RONAN The report came through, but it was not meant for me. The words reached my ears, yet they did not settle. The details slid past my thoughts and I pushed them aside without effort. Worry for Nguyen filled the space instead. His force had crossed the river in the dead of night. They were already moving through the community, checking buildings, watching streets, and keeping their eyes on the bridges. Those few vehicles capable of crossing the river would reach him soon. Until then, Nguyen and the unit he had just formed stood alone. They were the only barrier between the bridge and a direct assault. Once his side was secure, the plan was simple and unforgiving. His people would move fast to the Interlink Highway interchange farther down the road. From there, they would push toward the section of Interlink Highway that crossed over the railroad. They were not meant to fight there. Not yet. Their task was observation. Identify positions. Mark targets. Pass everything back so the main army unit could destroy them when it arrived. Even with that restraint, the danger was high. Every stretch of land had been studied by the insurgents for days. The terrain was familiar to them in a way it never would be to us. Locals likely helped, whether out of fear or loyalty. Ambush points were everywhere. Roads, trees, ridges, abandoned structures. The odds were clear. I might never see Sergeant Nguyen again.That realization settled deep in my chest. It bothered me more than it should have. A short, bitter smirk crossed my face. Everyone else tied to my life was already gone. Family. History. Home. So why did this feel different? Then the truth hit hard. Nguyen was the last person alive who still connected me to my past. Losing him meant losing the final thread that tied me to who I used to be. Major Davis cut through my thoughts. His voice came through my headset, calm, steady, and impossible to ignore. "All units advance on your objectives." The command vehicle surged forward. Electric motors hummed as the heavy armored frame moved toward the bridge, staying well behind the lead vehicles. The vibration traveled through the floor and into my legs. Screens filled my view. Automated mortars on the lighter armored units began firing across the river. Shells arced out and detonated in thick clouds of smoke that rolled outward and swallowed the far bank. Metal particles mixed into the smoke, dense and deliberate. Radar struggled to cut through it. Infrared light from drones and support vehicles flooded the buildings ahead, meant to overload and blind thermal sensors. It was a carefully built screen. Anyone watching would struggle to see us. Anyone trying to target us would be guessing. That mattered most here, at the narrow choke point of the bridge and the steep rise of the riverbanks. The crossing went faster than expected. Far faster. In less than an hour, the entire brigade was across the river. Tension never left my body. Muscles stayed tight. Shoulders locked. Jaw clenched hard enough to ache. Every second felt stretched thin, like a wire ready to snap.Nothing happened. No gunfire. No explosions. When the armor stayed intact, a long breath slipped out without me noticing. A slow stretch followed. My back protested as I forced myself to sit straighter, alert again despite the momentary relief. "Guess they decided not to fight," I muttered, not directing the words at anyone. Victor answered from behind me, his tone steady but wary. "It's a common move. Watch the recon drones. Keep cracking their communications. They will hit us later. They always do." His last words were quieter, almost to himself. My eyes returned to the tactical display. Every soldier and vehicle appeared in clean lines and moving symbols. A frown formed as I studied the flow. "Shouldn't we be clearing the city on both sides of the road instead of pushing straight down the Interlink Highway to the next bridge?" Victor sounded irritated, though he kept his voice controlled. "Forces will be left at all three points. Nothing they have can break that defense. Units at the main bridge and the rail overpass will leave heavy weapons behind. Those teams will guard the crossings." "The main strength sweeps the town from both sides. Hostiles get flushed out and pushed toward the highway interchange. Our people hold the high ground there." "Anyone caught in the open will not last long." The tactical map lit up as he spoke, highlighting each position along the Interlink Highway. The plan was solid. Clean. Ruthless. A nod followed, then a small shrug. Questioning combat planners was not my place. If they challenged my work in AI interdiction, it would irritate me just as much. Strange how fear made it easy to doubt experts when the stakes felt personal. Major Davis suddenly shouted. His voice carried enough force that the headset feed felt unnecessary. "Why wasn't I told about this earlier?" The communications officer shook his head, hands moving fast over his console. "Just came through now, sir. No reason given for the delay." Another curse followed. Fingers tapped sharply against a screen. Davis spoke again, his voice sharp and urgent. "Be advised. National Guard Armory outside Middlesboro was hit last night. Entire equipment stock lost." "Insurgents likely have multiple Pilum launchers." "Warn your units. Keep defenses hot." "Well that's bad," Victor said as the vehicle column approached the Interlink Highway and Tennessee 36 interchange in Highland State."What does that mean?" The question went toward the solid metal wall in front of me since I could not see him. An image appeared on my display. A rocket launcher filled the screen. Below it sat the missile it fired, long and unforgiving. "Inventory says eight CLUs were stored there," Victor said. "Along with thirty-six Pilum missiles." Silence stretched inside the vehicle. The meaning settled in slowly, then all at once. I turned my head, trying to look back at him. "That's bad, isn't it?" The answer did not need words. The coming fight had just become far more dangerous.