(The final warning before departure.)
The rain hadn’t started yet, but the sky was thinking about it. Gray clouds weighed heavy over the broken highway that led out of Nexus Prime, toward the forest line smeared against the horizon like a bruise.
Draven Holt’s voice was flat. Practiced. Like a man who’d given too many briefings for jobs no one came back from.
> “This path was classified. The mission isn’t. Everyone knows we hunt the Seed. And there’s only one road that leads there.”
> Vell: “Meaning…?”
Draven shifted his weight, boot grinding against gravel.
> “Meaning be ready. Bandits know. Scavengers know. Every damn zealot who thinks the Hollow is a curse knows.”
>
> “And so do the families of every poor bastard we sent before you.”
His eyes flicked toward the truck—a half-rusted personnel hauler armored just enough to pretend it was safe.
> “These people out there... they won’t be looking to scare you. They’ll be serious.”
> He paused. Let that settle.
> “So are we.”
Draven gestured lazily toward his squad prepping by the vehicle. Resonance shields unfolded on their forearms with a faint blue shimmer—thin, but strong enough to stop most kinetic fire.
> “My boys will be running shield lines. You’ll notice... you don’t have one.” He tapped the side of his rifle.
> “That’s because, as far as I’m concerned... creatures don’t shoot.”
> “If we run into people... that’s different. You’ll want to stay close. Stay behind the shield line. And make sure you're wearing the under-armor we issued you.”
His gaze settled on Lyra, then flicked to Gaius.
> “Otherwise? Stay in the truck. This is a fight, not a science fair.”
Vell scoffed under his breath.
> “Charming.”
> Gaius (dry): “Didn’t exactly pack the fine china either.”
Draven’s tone didn’t change.
> “Good. Keep it that way.”
The wind shifted. Out there, beyond the broken fence line, the forest loomed—waiting.
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