Morning arrived with gray skies that promised rain. I woke before dawn, my body's internal clock adjusted to the rhythm of preparation and vigilance that combat demanded.
The numbers cycled through my mind as I dressed and armed myself, checking the tanto's edge and confirming my holsters were secure.
I left the inn and found Sal Viento already stirring to life. Early morning workers heading to their posts, vendors setting up stalls, guards changing shifts at the gates. Normal routine, blissfully unaware of what was coming.
Like watching storm clouds gather on the horizon, knowing the lightning would eventually fall but unable to predict the exact moment.
I made my way to the medical station Sussurro had mentioned, following the address on the card she'd given me. The building occupied a converted warehouse in the southern district, Rhodes Island's logo painted clearly on the exterior. Clean, organized, professional despite the improvised nature of the facility.
Sussurro met me at the entrance, looking tired but alert. She had probably been up most of the night filing reports and coordinating with her superiors.
"You're early."
She observed, checking her watch.
"I said I'd contact you, not that you needed to show up at dawn."
"Wanted to see the facility."
"Fair enough."
She gestured for me to follow her inside.
The interior was divided into sections. Medical equipment along one wall, examination tables in the center, storage for supplies in the back. A small office space occupied a corner, where I could see communication equipment and filing cabinets. Efficient use of limited space, everything positioned for maximum workflow.
"We treat about twenty patients a day here."
Sussurro explained as we walked.
"Mostly Oripathy screenings and basic healthcare. The infected population in Sal Viento is small but growing, refugees from eastern settlements that Reunion destroyed."
She pulled out a tablet and began checking schedules.
"The operator team should arrive this afternoon. Until then, I need you to help secure the perimeter and assess potential vulnerabilities. The incident last night made it clear we're a target."
She wasn't wrong. Rhodes Island's presence complicated Reunion's plans, made the settlement less vulnerable and more valuable as a statement target. Destroying a medical station sent a message about power and inevitability.
"I'll start with the exterior."
"Good. Report back by noon. I'll have lunch ready and we can discuss findings."
I spent the morning mapping the medical station's defenses. Single entrance, reinforced door but vulnerable windows. Roof access possible from adjacent buildings. Sightlines good in most directions but blind spots existed near the storage area.
Defensible with proper preparation. Fatal if caught unprepared.
I took notes using the tablet Sussurro provided, documenting weaknesses and suggesting improvements. Barricades here, additional lighting there, clear fields of fire from these positions.
Around mid morning, Marcus found me inspecting the eastern wall of the station.
"Heard you signed on with Rhodes Island."
He said without preamble.
"Fast work. I was hoping to recruit you for settlement security."
"The offer still open?"
"Always. We need capable people more than ever."
He glanced at the medical station.
"Especially with Reunion scouting the area. Those three from last night weren't random. They were assessing our defenses, counting our fighters, measuring response times."
His tactical understanding was better than I expected. Marcus wasn't just an administrator, he was a veteran who understood warfare.
"You've fought Reunion before."
Statement, not question.
"Three times. Lost good people in two of those fights."
His expression hardened.
"They're fanatics. Infected who've been radicalized by trauma and propaganda, convinced that violence is the only path to freedom. They'll burn this settlement to make a point, and they won't care about casualties on either side."
"How many fighters does Sal Viento have?"
"Twelve trained guards. Maybe twenty civilians with basic combat experience. Against a serious Reunion assault, we'd last an hour if we're lucky."
The assessment matched my own calculations. The settlement was desperately vulnerable, completely dependent on Reunion's decision about whether it was worth attacking.
Except I knew that decision had already been made. Sixty hours from now, they would come with enough force to overwhelm local defenses.
"Rhodes Island is sending reinforcements."
Marcus nodded.
"I know. Sussurro informed me this morning. Professional military operators who've fought Reunion multiple times. That changes the math considerably."
He looked at me directly.
"She also mentioned you're the one who drove off those scouts. Said you moved faster than she could track, threatened them with surgical precision. That true?"
