Back at SHU—
Nothing had calmed.
If anything—
It had gotten worse.
The sky itself had turned into a battlefield.
Figures clashed high above the complex, moving in violent bursts of motion that left streaks in the air. Some fought with bare fists, their strikes cracking against one another with force strong enough to ripple the air—
BOOM—! WHAM—!
Others hovered at varying heights, rifles braced against their shoulders as they fired in controlled bursts.
These weren't standard rounds.
Each shot carried weight.
When they struck, the impact tore through reinforced surfaces or sent bodies spiraling backward through the air.
The most disturbing part—
They all wore the same uniform.
UPSDF.
One soldier drove his fist into another's guard, the impact forcing both backward mid-air before they stabilized again.
"What are you doing, Chaplin!?" he shouted, voice strained as he raised his weapon again.
The man he faced didn't respond.
His expression remained blank.
Cold.
