Day 175. 06:00 hours.
Forbes Park.
The Peacock Mansion.
Rico stood at the gate. His M4 across his chest. His dark eyes on the two snow bikes idling in the courtyard. Four thermos containers strapped to the cargo racks.
Hua came out of the kitchen. Her crimson hair pulled back. An apron dusted with rice flour. Her hand on her stomach. Three and a half months along. She had not slept. Rice. Salted egg. Dried fish. Pickled mango. And lugaw.
The particular lugaw of a chef who made porridge every morning because porridge was warm and the crater rim was minus-seventy and the soldiers needed warm.
"Four thermos containers." Hua offered, her hand pressing against her stomach, her voice soft and fierce. "Two for the ridge group. Two for the compound team. The strike team eats the protein bars from the void. The lugaw is for the soldiers."
"The soldiers need warm." Rico rumbled, his dark eyes on the thermos containers.
Marie was beside him. Her notebook open. Six months pregnant. Her pen moving down the logistics sheet.
"Two bikes. Four thermos containers. Two riders." Marie offered, her pen moving. "Paolo is at the crater rim. Jae-min pulls food from the void when needed. But the hot food is on us. Every morning. Every evening. Two runs. The supply chain does not stop."
"The supply chain does not stop." Rico confirmed.
Two compound soldiers mounted the bikes. The thermos containers secured. The gate opened. The bikes rolled out into the frozen city. Two tracks cutting southeast. The gate closed. The compound held.
Hua's hand on her stomach. Marie's hand on her stomach. Two pregnant women standing at a gate in minus-seventy, watching two snow bikes disappear into a frozen city with thermos containers full of lugaw.
— • • • —
Day 175. 07:00 hours.
Ortigas.
The crater rim.
The first shift entered the cavity. Jae-min. Mark Jordan. The woman in white. Three figures descending into the wound.
At the crater rim, the war continued.
Paolo was at the ammunition station. His Sailor Moon doll propped against a crate. His clipboard in his hand. Behind him, crates of magazines, grenades, satchel charges, medical kits. All pulled from the void by Jae-min at 03:00. All organized by Paolo. All logged by Sofia.
Carmen was beside him. Lina, Esperanza, Sofia at the corners. Counting. Logging. Tracking. The Orgy Five. At war.
"Morning distribution." Paolo offered, his pen moving down the clipboard. "Ridge group. Two hundred and twelve M4 magazines. Two hundred and twelve Glock magazines. Twelve fragmentation grenades. Six satchel charges. Two cases nine-mil. Two cases five-five-six. One case medical. All serialized. All logged."
"Logged." Sofia confirmed, her dark eyes on the spreadsheet. "Every round. Every magazine. Every grenade. I know where every bullet is."
The ridge group soldiers filed past. One by one. Each one signing. Each one counting rounds. Two hundred and twelve soldiers. Two hundred and twelve signatures.
Commander Reyes was at the north end of the perimeter. His dark eyes on the frozen city. Three figures moving through the snow three hundred meters north. Scavengers. Coming toward the crater.
[Reyes]: "Contact north. Three figures. Three hundred meters. Moving south toward the crater." Reyes reported, his dark eyes on the figures.
[Vasquez]: "Vanguard Six copies. Three contacts. Three hundred meters. Moving south. We intercept." Vasquez confirmed, her pale brown eyes on the same figures.
[Vasquez]: "Move. North. Three hundred meters. Intercept. Non-lethal if possible. Lethal if necessary." Vasquez directed her four soldiers.
Vanguard Six moved. Four soldiers into the frozen city. Into the snow. Into the scavengers.
The war was not one war. The war was two. The Snake Woman below. The scavengers above. Both at the same time.
— • • • —
Day 175. 09:00 hours. The crater rim.
The first snake came out of the cavity at 09:00.
Aiko saw it first. Her black eyes on the targeting screen. The loupe clicking down.
"Contact." Aiko offered, her hands on the triggers. "Snake. Exiting the cavity. One. Five meters."
The twin M2HBs tracked. Aiko fired. The snake burst. Gone.
"One down." Aiko offered, her black eyes still on the screen. "But more. The targeting screen is showing movement. More snakes. In the tunnel. Coming up."
[Reyes]: "Ridge group. Cavity perimeter. Snakes exiting the tunnel. Weapons free. Do not let the snakes reach the crater rim." Reyes commanded.
"Copy." the ridge group echoed. Two hundred and twelve soldiers. M4s shouldered. Glocks drawn.
The first wave. Ten snakes. Emerging from the cavity entrance. The ridge group fired. M4s. Glocks. Two hundred and twelve soldiers on ten snakes. The snakes were gone in three seconds.
