"This is suicide," Urgan growled, adjusting the detection device strapped to his massive forearm. The orc's ash-gray skin looked almost blue under the dim light of the transport vehicle. "Splitting up to cover more ground? Have you forgotten what happened last time we separated?"

  Filu glanced at the twins, who were pretending not to hear the conversation. Rakk was polishing his oversized cleaver while Vraza examined her nails with exaggerated nonchalance.

  "The situation demands it," Filu replied, checking her staff's enchantments one final time. "Seven devices, five of us, and less than six hours until activation. Mathematics dictates our approach."

  They'd spent the morning analyzing the intelligence gathered from their warehouse raid. R&D had worked through the night to develop specialized tracking equipment calibrated to detect the unique dimensional signature of the Pinpoint Rift devices. According to their briefing, each tracker had a range of approximately two hundred meters—sufficient for targeted searches but useless for citywide scanning.

  "I'm not questioning the need," Urgan insisted. "I'm questioning the team composition. Sending the twins off with Skitters is asking for trouble."

  The goblin sniper, perched atop a supply crate, grinned wickedly. "Maybe trouble what we need! Sneaky-sneaky find bombs, twins go smash-smash if guards show up!"

  "No smashing unless absolutely necessary," Filu reminded them firmly. "These are precision extraction operations. We locate the devices, disable them using the containment fields provided by R&D, and withdraw without detection."

  The transport slowed as it approached their first drop point—Avalon's commercial district, a sprawling maze of shops, restaurants, and entertainment venues. Even at this early hour, the area bustled with activity as businesses prepared for the day ahead.

  "Tracker shows elevated readings already," Filu noted, studying the device's display. "One of the Pinpoint Rifts is definitely in this sector."

  "Makes sense," Urgan said grimly. "Maximum casualties if it activates in a populated area."

  Filu nodded. "You and I will handle this location. The twins and Skitters will continue to the infrastructure target—Avalon's primary water purification facility."

  As the transport stopped, Filu addressed the full squad one last time. "Remember your training. These devices are dangerous on multiple levels—physically, dimensionally, and potentially metaphysically. Do not attempt disarmament without proper containment protocols."

  "We got it, we got it," Rakk said impatiently. "Find shiny doom-ball, put magic bubble around it, bring home."

  "No playing with doom-ball," Vraza added solemnly, then dissolved into high-pitched laughter with her twin.

  Filu suppressed a sigh. "Communications check every thirty minutes. Report any anomalies immediately, no matter how trivial they might seem."

  The squad nodded, even the twins momentarily serious.

  "Good hunting," Filu said, stepping out of the transport with Urgan close behind.

  As the vehicle pulled away with the remaining squad members, Filu turned her attention to the commercial district spread before them.

  The street was lined with shops of every description—from elegant boutiques selling interdimensional fashions to practical establishments offering everyday necessities. Beings from a dozen different realms moved among them, shopping, conversing, living their lives in blissful ignorance of the threat hanging over them.

  "Where do we start?" Urgan asked, activating his tracker.

  Filu closed her eyes briefly, extending her magical senses. The background magic of Avalon was chaotic here—thousands of minor enchantments, protective wards, and magical advertisements creating a disorienting tapestry of energy. But beneath it all, she detected something discordant.

  "This way," she said, pointing toward a large open plaza at the center of the district. "I sense a disturbance in the ambient magical field."

  They moved through the morning crowds, Urgan's imposing presence naturally clearing a path before them. Despite his size, the orc moved with surprising grace, his training overcoming his natural bulk.

  Filu walked beside him, her staff disguised as an ordinary walking stick, though the runes tattooed on her arms remained visible—exotic enough to draw curious glances but not uncommon in a city as diverse as Avalon.

  The central plaza housed an elaborate fountain where water danced in mathematically impossible patterns, defying gravity and conventional fluid dynamics. Around it clustered outdoor cafés and performance spaces, already filling with patrons enjoying breakfast under the morning sun.

  "Tracker signal is strengthening," Urgan reported quietly. "Within one hundred meters now."

  Filu nodded, her own magical senses confirming his reading. The wrongness was stronger here, a subtle distortion in reality's fabric that made her horns ache dully.

  "There," she murmured, indicating a maintenance building at the plaza's edge. "The dimensional signature is emanating from within that structure."

