Chapter Text
With one final, earth-shattering jolt, the Jeep slid to a halt at their destination, the tires screeching against the hard, contaminated earth of the wasteland. The engine let out a shuddering hiss as Enjin finally turned the key, leaving a massive, swirling cloud of thick gray dust to slowly settle around the vehicle.
Almost instantly, the front and middle doors flew open.
Enjin stepped out first, looking completely refreshed, as if he had just finished a pleasant morning drive. Before his boots even hit the toxic soil, he had already smoothly pulled his heavy, structured gas mask over his face, securing the straps with a practiced, seamless twist of his wrist. Right behind him, Zanka and Riyo stepped out onto the rocky ground, their movements synchronized and effortless. Both of them already had their masks securely fastened, their breathing rhythmic and steady behind the filters.
Zanka immediately reached back, pulling his Lovely Staff smoothly from his back and planting it firmly against the ground, his sharp blue eyes already scanning the horizon. Rudo practically hopped out right after them, snapping his own mask into place over his messy white hair with an aggressive, practiced click before crossing his arms, looking completely unfazed by the toxic, heavy air around them.
The four Cleaners stood in a unified, effortless line outside the vehicle, completely ready for deployment, their protective gear perfectly sealed.
Inside the Jeep, however, was an entirely different story.
The heavy silence of the stopped vehicle was filled with the sound of desperate, ragged wheezing and pathetic groans. The four members of the Hell Guard were a complete, undignified mess, their elite composure entirely shattered.
Barris was slumped heavily against the back of Enjin’s seat, his face a pale, sickly shade of green as he desperately clutched his stomach, his hands trembling so violently he could barely thread the straps of his gas mask over his ears. Next to him, Vane was practically folded in half, his head resting between his knees as he let out dry, pathetic heaves, completely incapacitated by the whiplash. He had managed to get his mask onto his face, but it was entirely crooked, the bottom seal flapping uselessly against his jaw and letting the toxic wasteland air slip right in, causing him to choke and cough miserably.
In the very back, Mina was frantically trying to untangle her blue-black hair from the straps of her mask, her fingers fumbling blindly in her panicked rush to put it on correctly, while Kira sat leaning against the window panel, her ponytail completely undone and messy, breathing heavily through an unsealed filter as she tried to force her trembling hands to cooperate.
Outside, Rudo turned around, looking through the open doors of the Jeep at the pathetic display. Even behind his mask, the mocking, bratty tilt of his head spoke volumes as he pointedly stared at Barris’s crooked gear. Riyo let out a muffled, amused snort through her respirator, resting her hands on her hips as she enjoyed the absolute karma unfolding in the backseat.
Enjin took a long breath through his mask, his golden eyes gleaming with silent amusement as he crossed his massive arms over his chest. He didn't even look back at the struggling soldiers, his attention turning toward the dusty trail behind them.
"Get your gear sorted out back there, elites," Enjin’s deep voice echoed through his mask's vocalizer, carrying a firm, unbothered weight. "Gris and the others are just pulling up."
Right on cue, the low, steady hum of the second Jeep echoed through the haze, approaching at a completely normal, safe, and civilized speed. Zanka adjusted his grip on his blue staff, his stoic posture radiating an unyielding, protective strength as they waited for the blessed group to finally arrive and join them on the solid ground.
The second Jeep pulled up smoothly alongside them, braking with a gentle, civilized deceleration that didn’t kick up even half the dirt Enjin had. Gris turned off the ignition, and almost immediately, the doors popped open. Tomme, Follo, and Guita stepped out into the desolate wasteland, their gas masks already securely fastened over their faces with the effortless precision of seasoned Cleaners.
Gris stepped down from the driver's side, his eyes scanning the perimeter before locking onto Enjin's group. "Area looks clear so far," Gris’s voice muffled slightly through his respirator, though his gaze quickly drifted past Enjin to look inside the first Jeep. He blinked at the tragic sight. "Are... they alright?"
Inside the vehicle, Barris was currently letting out a muffled, strangled wheeze as he finally managed to buckle his mask, though the strap was caught awkwardly over his ear, pulling it down at an uncomfortable angle. Vane was still feebly tapping at his crooked respirator, trying to adjust the valve with trembling, uncoordinated fingers, while Mina and Kira were just beginning to stumble out of the back doors, looking like they had survived a high-speed crash rather than a standard deployment drive.
"They're just taking a moment to appreciate the scenery, Gris," Enjin chuckled deep in his chest, the vocalizer of his mask humming with pure, unadulterated fatherly amusement.
Rudo let out a sharp, mocking snort through his filter, his ruby eyes fixed on Barris as the brown-haired Alpha finally stumbled out of the Jeep, leaning heavily against the rusted chassis for support. "Hey, elite," Rudo taunted, his voice muffled but dripping with bratty satisfaction. "Your mask is on sideways. Want me to fetch you or are you going to throw up first?"