"More or less."
"Then maybe we have a chance after all."
He pulled out a map of the settlement and spread it on a nearby crate.
"I'm reorganizing our defensive positions based on the assumption that Reunion will attack within the week. Guard posts here, here, and here. Civilian evacuation routes to the community center, which has a reinforced basement. Supply caches distributed to prevent total loss if one position falls."
He traced attack vectors with his finger.
"They'll probably hit us from multiple directions. Standard Reunion tactic is to divide defender attention, then concentrate force at the weakest point. We need to identify that weak point before they do and reinforce it."
I studied the map, my tactical knowledge processing the information automatically. The northern gate was most vulnerable, furthest from the community center and closest to the forest where attackers could stage. Eastern wall had good sightlines but poor structural integrity. Southern district, where the medical station sat, was separated from the main settlement by open ground that would become a kill zone under fire.
"Here."
I pointed to the northern gate.
"They'll feint at multiple points but concentrate here for the main push. It's the logical choice tactically."
Marcus examined my reasoning and nodded slowly.
"I agree. Which means we should move our best fighters there, set up overlapping fields of fire, prepare fall back positions."
He rolled up the map.
"You're invited to the command briefing tonight. I want Rhodes Island and settlement security coordinating before the attack comes."
"I'll be there."
Marcus left, and I returned to documenting the medical station's vulnerabilities. By noon I had a comprehensive report detailing seventeen specific weak points and suggested countermeasures for each.
Sussurro reviewed the report while we ate lunch in the small office space. Simple food, sandwiches and fruit, but adequate nutrition.
"This is thorough."
She said, scrolling through the tablet.
"More thorough than most professional security assessments I've seen. Where did you learn to think like this?"
"Experience."
She gave me that look again, the one that said she knew I was hiding things but didn't know what or how to ask.
"Right. Mysterious past, vague answers. I'm starting to recognize the pattern."
She set the tablet aside.
"The operator team will arrive in about two hours. Their leader is someone named Surtr. According to her file, she's one of Rhodes Island's most powerful combat operators. Specializes in Originium Arts that involve extreme heat and destructive force."
She pulled up a profile on her tablet and turned it toward me.
The image showed a woman with long red hair and red eyes that seemed to burn with internal fire. Her expression was cold, imperious, completely uninterested in whoever was taking her photo. She wore dark clothing and carried a massive sword staff that looked more like a ritual implement than a weapon.
"She's listed as difficult to work with."
Sussurro continued.
"Arrogant, dismissive of others, refuses to follow orders she considers beneath her. But apparently her combat capabilities are so exceptional that Rhodes Island tolerates her attitude."
Great. A powerful ally who would probably hate me on sight and make coordination difficult.
"How many operators in the team?"
"Four including Surtr. The others are more standard combat specialists. Good fighters, professional, experienced with Reunion tactics."
Four operators plus me, Sussurro, and twelve settlement guards. Against however many Reunion soldiers would attack in sixty hours. The numbers weren't good, but they were better than they would have been without intervention.
We finished lunch and I helped Sussurro prepare the medical station for the arriving team. Moving supplies, clearing space for additional equipment, setting up a command area where briefings could take place.
Around two in the afternoon, my danger sense pulsed sharply. Not threat, exactly, but something powerful approaching. Something that registered as dangerous despite lacking hostile intent.
"They're here."
I said, moving toward the entrance.
Sussurro followed, arriving at the door just as a vehicle pulled up outside. A modified transport painted in Rhodes Island colors, built for both mobility and protection. The kind of vehicle that could navigate rough terrain while keeping its passengers safe from small arms fire.
The doors opened and operators emerged.
Three of them moved with military precision, scanning their surroundings and establishing a defensive perimeter without needing verbal commands. Professional soldiers who had done this countless times before.
The fourth figure was different.
