- Oliver -

  Oliver was asding in one of the elevators of the research building alongside Wiz. But deep in his mind, he was still reeling from what he had witnessed ihe lengths to which the Blue Rangers were willing to go to secure victory for humanity. Having narrowly escaped death multiple times at the hands of the Orks, he felt nothing but seething hatred toward them.

  Yet, after his own harrowing experience of being tortured, he found himself able to put himself in the Orks' position. Deep down, he reized that there were rules—lihat should not be crossed even in war.

  In the er of his vision, a notification persisted—a blinking remihat he could cli his reward:

  | Maze Master| plete the maze in under 1 minute| [Click to Redeem]

  However, between the numerous meetings and training sessions, Oliver hadn't found the time to be alone and redeem it.

  ‘None of my other achievements required my a to be collected. They were automatic. If this one is waiting for me to click, it must have some iion or result. I'd better be prepared—it could be something akin to an evolution,’ Oliver pondered.

  "This will be the first mission that I'll be sending you on," Wiz expined, his gaze fixed ahead. "You'll have two weeks to prepare until theraining as you have been, especially to ensure trol over your power with the armor."

  "Already? Doesn't it usually take more time before receiving a mission?" Oliver asked, turning to look at the General.

  "Usually, yes," Wiz admitted, gng at him. "But you're far from ordinary. Other Rangers would take much loo master their armor. You mao do it on the first try, and soon enough, you'll have full and over it." He paused for a moment before adding, "Besides, you've demonstrated a skill that I wasn't aware of until now—ohat will be needed for this mission."

  "What would that be?" Oliver asked, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

  "Your knowledge of Orkish and, well, a bit of empathy for them," Wiz replied.

  "Empathy?" Oliver frowhe very idea causing a knot in his stomach. The thought that he could feel anything but animosity toward the Orks seemed impossible.

  "Yes," Wiz affirmed. "One of the greatest mistakes someone make during a war is blind hatred—being so ed by it that you're uo put yourself in your oppo's shoes." He looked directly at Oliver. "It blinds you to the moves they might make. Trust me, I've seen many officers fall in the field because they believed the Orks were nothing more than irrational monsters."

  Oliver was silent for a moment, pting the General's words.

  When the elevator doors slid open, Oliver found himself on a new floor. Uhe previous levels, which were brimming with boratories, this corridor was lined with s and, more promily, small meeting rooms with gss-paneled walls.

  Wiz strode fidently toward the meeting room. Oliver followed closely behind, his senses sharpening with anticipation. He was beginning to grow aced to these sudden briefings. As they ehe room, Wiz took his seat at the head of the table.

  Oliver walked over and stood a few paces to the General's left, maintaining a respectful posture as they awaited the others.

  "You sit down," the General said, his tone softer than usual. "This time, you won't be just ."

  "Yes, sir." Oliver nodded and sat beside Wiz, feeling curious and apprehensive.

  It didn't take long for others to arrive. The first to enter was a young man eared slightly older than Oliver—perhaps in his early twenties, Oliver guessed.

  Like the other Rangers, he wore the official uniform of the h Army (NEA). Still, his attire was augmented by a partially activated Ranger armor that was anything but standard. Instead of the typical armored ptes, his suit appeared to be made from syic fabric that shimmered subtly uhe room's lights. Rather than a helmet, he wore a hood that partially obscured his face, shadows pying across his sharp features. Dark hair spilled out from beh the hood, framing eyes that glinted with mischief.

  Beh the hood, a sly, fident smile curved his lips. His hands were casually tucked into the pockets of his tailored pants, exuding an air of effortless assurance.

  The only pos that resembled traditional armor were the shoulder pads—two sleek pauldrons that gleamed with a blend of elegand tent power. Embzoned on his chest was a metallic crest depig a skull with wings—a symbol that seemed at once rebellious and ominous.

  The Ranger's gaze swept over the room before settling on Wiz. "So, am I finally heading bato the field, old man?" he quipped.

