Ryan gritted his teeth as he pulled himself upright, leaning on a jagged piece of his jetpack like a cane. His once-pristine uniform was in tatters, streaked with soot and blood, and small embers still burned along its edges.

From amidst the flames and twisted wreckage, Isaac dragged himself forward, one arm pulling against the ground while the other slapped at the fire licking at his ruined exosuit. Blood and ash smeared his face, and his breathing was labored, but his voice carried a familiar, stubborn energy.

"Ryan!" he rasped, coughing as smoke filled his lungs. "You better not be thinking of leaving me behind..."

Ryan turned sharply, his cold eyes narrowing as he spotted Isaac. Without hesitation, he moved to him, extinguishing the fire on his brother's suit with a swift sweep of his hand. He crouched down and hoisted Isaac onto his back.

"Don't be ridiculous," Ryan coldly quipped, a hint of disappointment and concern creeping into his voice, "'course I won't."

"You've done enough damage for one fight," he continued, his tone clipped.

Isaac's laugh was weak, but it was still there. "Oh, come on. I saved your life... didn't I?"

"You threw yourself into an attack you couldn't win," Ryan replied, his voice like ice. "You're lucky you're not dead."

Isaac slumped against Ryan's back, grinning faintly despite the pain. "Yeah, well... lucky runs in the family, doesn't it?"

A voice cut through the crackling fire. "And here I thought I was the dramatic one."

Ryan turned to see Thomas stumble out of the smoke, his jacket scorched and riddled with holes. He batted at the smoldering fabric with a grimace.

"Ugh, remind me never to dive into parasite territory again," Thomas quipped, his trademark smirk faltering for just a moment. "Turns out 'sneaky' doesn't work on eldritch deity-worshipping cartels. Who knew?"

Ryan's glare darkened. "You should've retreated and coordinated with us."

Thomas shrugged, limping closer. "I did. Sort of. Then I didn't. Then—well, Anthony did his hero thing, and here we are. You're welcome for the extra drama, by the way."

Isaac grinned over Ryan's shoulder. "What's it like being a Dark Emperor mind puppet? Did they make you dance?"

Thomas shot him a tired look. "No, but I'm pretty sure my self-esteem's going to need therapy after this. Not that it was doing great to begin with." He gave a mock bow. "Still, happy to provide comedic relief, as always."

Ryan shifted Isaac's weight on his back, his voice sharp but calm. "You're lucky Anthony pulled you out. Both of you."

Isaac chuckled faintly. "Yeah, but now I get the VIP treatment. Free ride and everything."

Thomas snorted, leaning against a nearby hunk of debris. "Oh, please. If anyone's VIP, it's me. The parasites loved me—had me doing all their dirty work." His smirk turned self-deprecating. "Guess I'm good at being useful to the wrong side."

The comms crackled to life: "All units, regroup at the temporary meeting zone. Medical teams are en route."

Ryan adjusted Isaac again, his movements precise despite his own injuries. "We'll move faster if you keep quiet," he said flatly.

Thomas raised a hand in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. Lead the way, oh fearless leader. I'll just limp along and hope I don't spontaneously combust."

Isaac chuckled weakly, resting his head against Ryan's shoulder. "Hey, Ryan... Think they've got a spare leg in the med bay? I'm kinda short on parts."

"Maybe they can throw in a personality transplant," Ryan muttered.

"Don't tempt me," Thomas chimed in, smirking as he followed. "If they've got a buy-one-get-one deal, I'll take a conscience upgrade while we're at it."

"Geez," Laura thought aloud, watching the trio walk away, bickering and bantering as always, but there was a flicker of warmth in her gaze. "Never knew they were that geeky."

But the warmth quickly faded as she let her eyes drift across the ruins around them. Despite the banter, the weight of the past few days was heavy on her shoulders. She couldn't push the image of Qasim's face from her mind—his eyes, filled with that quiet resolve, before he was taken from them so suddenly. The others were too busy with their own trauma to notice, but Laura felt it more keenly than anyone. "Qasim was supposed to be here. He should be laughing along with us, rolling his eyes at Thomas' dumb jokes..." But he wasn't.

Laura shook her head, pushing the thoughts away as she focused on the present. She needed to stay sharp.

The sound of an armored vehicle rumbling to a stop cut through her thoughts, and she instinctively tensed, her hand brushing the side of her rifle. A new group of TLL operatives descended, stepping through the haze of black smog that seemed to follow them like a dark omen.

