Soon, it was Monday morning. At six AM on the dot, Ren knocked on Max's door again. "Come on, get up, we're going on patrol." Max, who was supposed to be ready thirty minutes ago, jumped out of bed and threw some clothes on. He grabbed a grey hoodie and some jeans, as well as his training staff, and flew out the door. Outside, Ren and Devon were already at the front gate waiting for him. On their way up the street, Max asked Devon what exactly "Patrolling" meant in this situation. "Do we just wait until we hear something going on? How do you know where to be?" "You really don't pay attention to anything, do you?" Devon sighed. "I have a radio. HQ will let us know if there are any incidents nearby, along with the location. We generally patrol the west side, near the water, so make sure to familiarize yourself with the area." Ren's eyes narrowed. "I thought I told you all of this yesterday," "Yeah, probably…" Max mumbled under his breath.
At around noon, they finally got a call about a stolen delivery of sealing tiles, small iron plates with complex circles engraved on one side. They were primarily used for incapacitating demons, and were always in high demand. Due to recent thefts, the Association had started to hide tracking devices amongst the deliveries, which was evidently an effective strategy, as it led Devon, Max, and Ren right to the warehouse they were being hidden in. The warehouse was right by the port, surrounded by a junkyard of old boats. As they approached the warehouse, Max immediately noticed the Flux in the air. It was faint, almost overpowered by the scent of the salty sea air blowing in with the tide. The area was deserted, with no signs of human life around, save for some tire tracks and footprints in the snow. They slowly approached the building, and found an unlocked side door, slightly ajar.
The inside of the warehouse was completely dark, save for one dim light in the middle of the loading bay, illuminating five individuals. They were surrounded by wooden crates, likely filled with the stolen tiles. As soon as Devon stepped foot in the room, the people in the light rushed to pick up the boxes, moving them further into the shadows. As Devon, Max, and Ren approached the middle of the room, Max felt the pressure in the air change, alongside a ripping sound, like cloth tearing, as if reality itself was being torn apart. The whole building shook, and then it stopped just as quickly as it had started. A man stepped out of the shadows, on a catwalk high above them. He was short, with black hair and a short beard. Green eyes peered out from under a dark hood, and twin daggers glinted in the dim room. Ren's hand went straight to her sword instinctively. Devon's posture changed, shoulders tightening, preparing for a fight.
"Kieran Voss," Devon said, voice low. Max glanced over at him. "You got history or something?" Devon's jaw flexed. "You could say that." Ren slowly unsheathed her katana as Kieran's gaze moved over Devon, then Ren, before eventually settling on Max. A small, wicked smile spread across his face, as he raised his daggers, preparing for combat. Max blinked, and in an instant, Kieran was upon him, seconds away from cutting his throat. Ren intercepted him, stepping between them, and her sword swung in a clean arc, aimed for Kieran's shoulder. The blade hummed as it was flooded with Flux, and the engravings and edge lit up with a brilliant red hue, illuminating the room with a sinister crimson color. Kieran switched targets mid-air, raising one of his daggers to block the blade. Sparks flew, and Ren's arms shook from the sheer force of the blow. Kieran's grin grew wider, as he twisted, before driving the handle of his dagger between her ribs. His foot came up seconds later, hitting her in the stomach. As Ren stumbled backwards, a metallic rattling sound filled the room, and chains, all glowing a dark red, erupted from every surface of the room. The walls, floor, and ceiling were suddenly full of twisted metal links, all lashing at Kieran. Kieran let out a laugh, and slashed away at the incoming attacks, dismantling everything that got too close.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Ren and Max started to flank Kieran. The other people that had been there before were long gone, and the priority of the mission had switched to capturing or eliminating Kieran. A stray chain flew past Kieran, who'd barely managed to dodge it, and struck a metal container just a few feet from Max with the force of a battering ram. He's really not holding anything back, huh? Max thought, carefully stepping over the chain and approaching Kieran's blind spot. Once they were close enough, Ren and Max jumped back into the fight. For just a moment, it looked like they had Kieran surrounded, like they had the upper hand. But then Devon's chains faltered, and he dropped to one knee, coughing up blood. His face was pale, and he looked like he'd pass out at any moment. Taking the opportunity, Kieran turned around, attacking Ren again. He slipped just inside of the arc of her blade, and slammed the pommel of his dagger into her temple. Ren crumpled to the floor immediately, motionless. He sheathed one of his daggers, before turning his attention to Max. "Ren!" Max called out, swinging his staff, charged with flux, straight at Kieran's head. Kieran rolled his shoulders, before effortlessly catching the edge of the staff with one hand. "They really put you out in the field?" Kieran said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "You've got potential, but you're not ready to be a part of this war." Filled with desperation and rage, Max tried to strike him in the chest with his fist. Kieran let the hit land, not even flinching, before punching him back, sending him flying across the room. Kieran dropped Max's staff, and it clattered to the concrete, red glow fading from the runes.