"Shut up, you little rat," Barris hissed back, his voice crackling weakly through his respirator as he tried to stand up straight and regain some semblance of his prideful, sycophantic posture. He quickly adjusted his strap, glaring at Zanka, who was still standing completely still and stoic, ignoring him entirely. "We are elite soldiers of the Hell Guard. A bumpy ride means nothing to us."
"Clearly," Riyo chimed in, her green eyes crinkling with absolute joy as she watched Mina try to inconspicuously copy her hand-on-hip stance, despite the fact that Mina's knees were still visibly shaking from the adrenaline.
Guita bounced over from Gris's Jeep, her gas mask fitting perfectly over her face, her fourteen-year-old energy completely unfazed by the toxic atmosphere. She landed right next to Riyo and Rudo, her bright eyes shifting from the miserable Hell Guards back to Zanka. "Wow, they look really pale! Did Enjin take the Trash-Dune shortcut again?"
"He did," Zanka answered smoothly, his deep, calm voice carrying clearly through his mask. He shifted his grip on his Lovely Staff, planting the base firmly into the cracked, contaminated soil. He deliberately stepped closer to Rudo and Guita, his wood and incense pheromones filtering out in a controlled, steady wave—subtly asserting a protective, grounding boundary around the pup's "but we have a perimeter to secure. Let's not waste any more time."
"Zanka's right," Enjin then said, his lazy demeanor instantly vanishing as his imposing, commanding presence took over. His golden eyes locked onto the four recovered soldiers, his heavy aura settling over the entire squad like a physical weight. "Barris, Vane, Mina, Kira—fall in behind Tomme. You four are staying right with her to observe, analyze, and document every single detail for the final report to your commanders. You only have the arms of the Hell Guards to fight, which means you don't have Jinkis to kill trash beasts, so your only job is to stay back and keep your eyes on the data."
Barris blinked behind his visor, his smug, bootlicking expression faltering as he realized he was being relegated to the clipboard squad. "Wait, Captain Enjin? With all due respect, we are elite members of the Hell Guard! Even without Jinkis, our hand-to-hand combat and tactical training are—"
"Utterly useless against a trash beast, Barris," Rudo interrupted with a sharp, muffled snort through his filter, crossing his arms tightly as he leaned back against Zanka's side. "If you try to punch one of those things with your bare hands, you're just delivering yourself as a pre-wrapped snack. Unlike Gris, you don't have the raw, monstrous strength to handle them without a weapon. Stay back with the notebooks where it's safe, elite."
"Why you little—!"
"Enough," Enjin cut him off, a sharp, golden glint in his eyes that instantly silenced the brown-haired Alpha. "Tomme doesn't usually join the direct combat; her job isually is strictly monitoring and taking notes on the operational data. Since you four can't engage the anomalies anyway, you are her security detail and her scribes. Make sure your reports are flawless. Gris and Follo, you two take up the rear guard position as usual. Hold the perimeter line and make sure none of the trash beasts manage to break away or scatter too far from the Givers."
Gris gave a firm, professional nod, adjusting the heavy straps on his gloves. As the only one among them capable of physically overpowering trash beasts with his bare hands due to his colossal strength, his role was vital. He wouldn't be killing them—instead, he would merely trap the beasts, wrestling them down and violently tossing them directly toward the Givers so the frontline team could finish them off with their Jinkis. Follo stepped up beside him, both of them already preparing their positions to lock down the back borders.
Meanwhile, Kira shifted on her feet, her calculating eyes narrowing behind her tinted visor. She looked over at Tomme, who was already pulling out her data book, and realized this put her in a deeply frustrating position. Not only was she completely weaponless against the threats of the wasteland without a Jinki, but standing back with the paperwork meant she wouldn't even be able to closely analyze how the Cleaners channeled their energy into their gear. Mina, completely oblivious to Kira's internal irritation, simply looked over at Tomme and immediately tried to mirror the exact, professional way she was holding her stylus.
"You heard him," Tomme said calmly, her voice echoing clearly through her communicator as she gestured for the weaponless soldiers to line up behind her. "Stay close, keep your eyes open, and let the Givers do the heavy lifting."
Zanka shifted his grip on his Lovely Staff, a quiet wave of satisfaction washing over him. With those four helpless headaches safely confined to the backup squad under Tomme's watchful eye, and Gris and Follo securing the outer perimeter, the front lines were perfectly clear. He deliberately stepped closer to Rudo and Guita, his wood and incense pheromones filtering out in a controlled, steady wave—subtly asserting a protective, grounding boundary.
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The transition from the dusty landing zone into the jagged labyrinth of the ruins was seamless for the experienced Cleaners. The air grew progressively heavier, thick with the stagnant stench of ancient garbage and localized toxic pockets.
As they reached the lip of a massive, bowl-shaped crater filled with shifting mounds of compressed debris, Enjin suddenly called a halt, raising his massive, gloved hand.
