Lucas gritted his teeth as he fumbled with a field bandage, trying to wrap it around his bleeding shoulder using only one hand and his teeth. The strip slipped twice before he finally tied it off into a crude knot.
It would have to do.
He pushed himself back to his feet, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder, and hurried toward another wounded resident lying in the street.
Then a familiar voice reached him.
"Lucas!"
He looked up.
Ysa burst from the medical building, weaving through the chaos without slowing. She reached him within seconds and immediately dropped into a crouch beside him. "You idiots," she snapped, breathing hard. "Why did you shoot?"
Lucas swallowed. "I thought it was hostile."
Ysa shut her eyes for the briefest moment before letting out a frustrated sigh. "Good heavens, Lucas..." She looked around at the wounded scattered across Havenwall. "Gather everyone who's still alive. Bring them here so I can heal them."
Lucas nodded and started to rise.
"Wait."
He stopped.
Ysa reached for the blood-soaked bandage around his shoulder and unraveled it in one swift motion.
The wound immediately began bleeding freely again.
Lucas hissed through clenched teeth.
Without hesitation, Ysa gripped the collar of his shirt and tore it open, exposing the mangled shoulder beneath. "Sit down."
"...Ysa—"
"Sit."
There was no room for argument.
Lucas lowered himself onto the pavement.
Around them, Havenwall had become a chorus of agony. Some of the wounded lay motionless while others clutched shattered limbs or blood-soaked clothing, their screams echoing between the buildings.
As the gunfire faded into memory, doors cautiously began to open.
Residents who had hidden inside their homes emerged one after another, their frightened eyes scanning the devastation.
Then they saw Ysa.
Families rushed toward the injured, helping fathers, friends, siblings, and neighbors across the bloodstained streets before laying them gently near the siren.
Ysa ignored everything except the wound before her. She rested a hand against Lucas's shoulder.
Beneath the skin at the back of her neck, the Haelar's Mark shimmered with a soft glow.
Lucas stiffened. Every muscle surrounding the wound contracted at once. "Ah..." He bit down hard as something shifted deep inside his shoulder.
Tiny fragments of lead worked their way toward the surface, one after another, slipping free as though his own body rejected them.
A few struck the pavement with faint metallic clicks.
Ysa never looked away. Only after the final fragment emerged did the bleeding begin to slow.
The torn muscle drew together.
Shredded flesh knitted itself closed.
The burning pain faded into warmth...
Then nothing.
Within moments, only clean skin remained where the bullet had torn through him.
Ysa finally withdrew her hand. "Next."
Ysa moved from one resident to the next without pause.
A touch over a blood-soaked chest. Another over a mangled leg. Gentle fingers against a woman's broken collarbone. Each wound closed beneath the glow of the Haelar's Mark at the back of her neck.
A man cried out as she knelt beside him, his forearm bent at an impossible angle.
Ysa steadied the limb with trembling hands and let her gift flow through it. Beneath her palms, the fractured bone slowly shifted back into place with a series of muffled cracks.
The man's breathing grew ragged. His fingers twitched as damaged nerves slowly began knitting themselves back together.
Then Ysa swayed, her vision blurred for a heartbeat. Her trembling hands slipped ever so slightly.
The half-mended bone shifted.
"AAAGH!" the man screamed, his entire body arching from the sudden jolt of pain.
"Miss!"
Two nearby residents rushed forward. One caught Ysa by the shoulder before she could fall while another carefully held the man's arm steady.
Ysa blinked hard, drawing a slow, shaky breath. "Thank you," she whispered.
She steadied herself, placed her hands over the injury once more, and this time the bone settled perfectly into place. Moments later, the man's cries faded as the last of the pain disappeared.
Her breathing gradually grew heavier and fine beads of sweat formed along her brow. The faint cyan glow beneath her skin flickered with each life she mended.
Still...
She never stopped. Every time she finished with one patient, another was already waiting.
She knelt. Healed. Stood. Then knelt again.
The hours she'd spent awake, the energy pouring from her body, the exhaustion creeping into her limbs...
None of it seemed to matter. Not while someone still needed her.
Eventually...
The final wound sealed shut, and the glow slowly faded.
Ysa slowly lowered her trembling hand. For the first time since leaving the ARC...she looked around.
The screams had quieted.
In their place came something far worse.
Soft sobbing.
She turned toward the sound.
A woman knelt in the middle of the street, clutching a man's lifeless hand against her chest.
