Rush sat on the edge of his bunk, the image of the General’s empty chair in the command center burned into his mind. The man had been a hardass, but he’d been their hardass. He’d given Rush a purpose, a place where his skills mattered beyond his tragic past. Now, that anchor was gone. His eyes landed on Strawberry. She was sitting on her assigned bunk, legs dangling, not reading, not sleeping, just… existing. She looked small, but not vulnerable. It was a different kind of small. A contained kind. Yet, in the quiet aftermath of loss, Rush saw something he hadn’t before: a profound, ancient loneliness. It mirrored his own. He wasn’t good with people. He was good with data, with plans, with the clean logic of a mission parameter. But something compelled him to stand up and walk over to her. “Hey,” he said, his voice sounding rougher than he intended. She looked up, her expression its usual serene blank slate. “This place is… grim,” he stated, gesturing vaguely at the steri

The "usual place" was a small, unassuming coffee shop with outdoor seating, a neutral ground. Kyle arrived first, choosing a table in the corner where the morning sun was warm but not blinding. He nursed a black coffee, his senses on high alert, every nerve ending buzzing with a tension that had nothing to do with caffeine. Sophie arrived exactly at noon. She moved with an efficient, purposeful grace, her posture perfect in a tailored business suit that looked out of place in the casual café. Her hair was pulled back in a severe ponytail, and her eyes, so like their mother’s, were hidden behind sleek, reflective sunglasses. She sat down without a greeting, placing her tablet on the table between them like a shield. “Kyle,” she said, her voice a cool, professional monotone. “Sophie,” he replied, matching her tone. “You look… busy.” “I am.” She signaled a waiter and ordered an espresso. “How are you?” The question was so robotic, so devoid of genuine interest, it was almost

Johnny and Axel pushed through the heavy doors of the HQ barracks, the scent of greasy pizza and street food still clinging to them, a stark contrast to the sterile, recycled air. The brief illusion of a normal afternoon had been thoroughly shattered by the acidic puddle of snail monster goo. "Next time, I'm picking the date spot," Axel grumbled, though the edge in her voice was dulled by the shared, absurd experience. "Somewhere with less… spontaneous interdimensional fauna." "Hey, it was memorable!" Johnny countered, a grin finally returning to his face. "And you have to admit, you looked pretty awesome wielding that pizza stand. Very… rustic chic warrior." Before Axel could retort, they spotted Carter emerging from the command center, her face pale and drawn. She looked like she hadn't slept, the weight of the secret she carried clear in the tightness around her eyes. "Hey, you two," she said, her voice tired. "I heard you checked in. Everything okay?" Johnny’s grin widened.

The drive to Samantha’s apartment felt longer than it was. Carter’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, the image of the General’s comm log burned onto the back of her eyelids. Each city block that passed was a reminder of the normal world that was blissfully unaware of the rot festering at its highest levels. She practiced her smile in the rearview mirror a tight, fragile thing that didn’t reach her eyes. She had to be strong for them. For Kyle. She could break the news, but she wouldn’t break the evening. She parked the car, took a deep, steadying breath, and fixed the smile back on her face before walking up to Sam’s door. It swung open before she could knock. Samantha stood there, her face a mirror of the concern Carter was trying to hide. “Carter!” she exclaimed, pulling her into a warm, fierce hug. “Are you okay? We heard about the alert downtown.” The genuine care in Sam’s voice almost cracked Carter’s composure. She hugged back, drawing strength from the em

The summons to HQ the next morning was a cold splash of reality. The team assembled in the command center, the air still heavy with the unspoken truth Carter carried and the residual anger Kyle radiated. Johnny and Axel stood side by side, the easy camaraderie from their playground battle replaced by a somber professionalism. Lieutenant General Miranda Hernandez stood before them, her face a granite mask of grief and resolve. "The fight continues," she began, her voice raspy but firm. "Satellite sweeps have picked up a new anomalous energy signature. Deep. In the Mariana Trench. Deeper than any submersible we have can go. The signature matches the anchors." She let that sink in. "Preparing a suitable vessel and team will take time. A week. But that is your next objective." She paused, her gaze sweeping over each of them, lingering on Kyle's stony expression. "But before that... there is a duty we must perform. General burial is in one week. Full military honors. All squads, all d