But more came. Aiko fired. The twin M2HBs. Another snake gone. And another. The Hellfire holding the tunnel mouth.
The ridge group held the crater. The Hellfire held the tunnel. The snakes were cut. But more came.
The war was three. The Snake Woman below. The snakes above. The scavengers north. All at the same time.
— • • • —
Day 175. 12:30 hours.
The crater rim.
The field hospital.
Alessia stood at the field hospital. Her blue eyes on the cavity entrance. Team A should be out at 13:00. Thirty minutes.
The field hospital had been busy. Not strike team casualties. Snake casualties. Ridge group soldiers who had been bitten. The acid venom. Three soldiers. Three burns. Three treatments. Flush with saline, debride, bandage, morphine. Alessia had treated them. The soldiers were resting. Alive. Healing.
But the clock. Thirty minutes. Team A was due.
Jennifer was at the comms station. Her icy-blue eyes on the monitors. Her telepathy not extending. Monitoring. She could feel the compound. She could feel the crater rim. But she could not feel the cavity. The void principle. Three holes in the world where people should be. Jae-min. Ji-yoo. Yue.
[Jennifer]: "Team A. Status check. You are due out in thirty minutes. Confirm." Jennifer broadcast.
Static.
Jennifer's icy-blue eyes narrowed. She adjusted the frequency. Boosted the signal.
[Jennifer]: "Team A. Status check. Confirm. Over." Jennifer repeated.
Static.
Elena Cortez was at the thermal rig. Her black eyes on the readout. Three thermal signatures. Jae-min. Mark Jordan. The woman in white. Moving. Fighting. Active. Alive.
But the Snake Woman's thermal signature was spiking. Hotter. Doing something. Not just fighting. Adapting.
"Doctor." Elena Cortez offered, her black eyes on the readout. "The thermal signature. The Snake Woman is spiking. She is doing something. The strike team is still active. Three signatures, moving. But the Snake Woman is hotter. She is changing."
Alessia's blue eyes went sharp. Comms dead. Thermal spiking. Team A overdue. The dots connecting.
"Jennifer." Alessia pressed, her voice gentle but urgent. "Try again. Loud. The cavity might be blocking the signal."
Jennifer adjusted the comms. Boosted the signal to maximum.
[Jennifer]: "Team A. This is crater rim. Status check. Confirm. Over." Jennifer broadcast.
Static. Then a crackle. Then a voice. Garbled. Broken.
"Crater. Collapse." Jae-min's voice. Garbled. Distant. "Tunnel. Blocked. Cannot."
Then static. Dead.
Alessia's blue eyes went wide. Collapse. Tunnel. Blocked. Cannot.
"The tunnel is collapsed." Alessia breathed, her blue eyes on Jennifer. "The Snake Woman collapsed the tunnel. Team A is trapped."
Jennifer's icy-blue eyes went wide. The wide of a telepath who could not feel the strike team and was relying on comms. And the comms were dead. One garbled message. Collapse. Tunnel. Blocked. Cannot.
"Ji-yoo." Alessia pressed, turning. Her blue eyes finding the cot where Ji-yoo was resting.
Not sleeping. Resting. Soulcleaver dissolved. Her dark eyes open. The void bond humming. Not with words. With presence. Jae-min's presence. Faint. But there. Alive. Trapped.
Ji-yoo was already on her feet. The void bond transmitted presence. And Jae-min's presence was there. Faint. Distant. But there. The faint of a twin who could feel her brother was alive and could not reach him.
"Yue. Gabriel." Ji-yoo pressed, her voice fierce, her dark eyes blazing. "Suit up. We go in. Now."
Yue was on her feet. Her jian across her palms. Her marble eyes steady.
Gabriel was on her feet. Bouncing. Her knee-length black hair swinging. Her gold eyes bright. The bright was back. Not bright enough for what they were about to do. But all she had.
"Team B." Alessia pressed, her voice gentle. "Go. Find them. Get them out. The field hospital is ready. Go."
Team B moved. Three figures. Ji-yoo on point. Soulcleaver manifested. The dimensional edge humming. Yue on the left. Gabriel on the right. Three figures descending into the wound.
Alessia watched them go. Her blue eyes on the cavity entrance. Her hands steady. The steady of a doctor who was not operating. Who was waiting. Who could not go in and could not fight and could only wait and heal.
Mei was at the crater rim. Her wheelchair lashed to the cargo bike. Chocho in her lap. The tablet on her knees. The model rotating. Chocho clicked. Fast. Continuous.
The white fox's blue eyes wide. Her ears flat against her skull. Her body rigid in Mei's lap. The clicking that had been steady for days was now frantic.
