The air was thick with ash and electricity, the sky an unbroken expanse of green-lit chaos. Lightning arced across the heavens, jagged veins of light ripping through the swirling clouds. Beneath the storm, the Earth itself seemed to convulse, writhing as the Harbinger’s terraforming reshaped it from the inside out.
Koa stood on a narrow ledge, overlooking what had once been a peaceful valley. Now, it was a roiling sea of molten rock and fractured earth. Rivers of lava cut through the landscape, their fiery glow reflected in the dark, churning waters of a newly formed lake. The ground shuddered beneath his feet, and the faint sound of distant thunder rolled across the horizon.
“This is… worse than I imagined,” Sarah said, stepping up beside him. Her voice was steady, but there was no mistaking the tension in her posture. She held her rifle loosely at her side, though the way her fingers flexed against the grip betrayed her unease.
“It’s more than that,” Ryl said, crouched nearby with his tail flicking in agitation. His sharp eyes scanned the horizon, catching every movement, every unnatural shift in the landscape. “This isn’t just destruction. It’s creation. Look at it.”
Koa followed his gaze. On the far side of the valley, spires of crystalline growth jutted from the ground, their jagged edges glinting in the eerie light. The formations spread like a creeping infection, consuming everything in their path—trees, boulders, even entire hillsides. The crystals pulsed faintly, as if alive, their glow synchronized with the distant hum of the Harbinger’s energy.
“It’s rewriting the planet,” Sarah said quietly, echoing her earlier observations. “And it’s not stopping.”
A sudden tremor shook the ledge, nearly knocking them off their feet. Koa caught himself against a jagged outcrop, his blade clattering against the rock. Below, a massive fissure split the earth, sending plumes of steam and ash billowing into the air.
“We need to keep moving,” Koa said, his voice cutting through the rising tension. “This place won’t hold much longer.”
As if to punctuate his words, the ground buckled violently, sending a shower of debris tumbling into the molten depths below. Koa motioned for Sarah and Ryl to follow, leading them along the precarious ridge toward a narrow path that snaked up the side of the canyon.
The climb was treacherous, the rocks slick with condensation and the air heavy with heat. Each step was a battle against the shifting terrain, but they pressed on, driven by the urgency of their mission. The Broker’s coordinates lay on the other side of the valley, and every second spent navigating this hellscape brought them closer to their goal—and further from safety.
As they reached the top of the ridge, the full extent of the destruction came into view. The landscape stretched out before them like a battlefield between two worlds—one ancient and familiar, the other alien and unrecognizable. Forests had been replaced by vast plains of glowing crystals, their jagged forms cutting into the sky like blades. Rivers ran black with oil-like sludge, their banks lined with pulsating, bioluminescent growths. And above it all, the Harbinger’s light burned like a second sun, casting its cold glow over the ruined Earth.
“This isn’t just about survival anymore,” Sarah said, her voice tinged with awe and dread. “If this keeps spreading, there won’t be an Earth left to save.”
“We won’t let it get that far,” Koa said, his tone resolute. He glanced back at Ryl, who had taken up a position on a nearby outcrop, scanning the horizon for threats. “Anything?”
Ryl shook his head. “No sign of the Broker’s goons, but that doesn’t mean they’re not out there. This place is a death trap.”
“Then we keep moving,” Koa said. He turned to Sarah. “How far to the coordinates?”
Sarah pulled up the map on her tablet, squinting at the flickering display. “Ten kilometers, give or take. If we push hard, we can make it by nightfall.”
Koa nodded, adjusting the strap of his pack. “Let’s go.”
They descended the ridge, picking their way carefully through the unstable terrain. Every step felt precarious, the ground shifting beneath their feet as if alive. The faint hum of the Harbinger’s energy was a constant presence, growing louder with each passing moment.
As they reached the valley floor, a low rumble echoed through the air. Koa stopped in his tracks, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his blade.
“What now?” Ryl muttered, his ears flattening against his skull.
The rumble grew louder, the ground trembling beneath their feet. Then, with a deafening roar, a massive wave of water surged into view, crashing through the canyon like a living thing. It was a flood, but not like any flood they had seen before. The water glowed faintly, its surface shimmering with an unnatural iridescence.
“Run!” Koa shouted, his voice cutting through the roar of the approaching wave.
