The Campus Guard is a Retired God of War

Chapter 5

The world was collapsing, but Alistair’s immediate focus was Elena.

She stood rigidly in the grand entrance of the administration building, her sapphire gown shimmering under the emergency lights. Her eyes were fixed on the sky above the docks, where the faint, high-altitude glow of the Star Eater’s gravitational prison was already beginning to fade.

“A piece of me just died,” she repeated, her voice thin and spectral.

Alistair knew the Warden’s threat was real. The contract, tied to the Nexus breach, had activated its penalty clause. Elena hadn’t physically died, but the first sliver of her soul had been harvested to signal the transaction to the High Gods.

He shifted instantly from God of War to Son-in-Law.

“It was the stress, Elena,” Alistair said, his voice dropping to a comforting, almost mundane tone. He gripped her arm, a gesture of grounding rather than affection. “A sensor in your office must have blown, causing a minor electrical shock. You’ve been working too hard on that tenure review.”

He glanced up the magnificent stone staircase. The Warden’s office was on the top floor. Elena’s archeology office, the anchor point for the contract, was directly above the Nexus in the Library wing, just fifty yards away.

I have to get her away from the breach point and the contract before Xylos lands.

“Listen to me,” Alistair insisted, injecting a faint, calming energy pulse through his touch—a forbidden use of his power. “There is a massive police lockdown coming. I need you to go to the safest place on campus, immediately. My old security shack at the West Gate. No one ever checks there. Lock the door and don’t open it for anyone but the Headmaster—or me.”

Elena blinked, the supernatural terror receding, replaced by confusion and frustration. “Your shack? Alistair, the police are hunting that monster, not chasing professors. I need to get back to my office—I have the final drafts of my grant proposal on my desk!”

“No!” Alistair snapped, then instantly softened his tone. “Your proposal isn’t worth your safety. Go now. I’m still technically Head of Security. I have to secure the building.”

She hesitated, then nodded, the sight of the glowing sky overriding her logic. “Fine. But if you get fired again, you’re sleeping on the couch.”

She turned and began to hurry down the path toward the west side of the campus. Alistair watched her go, not moving until her sapphire dress vanished into the tree line. The danger was still immense, but for the moment, the human anchor was safe.

Alistair turned and mounted the stone staircase. Time was a luxury he didn’t have. He channeled a focused, invisible wave of anti-gravity directly beneath his own shoes. He didn't run; he flew, silently rocketing up the stairs two steps at a time. The marble floor flashed beneath his feet.

He reached the Headmaster's office suite on the fifth floor. The heavy oak door was secured with a digital lock.

Alistair paused. He didn't waste time picking the lock. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the humble University Security Badge—the one he had received the previous year as the janitorial-level guard.

He pressed the badge against the scanner.

“Access Denied. Authority Level: 1. Door Access: Level 5.”

Alistair closed his eyes and funneled a precise, infinitesimal trickle of Calamity Star energy into the metallic stripe on the back of the badge. He wasn't rewriting the badge; he was rewriting the scanner's perception of the badge.

“I am the Warden. I am the Nexus. You will obey.”

He pressed the badge again.

BEEP-BEEP-BEEP. ACCESS GRANTED. WELCOME, WARDEN.

The door clicked open.

The Headmaster's office was not an office. It was a spacious, wood-paneled control room. Instead of books, the shelves were lined with humming energy capacitors and ancient, scrolling maps of the ley lines beneath the city. In the center sat the Headmaster, the Janitor, wearing his tattered blue uniform, calmly sipping from a teacup.

The old man didn’t look up. “Sloppy, Alistair. You left scorch marks on my favorite antique carpet, you used a Tier-5 energy containment method to catch a grunt monster, and you bypassed my Level 5 security with a Level 1 clearance badge. All failures.”

Alistair didn't waste words on pleasantries. “Where is the contract, Warden? Xylos will be here in less than two minutes.”

The Warden sighed, setting down his cup. “The contract is a consequence of your pride, Calamity Star. You fell for a mortal, thus breaching the Oath of Exile. The High Gods demand a Soul Tax—Elena’s soul—to ensure you remain bound to this world.”

“I will destroy the contract. Tell me where it is.”

“I can’t. But I can tell you where the binding point is,” the Warden said, gesturing to a small, glowing terminal embedded in his desk. “The contract is written on pure, condensed Abyssal paper. It’s too large to fit in this safe. It is bound to something Elena treasures—her life’s work. Her papers. Her research materials. Her office, directly above the Nexus.”

Alistair’s mind raced. Elena’s office—the point closest to the breach. He had just sent her away, but her research was still there. If the contract was physically bound to her desk, he had to get there now.

“You are a betrayer,” Alistair stated, channeling the cold rage of a thousand battles.