  They approached casually, maintaining the appearance of ordinary visitors. The maintenance building was a modest structure of gray stone, its entrance secured by a simple electronic lock. A sign declared "Authorized Personnel Only" in several languages.

  "Stand guard," Filu instructed Urgan. "I'll handle the lock."

  While the orc positioned himself to block casual observation, Filu placed her palm against the lock. She whispered words in an ancient tongue, the tattoos on her arm glowing faintly as magic flowed through them. The lock clicked open with minimal resistance.

  Inside, the building housed the mechanical systems that operated the plaza's fountains and lighting. Pipes ran along the ceiling, while control panels lined the walls. At first glance, nothing seemed amiss—just the ordinary infrastructure of a public space.

  But their trackers told a different story, both devices now pulsing with urgent signals.

  "It's here, but where?" Urgan muttered, scanning the room.

  Filu extended her senses again, more focused this time. "Below us."

  A service hatch in the floor led to a maintenance tunnel beneath the plaza. Urgan lifted it easily, revealing a ladder descending into dimly lit depths. The tracker signal intensified dramatically.

  "I'll go first," Filu decided. "Be ready if we encounter resistance."

  She descended the ladder, her staff now gripped firmly in one hand, its disguise dropped to reveal its true nature as a magical focus. The tunnel below was narrow but tall enough for them to stand upright, lined with more pipes and conduits that served the plaza above.

  The air grew colder as they advanced, an unnatural chill that had nothing to do with ambient temperature. Filu's breath began to fog before her face, and the tracker on her wrist buzzed incessantly.

  They rounded a corner and stopped abruptly.

  In a small chamber formed by the junction of several tunnels, a group of robed figures stood in a circle around a pedestal. Upon it rested a Pinpoint Rift device, identical to the one they'd recovered from the warehouse.

  But unlike that inactive prototype, this one was clearly operational—its surface shifting through impossible colors while the void at its center seemed to pulse with hungry anticipation.

  Five Resurgents surrounded it, their robes adorned with celestial symbols. They were chanting in low voices, their hands raised toward the device in supplication or control—Filu couldn't tell which.

  "We can't wait," she whispered to Urgan. "They're activating it early."

  The orc nodded grimly, unslinging his shield from his back. "Direct approach?"

  "No choice. Containment is the priority."

  Filu raised her staff, channeling magical energy through the darkwood length. The runes along her arms ignited with crimson light as she stepped into the chamber's entrance.

  "Step away from the device," she commanded, her voice amplified by magical resonance. "By authority of the Tower, this operation is terminated."

  The Resurgents spun toward them, expressions shifting from shock to fury. The leader—a tall woman with steel-gray hair and burning eyes—raised her hand toward them.

  "Intruders!" she shouted. "Protect the purifier!"

  Two Resurgents drew weapons—sleek pistols that hummed with energy—while the others continued their chant, now more urgent than before.

  "Subdue only," Filu reminded Urgan as the orc moved to engage.

  The first shots from the Resurgents' weapons discharged not bullets but compressed pulses of dimensional energy. Urgan's shield expanded to its full size, intercepting the blasts with a sound like tearing fabric. Each impact left momentary distortions in the air, reality briefly warping before resolving itself.

  Filu countered with a spell of her own, sweeping her staff in a precise arc that released a wave of binding energy. One Resurgent was caught in the effect, magical chains materializing around his limbs, immobilizing him instantly.

  The second gunman adjusted his aim, firing at Filu directly. She dodged sideways, the energy pulse grazing her shoulder with a sensation like ice and fire combined. The wall behind her rippled where the shot hit, stone briefly becoming liquid before solidifying again.

  Urgan charged forward, his shield before him like a battering ram. He slammed into the armed Resurgent with controlled force, pinning the man against the wall without crushing him. A precise strike to the temple, and the Resurgent slumped unconscious.

  Meanwhile, the three remaining cultists continued their ritual, their chanting reaching a fevered pitch. The Pinpoint Rift device responded, its pulsations accelerating. The void at its center seemed to expand slightly, darkness spilling outward like liquid shadow.

  "The activation sequence has begun," Filu called to Urgan. "We need the containment field now!"

