Chapter 2: Crimson Bloom

  Lighthouse City greeted me with its signature fog as I left the Stability Processing Center. The coastal air carried the scent of salt, fish, and the underlying metallic tang of dimensional energy that powered everything. My new badge—a simple holographic disk displaying my tier, level, and trait—felt unnaturally heavy against my chest. F-tier. Level 1. DOMAIN ENGINE (CURSED).

  The agents had upgraded my housing in Lower Residential—standard protocol for newly unlocked raiders. I navigated the slick cobblestone streets that transitioned awkwardly between preserved pre-rift architecture and the reinforced modern structures built after the great devastation. Above me, elevated tram lines hummed with energy, carrying raiders and essential workers between districts while keeping them safely above the occasional street-level anomalies.

  Downtown's immense energy field glowed faintly blue against the perpetual gray sky, its geometric patterns shifting subtly as it tried to keep the area rift-free. The field's range ended abruptly at Fourth Harbor Street, where I crossed into Lower Residential. The difference was immediate—dimmer lighting, more cramped, cracked pavement, and warning signs about possible dimensional leaks during storms.

  "Volt?" A voice broke through my thoughts. Dorn, a maintenance worker I'd occasionally traded salvage with, stepped out from an alley. His eyes fixed on my badge, widening slightly.

  I offered a tight smile, uncomfortable with the attention. His eyes never left my badge, hungry with the envy common to blanks. He'd been trying to save for an unlock pass for three years.

  He nodded, but I could see the calculations running behind his eyes—how much an F-tier raider could earn, how security doors would now open automatically, how the Network would finally grant me full access.

  "Let me know if you need a spotter for equipment runs," he called after me as I continued walking.

  Three blocks later, my assigned housing appeared—a utilitarian six-story building with reinforcement struts exposed on the exterior. My unit was exactly what I expected: a single room with basic amenities, a Network terminal, and a wall-mounted status screen reader. Simple, but much better than the housing blanks get.

  The window offered a view of the Port District, where massive cargo ships unloaded under the watchful protection of C-tiers. Beyond them, the perpetual boundary fog marked where Lighthouse City's defensive perimeter ended and the monster-infested waters began.

  Two weeks later, I stood inside a basic simulator chamber at the Raider Training Complex. The white cube room hummed as projected light formed into crude approximations of various monsters. The simulator's limitations were obvious—F-tier training modules were designed for quantity over quality. The Phase Flicker simulation moved in predictable patterns unlike the chaotic reality I'd faced.

  "Fifth sequence complete," the automated voice announced. "Survival probability increased by 4.3% since initial assessment."

  I grimaced. The system couldn't account for my experiences in an actual rift. Its projections were based on standard raid protocols that assumed team support and proper preparation—neither of which I'd had.

  Still, I completed the mandatory training routines. Each day, I worked through simulated encounters until my muscles burned and my newly unlocked mana reserves depleted. Each night, I collapsed into my assigned bed, studying the patterns of monster behaviors on my basic Network terminal.

  I dropped off my loot at the mandatory Stability drop-off terminal. All rift loot went through Stability, who then supplied the crafters. My account balance grew modestly from my clearance rewards, but equipment costs were brutal. A proper weapon would cost nearly everything I had—a luxury I couldn't justify at the moment.

  The Equipment District bustled with raiders of all tiers. Network auction boards displayed scrolling lists of high-tier items while physical shops showcased low-tier premium wares behind energy-shielded displays. I ignored these, heading straight for the discount section of the Stability Outfitting Center.

  "First expedition package?" asked the clerk, a blank with the weary expression of someone who'd seen too many freshly unlocked raiders walk in with dreams and walk out with bare minimums.

  I nodded, selecting only essentials: a standard-issue reinforced jacket, basic utility cutter, and first-aid nanogel. A rack of rejuvenators caught my eye—expensive but potentially life-saving. They were expensive and cost more than an F-tier rift core was worth I only added a single vial to my purchases. These were the only consumables worth buying at F-tier.

