Grossaint was no longer the city it once was.

  Smoke columns towered up into the clouds. Abandoned vehicles piled up on each other—trashed.

  The streets smelled of burnt rubber.

  Distant thuds blended in with the wails of sirens as the ashes on the ground shook.

  An alien destroyer hovered in the distance like an overseer.

  The MEI van barrelled down the ruined streets, the Ghost-Line Six insignia painted across its side, bouncing over small craters in the road. A small lorry followed behind—an evacuation truck. BB hovered beside the van.

  The squad sat in silence.

  Nozomi focused on the roads. Rubble fell from a crumbling building—he gripped the steering wheel tighter. In the back sat Kaoru, staring silently at his p. Opposite him was Miko—the newest member of the squad—absently caressing the red bandana around her neck. Beside her sat Himiko, analysing a prototype rifle resting across her p.

  The rifle resembled an average assault rifle, with a sleek, white frame that was almost rectangur in design, featuring a handle and a foregrip mounted underneath. There was a transparent compartment in the centre. A containment field. Inside the field was a small, cracked golden shard, held in pce by metal stabiliser arms—currents flowed between them.

  She closed her eyes for a second—opened them.

  Himiko handed the rifle to Miko beside her. Miko looked back in confusion.

  “What? Himiko, why are you giving me this?” She asked.

  “I was never very good with guns,” she responded, “I think you’re better fit to use it.”

  The corners of Miko’s mouth raised subtly—noticeably.

  “Sure… How does it work?”

  Kaoru raised his head slightly and cut in.

  “The ARX-1 is the first prototype Aethesium rifle. In its body, there’s a cracked Aethesium shard. Cracked shards are dangerous because they release a lot of energy—sorta like uranium. It’s kept in a containment field—the gss chamber—so we can control its burst. Pull the trigger, and a pulse of concentrated Aethesium is shot through the barrel.”

  “Cool,” Miko said, clutching the rifle at her chest.

  Aiko scouted from the turret on the roof for any survivors. She scanned the surrounding area. In the distance, she saw a house in a cul-de-sac. She squinted. She thought she saw something in the windows—movement.

  “Up ahead,” Aiko pointed, “I think there are survivors in that house.”

  Nozomi eased his foot off the accelerator slightly—the van began to slow down. They stopped at the foot of the house.

  The house was a colonial home—standard in the Grossaint suburbs. The two-story house was painted white, with blue wooden shutters beside the windows. In the bck tiled roof, there was a hole punched through. Another hole on the corner of the second floor. Rubble fell from the edges.

  The squad stepped out of the van. The evacuation truck parked just outside the cul-de-sac, awaiting further instructions.

  A small head peeked through a second-floor window. Himiko looked at the window. The head ducked.

  “Hello?” Himiko yelled, “It’s ok, we’re part of MEI, we’re here to evacuate you.”

  The head peeked out once more—another followed.

  “They look like kids,” Aiko said.

  Himiko swallowed. “Where are your parents?”

  Silence.

  “We’re coming up. Stay right there.”

  Himiko turned to Aiko.

  “Come with me,” Himiko waved her hand, “You three stay out here.”

  Kaoru, Miko, and Nozomi nodded. Aiko stepped forward.

  Himiko gripped the front door handle tightly—the door creaked open.

  The house was a mess. The interior was a heap of rubble. As Himiko inhaled, dust and ash scraped her throat. She coughed violently.

  “Hello?” A voice called from upstairs. It sounded feminine.

  “We’re from MEI.” Himiko called back, “We’re here to evacuate you.”

  “Oh, thank goodness, I thought we were going to die here.”

  “You’ll be fine. Just stay right there, we’ll come get you.”

  The two crept through the main hall of the house, manoeuvring their feet around piles of debris.

  Wood snapped behind the walls. The ceiling knocked as rubble fell.

  Aiko shuddered. “It’s so creepy.”

  “Yeah…” Himiko muttered.

  Himiko pced one foot on the stairs. Creak. She paused. Continued.

  Aiko waited until she was a few steps up—she stared deeply at the bottom step. Swallowed. She pced each foot carefully on the steps, gripping the banister tightly.

  Himiko reached the top—looked back. Aiko was hunched over the banister, gripping with two hands. She was shaking like a leaf as she shuffled along each step.

  Himiko snorted. “We’ve fought giant rats, giant bats and a murderous tree goat, but a few creaky floorboards leave you trembling.”

  “Hey,” Aiko giggled, “these steps could give away any second.”

  “Girl, this house is not that old—”

  BANG!

  The ground shook—more artillery. Aiko wobbled on the step. Her foot slipped.