"Alright, we're splitting up to cover more ground and flush these things out," Enjin ordered, his voice echoing with a deep, modulated resonance through his gas mask. He turned his golden eyes toward his eldest son. "Zanka, take Riyo and Guita. Move along the high eastern ridge and clear out the nesting grounds up there. Rudo and I will take the lower basin."
Zanka nodded firmly, his blue eyes flashing with a sudden, sharp focus. "Understood. Keep the brat close, Dad," he murmured, his wood and incense pheromones flaring slightly in a final, protective farewell to his younger brother before he turned on his heel. "Riyo, Guita. come with me, we gotta work"
"Yay! High ground!" Guita cheered softly through her respirator, bouncing on her heels before falling perfectly into stride behind Zanka. Riyo offered a playful salute to Enjin and Rudo, shifting her stance as she prepared to deploy her own gear.
From their designated safety zone on a reinforced concrete platform overlooking the entire crater, the weaponless Hell Guards finally had a front-row seat to the upcoming spectacle. Tomme stood right at the edge, her fingers rapidly writing in her report notebook as she monitored the spike in anomalous energy, completely ignoring the four elites behind her.
Barris, still looking slightly green around the gills from Enjin’s driving, crossed his arms and sneered. "They're really splitting up in active territory? Overconfidence is a flaw, even for veteran Cleaners."
"Just watch, bootlicker," Rudo’s voice cracked through the chaos with anger and dripping with pure arrogance as he and Enjin began their descent into the basin.
Before Barris could snap back, the ground beneath the crater violently shuddered. From the shifting mountains of trash, several massive, grotesque shapes began to violently burst forth. They were towering trash beasts, their bodies a horrific amalgamation of rusted steel beams, pressurized containers, and toxic sludge held together by a malicious, supernatural force. Two of the largest beasts immediately roared, lumbering straight toward the lower basin, while a pack of faster, multi-legged anomalies began scrambling up the steep eastern ridge right toward Zanka’s trio.
Up on the high ridge, Zanka initiated the defense. As a pure close-quarters melee combatant, he didn't need ranged projectiles; his style was aggressive, direct, and lethal. The moment his fingers wrapped securely around his Lovely Staff, his spiritual energy surged. The blue Jinki erupted into a brilliant, dazzling aura, the sheer force of his power sending a shockwave through the dusty air. He spun his staff in a flawless, glowing blur, creating a localized vortex of blue energy that shattered the front legs of the first beast into absolute dust. He moved with absolute, prideful grace, his boots barely touching the ground as he drove the butt of his staff directly into the core of the anomalies, detonating their spiritual bindings.
Beside him, Riyo moved in perfect harmony. Her Jinki—a pair of massive, gleaming scissors—snapped and sheared through the air with a deafening, metallic rhythm. She utilized her incredibly strong legs to deliver devastating, high-flying kicks, using the sheer force of her momentum to drive the heavy blades straight through the reinforced chassis of a charging trash beast, cutting it cleanly in half.
Down in the lower basin, a massive shadow suddenly loomed over the trench. Two titanic trash beasts had cornered Enjin and Rudo.
"Look down there!" Vane yelled, his fingers nervously digging into the concrete railing as his eyes widened behind his visor. "The Captain and the kid are cornered! They're going to get crushed!"
"Don't cover your eyes yet, Vane," Tomme chided smoothly, her stylus clicking against her slate as she kept her gaze fixed on the battlefield. "You're about to see the heavy hitters."
Down below, Enjin didn't even look up from his relaxed stance. With a deep, booming chuckle that vibrated through the local comms, he unlatched his Jinki—a large, imposing umbrella. With a fluid, deceptively casual flick of his wrist, he snapped the heavy umbrella open. The moment the canopy spread, his jinki's rapid movements were extremely fast, even resembling a shield due to their speed the front-line trash beast slammed its colossal, rusted fist directly into the umbrella's shield, only for the impact to completely shatter its own arm into a million splinters of scrap.
"My turn!" Rudo barked.
The white-haired pup stepped out from behind Enjin's absolute defense, his hands encased in his specialized 3R. Rudo’s ruby eyes flared behind of Enjin as he slammed his hands directly into a massive pile of discarded iron bars at his feet. His Jinki flared to life, its unique ability instantly converting the raw trash into a localized, razor-sharp replica of a heavy broadsword. With a fierce cry, Rudo swung the newly formed weapon, the compressed trash-blade cutting a deep, explosive fissure right through the second beast's leg.
Just at the perimeter, Gris proved his worth without even needing a Jinki. Utilizing his monstrous, superhuman raw strength, he charged a stray beast that tried to flee the basin. He lunged forward, his bare, gloved hands locking onto the creature’s jagged torso. With a deep grunt, Gris physically lifted the entire multi-ton trash beast over his head and violently hurled it across the crater, sending it crashing directly into the lower basin right in front of Enjin and Rudo to be finished off.
