Webb’s call led them into a small office tucked behind a narrow door. At first glance, the room was unremarkable, the space Kade had seen in dozens of naval installations. Bare walls, a metal desk pushed against the corner, and the lingering scent of disuse. But as her eyes adjusted to the scene, the details emerged, painting a much grimmer picture.

  A makeshift barricade dominated one side of the room, built hastily from overturned chairs, shelving units, and scraps of broken furniture. It was crude but purposeful, a desperate attempt to create cover in a fight that the defenders clearly hadn’t won. Behind the barricade lay the remains of several soldiers, their bodies tangled with shredded uniforms and gear that bore the insignia of the SMC.

  Kade stepped closer, her gaze falling on a figure slumped near the center of the barricade. The insignia on their tattered gear suggested they’d been an officer, though the details were hard to make out beneath the gore and damage. What drew her attention most was the log book resting beside their outstretched hand.

  Its cover was battered, the corners bent and warped as though it had been gripped tightly in the chaos. Blood had soaked into the edges, staining the pages a deep rust-red that stood out starkly against the faded material. Despite the damage, it was intact enough to be read. If she could bring herself to touch it.

  The room was silent but not peaceful. The scattered debris, the signs of battle, and the very absence of survivors created an oppressive tension that settled over the group. Five days. That’s how long it had been since the reboot, and the state of the room told her everything she needed to know about the horrors these soldiers had faced in their last moments.

  Kade’s eyes lingered on the journal, a mix of curiosity and unease knotting in her shoulders. Those bloodstained pages might hold the answers about who these people were and what they fought. But what was the price of recording them?

  The first entry outlined the station’s purpose and its significance during the Simulation Reboot. Block Island was not intended as the final fallback point. It had served as a staging ground, a vital link in a larger chain. The portal, mentioned only briefly, was the linchpin, their means of evacuating personnel and civilians to a secure safe zone. There was urgency in the officer’s words but also a sense of trust in the plan, as if they believed the station’s defenses would hold.

  A portal. The word didn’t belong in a military report. The only time she’d heard it used was when her nephews were yelling at a screen over holiday break, arguing about puzzle physics and glowing doorways. Here, the word felt... wrong. Was it magic? Some kind of teleport? Maybe a construct-based transit system? She had no frame of reference. The officer had written it like everyone would just understand. Like the term portal was common knowledge.

  The second entry was different. The handwriting was jagged, almost frantic, as though the writer had been trembling. It described the activation of an ancient security system designed to safeguard the base as a forward operating point. But the system hadn’t worked as intended. Instead of recognizing the SMC personnel, it had classified them as hostile trespassers. The words, indiscriminate and unrelenting, leapt out from the page. The entry ended abruptly, trailing off into a dark smear of ink as if the writer hadn’t had time to finish.

  Kade snapped the journal closed, her expression tightening. The officer didn’t have all the answers, but what they knew painted a grim picture. Whatever was to have happened went horribly wrong. It had turned this place from a sanctuary into a slaughterhouse.

  "Lieutenant." Stone’s voice came from just behind her. The corpsman had moved closer to the remains, her gloved hand gesturing to one of the shattered rib cages. "Look at this."

  Kade leaned in, following Stone’s hand to the deep gouges along the bone. The marks were brutal, jagged, and impossible to mistake.

  "These aren’t from a blade, and they’re definitely not from gunfire," Stone continued. "They’re like what we saw in the hallway. That thing or something like it did this."

  Kade didn’t respond immediately, her gaze lingering on the bones. Stone was right. The similarities were undeniable. The signs of the struggle all pointed to a desperate last stand. But those gouges told a more straightforward story: the defenders had never stood a chance.

  These people weren’t just soldiers. They were SMC personnel, like her own team. Despite doing everything right, they were torn apart. Whatever had happened here, it wasn’t just a loss. It was annihilation. Sliding the journal into her gear, Kade stood. The journal didn’t give her everything, but it gave enough. Tearing an emergency evacuation map off the wall, Kade pulled everyone in close.

  "Here’s where we stand as I see it. Naomi grabbed the captain for a reason. It’s not just about leverage. She’s betting his command codes shut down the defenses. If there is, it’ll most likely be at command and control. That’s our primary target." She said, pointing to the command center on the map.

  "But we’re swinging by the armory first. We might find gear that gives us an edge, even if it’s a long shot. The gear these soldiers had isn’t bad, but it’s basic. We won’t spend long there. If it’s empty, we move on." She continued as she traced her finger back to the armory location.