She moved with absolute confidence, not bothering to check her surroundings because she clearly believed nothing here could threaten her. Long red hair swayed with her movement, and those burning red eyes swept across the medical station with obvious disdain.
Surtr.
Even from a distance, I could feel the heat radiating from her. Not physical warmth but something deeper, more fundamental. Like standing near a furnace that could ignite at any moment, turning everything around it to ash.
My Mystic Eyes activated automatically, tracing lines across her form. But unlike other people, where the lines showed clear pathways to death, Surtr's lines flickered and distorted. The heat she generated interfered with the perception, made reading her mortality difficult and uncertain.
Interesting. And dangerous.
Surtr's eyes found mine immediately, red meeting my own enhanced gaze. For a moment we simply stared at each other, two predators measuring threat and capability.
Then her lips curved into something that might have been a smile but looked more like a sneer.
"You're the local contractor who drove off Reunion scouts last night."
Not a question. A statement delivered with absolute certainty and complete condescension.
"That's correct."
"Hmph."
She looked me up and down, her assessment clearly finding me lacking.
"Sussurro's report made you sound impressive. I see nothing impressive about you."
My emotional intelligence parsed her body language and tone. This wasn't genuine hostility, just reflexive arrogance. She dismissed everyone by default, making them prove their worth through demonstration rather than giving them benefit of doubt.
"I'm sure that disappoints you."
Her eyes narrowed slightly, surprised that I hadn't reacted defensively to the insult.
"You have a mouth on you. Good. I hate people who cower and grovel."
She walked past me toward the medical station entrance, not bothering to wait for introduction or invitation.
"Where's the command area? We need to establish operational parameters before the situation deteriorates further."
Sussurro stepped forward, professional despite her obvious nervousness around Surtr.
"Inside. I've prepared space for briefings and coordination with local security."
"Adequate."
Surtr disappeared into the building, the other three operators following after nodding polite greetings to Sussurro and me.
"She's exactly like her file described."
Sussurro muttered.
"Arrogant and dismissive. This is going to be fun to coordinate."
We followed them inside and found Surtr already examining the command area, her critical gaze taking in every detail with clear disapproval.
"Improvised facilities. Limited equipment. Minimal defensive preparations."
She turned to Sussurro.
"This is what Rhodes Island expects me to defend? I should have stayed on the landship."
"The situation changed rapidly."
Sussurro explained, maintaining her professional composure despite Surtr's hostility.
"Reunion activity increased in the region, and last night scouts made direct contact. We requested immediate support because civilian lives are at risk."
"Civilian lives are always at risk."
Surtr said dismissively.
"That's the nature of this world. Why should I care about some remote settlement that can't defend itself?"
"Because it's the right thing to do."
The words came out before I fully considered them, Shiki's moral compass overriding tactical caution.
Surtr's attention snapped to me, those burning eyes focusing with sudden intensity.
"Right thing to do. How naive."
She stepped closer, heat radiating from her body in waves.
"Morality is a luxury. Power is the only currency that matters in Terra. The strong survive and the weak perish. That's reality."
"Reality includes choosing how to use that power."
I held her gaze despite the discomfort of proximity to her heat.
"You're strong. Probably stronger than anyone else in this settlement. That gives you choices most people don't have."
"And I choose not to waste my time on lost causes."
But she didn't leave. Didn't dismiss the conversation and walk away. She stood there, waiting for me to continue, testing whether I would back down or push forward.
"Then why did you come?"
Surtr was quiet for a moment, and something flickered across her expression. Not uncertainty, exactly, but something close to it.
"Because I was ordered to."
"You don't strike me as someone who follows orders blindly."
Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
"You're perceptive. Or foolish. I haven't decided which yet."
One of the other operators, a man with lupine features and professional bearing, stepped forward.
"I'm Czerny. That's Bison and Shamare."
He gestured to his teammates, both of whom nodded acknowledgment.
"We should focus on tactical assessment rather than philosophical debates. Reunion could attack at any time, and we need defensive positions established before that happens."