  The orc reached into his pack, withdrawing a small pyramidal device—R&D's dimensional containment generator. But before he could activate it, the gray-haired woman turned from the ritual and made a sharp gesture with her hand.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Reality bent around them. The air between Urgan and the Pinpoint Rift solidified into a barrier of shimmering energy, blocking his approach.

  "You will not interfere with the purification," the woman declared, her voice resonating with unnatural power. "Avalon's corruption ends today."

  "You're being manipulated," Filu replied, advancing with her staff raised. "The devices won't purify anything—they're designed to create controlled dimensional pathways for Metcom's exclusive use."

  Doubt flickered across the woman's face—a momentary hesitation Filu immediately exploited. She struck the energy barrier with her staff, channeling a counterspell through the darkwood. The barrier shattered like glass, fragments of distorted space dissipating into nothing.

  "Urgan, now!" Filu shouted, unleashing a binding spell at the remaining cultists.

  The orc lunged forward, dimensional containment device in hand. He slammed it onto the pedestal beside the Pinpoint Rift and activated it with a swift movement.

  The pyramidal device hummed to life, projecting a field of stabilizing energy around the Rift. The void core's pulsations slowed, then stabilized as the containment field fully engaged.

  "Liar!" the gray-haired woman screamed, abandoning her ritual to attack Filu directly. Her hands blazed with dimensional energy as she launched herself forward. "The convergence must end! The unnatural must be purged!"

  Filu met the attack with her staff, the two magical energies colliding in a shower of arcane sparks. The woman was stronger than she appeared, channeling power with practiced skill. This was no amateur cultist but a trained dimensional manipulator.

  "You're Prophet Ysedra," Filu realized, recognizing her from the warehouse encounter. "Leader of the Resurgents."

  "And you serve those who would keep Avalon chained to corruption," Ysedra spat, gathering energy for another attack. "Souls trapped between realms, never finding their true homes."

  Filu faltered momentarily, confusion flickering across her face. Souls trapped between realms? What did the prophet mean by that? Avalon was a convergence point, yes, but its denizens were living beings, not trapped souls.

  She pushed the unsettling thought aside, focusing on the immediate threat.

  "Metcom lied to you," Filu said firmly. "These devices won't separate the realms. They'll create controlled gateways that only Metcom can access."

  "More lies," Ysedra snarled, though uncertainty flickered in her eyes again.

  "Search your feelings," Filu urged. "You've sensed the wrongness in these devices. That's why you expressed concerns to Marcus. The Void Reaches technology is unpredictable, dangerous beyond your understanding."

  The prophet hesitated, her attack momentarily faltering. It was the opening Filu needed. She swept her staff low, releasing a binding spell that caught Ysedra's legs, immobilizing her instantly. A second sweep targeted her arms, magical restraints completing the capture.

  "This is a mistake," Ysedra gasped as she struggled against the bindings. "Without purification, Avalon will continue its unnatural existence, trapping souls in this limbo state!"

  Again, that strange claim about trapped souls. Filu filed the prophet's words away for later consideration—they spoke to a deeper understanding of Avalon's metaphysical structure than the Tower had shared with its Agents.

  Perhaps Zark'thul knew more than he had revealed.

  "If separation is your goal, there are other methods—ones that don't risk catastrophic dimensional collapse or serve corporate interests."

  Urgan had finished securing the device and approached with the contained Pinpoint Rift. "The containment field is stable, but we should transport this to R&D as soon as possible. I don't trust these bindings to hold indefinitely."

  Filu nodded, then activated her commlink. "First device secured. Requesting extraction at the commercial district plaza for transport back to the Tower."

  As she received confirmation, Filu turned back to the captured prophet. "How many devices have been distributed? Where are the others located?"

  Ysedra glared defiantly. "I'll tell you nothing. The purification must—"

  She stopped mid-sentence, her eyes widening as a faint sound reached them—the click of multiple footsteps approaching through the tunnels.

  "We have company," Urgan warned, raising his shield.

  The footsteps grew louder, approaching from multiple directions. Then figures appeared at each tunnel entrance—black-clad operatives in tactical gear, their faces concealed behind advanced helmets. The distinctive red stripe of Argent Shield marked their shoulders.

  "Well, this is unexpected," said a crisp, professional voice. A man stepped forward from among the operatives, his uniform more elaborate than the others. "Prophet Ysedra captured and the device... contained? Impressive work for amateurs."

