Inside the wrecked military vehicle, silence hung like a sheet of burning metal. Black smoke poured from the shattered engine. The stench of fuel mixed with blood thickened the air.
Then—screech!—the rear doors groaned open.
Outside stood three men and a woman, faces tight, eyes sharp.
Daisy lifted her head, dazed and trembling.
— "Who are you…?"
Simon smirked, trying to slice through the tension with a hint of sarcasm.
— "We're… superheroes ... I think"
His sister Hana snapped her head toward him.
— "What?!"
Mosta growled from behind him, frustration in every breath.
— "I told you to stop with that crap, kid!"
A firm voice cut through them all. Commander Khaled.
— "Enough."
He stepped closer, locking eyes with Daisy.
— "We're like you… poisoned by the toxic radiation."
The words hit like a gunshot. The wounded inside froze. Daisy's breath caught in her throat. Like her? What did that mean?
Khaled's team sprang into motion, pulling survivors from the twisted wreck. In the distance, the whir of an aircraft engine grew louder—prepping for takeoff.
Mosta shouted near the plane:
— "Move it! Reinforcements are coming!"
Khaled pressed his communicator.
— "Almy, buy us some time."
Her voice crackled through, strained but steady:
— "Army's ten minutes out, coming from the south."
Daisy's pulse raced. Every second felt heavier. As she stumbled toward the aircraft, a flicker in the wreckage caught her eye. Someone was still alive.
She turned—there, half-buried under debris—the vehicle's assistant. Blood covered his body, his breathing ragged and shallow.
A sharp pain stabbed her chest. I can't just leave him.
She ran back.
Simon yelled after her:
— "Hey! Where the hell are you going?!"
No response. She knelt beside the dying man, hands trembling as she pressed them into his blood-soaked chest. She searched desperately for the wound, panic clawing at her.
Simon came up behind her, voice low now.
— "I don't think he's gonna make it…"
Mosta's shout tore through the chaos:
— "What are you doing?! Get back here!"
Khaled strode forward, every step sharp, controlled. He placed a hand on Daisy's shoulder.
— "I know it's hard… but we're out of time."
She looked up at him, eyes glistening.
— "Why can't we take him? We can't just let him die!"
His tone went cold, almost mechanical.
— "He'll die on the way."
Mosta's voice echoed from the aircraft:
— "Five minutes left!"
Khaled straightened, voice like a blade:
— "If you stay, you die with him."
He turned, motioning for Simon to pull back.
In the cockpit, Hana's headset buzzed with Almy's voice:
— "A large force is moving toward you. Hurry!"
Daisy froze. Her mind spiraled. Leave him? Let him die?
Her heartbeat thundered. Guilt burned like acid in her veins.
Then—something changed.
Her hands moved on their own, rising over the man's body. Her eyes ignited in a deep green glow.
Energy surged from her palms—bright, fierce—like lightning tearing through the dark. The air itself trembled around her.
The soldier convulsed. His wounds began to close. The bleeding stopped. His chest heaved again, stronger this time.
Mosta, from afar, stared wide-eyed:
— "What the…?!"
Simon grinned slightly.
— "Guess we've got ourselves a healer."
Even Khaled, stoic as stone, couldn't hide his awe.
— "Her power… it's different."
Daisy looked down at her shaking hands, fear mirrored in her own reflection. She didn't understand. Not yet.
But there was no time to think.
The aircraft's engines roared, lights from the army's convoy glowing closer, brighter—seconds away.
Then the night exploded.
The aircraft lifted off, engines screaming through the storm as the reinforcements arrived—too late. Sirens wailed over the empty crash site.
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