Practical. Focused. Exactly what the situation needed.
"Agreed."
Marcus entered the medical station, accompanied by two of his guards. He took in the assembled operators with visible relief.
"Rhodes Island. Thank you for coming. I'm Marcus, settlement administrator and security coordinator."
He spread his map on a table and began outlining the defensive situation. Troop numbers, equipment limitations, civilian population distribution, potential attack vectors.
Surtr listened with clear impatience, her expression suggesting this was all beneath her attention. But when Marcus finished, she surprised me by immediately identifying the same weak point I had noted earlier.
"The northern gate. They'll concentrate force there while creating diversions elsewhere. Standard Reunion tactics, predictable and effective against unprepared defenders."
"Which is why we're reinforcing that position."
Marcus agreed.
"I want your best fighters there, supported by settlement guards and whatever defensive Arts you can provide."
"My best fighter is me."
Surtr stated flatly.
"And I will position myself wherever I determine is most effective."
Marcus's jaw tightened but he kept his tone diplomatic.
"Of course. But coordination with local forces is essential for successful defense."
"I don't coordinate. I eliminate threats."
The temperature in the room rose noticeably, heat radiating from Surtr in waves that made everyone uncomfortable.
"Point me at the enemy and I will reduce them to ash. That's what I'm here for."
Czerny stepped in smoothly, clearly experienced at managing Surtr's difficult personality.
"What Surtr means is that her combat style is most effective when given freedom to engage at her discretion. She's not suited for static defensive positions."
"Then she can be mobile reserve."
I suggested, drawing everyone's attention.
"Position her wherever allows rapid response to multiple threat vectors. When the main push comes, she relocates and concentrates force at that point."
Surtr looked at me with something approaching interest.
"You understand tactical flexibility. Surprising, given you're just a local contractor."
"Just a contractor who's faced similar situations."
"Have you now."
She studied me more carefully, her burning gaze tracing lines across my body similar to how my Mystic Eyes read death.
"You carry yourself like a fighter. Not militia or amateur, but someone with genuine training. Where did you learn?"
"Various places."
"Vague answer. I hate people who hide behind vagueness."
"Then we have that in common. You hide behind arrogance."
The temperature spiked dramatically, everyone stepping back as Surtr's heat intensified to painful levels. Sussurro made a small sound of alarm, and Marcus's hand moved toward his weapon.
But Surtr was smiling. Actually smiling, not sneering or showing contempt but genuine amusement.
"You have courage. Speaking to me like that could get you killed."
"Could. But won't."
"Oh? You sound very certain."
"I am."
We stared at each other for a long moment, the temperature gradually cooling as Surtr reined in her Arts. When she spoke again, her tone carried grudging respect.
"Fine. You can coordinate my positioning during the battle. But if your tactical decisions prove incompetent, I'll ignore them and do what's necessary."
"Fair enough."
Marcus cleared his throat, drawing attention back to the map.
"Now that we've established command structure, let's discuss specific defensive measures."
The briefing continued for two hours, covering everything from ammunition distribution to civilian evacuation procedures. Czerny and his team proved professional and knowledgeable, offering suggestions that improved the overall defensive plan. Surtr contributed occasionally, usually to point out flaws or weakness with blunt accuracy.
By the time we finished, the sun was setting and we had a workable defensive strategy. Not perfect, but better than anything the settlement could have managed alone.
Marcus dismissed the meeting, and people dispersed to their assigned preparations. I stayed behind with Sussurro, helping organize medical supplies that would be needed during the battle.
"That went better than I expected."
Sussurro said quietly.
"Surtr actually listened to you. She usually doesn't listen to anyone."
"She respects strength more than authority."
"And she sees you as strong?"
"She sees me as interesting. Different thing, but it works."
Sussurro finished packing a medical kit and set it with others near the entrance.
"The operator team is staying in the administrative center. Marcus set up quarters for them there. You should probably rest too. Tomorrow we start fortification work, and that's going to be physically exhausting."