  Aiko flew her arm forward. Her stomach dropped.

  Himiko gripped her hand firmly—her other hand on the banister.

  “Ok,” Himiko said, “I see what you mean.”

  She pulled Aiko up.

  Himiko took a few steps along the corridor.

  “Are you ok, ma’am?” Himiko called.

  “Yeah, we’re fine.” The woman replied.

  Himiko opened the door from which the voice came.

  It was a bedroom. The ceiling was cracked. The bed was covered in drywall that had fallen from the walls and ceiling. In the corner, there was a rge desk. Huddled below it was a woman and two young children, who both looked under the age of ten.

  They looked up at Himiko with moist eyes. They were afraid.

  Himiko crouched down, the three’s eyes followed her down. She was now eye level with them.

  “Everything’s ok now, we’re gonna get you out,” Himiko’s voice came out as gentle as the smile on her face.

  The mother nodded and smiled. But her eyes still showed sadness.

  The woman paused for a moment, looked at the children on either side of her, then back at Himiko.

  “Have you… seen my husband, Max?”

  Himiko looked at the wall.

  “Not sure… we’ve collected a few survivors, they’re in a truck outside, hopefully he’s in there.”

  Himiko held her arm out in front of them. The woman nodded and grabbed it.

  They all made their way out of the house, navigating through the maze of rubble that seemed to grow rger as the ceiling crumbled.

  Aiko took the outside air in a deep breath, releasing it in a satisfied exhale.

  “Man, it was horrible in there.”

  Nozomi chuckled.

  There was a sound of cracking—Himiko’s brows tensed. She looked back.

  The house caved, the second floor leaned over the first. Rubble fell, knocking against the concrete pavement.

  The woman and one child stood beside Himiko. The younger one was still near the house.

  A rge chunk of the house buckled.

  “NOOO!” Himiko cried.

  Aiko’s head shot back.

  The chunk fell towards the child.

  All of a sudden, the child zipped away—the rubble hit the floor.

  Himiko looked around. The child was beside Aiko, who was now beside the house.

  “How did you…?” Himiko asked.

  “I don’t know… time just suddenly… slowed down,” Aiko said, “was it… the power I was given?”

  “You can… slow time?” Kaoru asked, “That’s so cool. Man, when am I gonna get mine?”

  “Yours is definitely gonna be me,” Aiko jested as she nudged his arm.

  Himiko turned to the family.

  “Come on, I’ll take you to the truck.”

  The shutter door opened, rows of faces turned to Himiko—defeated. Families huddled together. Men and women tucked their heads into their knees, covered in ash and soot.

  “Max…” the woman yelled, “Max, are you there?”

  No response. The survivors in the truck muttered to each other.

  “Oh, god…” she held her head in her hands.

  Himiko slowly pced her hand on the woman’s shoulder.

  “I’m sure he’s fine, we’ll look for him, I promise.”

  The woman raised her head.

  “The assembly hall.”

  “What?”

  “Towards the city, there’s an assembly hall that has been converted into a shelter, he’s… probably over there, his name is Max Sincire”

  “We’ll head there now. You get in the truck.”

  The woman nodded, grabbed her kids and climbed into the truck. The shutter closed.

  Himiko strode to the front—knocked on the door. The window slid down—the driver poked his head out.

  “Take these survivors to the evac point. We’ll go up ahead.”

  “You got it, Captain Suzuki, stay safe now.”

  Himiko nodded; the window closed. The engine roared to life before driving off—the driver saluted to Himiko as he left.

  Himiko closed her eyes, cleared her throat. She turned to the squad, who were chatting around the van. As Himiko stepped towards them, they turned their attention to her with smiles.

  “What’s the pn, boss?” Aiko asked.

  “There’s a shelter up ahead, we’ll pay them a visit.”

  “You got it,” Nozomi said before jumping into the driver’s seat. The others jumped back in the van.

  The Grossaint assembly hall was an old-fashioned building. An eighteenth-century building whose style has been preserved for centuries. It was the building in which Trosine’s independence was established after all.

  There were a few men standing outside the door. They turned to the agents as they left the van.

  “Oh, you’re MEI, come on in.”

  One of the men opened the door, revealing the hall.

  The hall was massive. Volunteers scurried across the floor, shoes squeaking against the varnished wooden flooring. They handed out supplies to survivors—rations, water, bnkets. In one corner of the hall, there were makeshift beds with injured men, women and children lying on them. Medics kneeled beside them, applying alcohol to wounds, tying splints to broken limbs, and wrapping them in bandages.

  Cries and moans mixed in with ughter.