"Chocho." Mei offered, her hand on the fox's head, her voice quiet. "What is it. What do you feel."
Chocho clicked. Fast. The clicking of a fox who could feel a heartbeat through the ground and had just felt a heartbeat change. The heartbeat had been steady. The heartbeat was now erratic.
Mei's dark eyes went to the fox. Then to the cavity entrance. Then to the tablet. Her fingers flew across the screen. Running a manual scan. Pushing the model to update. The scan would take three minutes.
Three minutes.
— • • • —
Day 175. 13:15 hours.
The cavity.
The tunnel.
Team B descended. The Hellfire was not with them. Too wide for the tunnel now. The tunnel had changed. The organic walls had shifted. Grown. The walls were closer. The tunnel was narrower.
Ji-yoo's gravity-shift sense extended. One kilometer. The tunnel ahead. The blockage. Thirty meters ahead. The tunnel collapsed. Not rock. Not earth. Organic. The Snake Woman had grown it. A wall sealing the tunnel.
"The tunnel is blocked." Ji-yoo offered, her dark eyes on the blockage. "Thirty meters. Organic. The Snake Woman grew it. Team A is behind it."
"Can you cut it." Gabriel offered, her gold eyes on the tunnel.
"Soulcleaver cuts space." Ji-yoo confirmed. "The wall is in space. Soulcleaver will cut it."
She raised Soulcleaver. The dimensional edge humming. She swung. The wall split. A gap. Two meters wide. Three meters tall.
Through the gap. The chamber.
The chamber was smaller. The walls eaten. The Snake Woman had consumed the organic material. Had grown. Was no longer eight meters. Was ten meters. Filling the chamber.
The Snake Woman had changed. Not just bigger. More arms. Four. Six. Eight. Eight arms. Tendrils that had become arms. Reaching. Herding. Keeping Team A from the tunnel. From the exit.
Team A was pinned.
Jae-min. Mark Jordan. The woman in white. Three people at the center of the chamber. Fighting. Alive. But not free.
Jae-min was firing. Dual Glocks. Wormhole Guided Bullets. The bullets wormholed through the arms. The arms regrew. The team's true marksman reduced to handguns in a chamber too close for the Surgeon Scalpel Rifle.
Mark Jordan was burning. The Black Hell Flame in his palm. The flame hit the arms. The arms burned. Regrew.
The woman in white was climbing. On the Snake Woman's back. Driving katanas into the scales. The scales did not pierce. But the impacts. The arms flinched. Did not stop.
"Oppa." Ji-yoo breathed, her dark eyes on Jae-min through the gap.
"Team B." Ji-yoo pressed, her voice fierce. "Through the gap. We fight. We free Team A. The Snake Woman has grown. Eight arms. She has eaten the walls. She is bigger. But we are six. We go in."
"Copy." Yue confirmed, her marble eyes on the chamber.
"Copy~." Gabriel confirmed, her gold eyes on the chamber, her wind cage forming.
Team B went through the gap. Into the chamber. Three joining three. Six. The strike team was six again. Whole. In a chamber with a thing that had grown ten meters tall and had eight arms and was waiting.
"Welcome." The Snake Woman offered, her voice low, her yellow eyes on Team B. The smile too wide. The fangs too long. "Welcome to my home."
The eight arms spread. Reaching. Closing.
— • • • —
Day 175. 13:20 hours.
The cavity.
The chamber.
The battle.
Six against one. The chamber was a cage. Forty meters across. Ten meters high. The walls eaten. The floor organic. The ceiling breathing.
The Snake Woman filled a third of it. Ten meters. Eight arms. Titanium scales. Yellow eyes. Fangs.
And the hair. The black strands that were not hair and were not snakes. The strands that moved on their own. The strands that had been writhing slowly since the chrysalis.
The strands that were now moving. Fast.
The strike team engaged.
Ji-yoo swung Soulcleaver. The dimensional punch. The reversed edge. The push that bypassed the scales and hit the body beneath. The push traveled through the titanium. Into the Snake Woman's chest. The Snake Woman coughed. Blood.
Mark Jordan burned. The Black Hell Flame in his palm. He pushed the flame at the Snake Woman's left side. The titanium scales melted. The organic material beneath incinerated. The left arm burned. Severed. But the stump regrew.
Yue Blinked. Thirty meters. Behind the Snake Woman. The jian thrust at the back of the knee. The joint. The gap in the scales. The jian pierced. The Snake Woman's leg buckled. Yue Blinked back.
Gabriel dove. Mach 1.5. The wind cage forming around two of the Snake Woman's arms. She compressed. The arms cracked. Crushed. Regrowing.