  Holt spoke up, "Ma'am, odds aren’t great that the armory will have anything better, Lieutenant. Looks like these guys were fighting with standard kit."

  "True," Kade said. "But we don’t leave cards on the table unless we have to. If we find anything that’ll help us keep breathing, it’s worth the five minutes. Whoever set this base up had some idea that the reboot was coming. They may have screwed the pooch with the defense system, but we may find something in the armory that gives us an edge."

  Kade took a moment before continuing. "We're approaching the game's end. If Naomi gets control of this base, then we will be in a bad way. If defenses get us first… well… then Naomi won't be our problem. It may be the bottom of the ninth, and we're two runs behind, but it's our at bat. So let's make sure that if we're going to go out, we're going out swinging."

  There was no need for applause or grand responses. The quiet assent in their eyes was enough.

  As the group shifted to prepare for the next move, Kade stepped back toward the barricade. She knelt, her gloves brushing against the cold metal tags hanging around the mangled remains. There were only a handful, each one scratched and tarnished, but she removed them carefully, one by one. She didn't recognize any of the names, but she didn't have to. Every one of them wore a uniform like hers.

  There was no ceremony. It wasn’t even duty. It was acknowledgment of the sacrifice made here and of the responsibility that now rested on her and her team to make it matter.

  When she rose, the team was ready. Kade straightened, her voice calm but firm. "Move out."

  Previous battles echoes marked the team's path as they advanced deeper into the base. Most of the walls bore the scars of conflict. Scorch marks burned into stone, gouges ripped into metal. Barricades, thrown together from crates, desks, and whatever else had been at hand, offered small glimpses into the desperation of the defenders.

  But the lack of bodies was unnerving. There were traces as smears of blood, torn fabric, and discarded weapons, but few remains. Kade took the dog tags from each body she found, adding them to the collection growing in her pocket, along with the unspoken promise that these people wouldn't be forgotten.

  Not all the bodies belonged to the SMC. Among the fallen, they found pirates, too, their mismatched gear and scavenged weapons scattered where they’d fallen. Kade studied them briefly, her gaze noting the contrast between their disarray and the military precision of the SMC remains. It wasn't clear why Naomi would have sent patrols of pirates. Sure, she had to know the Horizon Talon would come for her, but to send out her men haphazardly like this was a death sentence.

  The discovery of a destroyed construct broke the rhythm of their progress. Its limbs were scattered, torn away with such force that the jagged edges looked melted and crushed at the same time. The main body, a warped metallic husk, lay in a heap, its runes dark and lifeless.

  Mercer crouched beside it, her expression sharp with interest. She ran a hand along one of the twisted joints, tilting her head slightly as she examined the damage. "So, they can die," she said. "Guess they’re not as scary as they want us to think."

  The comment carried a dry humor that hung in the air for a moment. Then Holt snorted softly, and Kade saw a few faint smiles crack through the tension. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to ease the tight coil of nerves running through the team.

  Kade didn’t interrupt the moment. Mercer’s gallows humor wasn’t just a coping mechanism, it was a statement of fact. It was possible to kill whatever these machines were. That mattered.

  The corridor widened further as they pressed on, the scattered signs of battle thinning. Kade’s focus stayed sharp, but the quiet had a way of creeping in, dulling even her instincts. The armory was close now, according to the map. It was tempting to believe they’d make it there without a fight.

  Mercer moved ahead, rounding the next corner. She paused, her hand darting to signal the group. Two humanoid constructs stood in the dim light at the end of the corridor. They were smaller than the massive quadruped horror they’d seen earlier, but no less unnerving. Their humanoid frames were sleek, their metallic surfaces glinting faintly in the shadows. For a moment, they were still, their movements almost imperceptible as they turned their attention directly toward Mercer.

  The constructs hesitated only for a moment, their glowing visors locking onto Mercer like predators sizing up prey. Then they charged, their mechanical limbs striking the stone floor with deafening precision.

  Mercer barely had time to call out before they closed the gap, their arms shifting mid-motion. Panels along their forearms snapped open, revealing hidden compartments, and their hands retracted into their wrists with sharp mechanical clicks. In their place, weapons extended outward with brutal efficiency. One sporting a gleaming curved blade, the other a jagged axe with serrated edges.