They sprinted toward higher ground, their movements frantic as the flood surged closer. The water struck the valley floor with terrifying force, consuming everything in its path. Trees were uprooted, boulders swept away, and the ground itself seemed to dissolve under the torrent’s relentless advance.
Koa reached the base of a cliff and scrambled upward, his hands gripping the jagged rock as he hauled himself to safety. Sarah followed close behind, her breath ragged as she climbed. Ryl leapt effortlessly from ledge to ledge, his powerful legs propelling him out of the water’s reach.
The flood roared past below them, a churning mass of liquid light that seemed almost alive. It carried with it fragments of the old world—shattered trees, broken rocks, and the twisted remains of what had once been a road. As the wave receded, it left behind a landscape utterly transformed, its surface covered in jagged crystalline growths that pulsed faintly in the dim light.
Koa sat on the ledge, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. “We’re running out of time,” he said, his voice grim.
Sarah nodded, her gaze fixed on the transformed valley below. “If this is what the Harbinger can do now…” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
Koa pushed himself to his feet, his expression hardening. “Then we end it. Whatever it takes.”
The cave was a sanctuary of silence, its walls glistening with condensation that shimmered faintly in the light of Sarah’s portable lamp. The harsh reality outside—the collapsing terrain, the twisted skies—felt impossibly distant within the cold, damp stillness. Ryl crouched by the entrance, his sharp eyes scanning the landscape for movement, while Sarah knelt beside a makeshift workbench cobbled together from scavenged crates.
The alien device—no larger than a briefcase—sat open before her, its intricate network of circuits and crystalline components glowing faintly. Wires snaked out from the device, connecting it to her tablet, which displayed an array of incomprehensible symbols and energy readouts.
“I don’t like this,” Ryl muttered, his tail flicking nervously as he glanced back at her. “Messing with alien tech didn’t end so well for the last group that tried it.”
“They didn’t know what they were doing,” Sarah replied without looking up, her tone clipped. Her fingers moved with precise intent, tracing the connections within the device as she studied its structure. “This thing is a node—a relay point for the Harbinger’s energy grid. If I can figure out how it works, I might be able to disrupt the signal.”
Ryl raised an eyebrow. “You’re awfully sure of yourself for someone who just admitted this tech is way beyond human comprehension.”
“It is,” Sarah admitted, sitting back on her heels. “But that doesn’t mean it’s infallible. Every system has a flaw, a vulnerability. We just have to find it.”
Ryl tilted his head, his ears twitching. “And by ‘we,’ you mean you, right? Because all this glowing, humming weirdness is a little outside my skill set.”
Sarah smirked faintly, her fingers resuming their work. “Just keep an eye on the perimeter. I need time.”
Ryl muttered something under his breath but didn’t argue. He turned his attention back to the cave’s entrance, his sharp gaze scanning the horizon. Outside, the faint hum of the Harbinger’s energy was a constant presence, a low vibration that seemed to emanate from the very air itself.
Minutes stretched into an hour as Sarah worked, the tension in the cave growing with each passing moment. She probed the device’s systems carefully, her movements deliberate as she avoided triggering the defensive mechanisms she’d encountered in previous encounters with similar technology. The last thing they needed was for the node to detonate—or worse, to signal the Harbinger directly.
Finally, a faint beep from her tablet broke the silence. Sarah straightened, her eyes narrowing as the screen displayed a series of energy signatures.
“What is it?” Ryl asked, glancing back.
“I think I’ve found something,” Sarah said, her voice tinged with cautious excitement. She pointed to the screen, which displayed a complex waveform overlaying a pulsing energy grid. “See this? It’s a feedback loop. The Harbinger’s signal isn’t just transmitting—it’s receiving.”
Ryl frowned. “So it’s like… two-way radio?”
“Sort of,” Sarah said. “The device is part of a network. It’s constantly communicating with the other nodes and the Harbinger itself. That’s how it coordinates the terraforming process. But here’s the thing: the signal isn’t stable.”
Ryl moved closer, peering over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”
“Look at the waveform,” Sarah said, gesturing to the jagged peaks and valleys on the screen. “This isn’t clean data. There’s interference—probably from the environmental changes the Harbinger is causing. The signal’s bouncing off its own distortions.”
Ryl scratched his head, his brow furrowing. “Okay, so it’s got static. How does that help us?”