  First-Aid Nanogel (F-tier)

  Effect: Recover 100% Health over 60 mins (damage taken will cancel this effect)

  Cooldown: 60 mins

  Rejuvenator (F-tier)

  Effect: Reduces Exhaustion by 50 instantly. Costs 50 Stamina to use.

  Cooldown: 60 mins

  "Any sustain?" the clerk asked.

  "Standard pills," I replied. The synthetic food came in two varieties: status-optimized pills that provided perfect nutritional balance with minimal taste, or expensive recreation of pre-rift cuisine. The choice was obvious for my budget.

  Synthetic Nano-Feed (F-tier)

  Converts rift energy into sustenance for 60 minutes.

  All regeneration effects are reduced by 50% while in effect.

  The green pills went into my new dimensional storage—a modest 10 cubic meter space accessible through my status. The technology felt strange, like reaching into a pocket that existed somewhere else entirely.

  On my way out, I passed Mei, another F-tier raider I recognized from processing. She nodded toward my purchases.

  "Going minimal?" she asked, gesturing to my equipment. "Most new unlocks blow everything on flashy gear."

  "Wasn’t exactly a choice, can’t afford anything flashy anyways," I replied.

  She laughed. "Never is. See you around."

  The Rift Management Center dominated the border between Downtown and the Port District—a massive structure of black glass and energy-conducting alloys. Inside, hundreds of screens displayed rift data: locations, tier assessments, expected durations, and available slots.

  F-tier raid passes were considerably cheaper than unlock passes, but still represented a significant investment for me. There were 10 maximum slots for each rift, on a first come first serve basis. I could buy all 10 slots to go for the solo clear bonus, but I couldn’t afford that. I would be sharing this rift with others. I purchased one F-tier pass at random for 99 credits it was nearly half my remaining savings.

  Around me, raiders formed teams, compared equipment, and discussed strategy. I stood alone, reviewing the available rift data on public terminals.

  "F-14372," the automated system pinged my wrist implant. "Please report to Deployment Gate 7."

  As I walked toward the gate, I felt the weight of my badge, my minimal equipment, and my cursed trait. But I also felt something else—anticipation.

  The Rift Management Center deployment gate hummed with energy as I stepped through. Nine other F-tier raiders followed, each clutching basic equipment with the nervousness of novices. One moment we stood in the sterile departure chamber, the next we were enveloped by thick, crimson-tinted air that immediately pressed against my lungs like wet cotton.

  [F-TIER RIFT CRIMSON BLOOM]

  Base Requirement: Defeat the Bloomweaver Lurker.

  Alternative Path: Use harvested Dimensional Sap Veins to power energy disruptors located in the Scarlet Glade, try disabling the Lurker’s regeneration abilities before engaging.

  "I heard bad things about htis biome," announced a tall raider with expensive augmented goggles. "It’s a real slog."

  I took stock of our surroundings—twisted trees with bark that pulsed like living flesh, paths covered in glowing red moss, and a sky stained the color of fresh blood. This wasn't the shattered Downtown of my first rift. This was something alive, watching, waiting.

  "I'm Kell," said the goggled raider, clearly positioning himself as leader. "Standard F-tier clearance—kill the Bloomweaver Lurker, we have 30 days but I would rather no spend that long this place reeks." His eyes swept over each of us, lingering on my badge. "Standard Crimson Bloom biome. We need to establish pathing through the Crimson Paths first, then reach the Scarlet Glade by day five."

  My new trait’s hazard detection itched at the back of my consciousness, sending strange pulses every time I looked at certain plants.

  "I can detect hazards," I offered, focusing on my trait. It illuminated two massive clouds of crimson mist blocking our path forward. "Bloodspore. Fifteen meters ahead, and again at the fork."

  Kell's expression flickered with surprise, quickly masked by authority. "Good. We'll—"

  "Let's push through," interrupted a heavily-armored woman. "Can't waste time on the first day." Without waiting for consensus, she led four others directly into the mist.

