown even harder to chart.
Even with immense resources and the ability to jump staggering distances, it remained far too massive to map—too deep for even the Aegis Coalition or the Blackmarket Syndicates to grasp fully and it would take years yet to map even a portion of it.
And that vastness was precisely why they hadn’t been found. Not yet, or so he hoped, as their fleets were also ready and prepared to fight in case they were to be attacked.
“Any word from our allies?” Riseth asked.
“Not as of yet,” Nessyra replied. “Everyone’s on high alert. The Ethos Crusade has reported an uptick in Green Tide activity, but aside from that, none of our allies within the New Light Alliance have reported any attacks.”
Riseth nodded, her gaze sweeping back to the displays as she tracked the ongoing battles; they knew this would be a tough few weeks.
As expected, they remained on high alert for several weeks, rotating through shifts focused on training, cultivation, and other practices they could perform without being out of reach in case of an attack, which meant they couldn't delve into unknown dungeons or Nivareth.
But the attacks never came, at least not against their alliance. Other Coalition-aligned factions were hit, but none severely enough to warrant their intervention. More notably, the Syndicate’s most powerful figures remained suspiciously quiet—almost no sightings, no large movements, hardly any involvement in the attacks that did happen.
Meanwhile, the battle at the bridges continued but eventually settled into a grim rhythm. The most aggressive pushes came in bursts—just as they had before the expansion.
Alistair sat on the couch in the command center, quietly watching the screens as he continued tempering his body. Beside him, his brother was hunched over a piece of machinery—dense with interlocking components and layered enchantments that reached into arcane substrates even Alistair struggled to perceive. Whatever it was, the device demanded nearly all of James’s attention.
“I really thought the Syndicates would make a big move to regain relevance,” James commented, turning the spherical machine in his hands.
“Something does feel off.” Alistair’s fingers drummed against the edge of the couch. “None of the Syndicates’ true elites showed themselves. Not a single one.”
“Maybe they took too much of a beating from the Coalition?” James didn’t look up, eyes glazing slightly as he tapped into some kind of perception skill.
“I doubt it.” Alistair leaned back. “There are millions of factions out there—most don’t give a damn about the Syndicates or the Coalition. They’ve got ways to avoid trouble, same as us. Our universe is already vast beyond comprehension.”
“Fair.” James rotated the device, adjusting something with a faint click. “Then maybe they know something we don’t? If they were planning an attack, the window’s already pretty much closed.”
Alistair hummed. “Maybe,” he allowed. “But what would make them want to see the Coalition succeed? They thrive on chaos. If the Coalition holds the line, that’s five more years of them being on the back foot.”
“Maybe they’ve been weakened enough. Or the Coalition’s just strong enough now that pushing back would be a futile gesture—and they’re picking their battles instead?” James turned the device slowly in his hands, expression unreadable.
Alistair leaned back slightly, eyes still on the screen. “I feel like the bridges have pretty much stabilized. We should probably start dialing back the alert level and return to our routines soon. I only got one more level during all this, and I was already close to that threshold weeks ago—I’d hate to waste more time.”
He and Riseth were both incredibly close to advancing their grade, and the delay caused by the bridge expansion had worn on them both. More than once, Alistair had wondered if he was just being too impatient.
James didn’t look up from the device. “While I appreciate these breaks and talks, I’d also rather be working in my workshop.”
Alistair chuckled, rolling his eyes. “Of course you would. You’d vanish into that workshop forever if we let you. If there’s one good thing that came out of all this, it’s that we actually got you out of your hole for a while.”
“Guilty as charged.” A small smile tugged at James’s lips as he set the apparatus down in front of him and leaned back into the couch. “But yeah, I’ll talk to Nessy. I think she’ll agree to ease the alertness level.”
The doors to the command center slid open. Simon and Denodia stepped in, and both Alistair and James perked up—though their attention skewed noticeably toward Denodia.
“Hey guys,” Simon called out with a knowing smile.
They returned the greeting. Denodia let out a sigh, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.
“I can’t say I don’t love the attention... though it stings to know you two only care about whether I caught a glimpse.”
“I know, right?” Simon gave her a playful nudge. “I’m starting to feel like a second-class citizen over here.”
“Well, did you catch a glimpse?” Alistair asked, by now a veteran at dodging her innuendos.
She let out a long, theatrical sigh as she settled into the couch. “I did.”
“And?” James leaned forward, even setting his work aside.
“Something’s coming. Something big. I can’t tell what it is yet... but it’s not a bad thing. And it’s not tied to the Syndicates, either.”
“That’s vague—even for you.” Alistair tilted his head. “What did you see, exactly?”