And then she saw him—Ares. A tall figure with a sleek, unsettling presence. The android's blue aura cut through the smoke around him, and Laura's chest tightened. There was something about him that unsettled her more than the average threat.

"Mind your own business," Ares spoke with a calm that could freeze the blood of anyone who didn't know better. He wasn't rude, but his words were final, cold—there was no room for argument.

Laura's eyes softened for a moment, but only a moment. She could feel her pulse quicken, a rush of emotion flooding her. Ares was a reminder of everything she had to lose—and everything she already had. His connection to the higher-ups made him a force to be reckoned with, but he also embodied the part of TLL that was far too clinical, too detached from the lives of those who were out there bleeding and dying. She could never be like that.

She turned her gaze toward the wreckage, where her squad's fallen members were buried under the dust and smoke. Qasim's face flashed in her mind again, and it took everything in her to tear her eyes away from the chaos to focus on the present.

Without acknowledging Ares any further, Laura turned and made her way toward the outpost. The air felt heavier with each step, the sound of the world around her seeming to drown out everything else. She was used to moving through the noise, but it didn't make it easier. Her heart still ached for the ones she'd lost—especially Qasim. "He didn't deserve that," she thought bitterly.

As her boots hit the ground with purpose, she muttered to herself, "Hope we get upgrades back at base." The words felt empty even as they left her lips. They'd need it. She'd need it. But it wasn't the tech that would ease the grief gnawing at her. There was no upgrade for that, no patch for the wounds inside.

It was all just a matter of surviving long enough to find the next battle. For now, that's all she could do.

"Hope we get upgrades back at base," she thought to herself, heading back to an outpost to rest.

Ryan said nothing, his focus forward, but his steady steps carried a quiet determination. As the trio disappeared into the smoke, the chaos of the battlefield was left behind, but the weight of what had transpired lingered between them.

The orange glow of the setting sun cast long shadows over the devastated Base 42 Complex Engineering Center. Amir Khan stood atop a pile of rubble, striking a dramatic pose, while Jordan leaned against a column, exhaling a cloud of cigar smoke. Zack was snapping photos of the subdued Umbrìo operatives, tied and bound.

Their victory was shattered by a distant, bone-chilling rumble.

Douglas stormed in, battered and unhinged, energy crackling off his skin, distorting the air around him. His eyes were wide with panic, his usual bravado replaced by terror.

The TLL operatives froze. For the first time, the infamous Umbrìo commander seemed human.

A swirl of black smoke and emerald sparks tore through the air as Anthony appeared, his booming voice filling the space.

"YOU CAN'T RUN FOREVER!"

Before Douglas could react, Anthony's right arm shot through the air, slashing mere inches from his neck.

"GIVE ME ONE CHANCE! PLEASE!" Douglas's voice cracked as he raised his trembling hands. "WE WERE BROTHERS ONCE!"

"ONCE?!" Anthony's voice dripped with venom as his thrusters roared to life. "NEVER!"

With a deadly precision, Anthony detached his waist mechanisms, spinning his body as his blade cleaved through Douglas's shield. The once-impenetrable defense shattered like glass, leaving Douglas exposed, terror etched on his face.

Douglas staggered back, gasping for breath, but Anthony pursued relentlessly.

"AFTER EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE..." Anthony's voice echoed as he vanished in a flash of emerald smoke.

A moment later, Anthony reappeared above him, slamming into the ground with earth-shattering force. Dust and debris filled the air.

Douglas coughed, blood trickling from his lips, and activated his Special Technique. The air warped around him, creating a chaotic, entropic barrier—an impenetrable fortress.

Anthony didn't hesitate.

"YOU ONLY DESERVE DEATH!" he roared, slicing through the barrier like it was paper.

"Huh?" Douglas gasped. "But it takes infinite energy to get through—"

"I DON'T CARE!" Anthony shouted, his hands tearing through the barrier with sheer willpower.

Desperate, Douglas deactivated his Special Technique, redirecting the energy to propel himself high into the air, fleeing once again.

Anthony hurled his blade after him, the weapon humming as it shot through the air before embedding itself in the ground, far from its target.

"BLOODY COWARD..." Anthony muttered, his voice venomous. The Engineering Center fell silent, his back crackling with the residual flames of his wrath.