PREVIEW

... les, same nervous hum of filtered generators parked too close to the tree line. But the people? They looked different now. Tired. Less confident. More real.

Don stepped out first, blood still caked along the edge of his gaiter. His boots hit the dirt with a muted thmp, his pace steady but strained.

Charles followed close behind, silent, his posture unnaturally straight—likely compensating for the stiffness in his ribs. And on his right hand, still impaled on those twin retractabl ...

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