Jae-min fired. Dual Glocks. Wormhole Guided Bullets. At the joints. The bullets wormholed inside the joints. 9mm hollow points in unarmored gaps. The Snake Woman screamed. Blood from the joints.
The woman in white climbed. The katanas drawn. She jumped. Landed on the Snake Woman's back. Drove the right-hand katana into the neck. The scales did not pierce. But the impact. The Snake Woman's head snapped forward.
The woman in white drove the left-hand katana into the Snake Woman's eye. The eye burst. The Snake Woman screamed.
The Snake Woman was hurting. Internal damage accumulating. Joints bleeding. Two arms crushed. One arm severed. The eye burst. Losing.
The Snake Woman screamed. Not a hiss. A scream. The scream of a woman who was hurt and afraid and panicking. The chamber shook. The walls shook. The floor shook.
And then the hair moved.
Not the slow writhing. Not the lazy serpentine movement. The hair moved. Fast. All of it. Every strand. Every black strand that hung past the Snake Woman's waist.
The strands rigid. Straight. Hard. Organic material becoming metal. The strands became cables. Steel cables. Thin. Sharp. Things that had been hair and were now blades. Two hundred strands. Two hundred steel cables.
The hair whipped.
The fast of steel cables cutting air. A whistling. A hissing. Not the hissing of snakes. The hissing of steel.
The first lash missed. A steel cable whipped through the air where Ji-yoo had been standing. Ji-yoo had moved. The cable hit the cavity floor. The floor split. A meter deep.
"Her hair!" Ji-yoo pressed, her dark eyes on the whipping cables. "The hair is steel. Steel cables. They cut. Do not let them touch you."
The second lash came. At Ji-yoo. Three cables. Three steel cables whipping toward her from three directions. Left. Right. Above.
The Snake Woman had decided. Kill the reaper. The reaper who punches through space. The reaper who hurts from the inside. Kill the reaper first.
Ji-yoo saw the cables. Three. Coming. Fast. She could not cut all three. Soulcleaver could cut one. Maybe two. Not three. Not from three directions.
She swung Soulcleaver. The dimensional edge cut the left cable. The cable fell in two pieces. She swung again. The right cable fell.
The third cable came from above. Descending. Fast. A steel cable falling from the ceiling. Going to hit her. Going to impale her.
Gabriel hit Ji-yoo.
Not a cable. Gabriel. A woman who could fly at Mach 1.5 and had flown. Not at the Snake Woman. At Ji-yoo.
A woman who had seen the cable. The third cable. From above. Coming down at Ji-yoo. And had reacted. Not a decision. A reaction. The reaction of a woman whose body moved before her mind.
Gabriel's shoulder hit Ji-yoo's ribs. The collision of a woman moving at Mach 1.5 hitting a woman who was standing still. Ji-yoo flew sideways. Three meters. Airborne. Not where the cable was going to be.
The cable came down. Where Ji-yoo had been standing. The cable hit the floor. The floor split. Deep.
Ji-yoo was alive. Gabriel had saved her.
But Gabriel had hit Ji-yoo at Mach 1.5. And Ji-yoo had been standing next to Jae-min. And Jae-min had been standing next to Ji-yoo. And when Gabriel hit Ji-yoo and Ji-yoo flew sideways, Jae-min was exposed.
His twin was three meters away. And the man was alone. In the path.
Not the cable from above. The cable from above had hit the floor. But the Snake Woman had sent more. Not three. More. The Snake Woman had whipped every strand. Every cable. At everyone. The chamber was filled with steel cables.
Two cables came at Jae-min. From the left. From the right. Flanking.
Jae-min saw the left cable. He dodged right. The left cable missed.
The right cable did not miss.
The right cable hit Jae-min's right side. Below the ribs. Between the seventh and eighth ribs. The intercostal space. The gap where there was no bone.
The cable passed through the intercostal space and entered the right lung. Pierced. Through. Still inside. Lodged. The lung collapsing. Filling with blood.
The Snake Woman pulled. The cable withdrew. Pulling tissue and blood with it. A hole in Jae-min's right side. Bleeding.
A second cable hit. The left thigh. The cable entered the front of the thigh. Through the quadriceps. Hit bone. The femur cracked. Not broke. Cracked. The bone held. Barely. Not going to hold the man's weight.
Jae-min fell.
The fall of a man whose right lung was collapsing and whose left femur was cracked. On the floor. The organic floor receiving him. Holding a man who was bleeding.
He coughed. The cough of a man whose right lung was filling with blood. Blood. Dark red. Coming out of his mouth. On his chin. On his chest. On the floor.
"Oppa!" Ji-yoo screamed.