  The man was tall and lean, with the bearing of a career officer. Though Filu had never seen him before, she recognized his voice from the warehouse conversation.

  "Lieutenant Orwin," she said. "Argent Shield's head of operations."

  The man inclined his head slightly, seemingly amused. "You have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don't know yours—though I recognize your employer's handiwork." He gestured to the contained Rift device. "The Tower's involvement was... unanticipated."

  Ysedra twisted in her magical restraints, shock and betrayal on her face. "Orwin? What is the meaning of this? You should be securing the other purifiers!"

  Orwin smiled thinly. "Change of plans, Prophet. Your usefulness has reached its conclusion."

  He nodded to his operatives, who raised their weapons—not at Filu and Urgan, but at Ysedra and the restrained cultists.

  "Stand down," Filu commanded, stepping between them. "These prisoners are under Tower protection."

  "How noble," Orwin remarked. "But ultimately futile. This operation has too much at stake to leave witnesses."

  Urgan moved to Filu's side, shield raised. "You'll have to go through us first."

  "Easily arranged." Orwin signaled his operatives, who activated their camouflage systems, partially fading from view. "Though I'd prefer to avoid destroying that containment device in the crossfire. Perhaps a trade? The device for your lives?"

  "You don't understand what you're dealing with," Filu warned. "The Void Reaches technology is unstable. Even contained, it presents risks beyond your comprehension."

  Orwin's expression hardened. "Enough talk. Secure the device. Eliminate the witnesses."

  The Argent Shield operatives advanced, their semi-visible forms moving with military precision. Filu raised her staff, channeling defensive energy, while Urgan braced himself for impact.

  The first attacks came from multiple directions—energy weapons firing in coordinated bursts. Filu swept her staff in a wide arc, creating a barrier that deflected the initial volley. Urgan charged the nearest group, his shield absorbing impacts as he plowed into their formation.

  The maintenance chamber erupted into chaos. Filu released a series of rapid-fire spells—binding, disruptive, confusing—targeting the partially cloaked operatives. Her magical senses allowed her to track them despite their technology, though their movements were unnaturally quick.

  An operative materialized beside her, weapon raised. Filu spun, her staff connecting with his helmet with enough force to crack the visor. He staggered back, camouflage flickering, and she followed with a binding spell that immobilized him instantly.

  Across the chamber, Urgan was a juggernaut of controlled violence. His shield swept operatives aside, while precisely measured strikes rendered them unconscious without killing. Despite his bulk, the orc moved with the disciplined economy of a trained soldier, never overextending or exposing himself unnecessarily.

  "The device!" Filu called, spotting two operatives converging on the contained Pinpoint Rift.

  She couldn't reach it in time, so she released a different spell—a repulsion field that sent both operatives flying backward into the tunnel walls. The containment pyramid wobbled but remained active, its field holding steady around the deadly device.

  Orwin himself had drawn a sidearm—an elegant weapon that hummed with dimensional energy. He fired not at Filu or Urgan, but at Ysedra's magical restraints. The bindings shattered under the precise shot, freeing the prophet.

  "What are you doing?" Ysedra demanded, scrambling to her feet.

  "Creating plausible deniability," Orwin replied calmly, before turning his weapon on her.

  Filu acted without thinking, hurling a shield spell across the chamber. It materialized just in time, the dimensional bullet impacting against magical energy instead of Ysedra's flesh.

  "Run!" Filu shouted to the prophet.

  Confusion and betrayal warred on Ysedra's face. Then understanding dawned—she had been a pawn all along. With a final hate-filled glare at Orwin, she fled down one of the side tunnels.

  "Disappointing," Orwin remarked, adjusting his aim toward Filu. "But ultimately irrelevant. The other devices are already placed and preparing for activation."

  Before he could fire, Urgan's shield slammed into him from the side. Orwin rolled with the impact, his military training evident in his recovery, but the interruption gave Filu the opening she needed.

  She reached into a pouch at her belt, withdrawing a small crystal R&D had provided for emergencies. Whispering the activation phrase, she hurled it to the ground at her feet.

  The crystal shattered, releasing a pulse of counterspell energy designed to disrupt technological systems. Throughout the chamber, the Argent Shield operatives' camouflage devices failed simultaneously, rendering them fully visible.

