AARON Now the rest of my group and I stood on the roof of a hotel beside the Interlink Highway interchange. Cold wind moved across the open space, carrying distant smells of smoke and dust. From this height, the roads below looked like thin gray lines cutting through the city. Everyone was present except Elliot. We were here to watch the army cross the bridge and force open the path ahead. Once that happened, we would have a chance to move across the river and begin spreading our message to the communities waiting on the far side. Elliot could not stand with us. His body was still weak from surgery. He was resting inside the Mobile Hauler, asleep and unaware of the tension building outside.Part of me was grateful he was not here to witness this. Another part wished he was awake, standing beside us, sharing the weight of what was about to happen. “Are they going to use the heavy weapons on the far side of the bridge?” Marcus Hale asked. His voice carried a mix of worry and curiosity as he scanned the horizon. Nathan shook his head without hesitation. “I doubt it. There are still normal people over there. Families in houses. Workers in shops. High explosives do not know the difference between targets and civilians.” A slow nod followed as my eyes stayed locked on the bridge. “Ronan Ashcroft told me they would use them once they figured out where the insurgents were operating from.” Nathan let out a low grunt, almost a laugh. “That is the kind of information sharing I can respect.” My attention drifted across the land toward where the I-81 crossed the Holston River near Ravenport, Highland State.From this distance, everything looked still. Buildings stood untouched. Roads were quiet. The calm felt false, like a held breath before a scream. “They have been lied to and pushed into this,” I said. “Just like the rest of us. Americans should not be killing Americans.” A short chuckle broke the moment. I turned toward Nathan, irritation creeping up inside me. “You disagree,” I said. “Aaron, you really want to know the difference between you and those future pit stuffers?” Nathan asked. “Sure,” I replied, letting him speak. Nathan placed both hands on the low wall that edged the roof and leaned forward, looking down instead of at me. “You actually believe what you just said. Those people honestly think anyone who does not agree with them is not American. In their minds, everyone else is already the enemy. The only thing separating them from the people running this whole mess is intelligence.”Words formed in my throat, but they never made it out. Sharp cracks of gunfire rolled across the distance. The sound was fast and violent, echoing off concrete and steel. Thick black smoke began to rise in several places near the bridge. It climbed upward in heavy columns, spreading wide as it darkened the sky. Lucas reacted instantly. He jumped up and down, pointing toward the fighting with wide eyes, caught up in the movement and noise. Guilt hit me hard. Lucas did not understand what was happening. He saw action, not death. Noise, not suffering. The worst part was knowing we had brought him here. No one had stopped to think about shielding him from this. Instead, we had placed him on a rooftop to watch people kill each other from a distance. I started to move toward him, but Elena reached him first. She rested a gentle hand on Lucas’s shoulder. The exhaustion on her face was impossible to miss. Dark circles sat beneath her eyes, and her posture sagged from too many sleepless nights. Her voice was steady as she spoke to him. She told him this was not something to celebrate. This was a sad moment. People were going to die on both sides. Every life lost meant one less person who could help rebuild what was broken. Each death meant another family filled with anger and grief over someone they loved. Lucas did not say anything. He stopped moving and stood still. Some of her words reached him. He rose onto his tiptoes, watching quietly as smoke continued to rise far away. Elena walked back to me.An arm slipped around her shoulders, pulling her close. She leaned into my side, placing much of her weight against me, trusting me to keep her upright. The sounds of battle grew sharper and more frequent, carried toward us on the wind. Standing there, holding my wife while my son watched from a distance, one thought refused to leave my mind. When the noise finally stopped and the smoke cleared, would there be anyone left to hear the message we were risking everything to share?