The scream of a twin who had seen her brother fall. A twin who had been three meters away and had not been able to reach him. A twin who had been hit by Gabriel and sent flying and was on the floor herself and was watching.
Watching her brother. On the floor. Bleeding. Coughing. Gasping.
The void bond flared. The flare of a connection that was agony. The agony of a twin who could feel her brother's pain through the bond. The pain of a collapsed lung and a cracked femur transmitted through a connection that had been there since the womb.
A bond that did not transmit words but transmitted everything else.
Ji-yoo was on her feet. Running. Not fighting. Running. To her brother. She dropped Soulcleaver. The weapon that had been in her hands for two days. Dropped. On the floor.
The weapon that did not matter. The brother mattered.
She was beside him. On her knees. Her hands on his chest. Feeling the blood. Feeling the wound. The hole in his right side. Below the ribs. Bleeding. The hole that was a collapsed lung.
"Oppa. Oppa, stay with me." Ji-yoo breathed, her dark eyes on his face, her hands on his chest, her voice not fierce. Not quiet. Not anything. Just a twin holding her brother. "Stay with me. Stay with me."
Her dark eyes were wet. The wet of a twin who did not cry. The twin who was fierce and quiet and did not cry. Crying.
The tears on her face. The tears she did not wipe. The tears that were there because her brother was on the floor and his blood was on her hands and the void bond was screaming.
Mark Jordan turned.
The amber eyes going wide. The wide of a man who understood. The professor who measured everything and was measuring nothing because the man on the floor was not a measurement.
The man on the floor was Jae-min. The captain. The man who had given him Ifrit's Hell Katana. The man who had given him a home. The man who was bleeding.
"Jae-min." Mark Jordan breathed, his voice not dry. His voice not measuring. Just a voice. The voice of a man who was afraid.
The professor who did not show emotion. Showing it. The amber eyes wet. The hand on the katana trembling. The trembling of hands that held a blade that burned at fifty-five hundred degrees and were trembling because the man on the floor was not getting up.
Yue saw.
The marble eyes on Jae-min. On the floor. On the blood. The blood that was his. The husband who was not standing. The husband who was on the ground.
The marble cracked.
The cracked of a composure that had been perfect. Unbroken. Not once. Not since the Threshold. Not since the freeze. Not since the compound. Not since the war. Not once.
The marble that had been unbreakable. Cracked.
The marble eyes went wet. The wet of eyes that had not been wet. Not once. Not since the Threshold. Not since the freeze. Not since the compound. Not since the war. Not once.
The eyes that were marble and were now not marble. Wet. Human.
The wet of a woman who was crying. The crying of a woman who did not cry. The composure shattered.
The woman who was not Yue. Not the marble. Not the still. Not the calm. A wife. A wife whose husband was on the floor. Bleeding. Coughing. Gasping. Dying.
"Jae-min!" Yue screamed.
The scream of a woman whose voice had never gone above even. The voice that was breaking. Raw.
The raw of a woman who was not controlling. The control gone. The control that had been everything. Everything. Gone.
She ran. Not Blinked. Ran. The running of a woman who did not run. The woman who Blinked. The woman who was now running because the Blink was a weapon and the weapon was for fighting and this was not fighting.
This was her husband. On the floor. And the woman was running. Running. The thirty meters between her and Jae-min. Running.
The running of a wife who could cross thirty meters in a single step and was choosing to run because running was human and the woman was human and the human was running to her husband.
Yue was beside Jae-min. On her knees. The knees of a woman who did not kneel. On the floor.
Her hands on his chest. The hands that held a jian and were steady and were now shaking. The shaking of hands that had never shaken.
The hands on a man's chest. Feeling blood. The blood of a wound beneath her hands. The wound that was bleeding. The man whose wife was holding him and was crying.
"Jae-min. Jae-min." Yue breathed, her voice raw, her hands on his chest, her marble eyes wet. The voice that had never broken. Broken. "Stay with me. Stay with me. Do not. Do not leave me. Do not."
The woman in white saw.
From the Snake Woman's back. From the position she had made hers. She saw. Jae-min. On the floor. Bleeding. The man she loved. On the floor. Bleeding.
She did not scream. She could not scream. She did not speak. She could not speak.
The voice was there. Behind the balaclava. Behind the goggles. Behind the silence. The voice that would cost her everything if she used it. The voice she was not going to use.
Not now. Not when the man she loved was on the floor and his blood was coming out of his body and his lung was collapsed and his leg was cracked and his wife was holding him and his twin was holding him and the professor was standing over them with wet eyes.
The tears came. Behind the goggles. Behind the balaclava. The tears that no one could see.
The tears that ran down the inside of the lenses and fogged the glass and blurred the world. The tears of a woman whose face was covered and whose tears were covered and whose love was covered.
