Ruined city of Berlin.
The roar of rotor blades cut through the cold night air as the helicopter soared across the shattered skyline of Berlin. The moon hung high pale and indifferent casting silver light across the ruined city below, where once-proud towers now lay in heaps of scorched concrete and rusted steel.
Inside the bird, two agents of Aegis Caeli sat in silence.
Isaac Riess cradled his SKS rifle against his chest, his gloved fingers steady on the worn wood of the stock. His eyes were calm, but focused tracking the horizon beyond the open bay door. Across from him, Leon Selner sat with his arms crossed, twin M1911 pistols holstered at his hips. His posture was relaxed, almost casual, but Isaac knew that meant he was sharpening his nerves, not dulling them.
Both wore the standard aegis Caeli great coat, Uniforms underneath, Lietorbs glowing faintly at their necks like dying embers waiting to be reignited.
The silence in the cabin wasn't tense for the agents but for the pilot, it was suffocating.
He cleared his throat, trying to ease the weight in the air. "So, uh... dangerous mission, huh?"
No answer.
Isaac remained still, eyes scanning the horizon through the open side hatch. Leon leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
The pilot chuckled nervously. "I mean, that manor's deep in the dead zone. Not exactly a stroll through the park."
A beat passed.
Then Leon finally spoke, voice calm and flat. "Yeah. Yes, it is."
The pilot exhaled in slight relief at least they weren't mute. "You two are... pretty young for this kind of mission, aren't you?"
Leon's eyes flicked toward him. "I'm nineteen."
The pilot blinked, taken aback.
"You said something about us being 'young'?" Leon added, tone sharpening just enough to shut the conversation down.
For a moment, all the pilot could hear was the hum of the rotors and the low pulse of their Lietorbs.
Then Isaac spoke for the first time.
"We're not here because we're young. We're here because no one else came back."
The pilot said nothing after that.
A few minutes passed in silence again, only the rhythmic thrum of the rotors filling the space.
Then Leon leaned forward slightly. "Hey. You got a cig?"
The pilot blinked. "Pardon?"
"I said— do you have a cigarette with you?"
"Uh... no, I don't."
Leon sighed. "Well, that's a damn shame."
Without a word, Isaac reached into his coat and produced a slim, weathered cigarette box. He opened it with a practiced motion and held it out.
"Here. Have one."
Leon took the stick, holding it between his fingers like a lifeline. "Thanks, Isaac. You always know how to hide the good stuff in that coat of yours."
Isaac gave the faintest smirk. "No problem."
He struck a small match against his boot and lit Leon's cigarette, the flame flickering briefly against the backdrop of the night.
For a moment, all was quiet again. Two young soldiers sharing a cigarette under moonlight, moments before plunging into a hell they might not come back from.
Aegis Caeli Headquarters – Strategic Operations Wing – Central Command Room
Blue light from the tactical display shimmered across cold walls of reinforced steel. In the war room's center, a projection of Berlin hovered above a circular table half-consumed by ghost data and shifting karmic echoes. Two red blips slowly descended toward a ruined district in the city's heart. The operation was in motion.
Standing around the map were several of Aegis Caeli's top brass: Hoheitsträger Melchior and Levant, with Niedriger Schild Emeric nearby each clad in the dark regalia of high command, their badges glinting with polished gravitas.
Melchior's eyes scanned the screen, voice tight. "Is this truly a production site for Karmen-human hybrids? Is that even possible, Hoheitsträger?"
Levant didn't flinch. "One would assume it an impossibility. Ventures of that scale are not early accomplishments. And yet…" He adjusted his gloves. "The evidence retrieved from the ruins karma scans, notes, even barrier residuals suggest otherwise."
"Former aegis Caeli defectors, now roaches burrowing in Berlin's skeleton," Melchior muttered.
"Even good-for-nothing failures can become dangerous," Levant replied. "Especially when they dabble with Karma like it's just chemistry."
Emeric leaned in, eyes narrowing. "And our agents? Isaac and Selner. They're only nineteen. Isn't this a bit much for a two-man team?"
"They volunteered," Melchior said. "Briefed. Prepped. Isaac Riess in particular has shown potential far beyond his years. He'll manage."
A long pause followed as the officers watched the icons drift downward.
Then Levant sighed.
"...Familiars."
Melchior raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"
Levant stepped forward, his voice lowering. "Our intelligence has confirmed a disturbing pattern. Among these rogue scientists is a splinter group focused on paranormal biology specifically the creation of familiars."