  Mercer fired her crossbow, the bolt glancing harmlessly off the axe construct’s shoulder with a sharp ping. She didn’t hesitate to drop the weapon, gripping her pike pole as the first construct’s blade came sweeping toward her midsection. She deflected the strike with a desperate parry, sparks flying as the blade screeched against her weapon’s shaft. The impact drove her back a step, but there was no pause as the axe construct was already bringing its weapon down in a vicious arc.

  Mercer ducked, the axe slicing through the air above her. She twisted into a defensive stance, keeping the pike pole between her and the attackers, but they didn’t relent. The blade construct lunged again, its weapon feinting high before arcing low. This time, the strike found its mark. The blade slashed across Mercer’s side, tearing through her armor and flesh with horrifying ease.

  She let out a sharp cry, stumbling as blood spilled across her side in a dark arc. Her free hand pressed against the wound, her breathing quick and shallow as she tried to steady herself.

  "Stone!" Kade’s voice rang out as the team surged forward to catch up with the battle, weapons ready.

  Stone was already moving. Her hands glowed with golden light as she raised them, casting a quick healing spell. A burst of golden sparks swirled around Mercer, the magic knitting part of the wound closed and slowing the bleeding. Mercer straightened slightly, her expression tight with pain but her grip on the pike pole unyielding.

  The constructs didn’t falter. The axe-wielding one lunged, its weapon coming down in another brutal swing. Mercer barely twisted out of the way, the axe slamming into the floor where she’d been standing moments before. The blade construct struck next, its weapon slicing toward her shoulder, but she deflected the blow with a desperate sweep of her pike pole.

  The precision of their attacks was overwhelming. Each motion was deliberate, calculated, and devoid of hesitation. The constructs worked together with an efficiency that left no openings, their strikes coming faster than Mercer could counter.

  Behind her, the rest of the team was closing the distance, but they weren’t close enough yet. Mercer was still alone in the fight, her movements growing more frantic as the constructs pressed their relentless assault. As Kade raced to catch up to where Mercer was, she could see that time was running out.

  The team reached Mercer just as the sword-armed construct's attack found an opening in Mercer's defenses. Its blade plunged into her chest, slicing through her armor and deep into her flesh. Mercer’s gasp was sharp and guttural, her body jerking as blood spilled from the wound. The construct retracted its blade to step back as the axe-wielding construct moved in with an overhead strike.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  Kade arrived in time to deflect the blow, her cutlass intercepting the axe with a clash that echoed down the corridor. The force of the impact sent a jarring vibration up her arm, but she held her ground, forcing the construct to pause momentarily.

  "Stone! Get her out of here!" Kade barked.

  Stone was already moving. She grabbed Mercer by the rescue handle on her armor, dragging her back with a forceful tug that left a dark smear of blood on the ground. Mercer’s breath came in ragged, shallow gasps, her face pale and damp with sweat. The wound was catastrophic, deep and jagged, with blood pouring from the edges despite the armor’s attempts to mitigate the damage.

  Golden light flared around Stone’s hands as she cast another healing spell, her voice low and focused as she worked. Sparks of energy swirled around Mercer’s torso, knitting some of the torn flesh together and slowing the bleeding. It wasn’t enough to fully close the wound.

  "She’s alive," Stone called out, her voice strained, "but barely."

  With Mercer out of the way, Kade didn’t hesitate, stepping forward to place herself between the constructs and her team. She activated her Officer’s Command ability, a pulse of energy radiating outward. Webb and Holt stood taller, their focus sharpening as the ability bolstered their strength and resolve. Kade could see it in their eyes.

  The constructs moved again, their attacks unnervingly coordinated. They shifted positions in perfect sync, the sword-wielding construct advancing on Kade while the axe construct feinted to the side, angling for an opening. Their movements were calculated, and every strike was a piece of a larger strategy.

  Kade activated her Stormwall ability, her stance shifting as the defensive magic enveloped her. The blade construct lunged, its weapon slicing toward her shoulder in a blinding arc. Kade’s cutlass met it mid-swing, deflecting the blade with a metallic screech. The axe construct followed immediately, its weapon crashing toward her from the opposite side. Kade twisted, her cutlass sweeping upward to block the strike.

  Behind her, the Webb and Holt took their chance with whichever construct was within reach. Holt lashed out with his pike, the weapon striking the blade construct’s side and forcing it to shift its weight. Webb delivered an over head chop with his axe, the blade embedding into the axe construct’s shoulder joint, briefly stalling its next swing. The minor victories weren’t enough to take the constructs down, but they fractured their relentless rhythm, giving Kade moments to regain her footing.

