The atmosphere inside the subterranean command center was tense. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a sterile glow over the room filled with high-tech consoles, holographic displays, and giant monitors. Streams of live surveillance footage fed directly from the dungeon's interior flickered on the main screen, showing carnage, collapsed tunnels, and the blood-soaked remnants of a battlefield.
General Yoshi Matsuda stood at the center of it all—his sharp eyes locked on the footage of the task force's rescue. His uniform was immaculate, medals gleaming against his chest, but his expression was grim. Arms crossed, jaw clenched, he watched in silence as Genghis Asura and his team of weaponized infected systematically dismantled the last of the wolf monsters that had nearly wiped out the elite Dungeon Exploration Task Force.
"Status report," he commanded without turning his gaze from the screen.
A junior officer stepped forward with a tablet in hand, voice tense. "Sir, Task Force casualties confirmed. Fifty-eight of the original ninety-two are dead. Fifteen are critically wounded and receiving field treatment. The remaining nineteen are operational, but morale is… significantly compromised."
A quiet gasp rippled through the room of military and government officials. The death toll was higher than any of them had expected.
General Matsuda's lips pressed into a thin line. "So we've lost over sixty percent of our personnel." He turned to face the room. "This was supposed to be a standard dungeon clearance operation. What went wrong?"
"Sir," another officer—Colonel Hayashi—spoke up, "intel suggested the dungeon was low-level. The wolves… they were beyond E-Rank parameters. Their coordination, pack tactics, and resistance to gunfire indicate mutation. Likely exposure to unstable dungeon energy."
Across the room, murmurs rose from the civilian officials. The Minister of Internal Affairs, an aging but shrewd man named Kazuya Takimoto, stepped forward.
"With all due respect, General Matsuda," he began, adjusting his glasses, "this was a military operation under government oversight. We were led to believe your forces were adequately prepared for all contingencies."
"They were," Matsuda said sharply. "But no one anticipated dungeon evolution on this scale. This isn't just random emergence. Something is changing beneath the surface—and fast."
Another screen lit up, showing thermal scans of the dungeon network stretching under Tokyo. Red veins pulsed brighter in the deeper layers, a sign of unstable energy convergence. Something was brewing. Something big.
Minister Takimoto looked uneasy but pressed the issue. "Then we must consider whether the mission should proceed. The original objective remains incomplete. Valuable resources and intelligence lie deeper within that dungeon."
A female voice cut through the room. Captain Reina Fujita, the the lead analyst in charge of the task force operation, stood with arms folded. "We barely got the survivors out alive. Sending them back in would be a death sentence."
"But they now have the support of the infected assault team," countered Dr. Shuhei Okamoto, a civilian liaison from the Department of Paranormal Affairs. His lab coat gave away his roots in scientific experimentation. "If we pull out now, we risk losing the momentum. We also lose the opportunity to study the infected's effectiveness in real combat. Their coordination with human soldiers is the next step in our hybrid warfare program."
Matsuda's eyes narrowed. "You'd gamble what's left of my task force for data?"
Dr. Okamoto didn't flinch. "We're at war, General. A war we don't yet understand. We need results."
Captain Fujita slammed a hand on the table. "Those are soldiers, not test subjects."
The room erupted in competing voices. Government officials debated cost-benefit analysis. Scientists pushed for tactical data collection. Military officers warned of another massacre. The debate churned like a storm—loud, fractured, and raw with tension.
General Matsuda raised his hand, silencing the room.
He took a breath and stepped forward. "Enough."
Silence settled again.
"I've led soldiers into warzones. I've seen men and women give everything for their country. I will not—will not—treat them as expendable."
Dr. Okamoto opened his mouth to protest, but Matsuda cut him off.
"That said," Matsuda continued, "we don't have the luxury of retreat. We're up against an evolving threat. If we don't push forward now, the next dungeon eruption could happen in a populated zone. You all saw what happened in Osaka. We got lucky that time."
Minister Takimoto sighed, nodding slowly. "Then what do you propose?"
General Matsuda looked at the screen again—Lieutenant Sato, wounded but still issuing orders, rallying the remnants of his team. Genghis Asura and the infected standing nearby, unmoving, like beasts awaiting a master's command.
"We give the survivors a choice," Matsuda said at last. "They can return to the surface, be debriefed, and reassigned. No shame in pulling out. They've already seen more than most ever do."
"And if they stay?" asked Captain Fujita.
"Then they're reinforced with the infected unit. A hybrid command structure. Lieutenant Sato leads, but Genghis Asura has operational autonomy in combat. Their objectives will be recon and data retrieval—not prolonged engagement unless absolutely necessary."
"And the infected?" Minister Takimoto asked warily. "They're… stable?"
"As stable as they can be," Matsuda answered. "They follow orders. They'll complete the mission."
There was a heavy pause. No one liked the plan—but no one had a better one.
