"Caroline! Happy to see us?" ... A group of grimy-faced soldiers, clad in sweat-soaked tank tops and clutching entrenching tools, grinned down from above the glass shield. They shouted anything and everything, each wearing that proud, boyish smirk. Their youth and energy carved through the packed earth above, letting more and more light spill down onto the people below. One young soldier, fascinated by the glass shield, even pressed his face against it and made a goofy face at the people trapped underneath. After the initial shock, Denton joined right in, squishing his cheeks against the barrier and pulling faces back at them. Both sides were laughing like kids at recess. Colonel Sutton stood above, the stem of some weed he'd probably just dug up clenched between his teeth. He snapped a crisp salute toward Caroline. "Colonel Francis Sutton, deployed by Commander Ball to provide support. Hope we're not too late. Sit tight, we'll have this whole section cleared and you out of there in no time." Then he shot her a bright, cocky look, lifted a hand, and barked, "Alright! Eyes up! Back to work!" "Yes, sir!" Their unified shout shook the ground. The same soldiers who had been goofing around a second ago snapped into formation, then bent back to digging with fierce determination. Watching them, Caroline felt a slow smile curve her lips. In the midst of this chaos, with the world literally crumbling, the army had remembered her. They'd diverted valuable resources, all for her. The earthquake was over, but the devastation was still raw. If their side had suffered this much, military bases would've been hit even harder. They had to be drowning in crises of their own. The wave of gratitude that hit her was profound. She'd helped them before, sure. Saved their skins a few times. But the army had a duty to the masses, not to four survivors trapped underground. They had excavators running, manpower spread thin, resources bleeding. "Because you're worth it, Caroline," Tyler said quietly from beside her, as if reading the conflict on her face. "And because men like Colonel Sutton and Commander Ball remember their debts. What we did before ... it mattered." Caroline paused, then slowly lifted her hand toward the glass ceiling where sunlight filtered through, letting that warm, gentle light spill across her palm. "Yeah," she said, her smile deepening. "It did." The irony wasn't lost on her. In her first life—her previous, brutal decade in the wasteland—she'd also done things that seemed like they should matter. They never did. Her kindness had been weaponized against her. Her efforts turned into a punchline that ended with an early grave. This time, she'd moved with calculated caution. But even after ten brutal years in the last apocalypse, she'd kept a spark of something human alive. Not naivete, not self-sacrificial stupidity, but a core principle: Protect yourself fiercely, but don't become the monster you're hiding from. She had saved Kay back then. She'd rationalized it at the time, kept telling herself that she was doing it because she "needed a loyal ally", "a counterbalance to Tyler". But the truth was simpler: Kay's stubborn defiance was so humanely beautiful. It struck her. Her dealings with the army had always been mercenary on the surface, all hard bargains and calculated trades where she usually came out ahead. But in the end, the army still benefited more. Every time she'd saved them, she'd done so with the clear logic of saving herself first and "when the nest falls, no egg survives". She never played the hero nor dwelt on the debt. She never once thought she was owed anything for it. Before she acted, she found her reasons and moved with a clear head. Afterwards, she didn't keep score. She just moved on. Yet the army kept insisting they owed her. That they were in her debt, that they wanted to give her their best. This life, she'd vowed to live by her own rules, for herself. Yet, having that choice repaid like this, with this utterly unexpected rescue ... it felt less like a transaction and more like a gift.Her chest felt warm—almost painfully full. The validation spread through her, a complex mix of relief, vindication, and a tiny but profound happiness. This time... This time was different. This life was better. Another half hour passed. The upper layers were mostly cleared, though the base itself remained buried. Caroline called up, telling Colonel Sutton to pull his team back from this section. This was enough space for her to retract the glass shield and for them to climb out. As for the mobile base itself... It could go back into her storage space for now. Jasper had mentioned it needed a complete overhaul anyway. Perfect chance to let him and the space reforge it while the group stayed elsewhere for a few days.