  The constructs didn’t falter for long before adjusting their positions. Kade remained their primary target, her cutlass flashing as she intercepted another series of strikes. The Webb and Holt struck when they could, chipping away at the constructs’ defenses, but the machines’ focus stayed firmly locked on her.

  Kade’s cutlass clashed against the blade-arm construct’s weapon again, the screech of metal-on-metal reverberating through the corridor. The machine’s attack pushed her back a step, its force unrelenting as it twisted and brought its weapon around for another slash. She adjusted her stance, angling her cutlass just in time to parry, the jarring impact leaving her arm throbbing.

  The axe-wielding construct advanced on the Marine to her left, its serrated weapon coming down in a deadly arc. The Holt sidestepped, the axe biting into the floor with a metallic crunch. He countered with a quick jab of his pike, the tip glancing off the construct’s armored torso but doing no significant damage.

  "Press it! Don’t give them a chance!" Kade shouted, pivoting to intercept another attack. Her cutlass deflected the blade construct’s next strike, but the machine adjusted mid-swing, twisting its remaining arm to stab low. Kade shifted her cutlass downward, catching the blow before it could reach her legs, but the force nearly unbalanced her.

  The Holt struck again, this time aiming for the exposed shoulder of the axe construct. His weapon skidded across the armor plating, leaving a faint gouge but failing to penetrate. The axe construct retaliated, its weapon feinting high before arcing toward the Marine’s midsection. He dodged, his pike swinging upward to keep the construct at bay.

  A Webb joined the fray, his weapon aimed at the axe construct’s flank. The blade buried itself into the construct’s joint with a satisfying thunk, forcing the machine to stagger back slightly. Before he could capitalize, the sword construct swept its remaining blade in a wide arc, forcing both Marines to retreat.

  The constructs adjusted their movements again, their coordination eerily precise. Kade could see the logic in their attacks, one pushed forward aggressively while the other repositioned, covering any potential gaps. It was as if they shared one mind or had some method of coordinating their attacks.

  The sword-armed construct suddenly lunged at Kade, its blade slicing toward her chest. She twisted sharply, deflecting the strike with her cutlass, sparks cascading from the clash. The construct overextended slightly, its remaining arm momentarily exposed.

  "There's the opening, get it! Get it!" Kade screamed.

  Holt darted forward, his pike driving into the construct’s elbow joint. The weapon’s tip lodged deep, and he twisted hard, the metallic shriek of protesting metal filling the air. The joint gave way with a deafening crack, the construct’s arm shattering in an explosion of shards and oil.

  Dark fluid sprayed outward, splattering the Marines and staining the floor in thick streaks. The construct stumbled, its shattered arm hanging limp as the hoses protruding from the break oozed black oil. Its movements became jerky, losing its weaponized limb leaving it less coordinated but still dangerous.

  Holt stumbled back, his pike wrenched from his grip and still embedded in the construct’s broken joint. He hesitated only for a moment before Kade’s voice snapped through the air.

  "Grab Mercer’s weapon!" she ordered.

  Without hesitation, the Holt stepped back, his head turning as he scanned the ground. He spotted the discarded pike pole near where Stone continued to work on Mercer and sprinted toward it, snatching it up with one quick motion before pivoting back toward the fight.

  Kade dropped her Stormwall stance, feeling the shift as the protective magic dissipated around her. Seizing the shift in battle she triggered Against the Tide and the atmosphere seemed to hum with a charged energy. The Holt and Webb moved as though they’d caught the current. Their strikes coordinated with an edge that hadn’t been there moments before.

  "Push it back!" Kade called.

  Her cutlass sliced into the sword-arm construct’s flank. The blade bit against metal, sending a cascade of sparks as she twisted free. The construct jerked, its remaining arm swinging out in a wide arc. Kade ducked, the weapon slicing close enough to stir the air above her head.

  Holt darted forward, his pike striking true and punching into the construct’s torso. The force staggered it, but it recovered too quickly. Its glowing visor flared as it retaliated, lunging forward with its remaining arm. The Marine barely dodged, the blade missing by a hair.

  Webb pressed the attack, his axe coming down hard on the construct’s leg joint. The strike connected with a sickening crunch, severing cables and shearing through the outer casing. The machine staggered again, this time its leg locking mid-motion, forcing it into an awkward, jerking stance.

  The axe-wielding construct surged forward, its weapon crashing down toward the flank. Kade turned sharply, her cutlass intercepting the strike with a resounding clash. The serrated edge of the axe screeched as it ground against her blade. She pushed up with all her strength, forcing the machine’s weapon away.

