Morning returned to Atlas Base quietly.
The celebration had ended long before sunrise, but traces of it remained everywhere. Empty tables stood in the courtyard, lantern strings sagged between wooden posts, and the smell of smoke still clung faintly to the air. A few soldiers moved through the open space collecting cups and plates while mess hall workers packed away the last of the supplies. The base looked tired, but not broken. For once, it looked tired in the ordinary way people did after too much food, too much laughter, and too little sleep.