  “Mrs Isamu, we’ve found a shelter in the Grossaint assembly hall. Send over some evac trucks.” Himiko spoke into her radio.

  “Of course, Himiko. We’ll leave right away.” Makoto responded.

  A woman stood at the back of the hall with a clipboard in hand. It was hard to see what was written down from where Himiko was standing. Beside her were two men who gave her their undivided attention. The woman pointed to another woman in the back corner who was injured. The man nodded and made his way to the injured woman.

  She passed her fingers through her shoulder-length brown hair, moving a piece of her fringe behind her ears to keep it out of her face. She tapped at the clipboard as she gave instructions.

  The man didn’t say a word—just nodded, took the clipboard and moved.

  The woman turned her head—looked again—before fully turning around as Ghost-Line Six approached.

  “You’re from MEI, right?” The woman called. Her voice was gentle—even—yet affirming.

  “Yes, I’m Himiko Suzuki.”

  The woman walked towards Himiko. Nearby volunteers stopped to look as she passed. She held her hand out, invitingly—Himiko met it with her own. Himiko noticed two rings on her left ring finger.

  “My name is Elena Voss. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Himiko.”

  Her grip was firm—professional. She focused her eyes on Himiko’s. Those grey eyes matched the silver underdye in her hair.

  “Nice to meet you too, Mrs Voss.”

  Himiko’s eyes fshed as she remembered her promise to the mother.

  “Erm, a quick question, have you got a man by the name of Max Sincire?”

  Voss’ brows lowered. She waved to a woman in the distance.

  “Linda, come here a second.”

  A young woman hurried over to them, clipboard in hand.

  “This is Linda, she registers every survivor and volunteer.”

  Voss pced her hand on Linda’s shoulder.

  “Was a survivor named Max Sincire registered?”

  She slid her pen down the columns and flipped the pages. She came across a name that caused her face to tense slightly.

  “He’s… among the injured over there.”

  She pointed to the corner of the room, full of injured survivors.

  Himiko looked back at the squad.

  “Wait here.”

  They nodded.

  Himiko, Voss, and Linda walked over to the injured. The cries and moans made Himiko’s heart drop to her stomach. Men, women, and children were crying tears of pain and sadness.

  Linda talked to one of the medics, asking which one Max was. The doctor pointed to one man.

  The man was lying on a bed, staring at the ceiling. With his left arm missing. The sleeve was ripped away. All that remained was a five-inch stump wrapped in bloody bandages.

  Himiko crouched over the man. “Max Sincire, yeah?”

  His head slowly turned to Himiko, eyes half shut. “Who are you?”

  “I’m Himiko Suzuki, a MEI agent. We found your wife and kids—”

  His eyes shot open—he sat up. “Are they ok?”

  Himiko gently pced her hands on Max’s shoulders and slowly lowered him down.

  “They’re ok,” she said in a gentle voice, “They’re on their way to the Grossaint evacuation point, just outside of the city.”

  “Thank god.”

  “You get some rest,” Himiko said, “We’ll get you evacuated.”

  He was staring back up at the ceiling—nodding slowly. Himiko squeezed his shoulder slightly, then stood up.

  “I’ve ordered some trucks over to evacuate the survivors.”

  “That’s great, Miss Suzuki, we appreciate the help.”

  The two walked to the entrance.

  Himiko said nothing for a moment, raised a brow.

  “How was this shelter created?”

  Voss smiled. “Well, I’m a civil servant in the crisis management department, so it’s my duty to the people of Grossaint. A few others in the department organised this pce as a refugee shelter, and others volunteered to help.”

  The two arrived at the entrance—the rest of the squad was already there. The evacuation trucks arrived. The lead truck door opened—Makoto stepped down onto the road.

  “You’re Elena Voss, right?” Makoto said, “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m the MEI head of Special Operations, Makoto Isamu.”

  “I hope it’s good things you’ve heard, Mrs Isamu.”

  “You’re a bit of a local legend to the survivors.”

  “You ftter me,” Voss grinned, “thank you for your help, I hope we can continue working together.”

  Voss held her hand out—Makoto met it.

  Whistling could be heard in the sky. Everyone froze. Himiko’s eyes shot open; she remembered the sound from Rengappon.

  “Everyone, get ready!” Himiko yelled.

  Himiko gripped the hilt of her katana. Miko grabbed the prototype rifle. Aiko grabbed her sniper. BB looked at them, “Danger?”

  Voss looked at them, one brow raised, stepped back.

  The whistling became louder.

  Then they hit.

  Four pods smmed down to the ground in front of the shelter. Chunks of the road spewed. Himiko covered her face as debris blew onto her face.

  The pod doors began to hiss.