  "Perhaps," Wiz replied evenly, giving the young man a measured look from head to toe. "I'm still evaluating."

  As Wiz spoke, the Ranger sauntered over and dropped into a chair directly across from Oliver, lounging with casual nonce. He g Oliver, appraising him with a keen eye. "So, this is the new little monster of the Blue Rangers?"

  "Monster? Maybe," Wiz said thoughtfully, casting a sidelong g Oliver. "He'll be apanying you on the mission."

  Turning to Oliver, Wiz tinued, "This is Elliot Harper. He's a fully certified Blue Ranger aains his rank as an officer in the NEA. He's a linguist specializing in Orkish—his expertise lies in their written nguage and cryptography."

  Elliot made an exaggerated gesture with his hands, as if taking a bow on stage. "Always a pleasure to meet a felly," he said with a pyful smirk.

  Before Wiz could introduce Oliver, the door to the meeting room swung open once more.

  A young woman strode in with a firm, determined gait, her eyes fixed on some invisible point ahead as if she were about to challehe very air itself. Her expression was that of someone who had long since surpassed mere irritation—now, only cold fury resided in her gaze. Her dark, wavy hair, slightly disheveled, seemed as rebellious as she was.

  She halted in the ter of the room, hands ched at her sides. Her pierg stare swept over the octs like an unyielding ser, unc faces as they didn't even realize they were revealing. Her gaze locked directly onto Wiz.

  "I am not going!" she decred loudly, her voice cutting through the air. "I've already told you I'm not going on any mission. There's no point in trying to send me again. My research is already behind schedule, General."

  Wiz, still looking at Oliver, remarked wryly, "Researchers are always the hardest to send on missions."

  "Sit down, Emma," Wiz anded, his tone firm yet measured. "Let me expin the mission, and afterward, you resider whether you wish to partake."

  Emma huffed but plied, dropping heavily into a seat beside Elliot. Elliot fshed a mog grin at her, only to receive a swift punch to his arm. He wiheatrically, rubbing the spot while trying to suppress a chuckle.

  Turning back to the rest, Wiz tinued, "Emma Caldwell is also a fully certified Ranger and serves the NEA as a researcher in Geography, specifically fog on Ork Sociology."

  Emma crossed her arms, a scowl still etched on her face. Oliver he iy in her eyes—a mix of frustration and undeniable passion.

  "Finally," Wiz g Oliver, "this is Oliver, one of our Rangers. Despite his short time with us, he has already been able to use his Ranger Armor."

  Elliot let out a low whistle of approval, leaning ba his chair with an impressed look. "Well done."

  "However," Wiz added, "he will be joining you for another reason. He's one of the few who have survived prolonged close tact with the Orks and possesses a basiderstanding of their spoken nguage."

  At this revetion, both Elliot and Emma straightened in their seats, their curiosity evidently piqued.

  "Before you start with questions," Wiz interjected, raising a hand to preempt any interruptions, "allow me to expin the mission."

  He tapped a trol oable's sole. From the ter, a holographic projeaterialized—a detailed three-dimensional map ed terrain marked with strategic points and notation.

  "We've received coordinates on Olympus," Wiz began, nodding toward the floating map. "Theoretically, it's supposed to be a small Ork depot. Based on its location and preliminary droellige appears to be an abandoned base. However, from the imagery, it seems it once served as a logistical support hub."

  The hologram shifted, dispying aerial images—structures half-buried in the ndscape, possible entry points, and areas of i.

  "You will be teaming up with Red and Yellers," Wiz tinued. "Your objective is to advance south of the Half Wall and infiltrate this territory. We need you to gather information crucial for oing researd to deepen our uanding of Ork movements."

  Wiz paused, his gaze sweeping over each of them. "Based o enemy activity, this should be a straightforward mission. However, it's vital for the studies we're dug."

  “Any questions?"

  GCLopes