Sarah’s fingers flew over the tablet’s interface as she brought up another display. “If we can amplify the interference, we might be able to disrupt the entire network. It won’t stop the Harbinger completely, but it could buy us time—maybe even shut down parts of its terraforming process.”
“Big if,” Ryl said, his skepticism evident. “And how do we do that without blowing ourselves up?”
Sarah glanced at the alien device, her expression hardening. “We use this. If I can rewire the node to amplify the feedback, it’ll send a pulse through the network. But there’s a catch.”
“Of course there is,” Ryl said, crossing his arms. “Let’s hear it.”
Sarah hesitated, her gaze flicking to the tablet. “The pulse will fry the node—and anyone too close to it. We’d have to set it off remotely.”
Ryl tilted his head. “And let me guess: remote detonators aren’t exactly part of the standard survival kit.”
“No,” Sarah admitted. “But we can improvise.”
Ryl studied her for a moment, then let out a sigh. “You know, every time I think we’ve hit rock bottom, you find a way to dig deeper.”
Sarah managed a faint smile. “I aim to impress.”
Before Ryl could respond, a faint rumble echoed through the cave, followed by the distant sound of shifting rock. His ears perked up, his body tensing.
“Company,” he said, grabbing his staff and moving to the entrance. “Sounds like they’re getting close.”
Sarah quickly powered down the device, disconnecting it from her tablet and securing the cables. “How much time do we have?”
Ryl peeked outside, his eyes narrowing. “Not enough.”
Sarah nodded, sliding the device into her pack. “Then we move. I’ll finish the modifications later.”
Ryl glanced at her, his expression serious. “You sure about this plan? Feels like we’re betting everything on a long shot.”
Sarah adjusted her pack, her gaze steady. “It’s not a long shot, Ryl. It’s our only shot.”
He sighed, shaking his head. “Fine. Just make sure we don’t end up as glowing roadkill, okay?”
With that, the two of them slipped out of the cave, the alien device their only hope for turning the tide against the Harbinger’s overwhelming power.
The first sign of trouble was the sound—a guttural, almost inhuman roar that echoed through the fractured valley. Koa froze mid-stride, his hand tightening instinctively on the hilt of his blade. Sarah and Ryl, a few paces behind, exchanged wary glances.
“That’s close,” Ryl muttered, his ears twitching. He crouched low, scanning the terrain ahead. “Too close.”
Koa gestured for silence, motioning for the group to take cover behind a cluster of jagged rocks. They crouched in the shadow of the outcrop, the eerie green light from the transformed landscape casting unsettling patterns across their faces.
The roar came again, louder this time, followed by the distinct sound of something heavy crashing through the underbrush. Koa peered over the edge of the rock, his sharp eyes narrowing as he scanned the valley floor. What he saw made his stomach tighten.
A group of hybrids—perhaps a dozen—were moving erratically through the ruined terrain. Their bodies, once streamlined and imposing, were now grotesque parodies of their former forms. Muscles bulged unnaturally beneath patches of fur and exposed bone, while jagged spines jutted out at odd angles. Their movements were jerky and uncoordinated, but there was a terrifying intensity in their wild, glowing eyes.
“They’re mutating,” Sarah whispered, her voice barely audible.
“They’re breaking down,” Koa corrected grimly. He had seen this before—hybrids pushed beyond their limits, their bodies and minds unraveling under the strain of the Catalyst’s influence. But this was worse than anything he’d witnessed. These weren’t just unstable. They were feral.
One of the hybrids let out a keening wail, its head snapping back as it thrashed violently. The others seemed to react to the sound, their erratic movements growing more frenzied. Then, as if driven by some shared, unspoken madness, they turned as one and charged toward a nearby cluster of survivors—humans and hybrids alike—who had been trying to cross the valley.
“Damn it,” Koa hissed, rising to his feet. “We’ve got to help them.”
Ryl grabbed his arm. “Are you insane? There’s a dozen of them, and they’re not exactly looking to talk things out.”
“We can’t just leave them,” Koa shot back, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Sarah was already moving, her rifle coming up as she took aim at the nearest hybrid. “Cover me,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.
Koa drew his blade, nodding to Ryl. “Let’s go.”
The three of them burst from cover, moving quickly toward the chaos unfolding below. The hybrids had reached the survivors, their feral strength overwhelming the makeshift defenses the group had thrown together. Cries of pain and terror filled the air as the hybrids tore through their ranks, their claws and teeth flashing in the dim light.
