The first rays of dawn crept through the battered windows of the medical wing, washing the room in a pale, uncertain light. The team stirred awake, each one weighed down by the events of the night before.
Jessica rose first, stretching out the stiffness in her back. She blinked sleep from her eyes, her gaze settling on Simon's motionless form. His breathing was slow but steady, his chest rising and falling with the soft, mechanical rhythm of the machines that kept him alive.
She reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "We're still here," she whispered. "We're not leaving."
In a nearby laboratory deep within the base, Colonel Cameron watched as researchers carefully disassembled pieces of the battered energy shield and the blackened fragments of the sword. Sparks flickered under their precise welding, and screens glowed with blueprints and data readouts.
Dr. Hale looked up from her station, her eyes thoughtful. "Colonel," she said, her tone steady, "we've begun reverse-engineering the shield's core. It's advanced—far beyond what we have. But it will take time."
Dr. Levin added, adjusting a dial. "We're not touching Simon himself. Our work stays here—on the tech alone."
Cameron nodded. "Good. I want results, but not at the cost of turning him into something else. Focus on the equipment—it can help others. But Simon… he's done enough."
Back in the medical wing, Captain William had managed to sit up, wincing at the dull ache in his ribs. He watched Jessica fuss over Simon, her movements careful, almost ritualistic.
"Jess," he said gently. She turned, her eyes tired but determined. "You need to rest too."
"I can't," she whispered. "Not until he wakes up."
William let out a soft sigh, leaning back. His eyes drifted to memories from years before: Simon, fresh out of training at eighteen, green but determined. William had been a Captain already, leading missions against drug dealers and terrorists—raids that taught them both the meaning of brotherhood and survival.
He remembered one mission in particular. Simon had hesitated at a river crossing, doubt clouding his young eyes. Without a second thought, William had grabbed him by the vest and tossed him in, telling him to "cool his damn head." He could still hear the splash, still see the shocked look on Simon's face—so young, so determined to prove himself.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of William's lips. "We've been through hell before, Simon," he thought. "You always found a way back."
Markus stood near the window, his gaze lost in the pale dawn. His thoughts drifted to a memory he hadn't touched in years—his older brother, sick and frail, lying in bed in their small house. Markus remembered the worry that gnawed at him, the endless nights listening to shallow, ragged breaths.
He remembered the relief—how his brother had recovered, how they'd laughed again. But then the day came when his brother packed a bag and left for England, chasing a future Markus couldn't follow.
The memory left a hollow ache in his chest. "I let you go because you needed it," he thought. "But I won't let go of Simon. I won't let anyone else slip away."
His jaw tightened as he turned back to the bed. "These demons…" he murmured, his voice low and cold. "I swear to God, I won't let a single one of them see the end of their days."
Jessica's thoughts drifted too. She sat at Simon's side, her thumb brushing lightly over his wrist, feeling the faint pulse beneath the bandages. Her mind went back to a bright, sterile hospital room where her grandmother lay dying.
She remembered the warmth of her grandmother's hand, the quiet comfort in her voice. She remembered the single moment she'd stepped out to get water—just a moment. When she returned, her grandmother was gone. She'd dropped the cup and fallen to her knees, sobbing, "I shouldn't have left. I shouldn't have left."
Tears welled in her eyes at the memory. "I won't leave you this time," she whispered to Simon, her voice shaking. "I'll be here. I promise."
The doors to the medical wing swung open. Colonel Cameron stepped inside, his gaze cool and assessing. Dr. Hale followed close behind, her eyes scanning the room with quiet curiosity. They paused as their gaze settled on Alucard standing near the door, a heavy laser gun resting in his hands.
Cameron's brow furrowed slightly. "That weapon," he said calmly. "It's… unusual. What is it?"
Jessica looked up from Simon's bedside, her voice quiet but firm. "It's a laser gun," she said. "I found it when I entered a strange portal in the school… I found the gun, a strange grenade, an energy sword, and a strange shield that was able to save me from the demon lord and—" She paused, her hand resting gently on Simon's head. "It saved him too. Multiple times."
Cameron's eyes narrowed slightly, curiosity piqued. "You said a portal? What portal? And what did you see there?"
Jessica took a slow breath, her eyes distant. "It might seem crazy, but I saw a very, very large dragon… a demon lord and his squad. And then… I saw a group of robots working on a large spaceship—like two plates on top of each other. There was this arsenal there… that's where I grabbed these weapons from."
Dr. Hale's eyes shone with interest. "Can I borrow these guns for research purposes?" she asked softly.
Jessica hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking to the paralyzing gun she still held in her other hand. Slowly, she extended it toward Dr. Hale. "We only have this one left—the paralyzing gun. But if it helps… yes, you can use it. Just promise me… you'll remember what it was made for."
Dr. Hale accepted the weapon with careful hands, her voice gentle. "I promise," she said, her tone quiet and sincere. "We'll treat it with care. And we'll remember why it matters."
Colonel Cameron gave Jessica a small, approving nod. "You've done more than anyone could have asked of you," he said. "You brought back something… remarkable. If we can understand these weapons—learn from them—we might have a chance to save more lives."
Jessica managed a faint, tired smile. "That's all I want," she murmured.
Night fell again, and the base settled into a calm quiet. Jessica rested her head on the edge of Simon's bed, her breath slowing as sleep finally overtook her. Around her, the others settled too—each lost in their own thoughts, but bound together by a promise.
"You're not alone," she whispered, her voice soft and sure. "We're all here. And when you're ready… we'll be here to stand with you."
And in that fragile, flickering quiet, hope burned bright—a small light in the darkness, but enough to keep them going.