Denodia pouted before replying. “I saw a nebula—or something like it. Filled with strange worlds, dungeons, and realms. But every time I try to revisit the vision, it’s different. A new nebula, new structures, new rules. It’s chaotic, yet somehow... ordered. I can’t make sense of what it means, or why it feels so important.”
“Any visions on the Blackmarket Syndicate? Or the bridges?” Simon asked.
“None. At least, nothing worth noting.”
“Well,” Alistair said as he got up, “I’m calling it for today. I’ve been awake for three days, and I really need a nap.”
He saw Denodia’s body shift and tense, and before she could speak up, he added, “And no, I don’t need company.”
Denodia pouted. “You’re no fun.”
Alistair covered his mouth as he let out a long yawn, “Sorry. Maybe someone else will take you up on it.”
He said his goodbyes and headed straight for his quarters, where he found Riseth already snoring, curled up under the sheets.
After a quick shower, he joined her. She instinctively snuggled into his arms, her tail wrapping around his leg.
By morning, Nessyra’s assistant Zarrias' voice slid through the Akashic link—sharp, efficient, and unmistakably deliberate, addressing the entirety of the Ryser Clan, excluding civilians and children.
“Attention. Effective immediately, alert status is lowered to Code Green. Standard protocols are now back in effect. Combat craft may return to scheduled patrols and downtime allotments. Ground squadrons may begin extended free periods according to rotation. The situation at the bridges has stabilized. If you have questions, direct them through your standard chain of command. That will be all.”
Alistair took another bite of his breakfast bagel, glancing at Riseth, who tilted her head at the same moment—clearly listening in.
“That came across a bit stiff,” he noted.
Riseth shrugged. “It’s an announcement. Got the message across.” A smile tugged at her lips. “More importantly, that means we can get back to delving Nivareth.”
Alistair lifted his hand, inspecting the incomplete lotus pattern forming on the back. “It’s getting there. We’ll need a few more.”
“More importantly,” Riseth leaned in, eyes glinting, “we’re only two levels away from advancing our grade. Seriously—I love a bit of teasing as much as the next gal, but this…”
“I get it,” Alistair chuckled. “I think we should take King with us this time. Properly challenge ourselves again—go for another petal and some level ups.”
“Agreed.” Riseth finished off her bagel and stood. “I’ll grab some measuring tools from James. Meet you at the gate?”
“Sure.” Alistair stretched his shoulders. “I already pinged King. He’s eager to start, so I’ll see you there.”
It only took Riseth about ten minutes to make her detour, thanks to the teleportation pads. Alistair waved her down as she arrived at the rift gate to Nivareth, where he and King—currently in his human form—were already waiting.
James had asked them to bring the measuring device into Nivareth to collect data on the strange properties of its subspaces—such as heavy time dilation, among others—with the long-term goal of replicating the effects.
They stepped through the portal with little fanfare, heading for their usual waiting spot at the edge of the lotus—a balcony where they could quickly launch toward the wall of storms if a suitable scenario presented itself.
A few of their clanmates were already scattered around the lotus. They exchanged brief waves as Alistair and the others flew past.
Once they reached their usual spot, they found it still unoccupied. They pulled out two chairs and settled in, eyes drawn to the ever-shifting storm and the silhouettes cast in bursts of lightning.
“It does have a certain appeal.” Riseth watched as a few clan members veered toward a silhouette shaped like a massive jellyfish.
“It does.” Alistair nodded, already summoning Viv.
She pawed at his lap the moment she appeared, spun a few tight circles, then curled up and made herself comfortable.
“Let’s just hope we don’t have to wait too long for a real challenge.” King crossed his arms, leaning against a wall with a slight sigh.
“Already eager to escape back to the nest?” Riseth didn’t bother hiding her amusement.
"Oh, I'm glad for the break," King admitted, scratching his cheek. "But—"
"But Rovari’s going to chew you out if you’re gone too long?" Riseth teased, a cheeky smile tugging at her lips.
King let out a low chuckle and nodded. "Yeah… something like that."
"Then let’s just hope we don’t get caught in another multi-year scenario," Alistair said, a little too casually.
King froze. His posture stiffened, face twisting into an exaggerated mask of horror—still clearly getting used to humanoid expressions.
Alistair’s grin widened. "Relax. We wouldn’t put you through that again… Probably."
King exhaled hard, tension bleeding out of him. Realizing he’d been baited, he shot them a narrowed glare before dropping into a seat with a resigned huff.
They turned back toward the wall of the storm ahead, watching the ever-shifting front writhe in the distance, waiting for the ever-so-familiar tug on their soul.
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