"This is just pathetic, Astor." Kieran said, with a smug look on his face, turning to face Devon. "Is this really where the standards of the Association lie nowadays?" Devon's eyes narrowed, and with a snap of his fingers, another chain flew out of his sleeve, aimed for Kieran's forehead. Kieran caught it effortlessly, before wrenching the chain, throwing Devon off balance. "How do you expect to survive the Descent if you can't even beat me?" Before Devon could respond, Kieran turned away. He retrieved a small device from his pocket, and spoke into it. "We're done here, Ivo. Pull me out." Almost immediately after the words left his mouth, reality warped again, and another man appeared in the center of the room. He didn't look older than 30, but he had hollow black eyes that made him look as if he'd witnessed civilizations rise and fall. He glanced over at Max, before setting his hand on Kieran's shoulder. The floor shook, and the two simply blinked out of existence.
Devon and Max looked over the entire warehouse, but there were no signs of life besides them and Ren, who was still lying unconscious on the floor. "So that was Kieran Voss." Devon said. "He was pretty high up in the chain of command in the old mafia." Max, who was now sitting on the floor beside Ren, looked up with a blank expression on his face. "I thought they were taken out by the government years ago. I remember seeing it on the news." Devon leaned against the wall and typed something on his phone, before looking back at Max. "Yeah, I know. I was part of the raid. They were involved with some demonic activity and had to be put down. That, and they were harboring unregistered Flux users." He pressed his hand against his forehead, before lowering his voice. "Kieran's presence here confirms my suspicions. The Ninth Ring isn't a new organisation, it's just a reformed version of the mafia. It actually makes a lot of sense, now that I think about it. They seemingly appeared out of nowhere, with preexisting connections and influence in the underworld." "What does that mean for us though?" Max asked, eyes wide. "Well, the mafia was functionally dead up until about a year or two ago, so I'd guess they came under new leadership. Likely someone with knowledge on how the Association operates." Devon looked deep in thought for a minute, before shaking his head and standing up straighter, changing the subject. "Alright, you carry Ren, I'm going to go report this to the Association" Before Max could complain, Devon dialed a number on his phone and left the building. Max lifted Ren onto his shoulders, and picked up her katana and his staff. Jeez, heavier than you look, Max thought, as he walked out into the biting cold of the eternal winter.
Upon returning to the Association headquarters, Ren was rushed to the Association's infirmary wing. Devon was scheduled for a meeting with the acting Director of the Association herself. Devon didn't say what it was about, but he knew it was something important. While Devon was gone, Max stayed with Ren at the side of her bed. While she always seemed cold to him on the outside, he felt that she probably would've done the same for him. Despite how it felt like she tried to kill him in training almost every day, Max had come to see Ren as a sort of older sister. Yes, she'd put him in his place when he was out of line, but he knew she also cared for him, even if she never really showed it. Max noticed little things, like how her tone had changed around him, a welcome change from the robotic formal speech she'd had when they first met. Or how she always grabbed him a drink when she went to the vending machine, and knew what flavors he liked. He didn't know much about her past, only that she was recruited after some accident back when she was really young. She never really had a normal childhood, being forced into this world so early in her life. Compared to her situation, it felt like Max had it easy.
The next week was quiet. Patrols had been paused, and tension in the Association building was at an all time high. Max could tell that Devon was hiding something. In fact, it felt like everyone around him was withholding information about something big. Max had heard whispers of it, but no one ever spoke to him directly on the topic. Despite that, Max had decided to try to ignore it and move forward. Then, during a routine training session, Devon pulled Max aside, visibly worried about something. Max set down his staff against a pillar, and Devon finally spoke. "I didn't want to tell you about this, but it's clear that you're involved now, so there's no avoiding it." A smirk formed on Max's face, but before he could say anything, Devon continued. "About four or five years ago, a fellow agent, and close friend of mine, Alan Prince, rebelled against the Association. He had a disagreement with the higher-ups, and ended up storming the artifact containment wing. I'm sure you've noticed the excessive levels of security around that area." "Yeah, I noticed. Who the hell puts biometric, keycard, and optic verification on the same door anyways?" Max said sarcastically. Devon didn't laugh, keeping the same grim expression on his face. "He stole some valuable artifacts, and then disappeared. No one's seen or heard from him since." Max's eyes widened. "Do you think-" "Yes." Devon interrupted. "I have reason to believe he's somehow involved with the Ninth Ring. I don't know what his plan is, but it's definitely something big."