Chapter 94: Summoners, Not Like Pascoloid

Chapter 94: Summoners, Not Like Pascoloid [mass release 3/5] Silver walked down the halls of the Military building meant strictly for staff, her boots echoing against the polished floor as she moved with purpose toward the male sector of the complex. It was the time of the festival, and for once, she had taken a break from the infirmary. With the academy in celebratory mode, she hadn’t expected any casualties or emergencies. Still, precaution had been taken. Capable personnel had already been assigned to handle any surprise injuries that might arise during the events. She soon arrived at the room she intended to visit, pausing for a breath before knocking a few times on the sturdy door. Within seconds, a set of footsteps approached, and the door swung open. Standing at the threshold was Sergeant Lloyd, bare-chested, revealing a sculpted and muscular torso that glistened slightly with perspiration—clearly fresh from a workout or training. His well-defined physique was enough to take anyone aback. "Hey Silver, wasn’t expecting you here. Why don’t you come in," he said casually, stepping aside and gesturing for her to enter. Silver hesitated, frozen in place for a moment. Her eyes darted instinctively over his exposed body, and it took all her restraint not to visibly react. This was the first time she had ever seen him without his shirt on, and also the first time she had been invited into a male staff member’s quarters. Unfamiliar and intrusive thoughts started to creep into her mind as she stepped inside, trying hard to suppress them. But her momentary fluster ended abruptly. She wasn’t alone with him. "Professor Goldrics," she muttered, surprised, her eyes falling on the elderly professor seated on one of the several couches in the room, sipping tea elegantly from a ceramic cup that looked almost out of place amidst the otherwise militant décor. Goldrics raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You came here for him? I should be going, I don’t want to get in the way of your relationship," he said with a sly smirk, mischief lacing every word. His comment hit them both like a whip. Silver’s face flushed bright red. "Hey, sit down you old fart! Who told you I have any interest in him! I just came to relay information—nothing more!" she snapped, her voice rising in embarrassment and irritation. Her words left Lloyd momentarily stunned, his mouth slightly agape. He didn’t reply. He simply walked over and sat opposite Goldrics, scratching his head with visible confusion. Silver followed slowly, folding her arms in annoyance as she lowered herself onto the couch, her entire face still painted with shades of red—from fury, not flattery. Her glare made it clear: she was disgusted by the teasing assumptions. Goldrics chuckled heartily. "Oh my, you haters these days..." he said, his laughter echoing through the room with the satisfaction of an old man who lived to provoke reactions. Once he finally settled, Lloyd leaned forward, his earlier unease replaced by mild concern. "Tell me... what are you here for?" Silver paused, eyes narrowing slightly as her thoughts gathered. "The bone piece you gave me... I lost it." Lloyd shot up. "You lost what!?" "I didn’t mean to! I left it in my private office, and when I went back to check on it—it was gone!" she defended quickly, her voice trembling between guilt and frustration. "I don’t know who would’ve broken into a Sergeant’s office to take something like that." Lloyd clenched his jaw, biting his lip slightly. That bone piece had been his only lead—his single thread of hope to uncover deeper truths. And now it was gone. The weight of disappointment crushed his thoughts. He didn’t even want to look at her. Instead, he frowned and turned his head slightly. "This is just like you," he muttered. "You don’t change... nasty girl." Silver flared up. "How dare you call me annoying! Don’t think it’s those old times—I’ve gotten stronger than you, you blockhead!" Lloyd smirked. As usual, her temper was quick to ignite, and provoking her was always his strange way of making her reflect on her mistakes. He didn’t deny her strength, but her pride... that was another matter. Goldrics cleared his throat and spoke up, his tone suddenly more serious. "There’s no need to argue. If you’re talking about what happened on Pascoloid, let me share something that might help... just a little." Both Silver and Lloyd quieted, their attention focused fully on the old man. "But," Goldrics warned, "don’t think for a second it’ll lead you to answers. The higher-ups have buried this for a reason." A brief silence fell between them, both considering the gravity of his words. "The incident on Pascoloid has happened before. It’s a repeating tragedy. A secret... one only the highest command is aware of. They called it—let me remember—Project Dark Wing." --- Elsewhere, in a desolate and lifeless expanse of land, a sudden flicker of blue light shimmered in the air. It grew rapidly, expanding into a human-sized square—a portal forged of raw, unstable energy. From within this glowing gateway, four men emerged one by one, stepping out with grim expressions and unwavering resolve. On their right arms were marks—glowing tattoos etched deep into their skin, pulsing faintly. They were not just any soldiers. These were Master-Ranked Summoners. Each of them donned the uniform of the military. But not from Titanfang. Their allegiance lay with another base entirely. The first among them, clearly the leader, touched his earpiece and spoke firmly, "Project Dark Wing 2 begins now." His voice wasn’t only for the ears of his team—it was for the one who had sent them. The portal they had used was a compact teleporter, capable of only one trip for four people. It burned out instantly after use, disappearing into particles. But they had brought another for extraction. The leader walked briskly toward the main structure ahead. It was the military base on Pascoloid—the original portal room. From the outside, everything looked intact. No breaches, no signs of struggle. But as he typed in the passcode and the door slid open... their eyes met devastation. The interior was rubble. Walls had been shredded. Ceilings had collapsed. The entire base looked like it had been mauled—ravaged by forces far beyond natural. The team stared in silent horror. Scorch marks, gashes, deep claw lines—they painted a violent story. Something had torn through this place looking for something... or someone. One of the soldiers spoke, almost whispering, "Whatever these creatures are... they’re after something. Or someone?" None of them responded, but the weight of truth lingered unspoken. They explored the ruins methodically, stepping over twisted metal, shattered glass, and remnants of what was once an elite facility. When they reached the gate to the outside, they didn’t need to open it. A massive hole had already been torn through it. Something had forced its way in. The leader gave another report back to HQ, then signaled the team to move out through the breach. As they stepped into the world outside, the sight that welcomed them was unrecognizable. His mouth fell open. "This... this isn’t the Pascoloid from the reports." The sky was grey—sunlight filtered through clouds like dying embers. The once-verdant forest was now dark, twisted, its trees exuding a sinister, black vapor. The very soil beneath their boots was pale and ashen—bleached of life. Whatever catastrophe had occurred... it hadn’t just affected the creatures. It had corrupted the entire planet.