Before Nero stirred from his dream, while the rust-stained hills still clung to morning shadows, Iron Veil rolled out from Ironwatch—metal and purpose cutting across the silence.
Low clouds dragged across the terrain, staining the dawn in hues of steel and ash. Cold wind coiled between the ridges as HAV-5 "Warden" led the convoy, its reinforced frame slicing through fog like a war-hardened beast.
Behind it growled DRV-11 "Howler," engines steady beneath thick armor, a rhythm like distant thunder.
Inside the lead transport, the mood was quiet but taut. Every soldier was locked in—focused. Whether they'd meet Angelo as a friend or a threat… they would be ready.
Major Rix Harrow adjusted his headset, voice crisp as he keyed into the long-range channel.
"This is Major Rix Harrow. Echo Needle, do you copy?"
A brief crackle answered him. Then—
"This is Specialist Rhea Tannis, from Echo Needle. We hear you, Major."
"We've just left the base," Harrow reported. "Iron Veil is moving toward your last recorded path. Current ETA: four days."
There was a pause—just long enough to feel the distance between them—before Rhea answered.
"Understood. We're en route to Nomad's last signal. Still about eighteen hours out."
Another voice cut in behind her, more relaxed—less practiced.
"This is Private Drex. Weather's clear so far, terrain manageable. No hostiles in sight."
Harrow's tone remained even.
"Copy that. Maintain pace and caution. Drex—you remember your orders, right?"
"Crystal clear, sir," Kato replied immediately. "We'll hold position once we reach the signal. No engagement unless absolutely necessary."
"Good," Harrow said. "Keep comms open every four hours. That's all for now."
"Scout team out," Rhea signed off.
The channel clicked silent.
[Echo Needle – En Route]
The hum of Strider's engine filled the space between the three scouts as the landscape scrolled by in flickers of red rock and dead branches.
Inside Strider, Rhea glanced over at Kato.
"Did you really have to cut into the call?"
Kato replied without a hint of regret, "It was Major Harrow. I had to."
Vinn facepalmed. "You really need to stop doing that."
"You're right," Kato nodded seriously. "I should stop cutting in—and just pick up the calls directly."
Vinn sighed. "You're hopeless."
Kato turned to the back, toward Vinn and said, "And yet, here I am. Alive and charming."
Rhea cut in, firm as ever. "You two, final check on the gear. Make sure everything's secure. We can't afford to be seen."
Kato climbed into the backseat beside Vinn. The two began double-checking their weapons, portable scanners, and recon kits.
"You really think we can handle Angelo if he attacks us?" Kato asked.
The question hung in the vehicle. The engine hummed. Tires crunched against gravel.
Vinn finally spoke, low. "I don't think we stand a chance."
Kato's voice dropped. "You said he took down most of the Watchers and Angels—alone."
"Kato," Rhea snapped. "Shut up. Check the gear. Stay focused. We're not here to engage. We observe. That's it. You confirmed that with Major Harrow, ten minutes ago."
No one answered. But they moved faster.
The scout team kept moving.
[Ironwatch – Medical Bay]
In the sterile quiet of Ironwatch's medbay, a nurse stepped into Dr. Elias Grant's room, tablet in hand. Overhead, the lights buzzed faintly, the same way they had for the last two days. Grant lay on the raised cot, bandages tight around his torso, eyes sunken but alert.
"Isn't Lieutenant Asha around?" he asked, his voice hoarse. "She's the one assigned to me."
Before the nurse could reply, the door slid open with a soft hiss.
General Kaelen Mordane entered, his uniform crisp, boots tapping a steady rhythm on the tiled floor.
"Lieutenant Asha is out on assignment," Mordane said without preamble. "I'll have another doctor take over."
Grant shifted, wincing as he tried to sit up. He didn't get far. "Good morning, General Mordane."
"No need to get up," Mordane replied. "You're still in no condition to move around."
Grant gave a tight nod, his eyes sharp despite the pain. "Any word on Colonel Pierce?" Grant asked.
Mordane exhaled. "We can't find his tracker. It may have been destroyed… or possibly—"
"I understand," Grant exhaled slowly.
Mordane watched him for a moment. "Not going to ask about the kid? Angelo?"
"What's the point?" Grant murmured. "You wouldn't tell me anyway. Am I wrong?"
Mordane gave a faint smile. "Focus on recovery for now."
He turned and exited, the door sealing behind him.
Grant stared at the ceiling for a moment, breathing shallow, measured.
"As if focusing will speed this up," he muttered. "I wish Marcelle was here…"
[Quarantine Block – Milo Renn]
In the reinforced lower levels of Ironwatch, the quarantine wing stood quiet. Dim lights ran across the ceiling, flickering now and then, as if undecided between functioning and failing.
Inside one of the isolation rooms, a nurse stepped in alongside a uniformed soldier. They moved with routine precision—scanning, confirming, recording.
Milo Renn sat on the bench, legs crossed, back straight. Watching them.
The nurse glanced at her scanner.
"Specialist Milo Renn. Your 72-hour quarantine is complete. Vitals are normal. Test results are clear. You're officially released."
Milo grinned and exhaled, stretching his arms. "Finally. Free from this cage."
The nurse didn't comment. Neither did the soldier. Milo was always like this.
But…
was it really Milo this time?
Milo rose and began collecting his things—jacket, gloves, a folded tactical vest. He moved like someone going through familiar motions… but too calm. Too focused.
He hummed something as he worked. A strange, off-beat tune. Not cheerful. Not sad. Just… wrong.
He slung the vest over his shoulder and walked out past them without another word.
The nurse turned slightly as the door closed behind him.
Inside the now-empty room, a quiet hum buzzed in the air. The overhead light flickered again.
And in the far corner, still lying exactly where it had been for the past three days—
Milo's drone.
He hadn't picked it up.
Hadn't even glanced at it.