The back of his head was burst open, blood staining the pavement beneath him.
A few steps away stood Lucas. His rifle hung forgotten from its sling as he stood in silence. He simply…watched. Then his eyes met Ysa's.
She understood immediately. Slowly, she walked over.
Yve, Duncan, and Darnell crossed the street in silence at the same moment.
Yve stopped the moment she saw the body. "...Heavens." Her eyes drifted past the grieving widow to the ARC hovering silently above Havenwall.
The woman looked up. Hope suddenly filled her tear-filled eyes. She scrambled toward Ysa and collapsed onto her knees, clutching desperately at the siren's hands. "Please..." she sobbed. "Please heal him."
Ysa remained silent.
"You healed everyone else." The woman's voice cracked. "Please... bring him back."
Ysa's expression softened. She gently knelt until they were eye level. "I'm sorry..." She carefully wrapped both hands around the woman's trembling ones. "...There's nothing I can do."
The woman's face drained of color. "No..." She shook her head frantically. "No, that's not true." Fresh tears streamed down her cheeks. "I saw what you did."
"You healed them."
"You can do miracles."
"You can bring him back."
"Please..." She clutched tighter at Ysa's hands. "My husband..."
"...he's all I have left."
Ysa lowered her eyes. "I can't."
The woman stared at her for a heartbeat. Then she struck Ysa's chest.
Not hard.
Just enough to make the pain real.
"No!" Another shove. "You can't let him die!" Another. "Please!"
"You have to save him!"
Each blow grew weaker than the last until she simply collapsed against Ysa, sobbing uncontrollably.
Ysa didn't defend herself. She simply held the grieving woman.
Lucas finally stepped forward. "...I'm sorry." The words barely escaped his mouth.
The woman slowly turned toward him. For a long second...
She simply stared.
Then grief became anger. "This..." Her voice trembled. "...This is all your fault!"
Silence swallowed Havenwall.
Lucas lowered his head. "I'm sorry."
The woman shoved Lucas away with both hands, nearly knocking him off balance. "Don't touch me!"
She staggered to her feet, tears streaming down her face. For a long moment she simply looked at them—Lucas... Ysa... Yve... Duncan... Darnell. Even the colossal black craft hanging silently above Havenwall seemed to become part of her grief.
"This..." Her voice trembled. "This is all your fault."
A nearby resident cautiously stepped forward. "Ma'am..."
She yanked her arm away before he could reach her.
"No!" she cried, shaking her head. "I hate all of you!" She looked directly at the sirens, her expression twisting between grief and anger. "You came here with your powers... and your magic... and now my husband is dead."
Her gaze settled on Lucas. "You did this."
Lucas lowered his head. "I'm sorry."
"I wish I'd never met any of you." She turned and ran.
And no one tried to stop her.
The only sound left behind was her sobbing as it slowly disappeared between the rows of houses.
Silence settled over Havenwall once more.
Lucas remained where he stood, his shoulders heavy, his eyes fixed on the bloodstained pavement.
A few steps away, Yve quietly clenched her fists. She wanted to say something—anything—but every word felt meaningless beside the body lying in the street.
No apology could give the woman her husband back.
Not far from them, another small crowd had gathered.
An elderly man sat motionless on the pavement, cradling the limp body of a young man against his chest.
He didn't scream. He didn't beg.
He simply held him.
Tears slipped silently down the old man's weathered face as he gently brushed the blood-matted hair away from the young man's forehead. A dark stain had spread across the young man's chest, soaking through his shirt before pooling onto the pavement below.
No words escaped the old man. None could ever describe the grief of a parent forced to outlive their own child.
The surrounding residents lowered their voices to hushed murmurs.
Lucas felt his stomach sink. His trembling hands slowly curled into fists.
Another one...
Yve couldn't bring herself to lift her head.
Neither could Duncan.
Even Ysa stood frozen.
A resident hesitantly stepped toward her. "Miss..." His voice faltered. "Can't you... bring them back?"
Ysa closed her eyes. For a long moment, she said nothing. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "...How I wish I could."
She looked at the father still holding his son.
"But I am only a Haelar." A painful smile crossed her face before disappearing just as quickly. She slowly shook her head. "I heal the living." Her voice caught for the briefest moment. "...I cannot undo death."
Silence settled over the crowd.
"Believe me." Ysa lowered her eyes. "…I've tried."