Sarah fired a quick burst, the sharp crack of her rifle cutting through the cacophony. One of the hybrids staggered, a spray of dark blood erupting from its shoulder, but the wound only seemed to enrage it. It turned toward her, letting out a guttural snarl as it charged.
“Not today,” Ryl muttered, springing forward. His staff whirled through the air, striking the hybrid square in the chest with a bone-jarring thud. The creature reeled, but Ryl didn’t let up, delivering a rapid series of blows that sent it crashing to the ground.
Koa engaged another hybrid, his blade flashing in the dim light as he parried a clumsy swipe from its elongated claws. The creature was fast, but its movements were uncoordinated, its body betraying its fractured state. Koa ducked under a wild swing and drove his blade into its side, twisting the weapon with a sharp jerk. The hybrid let out a strangled cry before collapsing in a heap.
Sarah kept her distance, firing with practiced precision to pick off the hybrids that strayed too close to the survivors. Her shots were deliberate, each one finding its mark despite the chaos around her.
But for every hybrid they took down, another seemed to take its place. The survivors, unarmed and desperate, were no match for the relentless onslaught. One by one, they fell, their screams cutting off abruptly as the hybrids tore into them.
“This isn’t working,” Sarah shouted over the din, her voice strained. “There are too many!”
Koa gritted his teeth, his blade slicing through another hybrid as he scanned the battlefield. The survivors were scattered, their numbers dwindling rapidly. If they didn’t find a way to turn the tide, there wouldn’t be anyone left to save.
“We need to draw them away,” he called out. “Get them to focus on us!”
Ryl shot him a disbelieving look. “You’re out of your damn mind.”
“Just do it!” Koa barked, his voice carrying an edge of desperation.
Ryl let out a curse but didn’t argue. He swung his staff in a wide arc, smashing it against the ground with a sharp crack that echoed through the valley. “Hey, you ugly bastards!” he shouted. “Over here!”
The hybrids reacted immediately, their glowing eyes snapping toward him. With a collective snarl, they abandoned their prey and charged, their movements wild and frenzied.
“Now would be a good time to run,” Ryl muttered, already backpedaling.
Koa and Sarah moved to flank him, their weapons ready as the hybrids closed in. It was a desperate gambit, but it bought the remaining survivors precious seconds to flee. Whether they would make it out of the valley alive was another question entirely.
As the hybrids bore down on them, Koa tightened his grip on his blade, his heart pounding in his chest. They were outnumbered, outmatched, and fighting on borrowed time. But if this was what it took to keep the Harbinger’s madness from consuming everything, he would stand his ground.
The valley was eerily quiet after the chaos of the hybrid attack, the stillness broken only by the distant hum of the Harbinger’s energy pulsing through the transformed landscape. The ground was littered with the bodies of fallen hybrids, their grotesque forms sprawled across the uneven terrain. Among them were the remains of the unlucky survivors who hadn’t escaped the onslaught.
Koa wiped his blade on the torn fabric of his jacket, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. His hands were slick with blood—some of it his own, though the wounds were superficial. Beside him, Sarah knelt by a young girl, one of the refugees who had been caught in the crossfire. The girl was shaking, her eyes wide with terror, but she clung tightly to Sarah’s arm as if it were the only solid thing in the world.
“It’s okay,” Sarah said softly, her voice steady despite the tension in her posture. “You’re safe now.”
The girl nodded shakily, her tear-streaked face pale under the eerie green glow of the sky. She couldn’t have been more than ten years old, her thin frame wrapped in a tattered coat that barely seemed to offer protection from the biting wind.
“Is she hurt?” Koa asked, his voice low as he approached.
Sarah shook her head. “She’s in shock, but she’ll be okay. Most of the others didn’t make it.”
Koa’s jaw tightened, his gaze sweeping over the scattered group of survivors who had managed to escape. There were only a handful—five, maybe six—all of them battered and bloodied, their expressions a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief. They huddled together near the remnants of a rock formation, their eyes darting nervously to the surrounding shadows.
Ryl appeared from the edge of the valley, his staff resting on his shoulder as he approached. “That’s the last of them,” he said, nodding toward a man and a teenage boy he had just helped across a narrow ravine. “No more signs of hybrids, at least for now.”
