The Vortex Guild headquarters thrummed with a chaotic pulse, a sprawling fortress of steel and glass nestled in the heart of a neon-lit city. The air buzzed with the faint hum of energy barriers, and the scent of polished metal and ozone hung heavy.
Hadrian Reign stepped through the towering double doors, his boots echoing against the sleek marble floor. The lobby was a whirlwind of activity - espers in tactical gear darted between holographic displays, their voices a low murmur of strategy and urgency. The walls shimmered with embedded runes, pulsing faintly with arcane energy, casting a soft blue glow across the room. It felt alive, almost oppressive, like the building itself was sizing him up.
Mason Hunt, the guild leader, stood near a central console, his broad shoulders squared as he barked orders at a group of lower-ranking espers. His short dark brown hair was slightly tousled, as if he'd run his hands through it one too many times. His emerald green eyes flicked up, catching Hadrian's approach, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips.
He wore a fitted black tactical vest that hugged his athletic frame, the material sleek but scuffed from recent missions. His pants were dark cargo, tucked into sturdy combat boots, and a thin silver chain glinted around his neck, half-hidden by the collar. The shield esper's presence was commanding, his gaze sharp yet not unkind, though there was a calculating edge to it.
"You're Hadrian Reign, yeah?" Mason's voice was deep, carrying over the din. "Not late, but cutting it close. Hope you're ready to jump into the deep end." Before Hadrian could respond, a figure slipped through the crowd with liquid grace - Athena Gardner, her short red hair catching the light like a flicker of flame. Her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned against the console, her rogue-like agility evident in the way she balanced effortlessly on one heel. Her outfit was a blend of function and flair: a cropped leather jacket over a fitted black tank top, revealing a sliver of toned midriff.
Her pants were dark and flexible, hugging her thighs and tapering at the calves, where lightweight boots allowed for swift movement. A single dagger hung at her hip, its hilt wrapped in worn leather. "New guy's got guts showing up here," she teased, her voice light but laced with a challenge. "Let's see if you can keep up, Hadrian." Her smirk was playful, but her eyes lingered, assessing him with a curiosity that felt almost tangible.
Behind her, Nyx LaRue approached more slowly, her long black hair cascading over her shoulders like ink spilling across a page. Her baby blue eyes were soft but guarded, and her presence seemed to calm the frantic energy of the room. She wore a flowing white coat, its hem brushing her thighs, over a pale blue dress that clung to her slender frame. The dress was simple but elegant, with delicate silver stitching that hinted at her healing abilities.
Her boots were soft leather, dyed a matching blue, and a thin silver bracelet adorned her wrist, glinting as she moved. "Don't mind Athena," Nyx said softly, her voice like a breeze. "She's all bark. I'm Nyx. It's... good to have a new guide. We've been stretched thin." Her smile was warm, but there was a flicker of concern in her eyes, as if she sensed the weight Hadrian carried.
Artemis Sheffield loomed nearby, his towering, muscular frame impossible to miss. His short dark hair was damp with sweat, and his red eyes gleamed with a restless energy. He wore a sleeveless black tunic that strained against his broad chest, the fabric frayed at the edges from constant wear. His pants were rugged, reinforced at the knees, and his heavy boots were caked with faint traces of dirt, suggesting he'd just returned from a mission.
A thick leather belt cinched his waist, studded with pouches for supplies. "Hmph," he grunted, crossing his arms. "Hope you're tougher than you look, guide. The last one didn't last a week." His tone was gruff, but there was a subtle shift in his posture—less hostile, more curious—as he studied Hadrian.
Leo Harten leaned against a nearby wall, his long blond hair tied loosely back, strands falling into his grey eyes. His lean frame was draped in a loose grey shirt, unbuttoned at the collar to reveal a glimpse of a silver pendant. His pants were dark and tailored, paired with sleek boots that looked more suited for a stage than a battlefield.
His illusionist nature showed in the way he seemed to flicker at the edges, as if not entirely present. "Well, well," Leo drawled, his voice smooth and teasing. "Our new guide's got everyone buzzing. Let's hope you're as interesting as you seem, Hadrian." His smile was enigmatic, but his gaze was sharp, like he was already weaving illusions to test Hadrian's perception.
Mason clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, enough gawking. Hadrian, you're with us now. Vortex doesn't do easy, and we're in the middle of a shitstorm. Nora System's been acting up, spitting out weird data, and we've got a mission tonight. You're gonna guide us through it. No pressure." His smirk widened, but there was a flicker of respect in his eyes, as if he sensed Hadrian's hidden strength.
The others exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of curiosity and cautious optimism. Athena's fingers twitched toward her dagger, Nyx's hands clasped tightly, Artemis cracked his knuckles, and Leo's smile grew just a fraction wider. Hadrian smiles softly at Mason before giving a playful salute, "Sounds like a plan."
A sharp grin split Mason's face at Hadrian's silent agreement. "Good. No time to waste then." He turned on his heel, gesturing with a decisive sweep of his arm. "Briefing room, now. We hit the ground in thirty."