  I watched their reckless charge. The outcome was predictable—all five emerged coughing, their Exhaustion meters must have spiked.

  "I can clear one," I said to the remaining four raiders.

  A short, red-haired woman named Verik nodded. "Do it. I've got vulnerable lungs."

  I focused on the nearest cloud, channeling energy through my DOMAIN ENGINE. The hazard shimmered, then dissolved into harmless particles. Something else happened too—a subtle crack in dimensional stability, invisible to others but glowing bright in my perception. First Fracture Charge accumulated.

  "Nice," muttered Dax, a lanky raider with a basic crossbow. As he squinted down the scope, a faint crackle of energy sparked around the bolt—his TRAJECTORY BOOST trait activating. The shot flew true, punching through a Rift Seedling’s core. A hairline fracture appeared in the air where the bolt passed, sealing itself before anyone but me noticed. "Useful trait. Mine’s just precise shooting that gives everyone migraines."

  We progressed deeper into the crimson forest, the group already splitting into factions—Kell leading his five reckless chargers, while I moved with Verik, Dax, and a silent woman named Linn. Not ideal, but better than my first rift alone.

  "Root trap ahead," I warned, spotting the telltale vibration patterns beneath the crimson moss. Classic predatory root behavior. The others couldn't see it, but I could feel it humming in my bones, my trait highlighting the danger in pulsing outlines visible only to me. "Let me try something." Using Invert Hazard drained ten percent of my mana instantly—a cold, hollow sensation like having a piece of myself scooped out. The price of manipulation. The trap's energy signature inverted, its pattern shifting from a jagged, hostile red to a smooth, beneficial blue in my perception. "Step on them deliberately," I instructed, voice tight with concentration. "Speed boost for ten seconds." Dax grinned, deliberately triggering the inverted trap. His expression changed to shocked delight as the roots propelled him forward instead of ensnaring him. "Now that's cool!" His enthusiasm triggered a nearby cluster of crystalline plants—Rift Seedlings. The crystalline structures pivoted toward his voice, their thorn-like protrusions lashing out, barely missing his leg. Fracture Charge accumulated—one out of three. I felt it like a hairline crack spreading through glass, invisible to others but glowing bright in my perception. The dimensional fabric stretched dangerously where I'd inverted the hazard. "Careful," I warned, my voice sharper than intended. "They drain mana from anyone within three meters." Dax fell back, chastened. He couldn't see what I saw—how the crimson moss was already beginning to regrow over the inverted trap, the dimensional fabric trying to heal the wound I'd torn in it.

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  Monsters swarmed us throughout the day but they were only normal class, as a group we handled them without any issues. By dusk of the first day, both groups had established temporary camps at the edge of the Crimson Paths. Rest halted and reduced our Exhaustion accumulation, our only reprieve from the rift's grinding toll, if it ever reached 100; we would be in serious trouble.

  "They think we're dead weight," Verik whispered, noticing my stare. Her red hair was matted with sweat and Bloodspore residue, making it look like she'd dipped it in the crimson pools we'd been avoiding. "Especially you. Considering your level, you're all trait, no substance." I nodded, unsurprised.

  By day seven, the rift's true nature was revealing itself. We'd reached the Scarlet Glade—a vast clearing dominated by pulsating plants and the constant threat of Harmony Drones, floating orbs that amplified the rift's passive Exhaustion.

  My critical error came during an attempted shortcut. A wall of Toxic Vine Growth blocked a path that would save us hours. I attempted to Amplify Hazard, thinking it would expand the vines' growth in the direction we needed.

  Instead, the vines lashed out with doubled strength, delivering devastating strikes to two raiders in Kell's group. Thirty hit points gone in an instant. My second Fracture Charge accumulated.

  "What the hell was that?" Kell demanded, helping his wounded teammates.

  "Miscalculation," I admitted. The numbers hadn't balanced. The hazard had variables I'd failed to account for.