Koa nodded, turning his attention to the group. “We need to move,” he said, his voice carrying the calm authority of someone used to being obeyed. “This place isn’t safe.”
One of the survivors, a wiry man with sunken eyes and a gash across his cheek, stepped forward. “Move where?” he asked, his tone laced with desperation. “There’s nowhere left to go.”
“We’ll find somewhere,” Koa replied firmly. “But staying here isn’t an option. The hybrids might be gone, but the Harbinger’s terraforming is still active. This valley won’t hold.”
The man hesitated, his gaze shifting to the others. “Why should we trust you? You’re one of them.” He gestured toward Ryl, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“I’m not asking for your trust,” Koa said, his tone sharp but not unkind. “I’m asking for your cooperation. If you want to survive, you’ll follow us.”
Another survivor, an older woman with streaks of gray in her tangled hair, stepped forward. “He’s right,” she said, her voice weary but resolute. “We don’t have a choice. Better to take our chances with them than wait here to die.”
The wiry man seemed ready to argue, but a glance at the girl clinging to Sarah silenced him. He gave a reluctant nod. “Fine. But if this is a trap…”
“It’s not,” Koa said, cutting him off. He turned to Sarah. “Get them ready. We leave in ten.”
Sarah nodded, gently helping the girl to her feet. “Come on,” she said softly. “We’ll get you somewhere safe.”
The survivors began gathering what few belongings they had, their movements slow and deliberate as they tried to shake off the weight of their ordeal. Ryl leaned against a nearby boulder, watching the scene with an inscrutable expression.
“You sure about this, boss?” he asked, his voice low. “Dragging a bunch of scared humans through this mess isn’t exactly a winning strategy.”
“We’re not leaving them behind,” Koa said without hesitation. “If the Broker’s message did one thing right, it reminded people what’s at stake. We don’t get through this by looking out for ourselves. We get through it together.”
Ryl let out a sigh, shaking his head. “You’re gonna get us killed one day, you know that?”
Koa allowed himself a faint smile. “Not today.”
The group set out a short time later, moving cautiously through the broken landscape. Koa took point, his blade drawn and his senses on high alert. Sarah stayed near the middle, keeping close to the girl and the other survivors, while Ryl brought up the rear, his sharp eyes scanning for threats.
The journey was slow and arduous, the terrain shifting beneath their feet as the Harbinger’s influence continued to reshape the land. Crystalline growths jutted from the ground like jagged teeth, their surfaces slick with condensation that glowed faintly in the dim light. Every step was a reminder of how far their world had fallen—and how much further it could go.
As they reached the edge of the valley, Koa called for a halt, motioning for the group to take cover behind a cluster of rocks. He scanned the horizon, his keen eyes picking out movement in the distance.
“What is it?” Sarah asked, moving to his side.
“More refugees,” Koa said, nodding toward a small group making their way through the ruins of a nearby settlement. They looked as battered as the survivors they had just saved, their movements slow and unsteady.
Sarah exhaled, her gaze softening. “We can’t leave them.”
“We won’t,” Koa said. He turned to Ryl. “Stay here and keep watch. Sarah and I will bring them in.”
Ryl shrugged, twirling his staff idly. “Sure. What’s another few strays in this circus?”
Koa smirked faintly, then motioned for Sarah to follow. Together, they descended into the settlement, their footsteps quiet against the shifting ground. The group of refugees turned at their approach, their expressions a mixture of fear and relief.
“We’re here to help,” Koa said, his voice calm but firm. “You’re not alone anymore.”
The settlement was a bleak collection of makeshift shelters and scavenged supplies, tucked into the ruins of what had once been a thriving mining town. The arrival of Koa’s group, accompanied by the refugees they had saved, had strained its already limited resources to the breaking point. Supplies were running low, tempers were fraying, and tensions were palpable.
Ethan’s militia patrolled the perimeter with a rigid efficiency that bordered on hostility. Armed with an assortment of scavenged weapons and makeshift armor, they moved through the camp like predators, their eyes darting toward anything that might be considered a threat—including the refugees.
“They’re not even trying to hide it,” Ryl muttered, watching as one of the militia members roughly shoved a hybrid who had strayed too close to a supply cache. The hybrid, a wiry kangaroo with a jagged scar running down one side of its face, bared its teeth in a warning snarl but didn’t retaliate.