Suddenly, the earth shifted violently once more. From the base of the eastern ridge, a massive fissure split open, and a double wave of trash beasts—much larger and heavily armored than the previous ones—began scrambling at top speed toward Zanka’s position.
"Look in the area where it is Zanka, the right flank is being overrun!" Vane shouted through the chaos but obviously no one of the givers hear it from a distance his voice cracking with panic "There are too many of them! He can't contain them all in close combat!"
Kira stepped closer to the railing, her eyes fixed on the emerging horde, waiting to see the exact moment the proud Omega would finally break and ask for backup. Barris swallowed heavily, secretly wishing to see a flaw in his former classmate's flawless defense.
Zanka, however, didn't even flinch. He stopped the spin of his staff for a fraction of a second, glanced down at the fourteen-year-old girl waiting anxiously by his side, and, with a smirk of absolute confidence hidden beneath his gas mask, spoke with firm authority:
"Guita. You have a green light. Activate up to Level 3."
The pup’s eyes flashed with absolute, unbridled excitement. "YESSS!"
Finally, after holding back the entire mission, Guita unleashed the true power of her Jinki. The moment she activated Level 3, she didn't just summon an aura—she literally transformed. The soft, plush fabric of her outfit expanded and warped as she physically turned into a giant, living pajama-Kaiju. Her body became a massive, towering beast made of thick, fuzzy plush material, combining terrifying proportions with a hilariously soft, stuffed-animal texture.
As the massive, adorable nightmare reached its full size, a dense wave of heat and devastating spiritual pressure erupted from her plush seams, shaking the concrete of the observation platform.
Without wasting a single second, the giant plush-Kaiju charged head-on into the new wave of beasts. Her speed and brute strength multiplied to such a terrifying extent that, with a single, colossal punch from her massive furry fist, she completely vaporized the scrap armor of the leading beast. This left the path wide open for Zanka to immediately step in with his staff, executing a brutal close-range strike that shattered the core.
From above of the safe zone, the four Hell Guards watched the scene in a deathly, suffocating silence, completely overwhelmed. Mina completely dropped the pen she was using to try and copy Tomme's movements; her eyes behind her visor had been darting frantically from Riyo’s powerful leg strikes to Rudo’s weapon-crafting gloves, to Zanka's wonderful moves, to Enjin powerful power to lastly the cute but deadly Guita, and her copycat brain had completely short-circuited. Kira clenched her jaw, finally realizing that the "vulnerability" she was looking for in this family of Cleaners simply did not exist.
Barris stood in stunned, suffocating silence. The toxic envy that usually burned so hot in his chest was completely snuffed out by a crushing weight of reality. He wasn't a Giver. He didn't have a Jinki. He was an "elite" of the barracks, yet out here, he was nothing more than a helpless spectator forced to accept that a child who could literally transform into a giant, destructive plush monster possessed a raw power he could never hope to achieve back at the quarters.
Tomme let out a soft hum, a proud smile gracing her face beneath her mask, smoothly closing her notebook finalizing the deployment report. "Data log completed. Excellent work, vanguard."
The cleanup was efficient and brutal, as expected of the Cleaners. Once the last of the trash beasts crumbled into static-charged dust, a heavy, settling silence returned to the crater, punctuated only by the dry wind whipping through the rusted debris.
Down in the basin, Enjin exhaled a long, steady breath, the sound whistling softly through his respirator’s intake. He snapped his massive umbreaker shut with a sharp clack, the golden aura around it vanishing instantly. He didn't even break a sweat, simply using the back of his hand to swipe a layer of gray soot off his coat. Nearby, Rudo shook his white hair out, sending a small cloud of grime into the air, and casually de-manifested his jinki. The makeshift trash-sword he’d created clattered to the ground, losing its shape as the Jinki's influence faded.
On the high ridge the spectacle wasn't over. Guita, still in her towering, gargantuan Kaiju-pajama form, was vibrating with sheer, youthful energy. Her massive, plush tail swished back and forth, clearing a path through the debris with every sweep.
"Did you see that?! I sent that big one flying all the way to the ridge!" Guita’s voice was a booming, monster-sized rumble that still held the bubbly, high-pitched inflection of a young girl.
"Of course you did little one, you did a wonderful job" Riyo laughed, the sound bright and clear through the calm after the fight. She slid her scissors back onto her hip, then took a moment to brush a handful of gritty dust off her black shorts. She smoothed out the thick, plush leg-warmers that hugged her calves, unbothered by the harsh conditions or the lack of full-length gear. With a playful grin, she took a light, rhythmic leap off the ridge and landed with effortless grace onto Guita’s soft, overstuffed shoulder, sinking comfortably into the furry, plush-like material. "Best taxi in the wasteland, hands down."