  "Containment and retreat," Filu called to Urgan. "Priority is the device!"

  The orc nodded, fighting his way toward the Pinpoint Rift. He secured it under one arm, shield still raised with the other, and began backing toward Filu's position.

  Orwin barked orders to his remaining operatives, reorganizing their assault now that their stealth advantage was gone. They moved to surround Filu and Urgan, cutting off escape routes.

  "We need an exit," Urgan growled, his back nearly against Filu's now.

  Filu assessed their options rapidly. The tunnels were blocked by operatives, and fighting their way out while protecting the device would be nearly impossible. They needed a diversion.

  Her eyes fell on the pipes running along the ceiling—water mains feeding the plaza's elaborate fountains above. An idea formed.

  "Shield up," she warned Urgan, then raised her staff toward the ceiling.

  The spell she cast was not subtle. Raw elemental force erupted from her staff, striking the pipes with devastating precision. Metal tore open, and pressurized water erupted into the chamber with explosive force.

  The operatives closest to the breach were knocked off their feet by the initial blast. Water quickly began filling the chamber, rising around their ankles within seconds.

  "Up the ladder, now!" Filu commanded, backing toward the entrance they'd used earlier.

  Urgan moved first, the contained device secured against his chest, shield covering his back as he retreated. Filu followed, casting a final spell that froze the rapidly spreading water, encasing several operatives up to their knees in instant ice.

  Orwin raised his weapon for a final shot, but another pipe burst under the continuing water pressure, knocking him sideways. By the time he recovered, Filu and Urgan had reached the ladder.

  They emerged into the maintenance building above, water already beginning to seep through the service hatch. Without pausing, they sealed it behind them and exited into the plaza.

  Outside, confusion had erupted as water began spurting from overloaded drainage systems. Plaza visitors scattered as fountains malfunctioned, spraying water in unpredictable directions.

  "Perfect cover," Urgan observed as they moved through the chaos toward their extraction point.

  Filu activated her commlink again. "Device secured. Situation complicated by Argent Shield intervention. Extraction required immediately."

  As they reached the designated point, a Tower transport descended swiftly, hovering just above the ground. They boarded quickly, the vehicle accelerating away before the doors had fully closed.

  Inside, Filu secured the contained Pinpoint Rift while Urgan kept watch through the windows for pursuit. For the moment, they appeared to have escaped cleanly.

  "One down," Urgan said grimly. "Six to go."

  Filu nodded, her expression troubled. "And Argent Shield knows we're interfering now. They'll increase security on the remaining devices."

  Her commlink chimed with an incoming transmission. She activated it to find Skitters' face filling the small screen, the goblin's expression animated with excitement.

  "Filu! Big problem at water place!" he reported breathlessly. "We find device, but weird things happening! Twins maybe touched what they shouldn't!"

  In the background, Filu could hear what sounded like explosions, followed by Rakk's distinctive cackling laughter.

  "Define 'weird things,'" Filu demanded, dread settling in her stomach.

  "Water moving wrong way! Up instead of down! And little dark spots opening in air, like tiny mouths!" Skitters' image shook violently as something impacted nearby. "Also, guards shooting at us now!"

  Filu exchanged alarmed glances with Urgan. "Send your exact location. We're coming to assist."

  "Hurry! Twins having too much fun, and I running out of bolts!"

  The transmission cut off abruptly. Filu immediately redirected the transport toward the water purification facility, hoping they weren't already too late.

  "So much for the plan," Urgan muttered.

  "Contingencies exist for a reason," Filu replied, checking her staff's enchantments. The battle in the tunnels had depleted her magical reserves significantly, but she had enough for another engagement if necessary.

  As their transport banked sharply, heading toward the far side of the city, Filu mentally prepared for what awaited them. The twins' chaotic tendencies combined with dimensional instability could create unpredictable results—precisely the kind of complication they'd hoped to avoid.

  In her mind, she calculated rapidly: one device secured, potentially a second at the water facility if they could contain it, leaving five still active across Avalon. And now with Argent Shield alerted to their interference, the difficulty would increase exponentially.

  They would need help—perhaps from Squad One or from Zark'thul himself. But for now, their priority was reaching the water facility before the twins' antics triggered a full-scale dimensional incident.

  The transport accelerated to maximum speed, racing against time and chaos.