The summons came with the stark impersonality of officialdom: a curt message flashing on Ethan’s worn Omni-Slate, ordering his immediate presence at the Ascendant Guild's Westgate Deployment Center. No explanation, no pleasantries, just the unwavering directive that he present himself ready for active duty. He knew what it meant. Shortage. Bad news for everyone, especially someone like him.

Ethan sighed, pushing aside the half-eaten nutrient paste – his breakfast, lunch, and often dinner – and resigned himself to the inevitable. He splashed cold water on his face, trying to scrub away the permanent exhaustion that clung to him like a shroud. He wasn’t a morning person, and the looming threat of a high-level Rift raid did little to improve his mood.

The Deployment Center buzzed with a frenetic energy. Ascendants, a mixed bag of seasoned veterans and nervous rookies, milled about, checking equipment, exchanging anxious glances, and trying to project an air of confidence they probably didn’t feel. The air crackled with barely contained power, the combined aura of individuals blessed (or cursed) with abilities beyond human comprehension. Ethan, as always, felt like an imposter amongst them, a flickering candle in a room full of floodlights.

He located Captain Thorne near the briefing platform. Thorne, a man sculpted from granite and perpetually simmering with impatience, barely glanced at him as Ethan approached.

"Blackwood," he barked, his voice a low rumble. "You're with Crimson Guard on this one. We're shorthanded. No time for explanations. Just follow orders and try not to get yourself killed."

Ethan swallowed, a knot forming in his stomach. Crimson Guard. He usually tagged along with that squad for the most trivial of tasks, essentially cleanup duty after the *real* Ascendants had dealt with the heavy hitters. But this... this felt different. The urgency in Thorne’s voice, the grim set of his jaw, spoke volumes.

He scanned the platform, finding Maya already there, meticulously checking her bow and arrows. She caught his eye and offered a small, almost pitying smile. "Looks like someone's moving up in the world, Echo," she said, her voice laced with a mixture of concern and wry amusement. "Try not to get lost."

The briefing hologram flickered to life, projecting a pulsating crimson vortex – a newly opened Rift, designated KR-Omega-9. A harsh, static-laced voice filled the room, belonging to a Guild analyst, his face a blurry pixelated image.

"KR-Omega-9 exhibits exceptionally high levels of ethereal instability. The initial incursion wave consisted primarily of Class-3 and Class-4 entities, but recent scans indicate a potential for Class-5 manifestations. Environmental hazards include localized gravity fluctuations and sporadic energy surges."

Class-5. Ethan’s blood ran cold. He had never even seen a Class-5 entity, let alone fought one. They were the stuff of nightmares, creatures of unimaginable power and horrifying design. Facing one usually required a team of elite Ascendants, not… him.

"Given the escalating threat level, Crimson Guard will be tasked with reconnaissance and containment," the voice continued. "Your primary objective is to secure a stable foothold and prevent further escalation of the incursion. Support teams will follow as soon as possible. Good luck. You'll need it."

The hologram vanished, leaving the room in a heavy silence. Thorne cleared his throat. "Alright, Crimson Guard, move out! Let’s show these Rift-spawn what we're made of!"

The Crimson Guard, consisting of Thorne, Maya, a hulking brute named Garret who specialized in brute force, a nimble energy manipulator named Zara, and now, Ethan, boarded a Guild transport – a heavily armored vehicle designed to withstand the chaotic forces of the Rifts. As the transport rumbled towards the Westgate, Ethan stared out the reinforced window, his mind racing. He was out of his depth. Dangerously so.

The Westgate loomed like a scar across the landscape, a sprawling complex of reinforced concrete and shimmering energy barriers. It was here that humanity stood defiant against the encroaching darkness, holding back the tide of monstrous horrors that sought to consume their world.

The transport screeched to a halt at the Rift's staging zone. The air thrummed with raw power, the very ground vibrating with unseen energies. The stench of ozone and decay hung heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the horrors that lay beyond the shimmering energy field protecting the gate.

Thorne led the team through the activation portal. The world shimmered and dissolved around them, replaced by a landscape that defied all reason.