Crying. Silently. On the back of a Snake Woman. In a cavity thirty meters below a crater.
Not the Snake Woman. Only him. Only the man on the floor. The man she loved and had never told him and was watching him bleed.
Her hands tightened on the katanas. The tightened of hands that wanted to go to him. To kneel beside him. To hold him. To put her hands on his chest and stop the bleeding.
The hands that could not go to him. The hands that were on katanas. The hands that were on the back of the thing that had done this.
The tears stopped. Not because they were done. Because the fury came.
The fury of a woman whose tears became fuel. The fuel of a woman who was angry. The fury of a woman who was going to kill this thing. This thing that had hurt the man she loved.
She drove the katana down. Into the Snake Woman's neck. Hard. Harder than before. Not fighting. Punishing.
The punishing of a woman whose tears were fuel and whose fuel was fury and whose fury was in the blade.
She stabbed. Again. Again. Again. The katanas driving down. Into the neck. Into the scales. The scales did not pierce. But the impacts.
The impacts of steel on titanium driven by a woman who was crying and was furious and was not holding back. Harder.
The harder of a woman who was everything. All of it. The love. The trust. The fury. The tears.
Striking. Not for the strike team. Not for the war. For him. For the man on the floor. For the man she loved. For the man who was bleeding.
Gabriel landed. Beside Ji-yoo. The gold eyes on Jae-min. The gold eyes that were not bright.
The bright gone. Replaced. The replaced of a bright that was horror.
The horror of a woman who had saved Ji-yoo and exposed Jae-min. The exposed of a woman whose tackle had moved Ji-yoo and left Jae-min alone.
The alone of a man who had been next to his twin and was not next to his twin because Gabriel had moved his twin. Gabriel. The woman who had done this.
Not the Snake Woman. Not the cable. Gabriel. The woman who had hit Ji-yoo at Mach 1.5 and had sent Ji-yoo flying and had left Jae-min in the path.
"I." Gabriel breathed, her gold eyes on Jae-min, her voice not bright. Breaking. "I hit. I hit Ji-yoo. To save. And Jae-min. He was. He was."
She could not finish. The guilt of a woman who had saved one person and the cost was the man on the floor.
Her gold eyes were wet. The wet of a woman who was crying. The crying of a woman whose bright was armor and whose armor was gone.
The gone of a bright that had been everything and was now not enough. The not-enough of a woman who was on her knees and was crying and was guilty and was afraid.
"Gabriel." Ji-yoo breathed, her dark eyes on Gabriel, her hands on Jae-min's chest, her voice not fierce. Not blaming. Not angry. "It is not your fault. You saved me. The Snake Woman. She did this. Not you."
Gabriel's gold eyes went wetter. The wetter of a woman who had been told it was not her fault and was not believing it.
[Ji-yoo]: "Crater rim. Medical. Now. Jae-min is down. Right lung collapsed. Left femur cracked. He is bleeding. He is unconscious. We need Alessia. Now." Ji-yoo broadcast, her voice breaking through the comms.
[Jennifer]: "Copy. Copy. Alessia. Team A is down. Jae-min is down. Right lung, left femur. He is unconscious." Jennifer relayed, her icy-blue eyes wide, her hands shaking on the comms rig.
Jennifer's icy-blue eyes went wet. The wet of a telepath who was listening to a frequency she could not feel and was hearing words she did not want to hear.
Jae-min is down. Right lung. Left femur. Bleeding. Unconscious.
Her hand went to her mouth. The pressing of a telepath who could feel the crater rim's emotions and could not feel the cavity's pain.
Alessia's fear. Mei's dread. Elena Cortez's shock. Paolo's wide eyes. The emotions of a crater rim that had heard the comms.
[Alessia]: "I am coming. Team B. Keep pressure on the wound. The right side. Below the ribs. Pack it. Pack it with anything. Cloth. Gauze. Pack it. Do not let him move. Do not move his left leg. I am coming." Alessia directed, her blue eyes clinical, her voice crisp, her hands already pulling the trauma kit.
Alessia heard the comms. Jae-min is down. Right lung. Left femur. Bleeding. Unconscious.
Her blue eyes went clinical. The clinical of a doctor who had heard the worst and was not going to feel the worst. Not yet. Not now.
Now the doctor was the doctor. Now the hands were the hands. Now the voice was the voice. The doctor. The hands. The voice. The trauma kit. The gauze. The morphine. The scalpel. The chest tube.
The doctor who had a husband in a cavity and was not going to fall apart because the doctor was needed and the doctor was going in.