He turned to face them fully.
"For clarity familiars are the juvenile forms of Karmens. Half-born. Larval. Not fully sentient, but still monstrous in strength. Their movements are underdeveloped. Their minds... stunted. Think of them as karmic embryos. Dangerous, but predictable in their limitations."
Melchior's gaze hardened. "And what purpose would they serve?"
Levant's tone dropped colder.
"They're spawned. Not born. Created when a Karmen divides its own essence producing these entities. They can act independently. And worse, in rare cases, they can generate small barriers. Given enough time and human consumption, they mature. A Familiar becomes a Karmen."
Emeric paled. "And the hybrids?"
"That's the nightmare," Levant said. "Karmen-human hybrids, if successful, could learn to reproduce familiars intentionally. With human intelligence guiding their evolution, we could be staring down an exponential plague."
He turned to the map. "One becomes two. Two becomes four. Four becomes eight. Then sixteen. Thirty-two. Sixty-four. The math escalates faster than we could contain."
Melchior clenched his jaw. "That manor… it's not just a lab."
Levant nodded grimly. "It's a womb."
The room went still.
Then Melchior stepped back from the table.
"God help those boys," he muttered. "And damn those fools who thought they could tame what lies beyond the veil."
Ruined Berlin – Interior: Blacksite Laboratory, Unknown Depth.
Dim lights flickered overhead. The walls half metal, half flesh-like growth throbbed faintly with residual karmic resonance. Muffled screams echoed through the corridors, layered over the low mechanical hum of machines that had no place in a sane world.
In the center of a surgical theater, a man dangled from rusted suspension hooks. His body, once human, was now a twisted vessel. Pale skin blotched with veins of black and red Karma pulsed unnaturally as if something within him still clawed to get out.
His mouth hung open, jaw slack, as blood trickled from his nostrils, then from his tear ducts. His back arched spasming violently as if he were being shocked. Then he stilled.
The room fell quiet but for the slow drip… drip… drip of blood onto the grated floor.
A man in a white lab coat stepped forward. Not stained, not wrinkled immaculately clean. His gloved hands held a clipboard. He stared at the body with unreadable calm.
"Another failure," he muttered coldly, jotting a note.
Around him stood other researchers some in surgical aprons, others masked entirely. None reacted emotionally. They had seen it too many times.
"Subject 97 showed early karmic fusion but could not stabilize the hybridization. Nervous system collapse within nine minutes of exposure," the head doctor noted. "Cognitive degradation began at minute five. Resulting in violent spasms and internal hemorrhaging."
He looked up at the corpse now little more than a shriveled warning.
"At least this one lasted longer than the others."
Behind him, a tank hissed to life something inside it shifted.
A small humanoid silhouette writhed within the vat's green fluid. Not fully formed. No eyes. Limbs too long. Skin translucent. But it breathed.
The doctor turned, a thin smile creeping across his face.
"But that... that is progress."
Ruined city of Berlin – Above Drop Zone, 5,000 Feet.
The wind howled beyond the rotors. Berlin's corpse sprawled beneath them ashen streets, gutted buildings, and silence thick enough to choke the sky.
"You're five clicks from drop zone," the pilot crackled over comms. "Best of luck down there."
A pause. Then, dryly:
"Oh and try not to break anything on the way down."
Leon smirked as he rose from his seat, arms stretching lazily. "No promises."
With a sudden kick, he knocked the side door open metal groaning in protest as wind roared into the cabin.
"Damn it, Selner!" the pilot barked, but the words were shredded by the gale.
Leon didn't look back. He was already out.
Gone.
Plummeting into the abyss.
Isaac stood, calm as still water. He adjusted his grip on the SKS rifle slung across his chest, gave the pilot a silent nod, and stepped into the void.
For a moment, he fell like a stone.
Then:
Fwoom.
His Lietorb pulsed, casting a sharp yellow glow across his coat and skin. Karma surged outward rippling against the wind like unseen wings. The air bent around him, pressure thickening, slowing his descent until he floated like a feather drifting through moonlight.
Below, the fractured skyline of Berlin lay still ruins stretching for miles, illuminated only by the eerie hum of distant, unnatural electricity.
And there, nestled deep within the wreckage…
A solitary manor pulsed with flickering light, like a heartbeat in a dying body.
Mission Parameters:
Infiltrate.
Eliminate.
Survive.
Operation: Crucible had begun.