Keller found Dorian and Kesi near the north fence, where the street still glimmered with shattered obsidian and heat-scorched concrete.

  The dead were laid out nearby.

  It wasn’t anything formal or ceremonious. Just placed, wherever there had been space. Along the curb. Against the remains of a bus stop. Between two wrecked cars that still smelled faintly of melted plastic.

  Some were wrapped in ponchos. Some in tarps. One in a child’s blanket, patterned with faded cartoon animals. Helmets rested on chests or beside heads. A few soldiers knelt with them, hands busy with straps or tags, doing small, unnecessary adjustments because standing still felt wrong.

  There was no room in the air for anyone to speak in anything higher than a whisper.

  One young soldier sat with his back against a tire, helmet in his lap. He stared at it like he didn’t recognize the thing. Tears ran down his face in steady rivers, expression unmoving, mouth slack. He didn’t wipe them away. They just fell, darkening the ash at his boots.

  Another stood a few feet away, jaw clenched so tight the muscles jumped and spasmed. His eyes were red, but dry. He hadn’t blinked in a long time.

  there just wasn’t enough time.

  Flatbeds waited at the far end of the street. Bodies were lifted two at a time, sometimes four. Careful hands. Gentle movements that contrasted sharply with the violence that had ended them. Chalk marks on the pavement tracked the number of casualties. Their names would be sorted later, if later still existed in this damned world.

  Keller watched it all with a face like carved stone.

  When he finally spoke, his voice was firm, almost harsh.

  “There’s no time to mourn.”

  The words landed heavy, blunt as a command.

  A few heads lifted. No one argued.

  “We honor them by keeping the rest alive,” Keller continued. “That’s it. That’s all we get right now.”

  He swallowed once, quick, like he hoped no one would notice.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  He finally turned toward Dorian and Kesi.

  “We got long-range comms back,” he said, moving on because standing still might’ve broken him. “About ten minutes before that Juggernaut landed.”

  Dorian and Kesi listened.

  “There’s an outpost northeast. Couple dozen miles.” Keller gestured vaguely through the smoke. “Real fortifications. Automated cannons. Spider walkers with stabilized platforms. Drone coverage. Proper med bays.”

  He glanced back toward the bodies, like a mistake he turned away again, jaw tightening.

  “that’s why they’re still standing after a week of this. They just have the firepower to persist.”

  “For now…” Dorian said.

  “So our little outpost was never meant to last.” Kesi said.

  “No,” Keller said. “It was meant to buy time and save as many as we could.”

  “How’s ammunition?” Kesi asked.

  “Low,” Keller replied. “Rail slugs are nearly gone. Another wave like today and we’re choosing who gets covered.”

  He tapped the radio on his shoulder, more to ground himself than anything else. “Their CO hadn’t heard about Remnants.”

  Dorian frowned. “None? At all?”

  “Never seen once,” Keller said. “They kill everything at range. Starspawn dying in that fashion has been proven not to drop anything other than their obsidian weapons and metallic parts. They thought my description of the crystals was bullshit.”

  He paused, then added. “When I told them what two civilians were capable of, they stopped laughing.”

  “I told them. Melee when it was safe. Look for orange crystals. Control who gets Illuminated because of the side effects. Salvage Starspawn remains when possible. They’ve been broadcasting my message to every surviving base they can reach.”

  Kesi’s eyes flickered yellow. “That’ll change survival odds if a Kindled shows up. Their fancy robots might as well be toys against one, but if they can get Illuminated on the field fast, they might survive until we get there.”

  “That’s the point,” Keller said.

  He straightened, shoulders squaring like armor snapping into place.

  “We break camp in two hours. Civilians will be our center mass. Rail teams on the rim. Illuminated screening ahead and on the flanks.”

  “And when are we leaving?” Dorian asked.

  “Dusk,” Keller replied. “From what we’ve seen, Starspawn slow down at night, like their ability to sense us dulls. So we take service roads. Runners mark choke points and we bulldoze our way home.”

  “I need you two free. If something big plants itself in our path, I want it down before the convoy stops.”

  Kesi rolled his shoulder and winced before masking his pain with a brave face. “We’ll clear it.”

  “One more thing,” Keller said quieter. “When we link up, they’ll want Remnants. I’ll manage distribution. You keep us moving.”

  Dorian glanced back toward the camp.

  A woman pressed her forehead briefly against a tarp covered form, then stood and went back to packing because someone called her name. A soldier adjusted a strap that didn’t need adjusting, the young man with the helmet still hadn’t moved, morale was low.

  “We’ll meet you at the point,” Dorian said.

  “Fifteen minutes,” Keller replied, already turning away. His voice rose as he moved down the lane, command snapping back into place.

  “All squads, begin breakdown. Water, medical, fuel first. Shelter last. Civilians hold lanes until called. Rail teams rotate. Tight columns. Move!”