SSS Rank Skill: MILF Domination Unlocked-Chapter 52: Dungeon Break, The Ash Warden War (12)
Jax limped ahead, shoulder still dragging a bit of gravity with it. Hana kept half a step behind him, shawl dim but twitching like it hadn’t decided we were safe.Spoiler: we weren’t.
"Cathedral’s that way," I said, nodding toward the black spires cutting through the rain.
"Yeah i changed my mind," Jax grunted, "There’s an outpost a block north. If it’s still standing, it’ll have med kits and maybe some food. We could use both."
I wanted to say we don’t have time. I wanted to sound heroic. What came out was:"Fine. But if I see another brass bastard, I’m quitting hunting and selling socks."
Hana gave me a side-eye through the mist. "You’d still find a way to almost die doing it."
"Occupational hazard," I said.
We moved. The rain turned thicker, stickier. It hit the cooling metal behind us and hissed like it disapproved of our optimism. The streetlights buzzed half-dead, reflecting on puddles that still carried chunks of the Butcher’s armor.
Every step sounded too loud. Jax’s armor clanked like guilt, Hana’s breathing rasped through the shawl filter, and my ribs kept reminding me that Regeneration didn’t erase memory—just evidence.
[Absolute Regeneration Cooldown: 00:00 → Restored.]
Yeah. Thanks for the reminder.
By the time we reached the checkpoint, the river’s glow had dimmed to ordinary dirty water. The outpost wasn’t much—two tents, a half-burned generator, and a Guild flag hanging like it wanted to retire early.
I kicked a casing aside and leaned against the wall that used to be a customs booth. The stone was warm.
Hana crouched beside the broken power node, studying it like a wound instead of a machine. The barrier grid cables sparked weakly, one thread already fused black.
She didn’t touch it — she never does with tech. Instead, she let a few strands of her shawl drift forward, the filaments catching the static and humming faintly blue. The light didn’t power the node; it calmed it, like a hand on a shaking chest.
The hum leveled out. Weak, but steady.
"How’s it looking?" I asked.
"Like it hates everyone," she said. "But it’ll run for a bit."
Jax gave a small nod. "Good enough. The Guild techs can fix it later—if they live that long."
The hum steadied. For a moment, the whole district sounded like it remembered how to breathe.
Jax sat on a crate, testing his knee. The joint popped like a bad joke. "Still attached," he muttered. "Hurts like hell, though."
"Let me," Hana said, and moved over.
She knelt, threads sliding from her sleeves, wrapping around his leg in thin glowing ribbons. The light pulsed—steady, but too dim. I saw the tremor in her hands.
"Hana," I said. "You’re spent."
"I’m fine."
"That’s a lie."
She smiled faintly. "Then it fits the day."
The light flared. Her shawl fluttered, the lotus weave shifting into ragged bloom. She gasped once—pain, not surprise—and the feedback hit her too hard. The threads retracted fast, like burned nerve endings.
"Stop," I said, stepping in.
She didn’t. She forced another surge through, face pale and slick with rain. The light spiked white. Jax hissed and bit it down.
Then the shawl went dead—color gone, glow gone. Hana swayed.
I caught her before she hit the floor.
Her skin was ice. Eyes rolled half-open, lips moving around words that didn’t make it out.
"Idiot," I muttered. "We’re supposed to die in order."
[Warning: Ally neural resonance destabilized.]
[Option: Emergency Regeneration Transfer — Experimental.]
Experimental. Great. Exactly the kind of pop-up you want when someone’s hurt.
"Do it," I said.
[Confirm Transfer?]
[Y/N]
"Yes."
[Absolute Regeneration — Cross-Link Override Initiated.]
[Redirecting metabolic field to external target.]
[Warning: User vitality drain 12% per second during transfer.]
The pain came back like it missed me.
It didn’t burn or cut. It drained. A cold siphon running backward through the veins. My breath stuttered; my vision frosted around the edges. The system’s lines pulsed between us — white threads connecting her chest to my wrist.
[Shared Vital Transfer: Stabilizing...]
Her pulse steadied. The threads softened back to blue. I held her until the tremors stopped.
[Transfer Complete.][User Vitality: 34%. Rest required.][Absolute Regeneration Restored.]
I slumped against the wall and laughed once, quiet and wrong.
Jax stared, jaw tight. "You can heal now?"
"I can fix other people if I feel like dying while doing it," I said. "Doesn’t count."
He didn’t blink. "You said you awakened a forge skill. That’s what the Guild record shows."
"Yeah. Forge Affinity. A-Rank. Good for soldering and bad ideas."
He shook his head. "Bullshit. You stitched her back together like a top-tier medic. And that teleport trick still freaks me out. No forge does that."
"Gear interface," I said, straight-faced. "Darkharness has emergency recall nodes built in. Prototype work. Totally safe."
Jax squinted, reading every word like he was filing it for later. "You expect me to believe that?"
"Please don’t," I said. "Makes it less awkward."
