Zuno felt a light shove against his shoulder as he stood at the bus exit, frozen for a moment longer than he should have been. He had stopped without realizing it, blocking the way. His foot quickly moved forward, stepping down onto the ground outside, and he turned slightly to see who had pushed him.
Before he could, a familiar voice cut in.
"Don't wuss out now, Zuno, we're already here."
Derrick's hand landed firmly against his back in that same casual way he always did, steady and reassuring. Under normal circumstances, it would've eased him. Right now, it barely registered.
There wasn't time to dwell on it.
They weren't alone.
A group of people stood waiting just outside the bus—about a dozen in total, positioned with purpose rather than coincidence. One for each squad. Their presence wasn't welcoming. It was expectant.
Zuno's eyes scanned them briefly before settling on the one standing in front of his group.
A woman.
Average height. Straight posture. Hair that reminded him of Claire's, though darker, less vibrant. Her expression was sharp, assessing. A clipboard rested against her side, pinned between her arm and her torso.
She was watching them.
Not as recruits.
As assets.
The rest of the platoon was quickly divided, each squad falling into place under the gaze of their assigned handler. The process was efficient, practiced, almost identical to the day Zuno had been drafted. The familiarity of it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
The woman's eyes moved across Zuno's squad before she spoke.
"I assume your squad is Zeta, correct?"
They nodded almost immediately.
She didn't waste time acknowledging it beyond a small shift in posture. Her body turned, already moving as she gestured forward.
"Come on then. We don't have all night. There's an assignment for you all."
Assignment.
The word hit harder than expected.
Zuno fell in line with the others, his steps slower than Derrick's, who moved ahead without hesitation. Sarah stayed just in front of him, her shoulders tense.
Zuno lagged behind slightly, his thoughts catching up to him.
A mission? Already?
They had barely arrived.
There was no time to adjust, no time to understand where they were, no time to prepare. Just movement. Orders. Forward.
His jaw tightened.
He didn't like it—but that didn't matter. None of it did.
They walked through the base, deeper than before. The noise of the encampment surrounded them—voices, machinery, distant commands—but none of it felt grounded. Everything moved too fast.
Eventually, they stopped in front of a tent positioned farther inside the base, away from the initial drop-off area.
"Once we enter, place your bags to the left," the woman said, lifting the curtain. "They'll be taken to your bunks."
She stepped inside.
The squad followed.
The interior was structured but simple. Chairs arranged in pairs faced a large board mounted at the front, a detailed map spread across it. A fifth chair sat slightly apart from the others.
Occupied.
Zuno recognized him immediately.
Xavier.
The gray streak in his hair stood out just as it had before. He sat still for a moment as they entered, then stood.
"Sit down. We have an important task to discuss."
His tone left no room for hesitation.
The squad placed their bags where instructed before taking their seats. Zuno sat with the others, his attention shifting toward the map as Xavier stepped forward.
He raised his hand and pointed directly to the center.
"This is where the main conflict is currently taking place."
His finger tapped the map once, deliberate, before sliding to the right.
"And this is where your squad will be deployed."
Zuno leaned forward slightly, studying the marked area.
It was close.
Too close.
"Another squad will be positioned on the opposite flank," Xavier continued. "These areas experience lower activity compared to the center. The Arachtoids appear focused on the main engagement rather than securing territory."
Zuno listened, but something about it didn't sit right.
Lower activity didn't mean safe.
It meant unpredictable.
"Your squad will be dropped at the nearest checkpoint," Xavier went on. "From there, you'll proceed on foot."
He paused briefly.
"As a precaution, an experienced soldier will accompany you."
Zuno's eyes shifted instinctively toward his squad.
Then stopped.
Derrick.
He was already looking forward, expression unchanged.
Understanding settled in slowly.
Zuno's chest tightened.
He knew.
This whole time.
Zuno's thoughts collided, sharp and sudden. The training. The way Derrick carried himself. The confidence. The restraint during their fight.
It all made sense now.
But that didn't make it easier to accept.
Why didn't he say anything?
A flicker of frustration rose beneath the surface. Not loud. Not explosive.
Quiet.
Disappointing.
Zuno looked away before Derrick could notice.
Xavier's voice cut back in.
"If you have anything of importance in your bags, retrieve it now."
He gestured toward the side of the tent.
"You'll be issued new packs, along with your weapons and necessary equipment. This is a recon mission. Do not engage unless necessary. Follow your squad lead."
A pause.
"I wish you luck. Report anything that could aid us in this war."
The woman stepped forward, handing out packs one by one.
Zuno took his without comment.
Inside: a canteen, a long-range radio, rations.
A month's worth.
His grip tightened slightly.
That was longer than he expected.
Longer than he liked.
They were dismissed shortly after.
Zuno stood, moving back toward his duffel bag. There wasn't much inside—just what he needed.
His notebook.
The black box.
He hesitated for a second before taking both, placing them carefully into the new pack.
Everything else stayed behind.
A few minutes later, they regrouped outside.
Preparation was quick. Efficient.
Derrick was already finished, standing near the front.
Zuno avoided looking at him.
They were guided again, this time toward a vehicle parked near a different gate.
A Humvee.
Armored. Compact. Ready.
They climbed in without discussion.
Zuno took a seat in the back, next to Sarah and Claire. The space was tight, the air heavier than before. Derrick sat up front, beside the driver.
The engine started.
The vehicle moved.
They passed through the gate and into the darkness beyond the camp.
The floodlights faded behind them, replaced by open land and shadow. The terrain stretched endlessly ahead, broken only by the path carved out beneath the vehicle's wheels.
No one spoke.
The only sound was the low hum of the engine and the shifting of gear with each turn.
Zuno leaned back slightly, his hand resting over his pack.
His thoughts drifted.
To the mission.
To the war.
Then—
To Derrick.
The silence between them felt different now.
Not empty.
Unresolved.
Zuno looked forward, past the windshield, into the darkness ahead.
Whatever waited for them out there—
They were already too far in to turn back.