Chapter 274: The Message That Broke the Corps
One of the large hangars at the Rejected Corps base had been repurposed into a makeshift canteen. The once-empty space now buzzed with the clatter of cutlery and low murmurs of conversation. Though most of the base’s members were trained for combat, not every military role revolved around fighting. A few had experience in the kitchen, enough to keep the rest fed and functional.
A long metal counter had been set up at the far end, where steam rose from buffet-style trays. The scent of hot food filled the air, simple, hearty meals served in deep, dented trays. Members moved through the line, helping themselves to whatever they needed, be it a mountain of carbs or just enough to take the edge off their hunger.
Rows of sturdy wooden tables and benches had been dragged into the space, creating a communal atmosphere. Sitting shoulder-to-shoulder, Rejected Corps soldiers ate in groups, some engaged in loud debates, others quietly chewing through exhaustion. Among them sat Na, hunched slightly forward, a plate in front of him stacked high with nothing but meat, an intimidating mountain of roasted protein.
One of the nearby members stared at his plate in mock horror, raising a brow.
"I get that protein’s important and all, but seriously... how many poor chickens had to die for that single meal?"
Na didn’t even glance up as he tore into a drumstick. "You care about chickens," he said, voice dry and low, "but you don’t bat an eye when it comes to taking someone’s life. If that’s how you felt, maybe you should’ve been a farmer."
"Farmers kill animals too, you know," another chimed in, grinning. "If you wanted the moral high ground, ’vet’ would’ve made more sense."
Laughter rippled through the group. The air was rowdy, the banter typical. It was how they coped, sarcasm, jabs, and gallows humor. But as the noise settled, the tone shifted, drifting toward the unease that hovered just beneath the surface.
"I heard the General still hasn’t gotten in contact with Max," one of the men said, leaning in slightly as if trying not to speak too loudly. "Is that true, Na?"
There was no immediate answer from Na. He simply kept eating, chewing through his meal like nothing had been said. But the silence, that told them everything.
"Crap, he’s still going on about that?" one of the men groaned, throwing his hands up. "Are we seriously still this hung up over that Max kid? I mean, sure, the guy can fight, but at this point, I’m starting to wonder if the General’s got a crush or something."
Another member leaned forward, voice lowering but laced with irritation. "Why don’t we just deal with the girl already? Send a message. Make the world remember what the Rejected Corps stands for. Remind them what fear really is."
"If people catch wind that we’re putting this much effort into chasing after one kid," a third said, scoffing, "they’ll think we’ve gone soft. Especially the Chalk Line boys. You know they’re always watching, just waiting for a slip."
"I heard we’re close to striking a deal," someone else added, trying to keep the tension from escalating, "but it could fall apart at any second. That’s why everyone needs to stay ready."
"Exactly!" the first one snapped back. "Which is why this whole damn thing is a waste of time. Forget the kid. Forget the games. We’ve got bigger things to worry about than one stupid brat."
Na kept his head down and continued to eat, never once raising his voice or offering a response. He listened to every word, letting their frustrations fill the air. But he didn’t correct them. He didn’t shut them up. Because deep down, a part of him understood, he shared their distractions. Their doubts.
Was it possible that Chrono didn’t trust them? Didn’t believe in their strength? In his strength?
Meanwhile, far from the noise of the hangar, Chrono sat alone, tapping his finger anxiously against the edge of his comms device. His eyes hadn’t moved from the screen in minutes, not since reading the troubling message he’d received.
A message from Dud.
And whatever it said... it had shaken him.
I’ve tried reaching out to Dud so many times, Chrono thought, his fingers drumming restlessly against the table. He hasn’t answered a single call, hasn’t even opened my last few messages... and then out of nowhere, he sends me this?
His gaze dropped back to the message on his screen. The words glared back at him, more unsettling with each passing second. It wasn’t just what the message said, it was the fact that it had come from Dud in the first place.
Dud was... different. Always had been. Chrono prided himself on being able to read people, to understand what drove them. That ability was what had helped him form the Rejected Corps in the first place. But Dud had always been a challenge. He wasn’t unreadable, just unpredictable.
Still, Chrono had assumed he’d managed to keep Dud close enough to anticipate his moves.
And Max... Max was another story entirely.
From the beginning, Chrono had suspected he might turn. That was why he’d taken Abby, collateral, leverage, a line that Max hopefully wouldn’t be foolish enough to cross. But even now, Chrono hadn’t told anyone, not even Dud, that Abby was in their hands. He hadn’t reached out to Max. No contact, no threats, no moves yet.
So what betrayal was Dud talking about?
Confused and unsettled, Chrono decided to keep the development to himself, for now. The others were already tense and opinionated. If word got out that there were fractures among their ranks or that Max was stirring things from the outside, it would only ignite the powder keg.
He typed out a quick reply, asking Dud for more information.
Moments passed in silence. Then, his screen lit up again.
Max has been planning things behind our back. He was at the Black Hounds event. He’s teamed up with them, and attacked me. Can’t talk right now.
Short. Blunt. But it was enough.
Chrono’s jaw tensed. Max had aligned himself with the Black Hounds?
That wasn’t just bold, it was reckless.
He sat back in his chair, mind racing through scenarios. The Black Hounds were already on his radar, a growing problem he’d been keeping tabs on. But Max, working with them? That complicated everything. Not just because of Max’s potential, but because of what it meant strategically. Emotionally.
Why would Max go that far? Was he trying to declare war? Or was he being dragged into something bigger than he could handle?
Either way, Chrono couldn’t ignore it anymore.
He leaned forward, eyes narrowed, already calculating his next move.
Chrono clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table as the weight of the situation sank in.
Max wasn’t from this world. He hadn’t grown up in back alleys or gang-run neighborhoods. He was a teenager, a school kid, smart, sure, capable even, but no school kid could just walk up to a group like the Black Hounds and expect to hold a conversation, let alone form an alliance. Not without something major to offer. Not without someone opening the door.
There’s no way this just happened overnight, Chrono thought, his mind racing. If what Dud is saying is actually true, then Max must’ve barely made it out alive. Dammit... this couldn’t have come at a worse time.
He stood from his seat, pacing the small room, his thoughts a storm of second-guessing and half-formed strategies.
We were already stretched thin. I was planning to finalize a deal with the Chalk Line boys, maybe even coordinate a move against the Black Hounds. That was the long-term goal. But now? With Dud injured and Max on their side... we’re backed into a corner.
Chrono ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. What he needed now, more than anything, was time. Time to think. Time to gather information. Time to piece together a response that wouldn’t shatter everything they’d built.
But time wasn’t something he was going to get.
Because even as Chrono stood there, trying to map out his next step, Dud was already making his move, one that would shake the entire foundation of the Rejected Corps.
Without waiting for permission or backup, Dud had made his decision. The moment he’d sent that message to Chrono, something inside him had snapped. His loyalty, once tested, had finally broken. He was no longer acting as a soldier in the Rejected Corps.
He was acting as a man seeking vengeance.
And with that decision came one final push to set things in motion.
Across the base, every single member of the Rejected Corps heard the buzz or chime of their devices. Phones lit up. Conversations halted. Silence swept through the hangar and the dorms alike as they read the message at once.
A single sentence. Just five words.
Max has betrayed us.