  Later that day, a collapsed Bloodspore Cloud blocked our retreat from an Elite patrol. My Exhaustion had reached 65, and a Harmony Drone's pulse was imminent. The choice was clear—Consume Hazard. The cloud dissipated as I absorbed its energy, healing twenty-five hit points, unfortunately I forgot about my fracture charges…

  The third Fracture Charge triggered immediately. The feedback loop was instantaneous.

  "Everyone brace yourselves!" I shouted as gravity inverted in a thirty-meter radius.

  Most raiders grabbed onto trees or vines. One didn't react quickly enough—a member of Kell's group. He screamed as he fell upward, then crashed back down when the effect dissipated twenty seconds later. Fifty hit points gone, possibly more.

  Kell's face was a mask of fury as he stabilized his injured comrade. "You're a walking disaster!”

  By day fifteen our supplies dwindled as our Exhaustion accumulated. Kell's group had pushed ahead toward the Bloomheart, while my smaller faction focused on harvesting Dimensional Sap Veins—crucial for disabling the boss's regeneration.

  "We need two more veins," Verik said, her voice raspy from the Bloodspore exposure. "The disruptors won't work otherwise."

  I spotted a vein thirty meters away, guarded by a Crimson Harvester—humanoid and wrapped in blood-red energy. The elite was too powerful for my stats, but the alternative was failure.

  "I'll draw it away," I decided, ignoring the voice screaming in my head.

  Using Create Hazard, I generated a Bloodspore Cloud between myself and the Harvester. The theory was sound—the cloud would slow it while I harvested the vein.

  Reality proved less accommodating. The Harvester phased through the cloud, latching onto my arm with cold, energy-draining fingers. Each touch siphoned two percent of my maximum health, stored for its own regeneration. My hit points dropped rapidly—80, 60, 40.

  I barely escaped with the help of others, stumbling back to our camp with the precious vein clutched in my trembling hand. Yet another Fracture Charge accumulated—the dimensional instability building like pressure behind my eyes. My body screamed for relief, every muscle fiber burning with exertion. I had no choice but to use the single Rejuvenator I'd purchased before deployment.

  The moment I activated it, sweet relief flooded my system. My Exhaustion plummeted from 75 to 25, the suffocating weight lifting from my chest. Unlike Stamina and Mana—resources actively spent on abilities and traits that naturally regenerated—Exhaustion was far more insidious. It accumulated passively the longer you remained in a rift, with countless rift entities possessing abilities that accelerated its buildup.

  At 100 Exhaustion, you'd gain Adrenalin Surge—a powerful but deadly boost making your next ability free to cast. The tradeoff was brutal: you'd start losing 10% of your health every second until you reduced Exhaustion below the threshold. The only ways to reduce it were through specific abilities, traits, consumables and boss kills. It never depleted naturally inside a rift—only when you returned to Earth.

  "Worth it?" Dax asked, his tone dripping with skepticism as he eyed the vein in my hand.

  "No," I replied through clenched teeth, frustration burning in my chest. "But we needed those disruptors."

  On day twenty-one the Bloomheart loomed before us—a massive central grove dominated by writhing roots and the pulsating form of the Bloomweaver Lurker. Due to the crimson haze, it took us way longer to arrive then it should have. Seven raiders remained of our original ten. Two lost to hazards, one to a Harmony Drone ambush. We carefully inspected the Boss class monsters status display, this worked because this monster was already in the Network database, although it was dangerous to take it at face value since there were variants but it was a good start.

  Bloomweaver Lurker - BOSS: Massive Rift Seedling-like entity fused with the grove’s center, controlling roots and vines in the area.

  The Bloomheart pulsed like a diseased organ as we approached, throbbing with sickly crimson light. My Domain Engine trait buzzed inside my skull—a warning signal that made my teeth ache. Not the creature itself that triggered it, but the corrupted ecosystem surrounding it. This whole place was alive, hostile, watching.

  I scanned the area, counting threats. My trait highlighted each hazard with painful clarity. The ceiling dripped with Bloodspore pods—bulbous sacs that would rupture every ninety seconds, releasing clouds of exhaustion-increasing spores. The floor rippled with what looked like roots but moved like predators—Tremor Roots, waiting to trip raiders and drag them into strangling vines. Along the walls, Crimson Veins pulsated, ready to spawn adds when damaged.

