The door to Room 304 hissed shut behind us, cutting off the view of the empty briefing table.

  The corridor was crowded now, filled with the noise of boots on metal and the low hum of nervous chatter as other teams spilled out of their meetings. But the four of us stood in a tight circle, the tension from the room following us out like a bad smell.

  "Well," Becca muttered, hitching her pack higher on her shoulder. "That was warm and fuzzy."

  Alicia spun on me, her eyes wide and frantic. She grabbed my arm, her grip hard enough to bruise. "What were you thinking back there?"

  "I was thinking we deserve to know what we're dying for," I said, pulling my arm free.

  "You challenged a Commander," Alicia hissed, keeping her voice low so the passing soldiers wouldn't hear. "Do you have a death wish, Cass? Williams could have had you thrown in the brig for insubordination. Or worse."

  "Oh, give it a rest, Alicia," Becca said smoothly, stepping between us. "Cass didn’t cross any lines. She asked a question. Besides, if we aren't allowed to know the mission parameters, what is the point of the briefing?"

  "The point is to receive orders," Alicia snapped. "Not to interrogate superior officers about classified tech."

  "Classified tech?" I scoffed, starting the long walk back to our quarters. "He said it was a battery, Alicia. If it's just a battery, why was he looking at us like we were already dead?"

  Alicia opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. She looked away. "We were given the intel we needed. That's it."

  "You don't believe that," Becca said, falling into step beside her. "Specialized systems? High-yield energy? That doesn't sound like a generator. That sounds like a bomb."

  "Or a weapon," Katherine whispered.

  We all looked at her. Katherine was pale, her hands gripping the straps of her bag until her knuckles were white.

  "If the survival rate is twenty percent," Katherine murmured, staring at the floor, "then whatever the Aether is... it's worth more than we are."

  The silence that followed was heavier than the gravity on the ship.

  We reached our quarters and stepped inside. The room felt smaller now, knowing we were leaving it. We moved to our bunks and began packing in silence—shoving uniforms, rations, and small personal items into our rucksacks.

  "Kathy?" I asked softly, watching her stare blankly at her open locker.

  "Yeah?" She didn't turn around.

  "How are you holding up? You know... with the team assignment."

  Katherine had been fraying at the edges since the final simulation. Her movements were jerky, her breathing too shallow.

  "I'm fine," she said, her voice unusually flat.

  "Are you sure?" I pressed. "It's okay to be scared. The stats... twenty percent is rough. We're all scared."

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  "I said I'm fine," she snapped. She shoved a pair of boots into her bag with sudden, violent force. Then she sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I just... I don't want to be the weak link, Cass. I don't want to be the reason someone else gets hurt."

  "I bet Kathy will be the first one to trip and alert the aliens," Becca said from her bunk.

  "Shut it, Becca!" Alicia warned, looking up from her folding.

  "Relax, Al. It’s just a joke."

  "Your sense of humor is broken," Alicia sighed.

  "I'm serious," Becca said, sitting up. She looked at Katherine, her expression uncharacteristically serious. "If you hesitate, you die. Or I die. So stop worrying about being weak and just be fast."

  "I can take care of myself," Katherine muttered, zipping her bag. "I passed final training on my own."

  "Didn't that nearly get you killed?" Becca smirked.

  "I wasn't killed," Katherine retorted, a spark of annoyance finally breaking through her fear. "I was... tactically injured."

  "Mortally wounded," Becca corrected with a laugh. "But hey, you're still breathing. That's a start."

  "Stop it, both of you," Alicia said, though she looked relieved to hear them bickering instead of spiraling. "We need sleep. 0600 is going to come fast."

  "Goodnight, soldiers," the cheery, synthetic voice of the AI echoed overhead.

  Click.

  The lights cut out, plunging the room into absolute darkness.

  "Night," Alicia whispered.

  “Don’t let the monster’s bite," Becca murmured.

  Exhaustion pulled at me like gravity. I closed my eyes, listening to the hum of the ventilation system, and let the darkness take me.

  My memories of the world before the bunkers are hazy, stripped away by time and trauma. But they always return in my dreams.

  I was standing in a forest.

  But not the glitchy, digital forest of the simulation. This was real. The air smelled of wet earth and decaying leaves—a scent so rich it made my chest ache. The sky above was a piercing, impossible blue, dotted with lazy white clouds.

  I walked through the trees, the wind playing with my hair like a living thing. I reached the edge of a cliff. Below me, a river carved through the valley, sparkling like liquid diamond. Snow-capped mountains rose in the distance, majestic and silent.

  It was perfect. It was peace.

  I want to stay here, I thought. I don't want to go back to the grey.

  Then, a low rumble vibrated through the soles of my feet.

  The birds stopped singing.

  I looked up. The blue sky didn't fade into a grid this time. It cracked. A jagged fissure tore across the horizon, bleeding black smoke.

  The cliff beneath me gave way.

  I fell, screaming soundlessly, the wind rushing past my ears.

  I hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud.

  When I opened my eyes, the forest was gone.

  I was back in the city. My city. The one from ten years ago.

  Sirens wailed—a rising and falling scream that tore through the air. The sky was choked with ash. Buildings were burning, their skeletons black against the orange glow of the fires.

  Boom.

  A bomb struck a skyscraper a block away. The ground jumped. Glass rained down like deadly confetti.

  People were running. Screaming. Pushing.

  I was small again. A child. I was trying to run, but my legs felt like lead. I couldn't find my parents. I couldn't find anyone.

  Boom.

  Closer this time. The heat washed over me, blistering my skin. The smell of burning rubber and ozone filled my nose.

  "No," I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. "Not this again. I already survived this."

  I scrambled over a pile of rubble, my hands scraping against concrete and rebar. A shadow passed overhead—a massive, sleek bomber jet, its engines roaring like a dragon.

  Another explosion ripped through the building right in front of me. The structure groaned, tilting forward. A wall of dust and debris rushed toward me like a tidal wave.

  I curled into a ball, covering my head, waiting to be crushed. Waiting to die.

  Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

  The debris hit.

  I jerked awake, gasping for air.

  I sat bolt upright in my bunk, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. My sheets were tangled around my legs, drenched in cold sweat.

  The room was dark. Silent.

  I looked around wildly, expecting to see fire, to smell smoke. But there was only the faint blue light of the corridor seeping under the door and the rhythmic breathing of my roommates.

  I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to banish the image of the burning city.

  It had been ten years, but the war never really left me. And now, I was heading into another one.

  I lay back down, staring at the metal bunk above me. I knew I wouldn't sleep again tonight.