Apocalyptic Rebirth: With a repairman system space, she rises again.-Chapter 441: List of the rescued.

As Nimo drove the truck to the medic bay in the town, Sunshine replayed the scenes from the battle in her mind. Her eyes were narrowed as she thought through everything that they could have done better. 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

"What do you think of our fight against the tentacle beast?" She asked Nimo.

Nimo looked at Sunshine. Her friend was staring ahead; it was impossible to tell what she was thinking. "We fought well." She replied cheerfully. "We beat the watchers at their game. If we keep this up, we will all make it alive to the fifth year."

Sunshine did not respond immediately.

"We did fight well," she said at last, her voice calm but edged with weight. "But we were all over the place. Every move we made was in response to the creature’s movements or adaptation. It dictated the battle, not us.

When the limbs started regrowing, we prepared to use the same methods to fight even though they had failed us already."

Nimo twisted her lips. "It had many tentacles, and it was big. The only way to fight back was for everyone to hit it at the same time. In my opinion, that was the best decision in that moment. Could we have coordinated better, yes. But that would not have changed the adaptation scenario. And we did not know if acid would work. I acted on impulse."

Sunshine sighed. Next time, they would add things like acid and other chemicals to their fighting strategies.

They pulled up to the medic bay, the engines barely cooled before the doors were thrown open and the reality of what they’d brought back settled heavy in the air. They would also have to test combinations during battles.

"Don’t think about it too much." Nimo told her. "We won and we brought the kids home."

Sunshine shook her head, staring at the medic bay which was just ahead. "As leader, its my duty to see beyond the obvious. I told everyone to fight relying on their superpowers. Now, it sounds a bit like arrogance. The tentacle beasts I fought in my last life could not regrow new limbs. My overconfidence nearly cost us."

Nimo wanted to give her friend the kick in the butt that O’Toole had given Phillip. Had Sunshine forgotten that the acid was also hers? Besides, whether she had given the instruction or not, everyone was going to fight relying on their superpowers or weapons.

The truck parked and they stepped out, entering another world of chaos. Crying children were being lifted off the trucks by medical personnel and wrapped in emergency blankets that looked far too big on their thin bodies.

Nurses moved fast and spoke in clipped, urgent tones.

Outside the doors was a crowd. Parents, relatives, neighbors, people who had rushed over the moment news spread that children had been rescued from kidnappers in the industrial area. Hope had traveled faster than the trucks ever could.

For now, the doctors had barred the parents from entering because medical checks were ongoing, the poor kids were malnourished, ribs visible under skin, some were coughing weakly, others had bandaged limbs or glazed eyes that didn’t quite focus. As if that wasn’t enough, other stretchers held people injured during the mutant beast attack.

Bloodied uniforms and torn civilian clothes mixed together until it was hard to tell where one tragedy ended and another began.

The moment the people set their eyes on Sunshine, they surged forward in a wave of desperation, hands reaching, voices overlapping.

"Is my grandchild among them?" An old woman asked, wiping her wet face. "Her name is Daisy Cotton. She always her hair in two ponytails that look like buns. She has a tear drop birthmark on her bum."

"Please, let me see my son," a woman sobbed, clutching Sunshine’s sleeve.

"Just one minute," a man begged, his voice breaking in a way that suggested it had been strong once. "I saw them saying his arm might be amputated."

Sunshine raised her hands, not in command but in pleading, her voice steady only because it had to be. "As a parent myself I understand your plight," she said softly, making eye contact where she could, "I really do, but the doctors need to finish checking them first before you can be allowed to see them. Some of them are very sick and in need of emergency treatment. Please allow the doctors to make sure your children are safe."

"We’ve waited months," a mother cried.

"What’s a few more minutes?" Sunshine asked gently, the words tasting bitter because she knew how cruel time could be, "when it could save their lives." She turned and entered the medic bay before she could be pulled apart by their grief.

The smell of antiseptic hitting her immediately, sharp and clean and completely able to erase the stench of panic.

Inside, a nurse walked from bed to bed, writing names carefully, her handwriting precise despite the chaos around her, pausing to confirm spellings with children who nodded or shook their heads weakly.

When she finished, she approached Sunshine at the nurse’s desk and handed her the list without ceremony, just a tired look that said she already knew what Sunshine needed to see. "These are their names and a few details." She said, a rueful smile tagged on her lips.

Sunshine unfolded it and compared it to the one she brought out of her space, the list of seventy names that had haunted her sleep. Her finger moved slowly, counting and matching details.

When she reached the end her chest tightened, only thirty, thirty out of seventy, but it was better than nothing, she told herself.

But there were many parents out there that would be going home with heavy hearts. She sighed and stepped outside to summon the lucky parents. The crowd fell into an uneasy silence when they noticed the piece of paper in her hand.

"Listen to me," she said, projecting her voice without shouting, "we did rescue children today, and they are receiving care right now. For those whose names I don’t read, this is not the end. We are not stopping. We will keep looking until we find them."

A woman let out a broken sound that wasn’t quite a cry, a father clasped his hands and bowed his head, lips moving in silent prayer. And then Sunshine began to read, each name landing like a stone dropped into water, ripples of hope spreading, some parents gasping, some collapsing into relieved sobs, some gripping each other so tightly it looked painful.

When she reached the last name and lowered the paper, the air shattered, those whose children were not called broke down completely, grief spilling out raw and unfiltered, and Sunshine stood there absorbing it because someone had to, her throat burning as she whispered, "I’m sorry," again and again until the words lost shape.

The soldiers around kept their faces professional, but most could not hide the pity in their eyes. They did their duty, escorting the sad parents back to their homes.

And Sunshine, she slipped her arm into Nimo’s, and they returned to the medic bay together.

For a fleeting second, her heart softened when she saw Jamie reunited with his father. He was on his knees, forgetting his own physical pain, pressing his forehead to his son’s and whispering his name over and over like a prayer he’d never dared to say aloud.

Jamie’s small arms clung tight to his father’s neck as if afraid the world might steal him again if he let go.

Sunshine looked away before her eyes betrayed her. "I should be overjoyed, but why am I filled with sorrow?" she whispered to herself.

Nimo thought back to the people outside whose children had not been found. In their cries lay the answer.

Would their stories have happy endings too?