Koa stood nearby, his arms crossed as he observed the interaction. His expression was grim, his jaw tight. “They’re scared,” he said quietly. “And fear makes people do stupid things.”
“Stupid’s one thing,” Ryl replied, his tail flicking in agitation. “This is something else. These guys aren’t just scared—they’re looking for a fight.”
Sarah joined them, her gaze following Koa’s. “Ethan’s losing control,” she said. “Or maybe he’s not trying to hold on to it.”
Before Koa could respond, a commotion erupted near the center of the camp. A group of militia members had cornered a young hybrid—barely more than a teenager—who had been caught rummaging through a pile of discarded supplies. The hybrid’s fur was patchy and matted, and its thin frame trembled as it backed against a crumbling wall.
“Get your filthy claws off our stuff!” one of the militia members barked, raising a rifle.
“I wasn’t stealing!” the hybrid protested, its voice high-pitched and desperate. “I was just looking for food!”
“Liar,” another militia member snarled, leveling their weapon. “You things are all the same—thieves and killers, every last one of you.”
“That’s enough!” Koa’s voice rang out, cutting through the rising tension like a blade. He strode toward the group, his presence commanding as he placed himself between the hybrid and the armed militia. “Stand down.”
The lead militia member, a wiry man with a shaved head and a permanent scowl, sneered at him. “Stay out of this, Koa. This thing was caught stealing from us.”
Koa’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a child. And this isn’t how we handle things.”
The man took a step closer, his grip tightening on his weapon. “You don’t get it, do you? These hybrids aren’t your friends—they’re animals. Dangerous animals. If we don’t keep them in line, they’ll tear this camp apart.”
Koa’s hand rested lightly on the hilt of his blade. “I said, stand down.”
The tension crackled like static between them, the air heavy with the threat of violence. For a moment, it seemed like the militia would push back, but then Ethan’s voice cut through the crowd.
“Enough.”
Ethan stepped into the circle, his tall frame radiating authority. The militia members immediately backed off, though their expressions were far from apologetic. Ethan looked at the hybrid, who was still trembling against the wall, then turned to Koa.
“We can’t afford to let this happen,” he said, his tone measured but cold. “Resources are limited. Everyone needs to follow the rules.”
Koa’s eyes hardened. “And threatening a child with a gun is your idea of enforcing the rules?”
Ethan’s jaw tightened. “It’s not ideal, but these are desperate times. Discipline is the only thing keeping this camp together.”
“Discipline isn’t the same as cruelty,” Sarah interjected, stepping forward. Her tone was sharp, her gaze fixed on Ethan. “If you treat people like animals, don’t be surprised when they start acting like it.”
Ethan turned to her, his expression icy. “And what would you suggest, Sarah? That we hold hands and sing songs until the Harbinger wipes us all out?”
“Enough!” Koa’s voice silenced them both. He turned to the hybrid, who was staring at the ground, its body tense with fear. “What’s your name?”
The hybrid hesitated, then mumbled, “Torr.”
“Torr,” Koa said gently, kneeling to meet the hybrid’s eyes. “Are you hurt?”
Torr shook his head quickly, his ears twitching nervously.
“Good,” Koa said. He rose to his feet and addressed the crowd. “This isn’t how we survive. Humans, hybrids, kangaroos—we’re all in this together, whether you like it or not. If we can’t work together, we’re already dead.”
Ethan crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “It’s easy to talk about unity when you’re not the one keeping the peace.”
“And it’s easy to hide behind rules when you’re too afraid to do what’s right,” Koa shot back, his voice low but steady.
The two men stared each other down, the tension thick enough to cut. Finally, Ethan turned away, motioning for his militia to disperse. “Do what you want, Koa. But when this camp falls apart, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
As the crowd began to break up, Koa exhaled slowly, the weight of the confrontation settling on his shoulders. Sarah placed a hand on his arm, her expression soft.
“You did the right thing,” she said.
“Maybe,” Koa replied. He glanced at Torr, who was being led to a quieter corner of the camp by one of the other survivors. “But right doesn’t always mean easy.”
Ryl appeared at his side, his tone lighter but still serious. “Well, that was fun. Think we’ll get invited to Ethan’s next team-building seminar?”
Koa allowed himself a faint smile, though it didn’t last. “Ethan’s not wrong. This camp is on the edge, and it won’t take much to push it over.”
Sarah nodded, her expression grim. “Then we’d better find a way to push back.”
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