  "Focus on the damaged one! Take it down!" She said.

  The Marines lept into action. Once more, Holt's pike lashed out, piercing the sword-arm construct’s chest and pinning it momentarily against the wall. The construct writhed, its movements jerky and violent as it struggled to free itself. Before it could, Webb swung his axe in a powerful arc, cleaving into its neck. The strike severed a cluster of thick cables, sending a spray of sparks and oil cascading down the machine’s side.

  Kade seized the moment. She dropped her defense against the axe construct to pivot toward its pinned companion, her cutlass raised high. The construct turned its head toward her, but its movements were sluggish now, its attacks and attempts to break free faltering. Its remaining arm flailed weakly, but it was too slow to stop her.

  With a swift, brutal motion, Kade drove her cutlass into the construct’s head. The blade pierced through the visor, and the glowing light inside flickered violently before darkening. The machine convulsed, a horrible grinding sound escaping from its chest as its limbs spasmed uncontrollably.

  More oil oozed from its shattered frame as it collapsed in a heap, the metal casing crumpling under its own weight. Kade wrenched her cutlass free, the blade dripping with black fluid. She turned, the adrenaline still surging through her veins, and set her sights on the remaining construct.

  The axe construct was not idle during the death of its companion and struck with speed and precision, catching Kade off guard. Only luck saved her from her critical error as the axe struck her back and deflected off her shoulder guard with a screech of grinding metal as she twisted away. The blade sliced a shallow line down her back, the pain sharp and immediate.

  Kade hissed through clenched teeth, realizing her mistake. She knew better than to turn her back on an opponent like this. If the blow had landed higher or if her shoulder guard hadn’t absorbed most of the impact, she wouldn’t still be standing. The thought sent an icy shiver down her spine, but she didn’t let it slow her.

  She spared a glance toward Stone, still crouched over Mercer a few meters back. The medic’s hands glowed faintly as she cast another spell, her focus unshakable. Mercer hadn’t moved, her face pale and eyes half-lidded. Stone was locked in triage mode, too busy keeping Mercer breathing to notice Kade’s injury, let alone treat it. Kade turned back to the fight. She was on her own for now.

  "Three on one," she growled as she recovered and turned to face their last enemy. "Let’s finish this."

  The Marines closed in, their weapons raised. Even with their numbers, the construct didn’t falter. It went on the defensive, using its axe to sweep wide to keep them at bay. It was waiting for them to make another mistake it could attempt to capitalize on.

  Kade drove forward, her cutlass striking against the haft of the construct’s axe. The impact jarred her arm, already sore arm, locking the weapon in place. Holt lunged with his pike, aiming for the construct’s torso. The machine twisted at the last second, the pike glancing off its plating.

  The construct’s movements shifted, and Kade caught the change in its body weight a second too late. Holding Kade in place with their locked weapons, its left arm snapped toward her in a brutal cross. The fist connected with her face in a sickening crunch. Pain exploded across her cheek, and her head snapped back.

  Stars danced in her vision as she stumbled. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth, and she knew there would be a spectacular bruise for the blow as a trophy if they survived. She wasn't entirely sure, but she thought the blow may have even broken one of her teeth. It was hard to tell with her entire face in pain.

  "That all you got? You're going to need to do better than that, sparky." She shouted in a bit of false bravado.

  The Marines didn’t waste the opportunity. Capitalizing on the construct’s throwing the left punch, Holt made the most of the opening. He surged forward, driving the pike into the machine’s armpit with all his weight. The strike hit something vital. Sparks erupted from the joint, a shower of blinding light and the acrid scent of burning oil filling the air.

  The construct froze, its body shuddering violently before going lifeless. Its limbs drooped, the once-precise movements reduced to a lifeless slump. The pike remained lodged in its frame as the Marine stumbled back, his chest heaving from the effort.

  Kade spat blood onto the floor, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. Her cutlass dripped with oil as she turned toward Stone and Mercer, leaving the fallen construct where it lay.

  "Stone, status?" she barked, already moving toward them.

  Stone was crouched over Mercer, her hands glowing faintly with the remnants of a healing spell. Mercer’s face was pale, her breathing shallow, but she was alive. Stone looked up, her expression tight.

  "She’s stable, but we're going to need a few minutes. I'm almost out of mana." Stone’s voice was low, edged with worry.

