BREW

As they neared headquarters, all Vanguard teams broke off along separate routes.

This wasn't just caution—it was protocol.

Every Maharlika Vanguard team followed scattering patterns to avoid tracking. Nightmares had strange senses. If even one followed them back, the entire HQ could be exposed.

Even though the area had been cleared and no hostile presence was reported, nothing was ever certain. Caution was survival.

Beneath the city, armored cars emerged one by one from separate underground gates.

Inside the command center, Field Commander Anthony stood waiting.

Alex stepped forward to give his report.

"No sign of a fissure on-site, sir. But…"

Anthony raised an eyebrow.

"But what?"

"We found two cursed items… and an entire neighborhood."

"A neigh— What!?" Anthony's voice cracked. His blood ran cold.

He had faced dozens of nightmares, but a full-blown spatial anomaly? That was on another level.

"Yes, sir. A full neighborhood. The air reeked of burnt coffee. It's possible the zone follows a killing pattern—but strangely, we recorded zero casualties."

"And the second cursed item we retrieved… gives off a much higher energy reading than the Child Swing. We estimate it's Level 3 or higher."

Anthony cursed under his breath.

"Level 3? Damn it… Unknown entities showing up without warning—this entire branch might be relocated."

He wasn't just being paranoid. According to Unified International Protocol (UIP), even low-level anomalies had specific countermeasures:

UI Nightmare Mission Guidelines:

Level 1 Nightmare: Requires at least 2 teams; reduces fatality rate to 15%

Level 2 Nightmare: Requires at least 5 teams; reduces fatality rate to 27%

Level 3 Nightmare: Demands large-scale ops—20 teams minimum, reduces fatality to 29%

Level 4 to Level 6: Must be avoided. Retreat protocol enforced

Disaster-Level & Above: Requires international cooperation and 3–5 years of planning

A Level 3 nightmare had just vanished in a phantom neighborhood.

Anthony knew what this meant: No other branch would help them. The risks outweighed the rewards. Even the main headquarters might abandon their entire division.

"Seal the Child Swing in HQ storage. Get the other item assessed in the lab—immediately."

"Yes, sir."

Anthony watched the elevator doors close with a heavy heart.

"Seven years," he muttered. "Seven years left before the worlds merge. Can we really find countermeasures?"

Outside, personnel sealed the swing in a secure vault. Meanwhile, Anthony escorted the makeup kit—still inside its metallic containment box—to the lab.

In the sterile white facility, Senior Researcher Lydil stood ready. She'd already prepped the assessment tube and a thick bed of white sand, used to buffer negative energy and measure spiritual density.

When Anthony arrived, she frowned slightly—surprised by the box's small size.

"This is the cursed item?"

"Yes. At least Level 3, possibly more."

She didn't waste time. Anthony carefully placed the kit inside the giant cylindrical tube, and Lydil initiated the scan.

The room fell silent.

First, the sand began to blacken—then turn to ash.

A low, almost human pounding sound echoed inside the tube, it's like a trapped soul wanting to escape.

The glass began to vibrate—then beeped.

The screen displayed the result:

Negative Energy Level: –623,211,455

Gasps filled the room.

Even Lydil's steady hands trembled.

"Level 5..." she whispered. "This… came from a Level 4 to Level 6 nightmare."

Anthony's expression turned grim.

This was the first Level 5 cursed item ever recovered in the country of Maharlika. Until now, only China, Russia, and Egypt had reported finding one.

Even the United States, the strongest force in the UIP, had yet to secure such an item.

But no one was celebrating.

"And the nightmare that left this... never fought back," Anthony said quietly.

"It just… vanished."

The thought chilled them more than the number ever could.

Lydil gave a final nod.

"Seal it in storage. I'll archive the results."

She opened the containment tube. Anthony retrieved the now-rattling metal box with unsteady hands.

Nearby, researchers gathered the remaining dark red ashes from the sand. These would later be used to create paint—a special coating for concealing.

Anthony walked down the quiet hall, gripping the box tightly. His palms were slick with sweat.

"We came back alive," he muttered. "We shouldn't have."

The storage vault loomed ahead, guarded by five officers—each same level or higher than Anthony.

Inside, the room was massive, windowless, and painted entirely dark red.

The floor was lined with deep sand to absorb any energy leaks.

Anthony stepped onto the central platform and placed the metal box into a locking pedestal.

A thick glass dome lowered automatically, sealing it in.

The lights flickered once.

And then… silence.