Zanka, looking as composed as ever, tapped the head of his Lovely Staff to clear a stray bit of sludge before securing it to his back. With a subtle, prideful smile behind his mask, he leaped from the high ground and landed squarely on the crown of the giant plush-Kaiju’s head. He settled in between the fuzzy ears, crossing his arms and leaning back, completely at ease. "Down we go, Guita. Don't trip."
"I'm a pro! Watch this!"
The giant plush-Kaiju bounded downward, each step thumping heavily and shaking the earth, yet the ride for the two on her back was cushioned by inches of soft, stuffed-animal padding. They descended into the basin like royalty, leaving the Hell Guards staring up in a state of utter, stunned paralysis.
Gris and Follo approached from the rear, calmly wiping the toxic muck from their hands with old, weathered rags, Follow cleaning in silence his hammer. Gris looked up at the sight of the giant Kaiju taxi service and then flicked his eyes toward the four elites. "Jeeps are ready," Gris said, his tone flat and professional. "Don't trip on your way back."
The words acted like a bucket of cold water. Barris, his pride completely dismantled, turned and began the long, silent trek back to the transport. He didn't say a word—there was nothing left to say. He’d come here to document "weakness," but all he had found was the impossible.
Vane followed him, his movements stiff and robotic, his mask still slightly crooked from his earlier panic. Mina was in a complete trance, her brain stuck in a loop trying to analyze the physics of Riyo’s leg-warmer-clad mobility while simultaneously trying to understand how one could maintain 'elite' dignity while riding a giant, living pajama monster.
Kira brought up the rear, her eyes narrow and sharp. She watched as Guita reached the bottom, her Jinki flickering and dissolving until she was just a small girl in soft pajamas again. The sight was even more infuriating than the transformation—they were so comfortable, so powerful, and so completely unreachable.
Tomme wave her family when they were close, a smug, satisfied glint in her eyes. "Mission report: Overwhelming success," she announced. She walked past the silent, humbled Hell Guards, who climbed into the backseat of the Jeep like whipped dogs. They were covered in dust, shaken to their cores, and painfully aware that they had just witnessed a level of power that their barracks could only dream of. As the engine rumbled to life, the four of them sat in suffocating silence, dreading the ride back, and dreading even more the report they would have to write.
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The engine of Enjin’s Jeep roared back to life with a violent, sputtering cough, instantly filling the front cabin with the familiar, heavy vibration of the transport.
Even with the immediate threat cleared, the toxic pockets of the wasteland basin remained incredibly thick, leaving a dense, suffocating gray haze hanging heavily in the air. Because the atmosphere was still completely uninhabitable, everyone kept their gas masks and respirators firmly fastened over their faces. The thick filters completely covered their expressions, and the only sounds inside the vehicle were the rhythmic, mechanical hisses of the canisters purifying the contaminated air.
Right from the moment they piled into the transport, the seating arrangement had drastically shifted. Mina had cautiously slid straight into the middle row, taking the remaining empty seat right between Zanka and Riyo instead of joining her squad in the back. She sat stiff as a board, her notebook clutched tightly against her chest as her heavy, visor-less gas mask hissed with every nervous breath she took. Sitting directly alongside two high-tier Cleaners made her freeze up completely, her shoulders tense as she tried to give them as much space as possible.
Behind them, in the very rear row, Barris, Vane, and Kira sat shoulder-to-shoulder in absolute, suffocating silence. Barris was staring fixedly at the rusted floorboards, his knuckles white as he clutched his unwritten report, furious and humiliated that one of his own had chosen to sit with the "monsters." Vane was slumped against the door panel, completely drained, while Kira’s eyes remained wide open behind her mask, glaring at Mina’s back and trying to calculate how their formation had fallen apart so completely.
Enjin settled his massive frame into the driver's seat, his large hands gripping the steering wheel. Even with his face completely obscured by his dark, heavy mask, his lazy yet imposing demeanor was unmistakable. He flicked his golden eyes toward the rearview mirror, observing the shattered pride of the elites.
"Well," Enjin’s deep voice vibrated through the cabin, modulated and deep through his mask's vocalizer. "You elites look like you've seen a ghost. I thought the Hell Guard was built for the rough terrain."
"We... we are perfectly fine, Captain," Barris managed to choke out, his voice sounding hollow and metallic through his filter. He tried desperately to force his tone into its usual pompous register, though it cracked pathetically at the end. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling the heavy, mocking gaze of Rudo from the passenger seat.
Rudo turned around completely, leaning his arms over the back of the front seat with a massive, bratty grin hidden beneath the frame of his respirator. "Oh, really? Because from here, it looks like you're about to cry, elite. What's wrong? Did the big, bad trash beasts scare the soldiers?"
"Shut up, you little brat," Barris hissed weakly, crossing his arms and looking away to avoid the kid's piercing ruby eyes.
