Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. The smell of industrial bleach coated the back of Caleb’s throat.

He lay flat on a stiff cot. His custom ballistic weave and the torn canvas Break-Tab harness were gone, replaced by a thin hospital gown.

He shifted his weight. His right arm moved flawlessly.

Reaching down, bare fingers brushed his lower ribs. Thick ridges formed a rough spiral pattern over his flesh. The massive hole in his left side was completely sealed.

His stomach was silent.

Caleb waited for the hunger to twist under his ribs.

Nothing came.

No bite. No heat. No desperate pull toward food.

His hand tightened around the blanket.

That was wrong.

A plastic chair creaked in the corner.

Soma sat slumped against the wall. The operator wore a white trench coat with a heavy fur collar. Silver-white hair fell over his eyes.

"Eight hours," Soma stated. "Your tissue regenerated overnight."

Caleb sat up. His joints popped. "It healed."

Soma stared at the purple spirals visible under the gown. "A Kaiju parasite burrowed into your chest. It altered your biological math."

Standing up, the heavy white coat shifted around the operator’s knees. He projected the detached stillness of a drawn weapon.

"It reminds me of the tale of dominance," Soma said. "A warning about what happens when the lines between the hunter and the meat fade away."

"What does it mean?" Caleb asked.

"If that thing starts making decisions before you do, I kill you before it finishes."

Soma walked out of the ward.

The door slid open again a heartbeat later.

Tali marched inside clutching a grease-stained datapad.

"The military medics locked my hardware out," Tali snapped. She pointed the pad at him. "They scrambled the encryption on my Power Isolation Shunt. They want the diagnostic data from my custom build."

Hiro followed her into the room. The teenager wore his oversized track jacket and carried a heavy paper bag smelling of roasted meat and spices.

"I brought food," Hiro said, holding the bag out. "You looked terrible yesterday."

Caleb stared at the bag. He felt zero appetite. The silence in his stomach made his skin crawl.

"I’m good, Hiro," Caleb said. "Keep it."

Hiro lowered the bag. His brow furrowed. Caleb never turned down calories. The kid took a step back, looking genuinely unsettled.

Tali ignored the food. She stepped right into Caleb’s personal space and stared at the purple spirals on his unbandaged chest.

"You were bleeding to death eight hours ago," Tali said. She blew a pink bubble until it popped loudly. "This is not recovery. It is remodeling."

Kikaru stood in the hallway. Her white armor had been repaired enough for public view, but her hands looked scrubbed raw. She avoided Caleb’s eyes, staring instead at the linoleum floor.

"I held the wrong body," Kikaru whispered. Her voice lacked all academy polish.

"You still came after the right one," Caleb replied.

The silence stretched out, heavy and real.

Heavy boots hit the hallway tile. Acting Captain Iris Calder entered the room holding a chipped ceramic mug. Her dark-gray sleeves were rolled high over the jagged scar tissue on her forearms.

"Put a clean uniform on, Mercer," Iris ordered. "The Guild is hosting a mandatory press conference and sponsor mixer. Let’s go."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Sector Nine Post-Raid Honors Ceremony occupied a colossal upper-sector event arena.

It operated as a seamless fusion of a sports award show, a military memorial, and a corporate trade convention. Towering Division banners hung from the vaulted ceiling. Hundreds of camera drones buzzed over the crowds, their lenses tracking the surviving soldiers seated by rank on the stadium floor. VIP investor balconies lined the upper tiers, glowing with neon sponsor holograms. Corporate representatives wearing tailored suits drank champagne beside black memorial panels listing the dead. 𝓯𝙧𝓮𝓮𝒘𝓮𝙗𝙣𝒐𝒗𝒆𝓵.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Caleb walked into the blinding lights with Hiro, Iharu, Kikaru, and the other promoted fighters. He wore a crisp, dark-gray dress uniform. The noise of the shouting reporters and buzzing drones battered his skull.

A giant digital leaderboard hovered above the main stage.

The event did not offer a quick summary. The Guild broke the slaughter down into marketable statistics, flashing detailed analytics across the massive screen.

Highest Viewer Spikes. Clean-Kill / Salvage Value Potential. Emergency Rescue Engagement.

Hiro’s name appeared under the rescue metrics for locking the retreat path with cryo-rounds. Iharu scored high in the combat brackets, his scowl deepening as he realized the aggregate ranking placed him below the Vanguard squads.

The screen shifted to a sprawling casualty recognition segment.

Jaxson’s name flashed in stark white text on the black memorial board.

The crowd went silent. The giant screen played an edited, high-definition clip from the upper caverns.

It showed First Division Vanguard Vane fighting the Scorpion-class Titan alongside Elara. The footage captured the exact second the beast’s underbelly plates snapped shut, crushing Vane and shearing him completely in half.

The algorithm blurred the arterial spray. A bright neon graphic overlaid the falling torso.

[HONOR THE FALLEN: SPONSOR THE FIRST DIVISION]

A digital progress bar appeared beneath Vane’s name.

[FIRST DIVISION RECOVERY FUND]

The number climbed so fast the digits blurred.

The clip froze on the last clean frame before impact. Vane still had his blade raised. Elara stood half a step behind him. The Scorpion’s shadow covered both of them.

The screen cut away before the worst of it.

For a few seconds, the arena stayed quiet.

Then the recovery fund crossed its first milestone, and Vane’s name remained on the board in white.

[FIELD REPLACEMENT ARMAMENTS FUNDED FOR SURVIVING FIRST DIVISION MEMBERS]

Elara stood beneath the screen with her hands closed at her sides.

The board shifted again.

[PUBLIC IMPACT HIGHLIGHT]

Kikaru’s clip took over the screen.

She knelt in the freezing mud of the lower ravine, white armor stained black, both hands pressed against the shape of a body that was already falling apart. Her mouth formed Caleb’s name as the false body crumbled between her fingers.

MITSURUGI KIKARU ABANDONS EXTRACTION LANE TO ATTEMPT FIELD RECOVERY

The clip shifted to another angle.

Kikaru tore off her helmet. She shouted for a medic. She pressed her bare hands into the mud and ash, trying to hold the body together.

Four million views sat beneath the frame.

A second banner appeared.

[RECOVERY RESPONSE ENGAGEMENT: HIGHEST OF RAID]

The first applause came from the lower seats.

It was uneven at first.

Then more hands joined.

Camera drones dropped toward Kikaru’s place in line.

She stayed still, back straight, chin level, hands folded in front of her. The skin around her knuckles looked raw.

Caleb looked at the screen, then at her.

Kikaru did not look back.