Her hands did not shake. The not-shake of a doctor whose hands had been trained to not shake. The trained of hands that had held scalpels and chest tubes and syringes and were not going to shake because the hands were needed and the hands were going in.
Into the cavity. Into the wound. To the man on the floor. To the husband who was bleeding. To the captain who was down.
"Paolo." Alessia pressed, her blue eyes on the quartermaster, her voice crisp. "Pull a chest tube kit from the void. Large bore. 28 French. And a traction splint. For the femur. And morphine. Four auto-injectors. And a surgical light. Portable. Now."
Paolo's black eyes went wide. The wide of a quartermaster who had heard the comms and had heard the doctor.
His hands were already moving. The moving of a quartermaster who had been pulling from the void for days and was now pulling for the captain. The captain who was down. The captain who was bleeding.
"Jae-min." Paolo breathed, his black eyes wide behind his cracked eyeglasses, his hand on his Sailor Moon doll.
The afraid of a quartermaster who had followed a captain into a war and was now hearing that the captain was down.
He pulled the kit from the void. The chest tube. The traction splint. The morphine. The surgical light. All in his hands.
The hands of a quartermaster who was shaking. The shaking of hands that had been steady for days and were now shaking because the captain was down.
"Here." Paolo offered, his voice cracking, his hands extending the kit to Alessia. "Here. Everything. The chest tube. The splint. The morphine. The light. Everything."
Alessia took the kit. Her hands steady. His hands shaking. The steady taking from the shaking. The doctor taking from the quartermaster.
"Jae-min is down." Carmen offered, her dark eyes sharp, her hand on Paolo's shoulder.
The hand of a woman who had been rescued twenty days ago and was now hearing that the captain was down. The captain who had given her a weapon and a purpose and a post.
Lina put her hand on Paolo's other shoulder. Esperanza put her hand on his arm. Sofia looked up from the spreadsheet. Her dark eyes on Paolo.
The spreadsheet forgotten. The rounds uncounted. The magazines unlogged. The spreadsheet that did not matter because the captain was down.
Sailor Moon watched from the ammunition crate. Her vinyl smile permanent. Her painted eyes steady.
The steady of a doll who had been through the apocalypse with a man who loved her and was now watching the man's hands shake.
Aiko was in the gunner's seat. Her black eyes on the targeting screen. The targeting screen that showed the cavity entrance. The cavity entrance that was dark.
The dark of a tunnel that was blocked and a team that was inside and a captain who was down. The down of a captain she had built a war machine for.
The war machine that was idling at the crater rim and was not in the cavity. Not where the captain was. Not where the captain needed it.
Aiko's black eyes went wet. The wet of a mechanic whose loupe was fogging. The fogging of a loupe that was not designed for tears.
The tears of a mechanic who did not cry and was crying. The crying of a woman whose hands were on triggers and whose eyes were on a screen and whose heart was in a cavity thirty meters below a crater where a man was bleeding.
"Jae-min." Aiko breathed, her voice soft, her black eyes on the screen, her loupe fogging.
Mei was at the crater rim. Chocho in her lap. The tablet on her knees. The scan she had pushed to update. The scan that had completed.
The scan that showed.
The scan showed the strike team. Six signatures. In the chamber. One of the signatures was different. One of the signatures was lower. Cooler.
The cooler of a body that was losing heat. The losing-heat of a body that was bleeding. The signature that was Jae-min. The signature that was fading.
Mei's dark eyes went wide. The wide of a data analyst who had run the numbers and had gotten an answer she did not want.
The answer that was a fading thermal signature. The answer that was a captain who was losing heat. The answer that was a man who was bleeding.
"His signature is fading." Mei offered, her voice quiet, her dark eyes on the tablet, her hand on Chocho's head.
The fox clicking. Frantic. The frantic of a fox who had known before the numbers. The fox who had known for three minutes.
Chocho clicked. Frantic. The clicking of a fox who could feel the heartbeat through the ground. The heartbeat that had been steady. The heartbeat that was now erratic.
The erratic of a heart that was trying to keep a man alive while the man's lung was full of blood and the man's leg was cracked and the man was on a floor.
Alessia moved. The trauma kit in her hands. The chest tube. The splint. The morphine. The light.
The kit that was heavy and was not heavy enough. The kit that was everything she had and was not everything she needed.
"Mei." Alessia pressed, her blue eyes on the data analyst, her voice clinical. "Watch the thermal. If his signature drops below 34 degrees, tell me. Immediately. That is the threshold. Below 34, we are losing him."
"We are not losing him." Mei offered, her voice quiet, her dark eyes on the tablet, her hand on Chocho's head.
The quiet of a data analyst who was watching numbers and was not watching numbers. Was watching a man. Was watching a man's heat. Was watching a man's heat leave his body. Was watching a man fade.