The silence after stretched until Hana stirred. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused.
"Is Jax’s knee fixed?" she rasped.
"For now," I said.
Her gaze flicked to my wrist, then my face. "You used a skill on me."
"Don’t flatter yourself," I said. "You were bleeding on my coat."
She tried to smile. "Thank you."
"Don’t. It’s got a cooldown and a hangover."
The System chimed, monotone as ever.
[New Sub-Function Registered — Cross-Link (Passive)]
Effect: Allows temporary external application of Absolute Regeneration on bonded allies
(HP drain: 10%/s)
Cooldown: 12 hours.
"Perfect," I muttered. "Now it’s official."
Jax folded his arms. "Whatever that was, you better keep it quiet. The Guild sees that kind of healing, they’ll start testing you like a lab rat."
"Noted," I said. "Let’s just say I tinker good."
He didn’t answer, but his frown said we’re not done with this conversation.
We stayed there a while. Rain tapped soft on the awning, tired but steady. Down the canal, the power grid’s hum evened out — like Arcadia had finally decided to breathe again. One lung left, but breathing.
Then Darius’s voice cut through the comm rune on my wrist. Static first, then command.
"Cross, report."
I raised my arm. "Butcher’s down. Canal grid stable. Minimal survivors, no active hostiles."
"Confirmed," Darius said. "You three just reactivated half the city’s barrier lattice. Good work."
"Accidental genius," I said.
"You’ve earned this. As of now, you’re officially registered as an independent A-Rank combat unit. Designation: Crossworks-01."
Jax let out a short, dry laugh. "Guess that makes it official."
"Don’t make it a brand," I said.
"Too late," Darius replied. "People need something to believe in. You’re it."
"Tragic mistake," I muttered. "We also ran into something weird between the canal and the Cathedral sector."
"Define weird."
"Two human recruiters," I said. "Deathspace insignia. Claimed they were ’here to help.’ Tried to poach us mid-disaster. One bit down on a cyanide capsule before we could question him. The other’s unconscious. We left him zip-tied in a freight office on East Dock Nine."
Silence. Then a low curse. "I knew it. That Deathspace was operating inside the city during an evacuation..." Darius exhaled hard through the comm. "We’ll retrieve the body. Good call not wasting time."
"Didn’t feel like negotiating," I said. "Their manners sucked."
"Noted." His tone hardened. "We’ll treat that as confirmation that someone’s coordinating this mess from inside Arcadia."
"Wouldn’t shock me," I said. "Everything else is."
Jax leaned forward, voice rough. "What’s the next move?"
"The Cathedral sector," Darius said. "You’ll find the second general there — a class-S illusion type. The Grief-Singer. You take it out, then move to the Gate District. The final general’s guarding the breach. If that one falls, the city grid will stabilize."
"And the evac?" I asked.
"Still in progress. With luck, most civilians will be clear before you reach the Gate. Helion’s S-Rank unit is en route, but they’re five hours out."
"Plenty of time to die first," I said.
"Don’t," Darius said flatly. "You’re too damn expensive to replace."
I almost smiled. "Noted. How’s Selene?"
He hesitated, just long enough to matter. "She’s guarding the mayor. City Hall’s still standing. She’ll keep him alive until reinforcements arrive."
"Good," I said. "She’s built for that."
"I’ll tell her you’re still alive," Darius said. "For now. Rest while you can. Cathedral first. Then the Gate. Understood?"
"Copy."
"Good. And Cross—"
"Yeah?"
"Don’t make me regret trusting you."
The com clicked dead. No goodbye. No "stay alive." Just orders wrapped in faith that sounded like a threat.
Hana leaned her head against my shoulder. "Crossworks," she murmured. "It suits us."
"Sounds like unpaid overtime."
"Sounds like survival."
"Same thing," I said softly.
For a while, nothing happened.Then the hum shifted — low, wrong, familiar.The Cathedral was already singing.
[Quest Updated — Defeat the Grief-Singer.][Remaining Generals: 2]
Then the hum came back.
Not from the canal this time. From inside the city. From inside me.
Soft, almost melodic — like the same note I’d heard before, the one that had made the pylons cry earlier.
The Grief-Singer.
It wasn’t sound. It was memory pretending to be song. And it didn’t come from across the water.
It came from behind my eyes.
[Warning: Auditory Contamination Detected.]
[Source: Unknown — Emotional Signature Match: Cathedral Sector.]
"Not now," I whispered.
The System didn’t answer. But for the first time since the Verge, I thought I heard tone in its silence. Not machine. Not monotone.
Listening.
Watching.
Like it was learning me the way I’d learned it.
I opened my eyes to the skyline — black towers outlined by orange flame, smoke ribbons fading into rain clouds. Arcadia wasn’t dead yet. It just hadn’t decided what living meant anymore.
The wind shifted. Warm, wrong, carrying the faintest breath of music.
we march to the Cathedral.
And maybe never come back.