Through the open side window, the conversation happening just outside between the rest of the crew echoed clearly into the middle row before the doors closed. Riyo was leaning against the side panel, casually stretching her legs. Her thick, leg-warmer-style socks were slightly scuffed with dust, but she didn't seem to care at all as she played around with her Jinki one last time. With a flashy, practiced spin of her wrists, she twirled the massive handles, making the enormous blades snip twice through the air with a dangerous, heavy clack-clack. Satisfied, she triggered the release; the colossal scissors smoothly retracted and shrunk back down to their compact, miniature size, and she casually slipped them into her pocket, giving her short black shorts a quick pat to clear the remaining grime.
Beside the vehicle, Guita was practically vibrating, her regular plush pajamas looking a little rumpled after her massive Level 3 transformation, but her energy was completely maxed out.
"Can I do it again next time we go out, Zanka? Please?! I mean, specifically when just you and I go on a mission together!" Guita begged, her muffled voice booming eagerly through her respirator as she tugged on the sleeve of his coat through the window frame. "The tail swipe felt so cool! I think I can make the jump even higher next time if it's just the two of us running the vanguard!"
Zanka sat stoically in his seat, his wood and incense pheromones holding a quiet, satisfied hum. He reached his gloved hand out through the window frame, gently patting the top of her hood, right between the plush ears of her outfit. "Only if you keep your guard up on the landing, kiddo. You left your left flank wide open for a second there, even at Level 3. If it's just us next time, I won't be covering your blind spots for free."
"I'll fix it! I promise! Next mission together will be perfect!" she cheered, her bright eyes flashing through her mask with absolute happiness before she scrambled into the second Jeep where Tomme, Gris and Follo were already waiting.
With the outside chat wrapped up, Zanka effortlessly leaned back into his seat, his sharp blue eyes shifting for a fraction of a second toward Mina, who sat perfectly still beside him, before flicking a cold, incredibly prideful glance toward Kira in the very back row. His posture radiated an unyielding aura of absolute dominance. He didn't need to say a word; the display on the ridge had said everything for him.
Enjin slammed his boot down on the accelerator. The Jeep violently lunged forward, tires tearing into the contaminated earth and kicking up a colossal storm of dust as they began their rapid journey away from the ruined sector.
They drove for several miles, ascending a steep, rocky pass until the dense, toxic fog of the lower basin finally began to thin out. The harsh, localized poisonous pockets faded into the standard, neutral atmosphere of the upper border. The green indicator lights on the dashboard flickered, signaling that the air outside was finally habitable.
With a synchronized hiss of pressure, the Cleaners finally unlatched their gear.
Enjin pulled his gas mask off with a smooth, unbothered motion, tossing it casually onto the dashboard. Free from the restriction, he instantly reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a cigarette, snapping a lighter to life. He took a long, deep drag, exhaling a thick plume of gray smoke that drifted out the open window into the clearing wasteland air, his golden eyes relaxed once more. Rudo pulled his respirator down around his neck, letting out a refreshed sigh and immediately sticking his tongue out at the backseat.
In the middle row, Zanka and Riyo pulled their masks off simultaneously, shaking out their hair as the fresh air hit their faces. Mina followed their lead, pulling her heavy facegear completely off and letting it hang by its strap. Her face was pale, a light layer of sweat making her bangs stick to her forehead, but her eyes were wide with a mixture of intense reverence and sheer nervousness.
Riyo immediately leaned back against the worn upholstery, turning her head past Mina toward Zanka with a bright, easygoing grin as she began to chat, effortlessly including the young Hell Guard in her space.
"Seriously though, Zanka, you completely stole my spotlight on that ridge," Riyo said, elbowing her arm playfully across the shared row. "I was right in the middle of a perfect spin-kick combo, and you just had to go and detonate that entire core right next to me. The shockwave almost ruined my landing."
Zanka leaned his head back against the seat, a faint, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his pheromones softened into a calm, steady wave, filling the middle cabin with a grounding sense of absolute security.
"If your landing is that easily ruined, Riyo, maybe you need to spend more time practicing your balance and less time showboating for the back row," Zanka murmured smoothly, his voice completely lacking the hostility he saved for Barris.
"Hey, my balance is flawless, thank you very much," Riyo laughed, turning her gaze directly to Mina with a friendly nudge. "Don't let him fool you, girl. He's just grumpy because he thinks Guita is going to outshine his precious Lovely Staff the next time they run a vanguard mission together."
Mina swallowed heavily, her fingers tightening around her notebook as she looked at Riyo's relaxed expression, then glanced at Zanka's calm, unyielding authority. "Actually... the way you two synchronized on that ridge completely broke the baseline tactical formulas we study at the barracks," Mina stammered, her voice stripped of any standard military arrogance. "Especially your leg-work, Miss Riyo. The momentum required to drive those scissors through reinforced chassis steel while wearing just shorts and leg warmers without losing your balance is... it's incredible."