~~~
The rifle lay forgotten against the porch beside him.
Lucas sat motionless on the wooden steps, his elbows resting on his knees, his clasped hands pressed against his mouth as though holding back words that refused to stay buried.
The sun had long since disappeared beyond Havenwall's walls, leaving only the quiet hum of the evening.
The streets had finally fallen silent.
But not his mind.
His stomach remained tightly knotted. Every time he closed his eyes, the same moments replayed with merciless clarity.
The craft turning. His finger tightening around the trigger.
"All security teams..." A heartbeat of hesitation. "FIRE!"
The deafening crack of rifles.
Then—
"EVERYBODY GET DOWN!"
Bullets screaming back toward Havenwall.
Blood. Screams. The widow. The old father cradling his son.
"I'm sorry."
Again. "FIRE!"
His own voice echoed through his thoughts once more so he squeezed his eyes shut.
But it didn't stop.
Again. "FIRE!"
His breathing grew uneven. If he had waited…
One second. Just one more second. One different decision—
Would those two men still be alive?
Just then, the front door creaked open behind him.
Taylor stepped quietly onto the porch. Without a word, she lowered herself onto the step beside him.
The silence between them said more than either of them could.
Taylor watched him quietly.
She had lived beside Lucas for more than a decade. Long before Havenwall. Long before the apocalypse. She knew the man well enough to recognize the silence he retreated into whenever something weighed too heavily on him.
Without a word, she reached over and gently rested a hand behind his head, guiding him toward her until his forehead settled against her shoulder. Her other arm wrapped around him, holding him close.
For a while, Lucas remained perfectly still.
Then the composure he'd clung to since the shooting finally gave way.
He had endured the end of the world. He had survived hunger, loss, and captivity at the hands of cannibals. Through all of it, he had forced himself to keep moving because someone had always depended on him.
Today was different.
Two people had died because of an order he believed had been necessary.
His breathing faltered.
The first tear slipped down his cheek before another followed. Soon his shoulders began to shake beneath Taylor's embrace as years of restraint collapsed all at once.
Taylor held him a little tighter.
She didn't tell him it wasn't his fault.
She didn't tell him everything would be okay.
She knew better.
Some burdens couldn't be lifted with words.
Sometimes, the only thing you could do for the person you love...
Is stay beside them while they carried the weight.
~~~
A few blocks away, where the twins had been given a place to stay, Yve sat alone on the rooftop.
Her legs dangled over the edge as she stared at the ARC hovering silently above the medical building, its obsidian hull reflecting the faint glow of Havenwall's lights.
The smell of blood still lingered in the evening air.
So did the acrid scent of burnt gunpowder.
Every breath reminded her of what had happened.
Her hands slowly curled into fists before relaxing again, only to tighten moments later. She replayed the day's events over and over, questioning every decision that had led them here.
None of the questions had answers.
Slowly, her thumb drifted to the dormant serpent coiled around her wrist.
She gently traced the outline of Nierven's tiny scales before her finger came to rest against his head.
Though he remained asleep, the faint glow in his eyes pulsed beneath his closed lids.
He could feel her unrest.
Yve lowered her gaze. "...I'm sorry," she whispered.
The words weren't meant for anyone in particular as they simply disappeared into the quiet night.
~~~
Meanwhile...
Thousands of light-years away...
Inside a dimly lit Galactic Council's Monitoring Network facility, an alien technician lazily sipped a cup of steaming black liquid while reviewing long-range monitoring arrays.
A sharp tone suddenly echoed through the workstation.
One of the holographic displays lit up.
The technician glanced toward it before muttering, "Kh'ren... va'ARC?"
His fingers swept through the holographic interface, enlarging the report. A familiar obsidian vessel slowly rotated above the console.
He narrowed his eyes. "Va'ARC... shen."
Another display unfolded before him. Strange alien symbols streamed across the screen as he searched the Galactic archives.
A heading appeared.
⟨Recent ARC Activation Approvals⟩
Nothing. No authorization. No launch clearance.
The technician leaned back. "...Varek shun grok eh." He opened another document.
⟨RESTRICTED TECHNOLOGY DETECTED⟩
Technology: Adaptive Resonance Craft (ARC)
Status: UNAUTHORIZED ACTIVATION
Location: Orion Spur Sol System (EA-003)
After attaching the sensor logs, he pressed the final glyph.
The report vanished into the Galactic communication network.
And he took another sip of the bitter black drink.