CHAPTER 63: ASTRAL GENESIS GUILD

The Next Morning

Sunlight streamed into the apartment, warm and golden, filtering through the glass panes that overlooked the waking city. I stepped out of my room, freshly showered, wearing a black compression shirt and tactical pants—gear suitable for light training and prep work.

The scent of garlic and eggs hit me instantly.

"You’re cooking again?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Noel glanced over his shoulder from the kitchen, flipping over a golden omelet in the pan. "Yeah. Figured you’d need something decent before prepping for Floor 9. Plus, you didn’t eat much last night before going to bed."

I smirked faintly and sat at the table. "You really took that househusband joke seriously, huh?"

He rolled his eyes. "Eat before I poison it next time."

A moment later, he set the plate down: eggs, fried rice, slices of grilled chicken, and a cup of hot tea. I dug in without argument. I needed the fuel. Tomorrow, I’d step into the 9th floor of the Crimson Rift, and I could already feel the tension building in my bones.

Then, the TV lit up.

"—breaking development for Vassals nationwide."

We both turned our heads.

The screen shifted to a news anchor standing in front of Davao’s government tower, flanked by Rift personnel and high-ranking officials. Behind them, banners fluttered in the wind, etched with silver stars and glowing rune sigils.

"The Philippine Rift Authority, in cooperation with the national government, is officially launching a major new guild initiative right here in Davao City. The organization will be known as the Astral Genesis Guild—an elite force intended to unite powerful Vassals, streamline Rift operations, and bolster regional defense."

Noel dropped into the chair across from me, blinking. "They’re setting up a flagship guild? this fast?"

"According to the briefing, Vassals who have successfully cleared the 3rd Floor or higher will be eligible to join. The government strongly encourages all qualified individuals to apply. Representatives say the guild will serve not just as a combat unit, but a political alliance meant to protect Vassals’ rights and secure Rift economy integration."

I kept eating in silence, but Noel was fully watching now. Then the next line dropped:

"Furthermore," the anchor said, voice rising with significance, "the government has issued a special open invitation to the Vassal currently known only as Blank. If he chooses to join Astral Genesis, he will be offered an exclusive Command Seat, access to classified Rift intel, and a one-time signing bonus of ₱500,000,000."

Noel’s fork clattered onto his plate.

"The hell?" he blurted. "They’re straight-up bribing you now?"

I chewed, slow and unfazed, then swallowed. "They’re not bribing me," I said. "They’re putting a target on my back."

"They’re trying to make it look like you’re working with them," Noel said. "To flush you out."

"Exactly."

"If Blank wishes to claim the seat," the anchor continued, "he must report to the Astral Genesis Guild Headquarters within three days. The invitation will expire after that."

The broadcast shifted to show the concept design of the guild fortress—floating crystal pylons, barrier domes, Rift reactors glowing in symmetrical harmony. It looked secure, powerful, pristine.

And cold.

"They’re trying to pull me into their system," I said, voice flat. "Once I step inside, I’ll never be able to move freely again."

"You’re not joining, right?" Noel asked, still processing.

I stood and turned off the TV. "Of course not."

"Even with half a billion on the table?"

I gave a dry smirk. "I’ve killed entities that could buy nations. I’m not for sale."

Noel blew out a breath, still half-shocked. "You sure know how to make enemies and headlines at the same time."

I turned toward my gear rack and began my preparations—cleaning my gauntlets, re-checking my potion stock, tuning my mana flow with short bursts of control.

The 9th floor wouldn’t be forgiving. Especially not after everything that happened on the 8th.

But this was more than just a survival challenge now.

’The world was trying to label me. Control me. Box me into a system that feared what it couldn’t influence. And I had no intention of being controlled. Not anymore.’

Once everything was packed — my armor reinforced, vials secured, and new gear stashed in inventory — I threw on a plain hoodie over my combat attire and pulled the Faceless Mask halfway across my face.

No flashy entrances today again.

The Lamborghini Huracán sat quietly in the garage, polished, sleek... and far too loud.

Too recognizable.

I didn’t need to make headlines. Not today.

So instead, I stepped out the side entrance of our building and hailed a cab like any regular civilian. The driver barely gave me a glance, likely thinking I was just another worker heading out early. The meter blinked as we pulled away, the city beginning to blur past in hues of steel and glass.

The streets were busy but calm — the eye of the storm, as if the world hadn’t yet caught wind of what I was about to do.

But I could feel it in the air.

Every minute that passed brought me closer to the Rift’s breath — that eerie sensation of space folding in on itself, like a scar on reality trying to pulse shut but failing.

The driver spoke up briefly.

"Crimson Rift, sir? You sure? They say some guy solo-cleared up to floor eight already. Crazy bastard."

I didn’t respond.

He chuckled nervously. "Right... none of my business."

We rode in silence after that.

As the city gave way to open roads and Rift checkpoints, the Crimson Rift came into view — a floating anomaly in the sky. It was a jagged rupture embedded deep in the land — a wound in the earth, wide enough to swallow buildings, its edges pulsing faintly with dark mist.

Like a canyon of bleeding light.

The city had adapted fully. Massive steel fences and containment towers surrounded it, but those didn’t stop the crowds. Dozens of vendors, lower-rank Vassals, scavengers, and media drones had gathered near the boundary. Some traded gear. Others just waited, eyes fixed on the rift’s entrance, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone important entering or exiting.

’They didn’t know the one they were looking for was already here.’