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Chapter 95: The Ones We Answer To
Reed had learned how to move like Vanguard.What he hadn’t learned yet was how to forget Echo Unit.The names followed him everywhere—etched into muscle memory, whispered in the back of his mind whenever he closed his eyes. Captain Daniel Mercer’s steady voice. Sergeant Lucas Hale’s dry humor masking constant vigilance. Ben Ortiz’s quiet patience. Lieutenant Aaron Pike’s measured intelligence.They were ghosts now.Not dead.Just far away.And that somehow hurt more.Reed stood at the edge of the training yard as dusk settled over the base, rifle slung across his chest, boots planted shoulder-width apart. Around him, Vanguard trainees moved with sharp efficiency, their motions clean, aggressive, unquestioning.He matched them perfectly.That was the problem.“Reed.”The voice cut through his thoughts.He turned to see Carter approaching, helmet tucked under one arm, sweat streaking his temples. Carter had always been solid—reliable in a fight, fast to follow orders. But lately there w
Chapter 94: Learning the Language of Wolves
Reed requested reinstatement the next morning.He didn’t argue.He didn’t justify.He stood at attention outside Briggs’s office, spine straight, expression carefully neutral, and waited until he was acknowledged.Briggs looked up from his desk slowly, like a man savoring the moment.“Well,” Briggs said, leaning back in his chair. “If it isn’t our resident conscience.”Reed didn’t react.“I’m requesting to rejoin full training rotation, Sergeant,” Reed said evenly.Briggs raised an eyebrow. “That so?”“Yes, Sergeant.”Briggs studied him for a long moment, eyes sharp and calculating. “And why would I allow that?”Reed swallowed once, then spoke the words Granger had warned him would hurt.“I misunderstood the objective,” Reed said. “I won’t make that mistake again.”The silence that followed was heavy.Briggs leaned forward slightly. “Explain.”Reed kept his gaze level. “I let personal judgment interfere with execution.”Briggs smiled.It wasn’t a kind smile.“That,” Briggs said, stand
Chapter 93: Quiet isn't Safe
Reed didn’t sleep.He lay on his back in the dark barracks, staring at the ceiling while the air hummed with the low breathing of exhausted men. Somewhere across the room, someone muttered in their sleep. Another man coughed once, harsh and dry.Reed kept his eyes open anyway.Because now he understood the difference between exhaustion and vulnerability.Exhaustion made your limbs heavy.Vulnerability made your mind careless.And carelessness was what Vanguard fed on.He replayed Granger’s words over and over until they felt like a chant.They disappear. Nobody knows where.You’re being evaluated.For elimination.Reed swallowed hard, throat dry. He turned his head slightly, staring at the empty bunk across from him—one of the ones that had belonged to a guy named Foster before “transfer” orders took him away.No one said Foster’s name anymore.No one asked.No one even looked at the empty mattress.That was how it happened.A man vanished, and the world kept moving like he’d never ex
Chapter 92: The Ones Who Remember
Reed spent the entire next day moving like a man walking through smoke.He did what he was told. He kept his head down. He scrubbed equipment, hauled crates, checked off inventory sheets that meant nothing to him. He answered every order with a “Yes, Sergeant,” and kept his face blank enough that no one could read the storm behind his eyes.But inside, he was counting time.Not hours until lights out.Hours until the moment Granger promised.Meet me tomorrow night. Behind the storage hangar.Reed didn’t know if it was a trap.He didn’t know if it was a test.And the worst part was—he didn’t know if he cared.Because isolation had a way of changing the rules. It made desperation feel like strategy. It made even the smallest chance of connection feel like oxygen.By the time the sun sank behind the mountains, Reed’s body was exhausted and his mind was wired. He ate quickly, alone again, and left the mess hall before anyone could decide to notice him.He walked the base like he belonged
Chapter 91: Punishment isn't the Point
Reed’s punishment didn’t come with fists.It came with paperwork.He was placed on restriction, stripped from live training rotations, and assigned to base labor detail—cleaning, hauling, inventorying supplies that didn’t matter to anyone except the system that demanded everything be counted.It was humiliation disguised as discipline.The kind of consequence meant to teach a lesson without leaving visible bruises.But Reed already had bruises.The ones you couldn’t see were worse.The first day, he scrubbed floors in the vehicle bay until his arms shook. Grease stained his gloves black. The smell of oil clung to his skin even after he washed his hands raw.The second day, he carried crates of ammunition from one storage unit to another for no reason he could understand. He asked once.The sergeant overseeing him—an older man with tired eyes—only said, “Orders.”By the third day, Reed realized something.This wasn’t about making him better.This was about making him alone.Vanguard di
Chapter 90: Lines in the Sand
The next morning, Reed woke before the whistle.His eyes opened in the dark barracks, and for a moment he forgot where he was. He waited for the familiar sounds of Echo Unit—Ortiz shifting on his cot, Hale’s quiet voice giving a reminder, Mercer’s calm footsteps outside the tent.Instead, he heard the hum of fluorescent lights and the faint, restless breathing of men who slept like they were bracing for impact.Vanguard.Reed sat up slowly, rubbing his face with both hands. His body ached in places he hadn’t known could ache. His shoulders felt like they’d been hammered. His palms were raw from push-ups and crawling drills. His mind was worse—tight, wound, full of things he couldn’t say out loud.He reached under his pillow, pulled out his notebook, and stared at the last line he’d written.They’re trying to rewrite me.He stared until the words blurred.Then he shoved the notebook away, swung his legs off the bunk, and began to dress.No matter what Vanguard did, the day would start
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