  Kade crouched beside them, her back stinging as she moved. Her jaw ached, and the coppery taste of blood still lingered on her tongue, but that didn’t matter. She placed a hand on Mercer’s armor, her grip firm but careful.

  "You held the line," Kade said. "We’re going to get you out of this."

  Mercer’s eyes flickered open for a moment, hazy and unfocused. Kade straightened, her focus shifting back to Stone.

  "We need to keep moving. We're not in the best place to stop," Kade said.

  "She's not going anywhere for a while," Stone responded.

  "I'll be fine," Mercer said, her eyes fluttering open again. Her voice was hoarse.

  "You need to rest. You were stabbed in the chest! Awesome, healing magic saved the day, but that's still a hell of a lot of trauma," Stone responded. "How many hit points do you have left? Prove me wrong, tell me you're at full health and I'll shut up."

  "No, I'm not at full health, but the lieutenant is right. We can't stay here. There is still a mission," Mercer responded as she struggled to stand.

  "I'm sorry, Stone. I would love to stay here and let you continue to work on Mercer, but we can't," Kade said. "That being said, she'll be staying with you. Someone else will take point."

  A chorus of voices from the team acknowledged the order as everyone resumed their trek.

  Mercer was on her feet, but just barely. Her movements were stiff, each step an effort, and she leaned heavily on Stone, who supported her with an arm around her waist. Stone’s voice was soft, just a whisper of words meant to steady and reassure. Mercer nodded faintly but kept her focus on moving forward, her breaths shallow and labored.

  Kade’s gaze lingered on them for a moment longer than she intended. She clenched her jaw, turning her attention back to the corridor. They couldn’t afford to stop, not here. This base was as hostile as any battlefield she’d ever walked, and no one would find safety in its halls. There was no time to let Mercer rest. Kade hated it, but that was the brutal reality they faced.

  She forced the thought aside and gestured for Webb to take point. They needed to move.

  The corridor narrowed as they advanced, the magical lights overhead flickering weakly. Shadows stretched long and jagged across the walls, dancing over the carnage left behind from the last stand. Makeshift barricades were splintered and shoved aside, their defenders sprawled lifeless behind them. The bodies were unmistakably SMC personnel, their uniforms stained and torn, their weapons discarded amidst the debris.

  Dark streaks of blood and oil mingled across the floor, marking where humans and constructs had fallen. A severed construct limb, its claw twisted and bent, lay abandoned near a doorway. The sight pulled at Kade, but she didn’t let herself slow. These were soldiers professionals who had fought and died to hold this ground. There wasn’t time for mourning.

  She stepped carefully over the mess, keeping her grip tight on her cutlass. The tension was thick, every sound amplified in the silence. Her heart thudded in her chest as the armory came into view.

  Ahead loomed the armory doors, one hanging ajar and bent inward as if someone had forced it open. Kade raised a hand, signaling for the team to halt. The Marines froze behind her, weapons at the ready.

  Faint voices drifted from the gap, carried on the still, stale air. Kade strained to listen, catching bits and pieces. It was a man complaining about loot, another voice muttering something about the defense systems, and then, clear as a bell, a warning about Naomi. Fear laced their words, the fear born from knowing they were in over their heads.

  Kade’s cutlass felt heavier in her grip as her free hand gestured for silence. Those weren't hardened fighters. The tone was all wrong. They were scavengers, pirates, or opportunists clinging to whatever they could steal. They were desperate and jumpy.

  She scanned the team, locking eyes with each Marine in turn. Stone kept close to Mercer, still holding her upright. Holt and Webb nodded faintly, their expressions tense but determined. Kade returned her gaze to the door. The voices inside continued, rising and falling like the tide, but they didn't sound like they were right inside the doorway.

  Her grip tightened, and she took a slow step forward into the armory.

  Chapter 1.31 over on Patreon. That means you're six chapters behind enemy lines.

  – Kade

  Subject: Armory Push, Block Island Station

  Author: Lt. Kade, SMC

  Status: Still breathing. Barely.

  We entered expecting a quick sweep and maybe a cache of gear. What we got instead was Mercer almost bleeding out, constructs that fight like they’ve been watching our playbook, and enough oil spilled to make a mech tech cry. We lost the element of surprise, burned through our best spells, and I’m nursing a shoulder gouge and a jaw that clicks when I breathe too hard. Pretty sure my molars swapped zip codes.

  Summary: We’re cut, bruised, and low on resources. But so is everyone else. The difference? We’re still fighting like professionals.