The Rift was a nightmare rendered real. Twisted, gnarled trees clawed at the sky, their branches adorned with pulsating, bioluminescent fungi. The ground was a churning morass of decaying vegetation and viscous, unidentified fluids. The air tasted of metal and rot. Gravity seemed to shift and waver unpredictably, making movement difficult and disorienting.

And then there were the creatures.

They emerged from the shadows, grotesque parodies of life. Hulking, chitinous monstrosities with razor-sharp claws and eyes that burned with malevolent intelligence. Slithering, tentacled horrors that oozed across the ground, leaving trails of corrosive slime. Flying, winged demons that shrieked with unholy glee.

The Crimson Guard opened fire, unleashing a barrage of energy blasts, arrows, and brute force. Thorne’s energy hammer slammed into the chest of a towering creature, sending it crashing to the ground with a sickening thud. Maya's arrows pierced the eyes of a slithering horror, causing it to writhe in agony. Garret roared as he charged into the fray, his fists a blur of devastating blows. Zara manipulated energy, creating shields and blasting down anything that got too close.

Ethan, as always, lagged behind, his powers proving frustratingly ineffective. He tried to mimic Thorne's energy hammer, but the resulting burst of power was a pathetic flicker compared to the captain's devastating strikes. He attempted to replicate Maya's accuracy with energy projectiles, but his aim was clumsy and his attacks lacked punch. He was a pale imitation of the real thing, a useless echo in the symphony of destruction.

He managed to take down a few of the weaker creatures, but he knew he was more of a liability than an asset. He scrambled to keep up with the rest of the team, his heart pounding in his chest, desperately trying not to get in the way.

Then, the tide turned.

A wave of larger, more powerful creatures emerged from the shadows, overwhelming the Crimson Guard's defenses. Thorne was knocked off his feet by a massive tentacled beast. Maya was surrounded by a pack of ravenous, dog-like demons. Garret was grappling with a monstrous, crab-like creature, his roars of pain echoing through the chaotic landscape. Zara was desperately trying to hold back the onslaught with her energy shields, but they were beginning to crack and shatter under the relentless assault.

"We're being overrun!" Thorne roared, his voice strained. "Fall back! Fall back to the rendezvous point!"

The Crimson Guard began to retreat, fighting a desperate rearguard action. But in the chaotic scramble, they became separated. Ethan found himself alone, cut off from the rest of the team, surrounded by a swarm of grotesque creatures.

Panic threatened to consume him. He knew he couldn't survive this. He was too weak, too inexperienced, too… useless. He raised his Omni-Slate, desperately trying to contact Thorne or Maya, but the signal was jammed by the Rift's chaotic energies.

He was on his own.

A hulking, reptilian creature lunged at him, its jaws snapping, its eyes burning with predatory hunger. Ethan dodged, barely managing to avoid the creature's attack. He stumbled backward, tripping over a gnarled root. He fell to the ground, his breath catching in his throat.

The creature loomed over him, its shadow blocking out the already dim light. It lowered its head, its jaws opening wide, ready to deliver the killing blow.

Ethan closed his eyes, bracing himself for the end. He had always known he would die like this: alone, insignificant, a casualty of the endless war against the Rifts.

But then, something unexpected happened. A surge of pure, raw power coursed through him, flooding his veins with energy. He felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation, a tingling warmth that spread from his core to the tips of his fingers. It was as if something ancient and powerful was awakening within him, something that had been dormant for years, waiting for the right moment to emerge.

He opened his eyes, and the world looked different. Sharper, clearer, more vibrant. He could feel the energy flowing around him, the chaotic currents of the Rift, the life force of the creatures that surrounded him.

He knew, somehow, that everything was about to change.

But for Maya, Thorne, Garret and Zara, they were left to fend for themselves. The situation was dire. Garret had lost an arm when defending Zara from a sneak attack. Zara exhausted from trying to protect her allies. Captain Thorne left for dead, bleeding out somewhere. Maya, the most mobile and perhaps resilient, had managed to find somewhere to bunker down and hide, awaiting rescue or a chance to get revenge against what she assumed to be their collective demise.