  "Focus fire!" Kell shouted, his voice echoing as his team charged forward. His augmented goggles flared with unnatural energy—a temporary boost provided by his PRECISION SCAN trait. The air around his weapon crackled faintly as he struck, leaving behind hairline fractures that sealed themselves moments later. Minor instabilities, harmless alone... until combined with others. The Bloomheart roared as the first attacks hit it, dropping its health to around 90%. The chamber responded immediately. The ceiling pods began to swell, and I could feel the floor vibrating beneath my boots. Phase one had begun.

  "Bloodspore cloud forming!" I shouted, watching the ceiling with calculating eyes. "Tremor network activating!"

  I made a split-second decision, burning 10% of my mana to Negate Hazard on the Bloodspore Canopy directly above our group. The air shimmered as a clean pocket formed. One Fracture Charge accumulated, the dimensional strain settling into my bones like a dull ache.

  Kell's team wasn't so lucky. Three raiders stumbled as Tremor Roots erupted from the ground, vines immediately constricting around their legs. Their screams cut through the chamber's humid air.

  "Don't move!" I yelled, rushing toward them. Another 10% mana burned away as I Inverted Hazard on their section of floor. The grasping roots transformed, their nature reversed—now elastic boost pads instead of deadly traps. The three raiders were catapulted to safety, landing roughly but alive. Two Fracture Charges now. I could feel reality thinning around me, the threat of dimensional backlash hovering at the edge of my perception.

  The Bloomheart shrieked, its health dropping to 75%. Part of the ceiling collapsed, revealing a new terror—Gravity Shear zones. Random five-meter patches where gravity tripled in intensity, crushing anything caught inside. One raider wasn't fast enough. I watched him collapse under his own weight, armor cracking against his ribs. Blood sprayed from his mouth as he tried to crawl free. Phase two hit us hard. The Crimson Veins along the walls split open, spewing Harvester Larvae—thumb-sized parasites with needle teeth that swarmed toward us in undulating waves. The combination of falling Bloodspore and Gravity Shear zones created death traps throughout the chamber. Verik pointed at the approaching larval swarm, his face pale beneath his helmet. "Can you—"

  "On it." I didn't let him finish. One more hazard manipulation and I'd trigger a Fracture, but we needed breathing room. I Created Hazard—a localized Bloodspore Cloud behind the larvae swarm. The infant monsters turned as one, instinctively pursuing the artificial pheromone source into their own trap. Another 10% mana gone. Three Fracture Charges accumulated.

  The dimensional backlash was immediate and violent. Reality fractured around us, the chamber blinking between normal time and frozen states. For sixty seconds, we fought in stop-motion intervals—five seconds of frantic combat followed by five seconds of helpless immobility. The Bloomheart adapted better than we did, its plant-based nervous system less affected by time fractures.

  During one of the frozen periods, I watched helplessly as acid from a Crimson Vein arced toward Linn's face, she barely avoided it. Sorii wasn’t so lucky. When time resumed, her scream tore through me as the liquid burned through her mask.

  By the time the Lurker hit 50% health, the situation was critical. All existing hazards amplified by 300%—Bloodspore clouds now thick enough to choke on, Tremor Roots erupting every few seconds, Gravity Shear zones expanding. The Crimson Veins had evolved, now spewing acidic sap that ate through armor in seconds.

  My mana was low, but I needed to act. I Consumed Hazard from a collapsing Bloodspore cluster, absorbing its energy. Twenty HP restored, and my exhaustion reduced—it was still high enough to make my vision blur at the edges. Worth it for what came next.

  "Dax! The disruptors now!" I gasped through gritted teeth.

  He understood immediately, launching our hard-won Dimensional Sap charges at key points throughout the chamber. The Lurker's regeneration stuttered as the charges detonated, the Scarlet Glade's energy matrix destabilizing at its roots.