"Then it's settled," Minister Takimoto said. "We proceed—cautiously. But General…" he gave a weary glance toward the screens, "…we're walking a very thin line. If those infected break rank, the consequences could be catastrophic."
Matsuda's face was stone. "They won't. Because if they do—I'll be the one to put them down."
The screens flickered again—new feeds coming in as the task force survivors regrouped at the edge of the dungeon's second layer. Genghis Asura stood at the front, staring into the darkness ahead.
The real battle was just beginning.
---
The stench of blood, smoke, and burnt flesh hung thick in the air. The massive carcass of the rhinoceros monster lay half-buried under rubble, its armored hide cracked open where Renji's final strike had pierced deep. The ground was a tapestry of destruction—cratered, burned, and soaked in crimson.
Renji stood at the epicenter, steam rising off his shoulders. His breath came slow, measured, his mutant-enhanced body still trembling from the adrenaline. Around him, his team regrouped, limping back from the battlefield one by one.
Mika Ishida staggered to his side first, blood seeping from a gash on her temple. "Remind me… never to piss off a monster with a horn that big," she muttered, forcing a smirk despite the pain.
Takeshi Mori collapsed beside the beast's leg, his enhanced muscles twitching with post-combat strain. "You nearly got gored back there. You okay?" he grunted, looking up at Mika.
She nodded. "Still breathing."
Yumi Takahashi emerged from the shadows, her eyes scanning the surrounding terrain. "No more hostiles… but we're not alone."
Kaito Nakamura sparked his fists to life in reflex. "More of those rogue bastards?"
"No," Yumi replied, her voice sharpened by caution. "Different energy signature."
Renji narrowed his eyes. "Where?"
Yumi pointed with a bloodied hand toward a stretch of ruined buildings to the east. "There."
They all turned.
Emerging slowly from behind the blackened skeletons of concrete and steel came figures—six of them, dressed in worn combat gear. Their eyes glowed faintly, but unlike the wild, rabid shine of the infected Renji's team had just fought, these eyes were calm. Controlled. A simmering intensity, not chaotic fire.
The group stopped at a distance, making no move to attack. Their leader stepped forward—a tall woman with short silver hair, a long coat fluttering behind her. Her aura was… sharp. Coiled like a blade sheathed just beneath the skin.
Renji shifted forward cautiously. "I don't suppose you're here to pick a fight too?"
The woman smiled faintly. "If we were, you'd already know."
The two sides held still—coiled tension like a wire stretched to the limit.
Renji's gaze swept over them. They looked infected. That much was obvious. Their skin tone carried the faint unnatural pallor. Their presence—mutated, but not unstable. It was as if they had mastered the very thing that had driven others mad.
"Who are you?" Renji asked, eyes still wary.
The woman glanced at her companions before replying, "We're like you… survivors. But unlike most of the infected, we didn't lose our minds."
"Lucky you," Mika muttered behind Renji.
"We learned control," the woman continued. "We've been watching you fight. You're stronger than most. That beast would've leveled entire districts if it got loose."
Renji's jaw tightened. "Then why the hell didn't you step in?"
"We wanted to see what you were capable of," she replied coolly. "You're not just infected. You're evolving. Faster than anyone we've encountered before."
Yumi's voice came low and sharp. "That doesn't sound like a compliment."
"It wasn't," another of the newcomers said—a tall man with cybernetic arms sparking faintly. "It's a warning."
Takeshi grunted, rolling his shoulders. "You guys always this cryptic, or is it just a side effect of being half-monster?"
The silver-haired woman raised a hand to calm her group. "We're not your enemies. But we're not allies yet, either. Let's just say… we're interested. In what you are. In what you might become."
"And what's that?" Renji asked, his tone heavy with skepticism.
She stepped closer now, her gaze meeting his without flinching. "A catalyst. You're changing the rules of infection. Breaking limits we didn't think were possible. And if you keep going… the world might not be ready for what follows."
There was silence for a long moment. A low wind blew through the wreckage, whistling between ruined walls and scattered debris.
Then, without another word, the group turned. The woman looked over her shoulder.
"You'll find us again. Or we'll find you. When the next gate opens… you'll understand."
They vanished into the mist and smoke, disappearing as quietly as they had appeared.
Renji stood there for several seconds, staring at the void they left behind.
Mika stepped up beside him. "What the hell was that?"
Renji didn't answer immediately. His eyes were distant, calculating. "Another piece of the puzzle."
Yumi's shadows writhed faintly as she spoke. "They weren't lying about us changing. The mutation… it's accelerating."
"And not just ours," Kaito added grimly. "If sane infected are organizing… it means the balance of power is shifting."
Renji clenched his fists. "Then we adapt. Or we die."
Behind them, the sun pierced through a crack in the smog-filled sky, casting light over the battlefield strewn with death and secrets.
A storm was coming. And the world, twisted by dungeons and evolving monsters, was on the brink of a new age.