The Warden shrugged, sadness in his eyes. “I am a jailer, Alistair. My life’s work is to contain you. Your choice to love a mortal was the key to my success. Now go. You have sixty seconds before Xylos breaks your little gravity filament and rips open the Nexus.”

Alistair didn't hesitate. He launched himself out of the office and raced down the corridor toward the Library wing, his mind already formulating a strategy. He could hear it now—a sound like a billion pieces of granite grinding together—the roar of Xylos tearing free.

He burst into the Library wing and found the stairs leading up to the faculty offices. He heard the screaming of metal and glass from outside—Xylos had broken through the temporary field and was now engaging the foolish, but brave, Crimson Shield convoy Victor Lei had sent.

He slammed open the door to Elena’s office. It was a small room cluttered with ancient maps, scrolls, and dusty archaeological texts. On her central desk sat a massive, leather-bound portfolio—her grant proposal detailing the “Hidden History of the Horizon Imperial Site.”

Alistair approached the portfolio. It was radiating a faint, sickening green glow—the same color as the Abyssal energy Jin had channeled.

The contract is inside.

He reached out to grab it, but a voice echoed in his head—the voice of the Warden, projected directly into his consciousness: “Careful, Alistair. The contract is designed to shatter upon removal from its binding point. If it shatters here, the soul debt is instantly finalized.”

It’s a trap within a trap, Alistair realized. He couldn’t move the contract, but he couldn't leave it here for Xylos to absorb.

He frantically scanned the room for a solution—a piece of suppressed technology, a forgotten relic. He found nothing.

Then, the floor below him screamed.

Xylos had arrived at the Nexus. The entire Library building shook violently as the massive, shard-covered hands of the Star Eater ripped through the ground floor, tearing away the stone facade to get at the seal.

Alistair looked out the window. Xylos’s face, a terrible vortex of violet light, was looking directly up, straight at Elena’s office.

The monster wasn't looking at the building; it was looking at the binding point. It was coming for the energy source, and Elena’s soul would be collateral damage.

In the chaos, Alistair’s hand brushed against the single remaining artifact in his possession—the now-inert Void Anchor chip that had created the gravity filament. It was useless now; its charge was spent.

No. It's not useless.

Alistair slammed his fist onto the Void Anchor chip, injecting the absolute last dregs of his Calamity Star energy—the energy that was stabilizing his own mortal shell. It was a move of desperation.

The Void Anchor chip, instead of creating a gravitational field, created a single, terrifying blast of dimensional inertia. It was a massive counter-force, powerful enough to momentarily halt any inter-dimensional entity.

The blast didn't hit Xylos. It hit the Nexus Seal itself.

The Seal, already compromised by the Shadow Beast attack, groaned and then, impossibly, closed. Not fully, but just enough—a temporary, momentary seal that would last perhaps thirty seconds.

Xylos, reaching for the energy with its massive claw, recoiled with a primal roar of confusion and pain. The thirty seconds of peace were purchased at a terrible cost: Alistair’s mortal body seized, his skin turning ash-gray as the last of his stabilizing energy was spent. He collapsed beside the desk.

The sudden, violent shock of the Seal closing instantly rebounded the Abyssal energy in Elena’s office. The leather portfolio, the contract binding point, flared with sickening green light.

Alistair tried to crawl toward it, his muscles failing. He could hear the Star Eater smashing its way through the campus, roaring for its energy source.

A shadow fell over the office door. Not Xylos's shadow, but a human one.

The door creaked open, and there stood Elder Zhang, Elena’s father—the man who had repeatedly tried to get Alistair fired. Elder Zhang, dressed in a pristine white suit, looked down at the collapsed, gasping security guard.

“I heard the noise, Cain. Did you manage to find Elena’s grant proposal? Excellent,” Elder Zhang said, his eyes gleaming with cold, terrifying ambition. “I knew you were useless, but I didn't know you were the key.”

He reached down, not for the contract, but for Alistair's wrist.

“You’re out of power, Calamity Star,” Elder Zhang sneered. “The Warden promised the High Gods the soul, but he promised me the reward: the ability to wield the power that killed you. Thank you for closing the Seal temporarily. Now, watch as I take everything you love.”

He didn't take the portfolio. Elder Zhang ripped the Ring of the Falling Star from Alistair’s finger, instantly absorbing the vast, volatile residual energy stored within it.

Elder Zhang's form blurred. The power was too much for a mortal, but he stabilized it instantly, his eyes glowing green. He had attained Tier-4 Cultivation instantly.

He looked down at Alistair, who was now utterly defenseless, his soul essence flickering dangerously low.

"I tried to get you fired because you were the only thing that could stop me. And now, you can't," Elder Zhang whispered, before turning toward the glowing leather portfolio, ready to seize the contract.