  At 25% health, the Bloomheart entered its final desperate phase. A rumbling above signaled the beginning of total ceiling collapse. All environmental hazards became unstable, their effects unpredictable. A Tremor Root grabbed Kell, but instead of constricting, it injected him with something that made him convulse wildly.

  "Volt! Path!" Linn shouted as falling debris trapped half our group against the western wall. With my final 10% mana, I Amplified Hazard on a Tremor Root network, forcing it into overdrive. The roots erupted into a bouncy, elastic pathway that catapulted everyone toward the exit. The chamber collapsed behind us as we stumbled into the adjacent corridor. The Bloomheart died not to our direct attacks, but to its own collapsing ecosystem. I collapsed against the wall. Six raiders entered. Five survived, this run had been a disaster from the get go.

  [RIFT CLEARED: CRIMSON BLOOM]

  SURVIVAL RATE: 50%

  CONTRIBUTION: VOLT (22%)

  F-tier core × 1 = 99 credits

  Crimson Moss 8 units × 12cr = 96cr

  Dimensional Sap 3 vials × 45cr = 135cr

  Bloodspore Essence 5 clusters × 28cr = 140cr

  Harvested Sap Bonus +2 vials × 45cr = 90cr

  TOTAL (Network): 560 cr

  Surprisingly the rewards were less than for my first rift. As we got teleported out of the rift my status screen flashed with updates:

  VOLT

  F-TIER (LEVEL 2)

  HP: 30/100

  MP: 20/100

  EXHAUSTION: 85/100

  ATTRIBUTE POINT AVAILABLE: 1

  ABILITY SELECTION AVAILABLE: 1

  "You're unstable," Kell said as we exited. Not an accusation—an observation. His face was lined with exhaustion, blood crusted at his temple where a Bloom Grasp had caught him. "Those fractures nearly killed us all."

  I considered my response carefully. Denying it would be pointless. "It’s manageable with proper application."

  Kell shook his head, stepping closer. The portal's light cast his face in harsh relief. "Three fractures in one rift. Each one worse than the last. The gravity inversion crushed Tommen's spine. The time dilation left Sorii defenseless." His voice lowered. "Stability Command has protocols for raiders who trigger excessive dimensional degradation."

  "Those have nothing to do with my trait," I countered. "My trait doesn’t cause rifts to break faster.”

  "Volt saved your ass twice," Dax interjected, limping toward us. His crossbow hung broken at his side.

  Kell's jaw tightened. "I'm not saying he's useless. I'm saying he's dangerous. There's a difference."

  Verik stepped between us, her small frame somehow filling the space. She touched my shoulder, the gesture unexpected.

  "You helped us more than you endangered us," Her eyes met mine directly. "The warning about the Crimson Harvester nest prevented a total wipe."

  "Twenty-two percent contribution from a Level 1 with no combat stats," Linn added quietly from where she sat bandaging her arm. "The math speaks for itself."

  Kell studied me for a long moment. "Just understand something, Volt. Random F-tier teams can't afford unpredictability. Next time enter with a corpo premade that can work around your trait.”

  "You have your first ability selection coming up. Consider picking a stabilization technique," Verik added, her hand still on my shoulder.

  As we exited the Rift Management Center, Kell stopped once more.

  "One more thing," he said, voice low enough that only I could hear. "Those fractures didn't just affect space-time. They affected you too. Your eyes..." He hesitated. "They were weird. Might want to get that checked at Stability HQ with a higher tier."

  I nodded, filing away his comment. I don’t want to deal with it at the moment some possibilities were better left unexamined until more were known.

  As we exited the rift, I thought about what to invest my attribute point in. I was thinking speed would be my next attribute point—not Force, despite conventional wisdom. Movement efficiency would compensate for my limitations more effectively.

  The Crimson Bloom taught me something my first rift hadn't: survival isn't always solitary. Currently my trait was a liability without proper coordination. I wanted to go solo again, I felt that was my true path forward, but first I had an ability to select.