RONAN Those same rounds were probably what killed the corporal I had been working beside. That thought sat heavy in my head as I stared toward the tree line. A thick black column of smoke climbed into the sky, dark and oily. It marked the grave of the aircraft the ground defenses had finally brought down. My contact lenses fed me a distance without effort. About a mile and a half. The smoke was already spreading outward. That meant the fire was growing fast, swallowing nearby trees and whatever buildings were still standing. Anyone still alive here would have to move soon. They would have moved anyway. Our position was blown wide open now. Staying would be suicide. Until the unit figured out its next step, there was only one thing that mattered. Finding the people who planned this attack.Standing up took effort. Balance came slowly, like my body was lagging behind my thoughts. Everything tilted. Burst eardrums, most likely. The Glaive must have broken the sound barrier right over the camp. That explained the blast patterns. It explained why I had been thrown like debris. Eyes stayed forward. Looking at the body behind me was not an option. One glance could push me into another panic spiral. Guilt could wait. Grief could wait. There would be time later to drink myself into nothing. For now, there was work to do. Justice was the only thing keeping me upright. I did not care what shape it took anymore. A courtroom would be fine. A rope would also do. Straightening fully sent a strange feeling across my ribs. It took a second to register. The sensation was familiar in a way that made no sense.A memory surfaced from childhood. Fingers playing with my parents’ luggage. The slow vibration of a thick zipper being pulled open. Looking down made everything click. Red spread across my torn shirt. Fabric darkened fast. Lifting it hurt more than it should have. A sharp breath escaped before I could stop it. Protruding from my side was something white and smooth. A rib. Clean and pale like chalk. Blood ran down it in thin streams. Understanding hit all at once. “Son of a bitch,” slipped out before I could think better of it. Pain arrived right after, full force. Teeth clenched hard enough to ache. A scream tried to tear out of my chest, but it stayed trapped. Tears blurred my vision. The right side of my body burned where the rib had broken through skin and met open air. Every breath felt wrong. Shallow. Weak.Panic clawed its way back in. Stars bloomed across my vision. Knees threatened to fold. The ground pulled at me like a magnet. Only fear kept me standing. Hitting the ground with a rib like this could kill me. Movement started without thought. Help had to be close. The camp looked worse up close. Tents lay crushed or shredded. Portable office containers still smoked, their insides blackened from a fire that had only just burned out. Vehicles lined the area like corpses. Bullet resistant glass had shattered anyway, cracked by the pressure wave from the Glaive’s supersonic pass. Soldiers rushed everywhere. No one stopped. Everyone fought flames or dragged equipment. Shouting for directions felt useless. Words barely registered in my own head.The air defense station came into view. The same one that had launched the drones that finally brought the Glaive down. A tall soldier worked the turret. He slammed the magazine lock closed after loading a fresh sleeve of drones. Rank markings caught my eye. Sergeant. “Sergeant,” I said. My voice sounded distant. “Where’s the medical building?” Blood ran down my leg and soaked into the dirt. No response. For a moment, it felt like I had not spoken at all. Sound still felt wrong. The question came again, louder this time. The soldier turned, irritation clear on his face. Eyes dropped to my torso. Everything changed in a heartbeat. The ground rushed up faster than expected. Hands reached for me as the world went dark.***** Blue eyes filled my vision when awareness returned. They were sharp, tired, and painfully familiar. A single strand of blonde hair had slipped free from a tight bun. The rest was pulled back with precision. Certainty settled in. We had never met. Recognition still hit hard. Those eyes were mine. The same ones that stared back from mirrors after everything fell apart. Eyes that had seen too much death too fast. Her mouth twitched into a faint smile before she looked away. “He’s awake,” she said. Her voice was rough with exhaustion. “Keep him still,” another woman replied. She nodded and faced me again. “Mr. Ashcroft, you need to stay calm. We do not have an anesthesiologist here.We are also low on medication, so we could not sedate you. Surgery could not wait. The doctor is almost done sealing the fracture.” Her gaze stayed steady. Serious. Honest. “Any sudden movement could cause more internal bleeding. Please stay still.”