"See? At least someone appreciates the finer details!" Riyo beamed, clearly delighted by the technical praise.
Zanka's blue eyes flicked toward Mina's notebook with a quiet sense of satisfaction looking out the window as the Jeep rolled onward.
Mina’s pen quickly began scratching down frantic notes, completely absorbed in the conversation. Hearing the two Cleaners casually dissect a battlefield that had completely terrified her squad was staggering. From the very back row, she could practically feel the furious, burning glares of Barris and Kira boring into her skull, but sitting here from the start, surrounded by the calm, overwhelming presence of actual Givers, Mina finally realized what true strength looked like—and she wasn't planning on moving.
Some minutes later as Riyo finished speaking, she subtly tilted her head to a sharp, precise angle—a subconscious habit she always did whenever she was thoroughly satisfied with an explanation of her combat style.
The moment Mina saw it, her copycat brain instantly fired up. Now that the initial terror of the basin had completely worn off, the fragile facade of her nervous, respectful academy student act began to disintegrate. Her posture shifted fluidly, her neck twitching as she copied the exact, sharp tilt of Riyo’s head, her movements taking on a blatant, shameless replication of the elite Cleaner’s relaxed lean right in front of her. She wasn't asking permission anymore; she was draining data, dissecting Riyo's natural mannerisms to store them away in her mental archive.
Riyo’s bright expression instantly vanished. A sharp, icy spike of pure irritation flickered in her eyes, and her entire frame went completely rigid. She absolutely detested being copied; her rhythm and style were built from raw, grueling survival, and seeing this military brat shamelessly try to lift her quirks rubbed her entirely the wrong way. She wanted to snap, but looking at the cramped quarters of the Jeep and the heavier political game at play with the elites in the back, Riyo held her tongue. She didn't say a single word, suppressing her annoyance with a forced, heavy sigh as she rolled her eyes and turned her face sharply toward the window, completely freezing the friendly banter.
Zanka didn't move his head from the headrest, keeping his eyes lazily fixed on the barren landscape passing outside. He didn't offer a single word of praise, nor did he encourage her little habit. Instead, his sharp blue eyes narrowed into dangerous slits as he watched Mina's quick transformation out of the corner of his eye.
As a former classmate of the four Hell Guards back at the academy quarters, Zanka knew exactly who Mina was. He remembered the locker-room warnings, the cold tactical briefings, and the ruthless reputation she carried. Mina didn't copy out of admiration; she was a serial parasite. She meticulously studied the movements, psychological quirks, and fighting styles of stronger comrades only to use that exact data to stab them in the back later for her own personal advancement. Her notebook wasn't a school diary—it was a hit list of stolen traits.
But Zanka didn't say a word. He didn't expose her to Riyo, nor did he call her out to the front seat. Instead, his posture radiated a cold, suffocating aura of absolute dominance, his wood and incense pheromones tightening into a sharp, silent hum of warning. He leaned back, his mind already turning the situation over with calculating precision. Let her copy, he thought, a dark, dangerous amusement settling behind his calm expression. Let her drain them if she can. He knew exactly what Mina was doing, and he was already planning to bring every single piece of data he knew about his former academy classmates back to his pack. He would tell Enjin and the rest of the crew exactly how the four of them operated, turning Mina's predictable cycle of betrayal into an asset for the Cleaners before she could even think of turning on them.
"Honestly, you waste too much breath trying to look flashy anyway," Zanka murmured smoothly to Riyo, breaking the cold silence in the row and intentionally shutting Mina out of the space. "It’s called efficiency. Why waste energy on three mid-air flips when a single, well-placed strike from the Lovely Staff shatters the structural integrity of the core entirely?"
Riyo, grateful for the distraction from her annoyance, let out a mocking chuckle and adjusted one of her thick leg warmers over her short black shorts. "Oh, please, Zanka, my balance is flawless and you know it. Besides, you’re just grumpy because you know the next time you go out on a mission alone with Guita, she's going to completely eclipse your precious staff with her Level 3 tantrum."
"She did well today," Zanka countered, brushing off the jab with a smug smile beneath his mask, though his pheromones softened slightly at the mention of his sister. "But she still has a long way to go before she can handle the vanguard alone. Level 3 is a low burden for herself, but of course the little one wants to go further."
Zanka paused deliberately, and his gaze shifted to the rearview mirror, his sharp blue eyes locking squarely onto the three figures frozen in the back row.
"But...Guita kept her composure when the horde emerged obviously like a wonderful warrior," he added aloud, his voice growing ice-cold as it cut through the air of the Jeep like a razor. "She opened her eyes and attacked. That’s more than I can say for...well most people."
Even while keeping Mina’s treacherous nature close to his chest, Zanka's pride as an Omega meant he wouldn't miss a single opportunity to completely dismantle the egos of his former academy rivals.