"We are not losing him." Mei repeated, her voice quiet. To herself. To the fox. To the tablet. To the numbers that were not a man and were a man.
Alessia descended. Into the cavity. Into the wound. Into the tunnel. Into the organic walls that were pulsing and breathing and closing in.
Into the blockage that Ji-yoo had cut. Through the gap. Into the chamber. Into the steam. Into the smell of reptile. Into the blood.
Into the floor where her husband was lying. Bleeding. Coughing. Gasping.
She saw him.
Her blue eyes found him. On the floor. Ji-yoo's hands on his chest. Yue's hands on his face. Mark Jordan standing over them. Gabriel on her knees.
The woman in white on the Snake Woman's back, stabbing, driving katanas down, her body a machine of fury and tears.
Jae-min. On the floor. His dark eyes closed. His mouth bloody. His right side a hole. His left leg at an angle that legs should not be.
His body still. Too still. The still of a man who was not moving.
Her blue eyes did not go wide. Her hands did not shake. Her voice did not break.
The doctor was the doctor. The doctor was the doctor because the doctor had to be the doctor because if the doctor was not the doctor then the doctor was a wife and a wife could only feel.
And feeling was not helping. Helping was the chest tube. Helping was the gauze. Helping was the morphine. Helping was the scalpel and the light and the hands that did not shake.
The doctor knelt. Beside her husband. Her hands on the wound.
The wound that was below the ribs. Between the seventh and eighth ribs. The intercostal space. The hole where the steel cable had entered and exited and left a wound that was bleeding.
The wound that was a collapsed lung. The wound that was killing him.
"Ji-yoo. Hands here. Pressure. Both hands. Do not stop." Alessia directed, her voice clinical, her hands guiding Ji-yoo's hands to the wound.
The wound that was on her husband's body. The body she knew. The body she had held. The body that was now a wound. The body that was now a doctor's patient.
The patient that was her husband. The husband who was not her husband right now. Right now the husband was a patient. The patient was a collapsed lung. The collapsed lung was a chest tube. The chest tube was in her hands.
The hands that did not shake.
"Yue. Hold his head. Keep his airway open. Tilt his chin. Do not let him choke on the blood." Alessia directed, her voice clinical, her hands opening the chest tube kit.
The kit that was sterile. The sterile of a kit that was going into a cavity that was not sterile. The not-sterile of a chamber that was organic and alive and breathing and was not an operating room.
"Gabriel." Alessia pressed, her voice clinical, her eyes not leaving the wound. "Wind cage. Around us. Around the operating area. Sterile field. Keep the snakes out. Keep the blood out. Keep everything out. I need a sterile field. The wind cage is my sterile field."
"Copy." Gabriel confirmed, her gold eyes wet, her voice not bright.
The not-bright of a woman who had been given a task and was doing the task because the task was better than the guilt. The guilt that was still there. The guilt that would always be there.
The guilt of a woman who had saved one person and the cost was the man on the floor.
Gabriel raised her hands. The wind cage formed. Around the operating area. Around Alessia. Around Jae-min. Around Ji-yoo and Yue.
A dome of compressed air. The sterile field of a doctor who was operating in a cavity.
Alessia cut. The scalpel. The incision between the ribs. The first cut of a chest tube insertion.
The cut that was on her husband's body. The body she knew. The body she had traced with her fingers in the onsen. The body she had pressed against in the Double King.
The body that was now a patient. The patient that was now a chest tube. The chest tube that was going into the space between the ribs and the lung. The space that was full of blood.
The blood came. Dark. Through the tube. Into the collection bag. The bag that was filling.
The filling of a bag that was her husband's blood. The blood that was leaving his body.
"Blood loss is significant." Alessia offered, her voice clinical.
The clinical of a doctor who was reporting on her own husband. The doctor who was not a wife. Was a doctor.
Was a doctor because the doctor was needed and the wife was not needed. The wife could only feel and feeling was not helping.
Helping was the chest tube. The chest tube was in. The blood was draining. The lung was re-expanding. The doctor was helping.
Her hands were steady. Her voice was clinical. Her eyes were on the wound.
Her husband was on the floor. Her hands were in his chest.
The two things. The two things that were. Were.
She was not feeling.
She was the doctor.
The doctor was the doctor.
The void trembled. Saem held. The Snake Woman fought. The woman in white stabbed.
The strike team was broken. The captain was down. The doctor was operating.
The twin was holding pressure. The wife was holding his head. The professor was standing guard. The woman who could fly was holding the wind cage. The woman in white was punishing the Snake Woman.
The war was on. The captain was down. The doctor was operating.
The war was on.