The morning came cold and metallic.
The air outside Outpost Nine smelled of burnt oil and sand, the kind of scent that never quite left your skin.
24 — Kane — woke before dawn, as always.
He sat on his cot, wrapping the faded cloth tighter around his neck, then quietly checked his blades.
Across the room, Lu — Sara — adjusted her mask, running her thumb along a thin scratch on the surface.
Neither spoke. They didn't need to. Both already felt it —
the kind of tension that meant someone had plans for them today.
They were summoned by a knock at the door.
The same woman from the night before — the gray-haired lieutenant — stood waiting.
"Commander wants you two in the armory. Says he's got work."
Her tone was even, but her eyes flicked between them, studying every small movement.
24 nodded, wordless.
They followed her through the base's corridors, past engineers refitting old drones and soldiers checking scavenged rifles.
Everything here screamed survival — stripped, rebuilt, and made to function on desperation.
When they reached the armory, the Commander was waiting.
"Kane. Sara," he greeted. "You two said you're looking to earn your place. Let's see if that was truth or talk."
He gestured to a rusted table covered in weapon parts and maps.
"Supply team went dark last night. Small squad sent to scavenge a relay array, maybe five klicks south. Never came back."
"You want us to find them?" 24 asked.
"Find them, or what's left of them. Bring back the supplies if you can."
24 studied the map. The coordinates marked a canyon that cut through the old industrial ruins — tight, enclosed, a perfect choke point.
His instincts whispered one thing: ambush.
"Anyone else coming?"
The Commander's lips curved faintly. "Just the two of you. Think of it as a… field assessment."
Outside the gates, 24 and Lu walked in silence until the outpost faded into the haze behind them.
The wind carried fine dust, turning the horizon into a shifting blur.
"He's testing us," Lu said quietly.
"He's baiting us," 24 corrected. "But tests make good bait."
"You think he expects us not to come back?"
"He expects us to show him what we are. Let's not."
Lu nodded once, gripping the hilts of her twin short blades.
Her steps were measured — she'd grown into them. Balanced, grounded.
The canyon appeared by midday — a scar through the land, walls rising jagged and steep.
24 motioned for silence, then crouched near the edge, scanning.
Scattered debris from a burned-out transport lay across the floor below — metal crates, a shattered wheel, a dark smear of dried blood.
No bodies in sight.
Which meant whoever was here… was still here.
"Five," 24 murmured. "Maybe six. Two up high, three near the wreck.
Pattern's sloppy. Probably raiders or defectors."
Lu nodded, whispering, "Your call."
"Stay low. We move like we're scouts, not killers. Remember — he's watching somehow. Drones, maybe."
She hesitated. "You sure you want to hold back?"
24's gray eyes flicked toward her.
"Always hold something back. That's how you live long enough to use it."
They dropped into the canyon like ghosts.
The first two attackers never saw them coming —
Lu's blade slid clean across one's throat while 24 struck the other's neck with the hilt, silent and efficient.
They dragged the bodies into the shadow of the wreckage, blending them with the debris.
Then the real fight started.
Three figures emerged from cover — armored lightly, faces covered with scavenger masks.
They shouted something — code or challenge — before opening fire.
24 didn't jump. Didn't vanish.
He moved through the bullets like water, guiding Lu with short, precise motions — a raised hand here, a tilt of his head there.
She mirrored him, staying close, weaving through the chaos.
He let her strike first — her blade catching one across the chest.
The man fell with a wet gasp.
The second rushed her with a metal pipe, but 24 was already behind him — not to kill, just to shift his balance,
so Lu could drive her blade into his back.
She froze for a split second after the hit — still getting used to the sound it made —
but 24's quiet, steady tone cut through the noise.
"Don't stop. Breathe. Move."
She exhaled and obeyed.
The last raider turned and ran.
24 let him get three steps before snapping his wrist and sending a blade through the air —
not to kill, just to bury it in the man's leg.
He went down screaming. Lu finished it — swift, merciful, silent.
When the canyon went quiet, the wind returned.
24 pulled his blade free, wiping it clean with a strip of fabric.
"You didn't use it," Lu said — not accusing, just curious.
"Would've been faster if I did," 24 replied. "But he's watching.
No reason to show him what he doesn't deserve to see."
She nodded slowly, understanding.
They gathered what supplies they could find — ammo, sealed water packs, and the half-functional relay unit.
Then they climbed back out of the canyon.
By dusk, they were back at Outpost Nine.
Dust clung to their clothes. The Commander stood waiting by the gate, arms crossed.
"Didn't expect you back this quick," he said.
"Wasn't that far," 24 said flatly, dropping the pack at his feet.
The Commander opened it, scanning the contents, then looked up — a hint of respect behind his guarded stare.
"Efficient. Quiet. I like that."
Lu's mask tilted slightly. "We try not to make noise unless we have to."
"Good," the Commander said, lips curving faintly. "Noise gets you killed."
His cybernetic eye flickered red for a moment — recording them, analyzing, maybe something more.
24 caught it but didn't react.
"Rest up," the Commander said finally. "We'll talk again tomorrow."
That night, as the base lights dimmed, Lu leaned against the wall beside their cot.
"He knows we held back," she whispered.
"Good," 24 murmured. "Keeps him guessing."
"You think he'll test us again?"
"He has to. That's what people do when they can't decide if you're a threat or an ally."
Lu nodded slowly. The flickering lantern painted faint shadows across her mask — like moving cracks in porcelain.
"So which are we?" she asked softly.
24's voice came low, steady, almost distant.
"Depends on who's asking."