A heavy, suffocating wave of tension spiked from the very back row. Barris’s breath hitched in his throat, his teeth grinding so hard the sound was almost audible over the roar of the engine. To be completely ignored by Zanka was one thing, but to have their bravery openly compared to Mina’s—the squad's known liability and future traitor—and found wanting, was an agonizing, venomous humiliation.
Kira squeezed her eyes shut, her fingers digging violently into the fabric of her trousers, remembering how Zanka used to walk the academy halls with that same insufferable, unyielding aura of absolute superiority. They had shared a classroom, but today proved they no longer shared the same universe.
In the front seat, Enjin kept his eyes firmly on the rugged road while smoking in silence, exhaling a dense cloud of gray smoke out the open window, thoroughly amused by the psychological carnage his son had just unleashed on the military personnel.
Mina’s pen quickly went back to scratching frantic notes in her book, her posture completely stiffening up again as she felt Zanka's oppressive, warning pheromones pressing down on her. The Jeep hit a massive bump, sending everyone slightly airborne for a split second, but Enjin just accelerated harder, driving forcefully forward as the iron gates of the city borders finally began to appear on the horizon.
The heavy iron gates of the city borders grew larger in the dust-streaked windshield, but the air inside the cabin remained thick enough to cut with a knife.
"Damn it, Zanka!" Barris finally snapped from the very back row, his voice cracking with a mixture of wounded pride and sheer exhaustion. He slammed his white-knuckled fist against the rusted side panel of the Jeep, completely breaking the suffocating silence. "You think you're so high and mighty just because you threw away your uniform to play in the dirt with the Cleaners? We are the Hell Guard! We follow protocols! If the tactical baseline says to hold defensive formation, we hold it!"
Zanka didn't even turn his head. He merely let out a low, deeply mocking hum, his wood and incense pheromones flaring with a cold, superior dominance that practically pinned Barris back into his seat.
Beside Barris, Vane finally stirred. He unslumped himself from the door panel, his pale face looking utterly drained as he rubbed his temples, his voice coming out in a strained, pathetic whine. "Shut up, Barris... just drop it. My head is already splitting from the fumes, and your shouting isn't helping. He’s right, okay? The kid ran circles around us while we were busy calculating the retreat parameters. Just write the damn report so we can get out of this tin can."
"Write the report?!" Barris hissed, turning his furious glare onto his squadmate. "How am I supposed to write a standard engagement report when our own vanguard analyst is sitting up there shamelessly playing copycat with the civilians?!"
Mina didn't look back at them, but her pen suddenly paused on the paper, her shoulders tensing back into a rigid, defensive line as her squad openly called out her behavior.
Riyo, still thoroughly annoyed by Mina's blatant copying but even more irritated by Barris's pompous shouting, leaned back and threw a sharp, mocking look over her shoulder toward the back row. "Hey, corporate. If your 'protocols' involve sitting in the back seat looking like you're about to lose your lunch, then yeah, you guys are doing a fantastic job. Maybe you should copy us a little more; it might actually keep you alive next time."
"We don't need tactical advice from a girl who fights in shorts, Cleaner," Barris snarled back, trying desperately to salvage a shred of his dignity.
"And yet, my shorts are completely clean, while your shiny elite trousers are covered in basin dust from how fast you hit the deck," Riyo countered with a sharp, lethal grin, effortlessly shutting him down.
Zanka's blue eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, watching Barris stew in his own pathetic fury while Vane slumped back against the door, completely defeated. Zanka’s mind was already cataloging every reaction, every weakness, and every word spoken. He knew Barris's predictable arrogance would make him reckless, and he knew Vane's cowardice would make him the first to break under pressure. Once they returned to headquarters, Zanka would lay out every single detail for his pack. The crew would know exactly how to handle these all ex-classmates, turning the Hell Guard's internal friction into the perfect shield for the Cleaners.
In the front seat, Enjin took one last, long drag of his cigarette, letting the embers burn down to the filter before flicking the butt out into the wind. He let out a deep, booming laugh that echoed through the entire frame of the vehicle, his golden eyes crinkling with dark amusement at the absolute mess in the back rows.
"Alright, save the rest of the chatter for the barracks, elites," Enjin called out, his lazy voice laced with a dangerous edge as he gripped the wheel. "We're crossing the threshold."
With a massive screech of metal, the outer border gates began to grind open. Enjin slammed his boot down on the accelerator one last time, driving the heavy Jeep through the checkpoint and back into the shadow of the city, leaving the humbled, bickering squad to endure the final, agonizingly silent minutes of their return.
"Oh dammit those beast managed to wound me on the arm!... well, they left me with a spectacular cut on my sleeve, but August is definitely going to want to kill me." Enjin's words made his four children smile mockingly, and the eldest quickly realized they were going to start teasing him about his carelessness... at least his older pups weren't fighting back there anymore, something was better than nothing.