Chapter 362: Welcome to the Black Gate

"Standard staggered diamond," I said, taking the seat across from her. "Raphael and Jaime on point since they’re your heavy hitters. Juan in the middle with you for tactical oversight and ranged support. Noah at the rear to watch for flankers." I paused. "Monica stays with me at all times."

"And where will you be in this formation?" Celeste asked.

"Wherever I need to be."

She smiled slightly. "That’s not very specific."

"I’m not a very specific guy."

Monica glanced between us, her fingers nervously stroking the copper leaves of her plant. "What if... what if something goes wrong? Like in the Necropolis?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with unspoken fear. None of us had forgotten what happened in that dungeon—the twisted cathedral, the A-Rank horror that nearly killed us all, the desperate fight to escape.

"Nothing will go wrong," Celeste said with calm certainty.

"But if it does," I added, meeting Monica’s eyes, "you stay behind me. Your job is support, not front-line combat."

"I’m not weak," Monica whispered, the copper leaves of her plant shimmering brighter as her fingers tightened around the pot.

"No," I agreed. "You’re not. But you are valuable, which means I need you alive."

Her eyes widened slightly, then she nodded, a hint of steel entering her gaze. "Understood."

The transport began to slow, and through the windows, I could see VHC security barricades ahead. We’d arrived at the Gate site.

Jaime immediately jumped to his feet, flexing dramatically. "AT LAST! THE FIELD OF HONOR AWAITS US!"

"Sit down before I knock you down," Raphael growled, though there was less heat in it than usual. Pre-mission jitters affected everyone differently. Jaime got louder, Raphael got angrier, and Juan...

Juan looked at me from across the transport, his expression unusually serious for once.

"Something’s wrong," he mouthed silently.

My blood went cold. Juan’s tactical instincts were rarely off.

The transport came to a complete stop, and the driver’s voice crackled over the intercom.

"Onyx Hounds, Team Gamma plus observers, we have arrived at Gate Site 7-C. VHC security forces report stable conditions, with Gate activation occurring approximately three hours ago. You are cleared for entry at your discretion. Good hunting."

Celeste stood, her posture perfect, her expression serene. "Let’s go."

As we filed out of the transport, the afternoon sun beat down on us from a cloudless sky. The Gate site spread out before us—a flat, cleared area surrounding a massive, shimmering tear in reality that hung suspended between two ancient stone pillars.

It looked exactly like the briefing had described. Textbook. Perfect.

Too perfect.

The back of my neck prickled with warning.

Juan stepped up beside me, his voice low. "The stone pillars. They weren’t in the report."

He was right. The briefing had mentioned a standard manifestation zone—flat terrain, no distinguishing features. Nothing about ancient stone structures or anything that might alter the Gate’s properties.

"Eyes open," I murmured to him. "Something’s not right here."

A VHC officer approached, datapad in hand. "Team Gamma? I’ll need verification before you proceed to the Gate."

As Celeste stepped forward to handle the administrative details, I scanned our surroundings. VHC security forces maintained a perimeter about a hundred meters out, their attention focused outward, protecting against civilian intrusion rather than monitoring the Gate itself.

Standard procedure.

But something about those stone pillars kept drawing my attention. They looked old—ancient, even. Weathered by centuries of exposure. Symbols carved into their surfaces that I couldn’t quite make out from this distance.

"Nakano." Celeste’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. "We’re cleared for entry. Are you coming?"

I nodded, adjusting the Bat on my back. "Right behind you."

As Team Gamma assembled in their formation, I caught Monica’s eye and gestured for her to stay close. Her plant glowed brighter in her hands, as if sensing the danger ahead.

Maybe it knew something we didn’t.

The Gate pulsed before us, a swirling vortex of energy that distorted the air like heat waves rising from asphalt. Through its shimmering surface, I could just make out the blurry outline of what waited on the other side—a landscape of some kind.

"Ready?" Celeste asked, her voice steady.

No. None of us were ready. Not for what might be waiting on the other side. Not for the possibility that someone had tampered with this Gate just like they had with the Necropolis.

But we stepped toward it anyway.

The Gate’s surface rippled like water as we passed through, the familiar vertigo washing over me in nauseating waves. My vision blurred, reality shifting and reestablishing itself around us as we emerged on the other side.

"What the hell?" I heard Raphael mutter behind me.

I blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what we were seeing. This wasn’t the balanced ecosystem described in the briefing. Not even close.

We stood on the shore of an impossibly vast lake, its surface mirror-smooth and the deepest shade of indigo I’d ever seen. Twin moons hung in a twilight sky that couldn’t decide if it was dusk or dawn, casting everything in a surreal purple glow. Massive trees with luminescent silver bark dotted the shoreline, their branches heavy with glowing fruit that pulsed in synchronized rhythm.

"This isn’t in the report," Celeste said, her voice unnervingly calm despite the situation.

"No shit," Juan muttered, already pulling out his datapad to scan our surroundings. "This environment is completely anomalous."

Monica clutched Copernicus tighter, and I noticed the copper leaves were now vibrating, almost humming with energy. "The plants here," she whispered. "They’re... singing."

I turned a slow circle, taking in our surroundings. "Jaime, Raphael—establish a perimeter. Noah, watch our six. Monica, stay with me."

Something was very wrong. The briefing had described a standard dungeon layout—corridors, chambers, the usual hunting grounds. This was an open environment, a vast oasis under perpetual twilight, beautiful in a way that made my skin crawl.

Beautiful things in Gates usually killed you fastest.

"We’re leaving," I announced. "Right now."

"But we just got here," Jaime protested.

I ignored him, turning back toward the Gate. "This doesn’t match the briefing. We need to regroup, get new intel before proceeding."

I stepped toward the shimmering portal—

And walked straight into solid air.

I staggered back, stunned. My hand reached out cautiously, finding what felt like an invisible wall where the Gate’s entrance should be.

"What is it?" Celeste asked.

I tried again, pressing both hands against the barrier. Nothing. No give. No way back.

"It’s closed," I said, cold realization spreading through my veins. "We can’t exit."

"That’s impossible," Juan snapped. "Gates don’t seal from the inside unless—"

"Unless it’s a Black Gate," I finished.

The words hung in the twilight air like a death sentence.

Black Gates. Anomalous. Unpredictable. Lethal.

And we were trapped inside one.