She was right. I needed rest, needed to be at full capability when the battle came.
I left the medical station and headed toward my inn, mind still processing the day's events. The Rhodes Island team added significant combat power, but coordination would be challenging. Surtr's personality made her both valuable asset and potential liability.
I would need to manage that carefully.
My danger sense pulsed as I neared the inn, warning of something approaching. I turned toward the forest beyond the northern gate, my enhanced perception picking up movement in the growing darkness.
Figures. Multiple figures, moving with tactical precision through the trees. Not attacking yet, just observing. Counting. Planning.
Reunion scouts, different from the ones who had entered the bar last night. These were professionals, actual military reconnaissance rather than aggressive thugs.
They were getting bolder. Coming closer to the settlement, probing defenses with increasing frequency.
The attack was coming soon. Maybe sooner than the system predicted.
I watched them for several minutes, tracking their movements and positions. Seven scouts total, spread across a two hundred meter frontage. Coordinated observation, professional discipline. These weren't fanatics, they were trained soldiers executing orders.
After confirming what they needed, the scouts withdrew, disappearing into the forest with practiced stealth.
I stood at the northern wall long after they left, my mind calculating and recalculating odds and outcomes. Forty eight hours until the predicted attack. Maybe less now that Reunion knew Rhodes Island had reinforcements.
Time was running out.
I returned to the inn and found sleep difficult despite exhaustion. The anticipation of violence created restless energy that refused to settle.
Around midnight, my danger sense flared sharply. Not scouts this time, but something else. Something wrong.
I rose and dressed quickly, armed myself and left the inn. The streets were empty, most of the settlement asleep. But my instinct pulled me toward the eastern wall, where smoke was beginning to rise against the night sky.
Fire. Someone had set fire to a warehouse near the wall, flames spreading rapidly through the wooden structure.
Sabotage. Reunion was accelerating their timeline, creating chaos before the main attack.
I ran toward the fire, arriving just as guards began organizing response. Marcus was already there, shouting orders about water buckets and fire breaks.
"Deliberate arson."
He told me when I approached.
"Someone infiltrated the settlement and set this fire. We're searching for them now but they probably already escaped."
The warehouse burned fiercely, flames consuming stored grain and equipment. Civilians emerged from nearby buildings, some helping fight the fire while others watched in horror.
This was Reunion's opening move. Destroy supplies, create panic, force the settlement to expend resources before the main assault. Classic destabilization tactic.
"It's starting."
I said quietly.
Marcus looked at me sharply.
"What do you mean?"
"The attack. It's not days away anymore. It's hours."
As if confirming my words, a new notification appeared.
[WARNING: Mission Timeline Updated]
[Reunion assault will occur in 6 hours]
[Prepare accordingly]
Six hours. Dawn would come in about four hours, and two hours after that the attack would begin.
No more time for preparation. No more chances to improve defenses.
The battle was here.
I helped coordinate the fire response, using Knight of Owner to wield tools and equipment with master level skill. The fire was contained within an hour, though the warehouse was a total loss.
As we finished, another figure emerged from the darkness.
Surtr, drawn by the flames like a moth to light. She stood at the edge of the fire zone, watching the smoldering ruins with an expression I couldn't quite read.
"Beautiful."
She said quietly.
"Fire always is. Destructive, chaotic, impossible to truly control. Honest, in a way people never are."
She looked at me.
"You said it's starting. The attack."
"Yes. Dawn or shortly after. They'll come with everything they have."
"Good."
Her staff materialized in her hand, wreathed in flames that made the warehouse fire look like a candle.
"I've been bored. It's time to remind Reunion why they should fear Rhodes Island."
Her heat intensified, the air around her shimmering with power barely contained.
"And if you prove competent in battle, I might actually remember your name afterward."
She walked away, heading toward the northern wall where the main attack would come.
I watched her go, then looked at the ruined warehouse and the frightened civilians and the tired guards who would be asked to fight and die in a few hours.