The altar bathed everything in a sickly glow. My heart pounded as I looked at my team's drawn, fearful faces and their slowed movements.
Nicole's voice cut through the madness, sharp and commanding.
"Mitch, Liam, south corridor! Seal it off before they flank us! Move!"
They didn't hesitate. Mitch bolted first, gun up, shouting over his shoulder for Amber to cover him. Liam followed close behind, steady and methodical, the kind of soldier who could make order out of chaos. They sprinted down the blood-slick floor toward the broken shopfront that served as our southern flank.
Amber was just ahead of them, spear braced, holding off a wave of smaller goblins trying to break through. Her movements were fierce, efficient, but she was tired. I saw it in her shoulders, the half-second delay between strikes. One goblin ducked low, feinting, while another lunged from the side. Amber caught the first with a downward swing, but the second slipped past and drove its jagged spear straight through her ribs.
The sound it made wasn't the clean ring of metal. It was wet, final.
Amber gasped, a sharp, strangled breath, eyes wide with disbelief as blood bloomed across her chest. Mitch screamed her name, charging toward her, but Liam caught him by the collar and yanked him back.
"She's gone! Fall back!"
Mitch fought him, half-crazed, trying to break free, but Liam didn't let go. He dragged him backward, firing over his shoulder to keep the goblins at bay. Amber's body hit the floor behind them, already lost beneath the tide.
A second wave poured from the side corridor, goblins armored in scrap metal and glass, their eyes glowing with the same sick light as the altar. One caught Liam mid-turn, slamming into him with a makeshift club. He staggered, just for a second, enough for another goblin to drive a rusted blade into his side.
Liam roared, shoving the creature away and firing point-blank, killing it even as he went down. His last act was pulling Mitch back behind a fallen kiosk, shielding him from the swarm with his own body.
By the time the others reached them, Liam was gone, slumped forward, his hand still clutching Mitch's jacket.
Mitch didn't make a sound. He just stared at Liam's blood on his uniform, at the gap where Amber had stood, and something in him cracked so quietly I almost missed it.
Nicole was the first to reach him. She dropped to one knee beside the body, her gun still in her hand, her breathing ragged from the fight. For a moment, the noise of the battle seemed to fade around her. Her fingers brushed over Liam's neck, checking for a pulse she already knew wasn't there.
Her expression didn't crumble; it just… folded in on itself. Small, quiet.
She exhaled through her nose and stared at the floor, jaw tight, eyes rimmed with a shine that caught the altar's green light. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, almost gentle.
"You stubborn bastard."
She pressed her forehead briefly against his shoulder, a gesture so quick most wouldn't notice, then pushed herself back up, squaring her stance. The sadness stayed, buried deep under the steel, but I could see it flicker every time she looked at him.
"We hold the line," she said, voice steady again. "He bought us that chance. Don't waste it."
She didn't look back when she turned away.
I caught Mitch still kneeling beside the body, staring at the blood on his hands, until Devan pulled him up and shoved a weapon into his grip. The fight wasn't over. Not yet. But with every loss, it felt like the world was demanding more than we had left to give.
I turned, eyes wild, searching for an answer. But there was none. The goblins kept coming, their feral shrieks growing louder, the Shaman's laughter echoing across the battleground. His power was growing, and we were slipping.
Amber. Liam. Josh. Three names that shouldn't have been carved into memory yet.
I didn't know Josh well. He was just a kid, barely older than my oldest son, with hands that still shook when he held a weapon. He'd talked about college once, about how he was supposed to graduate before the world went to hell. I remembered thinking he and his sister didn't belong here, that someone like them should've been building something, not dying in a food court surrounded by monsters.
Amber had been different. Tough. Smart mouth. The kind of woman who didn't wait for orders; she made them happen. She'd been with my team long enough to know how I fought, how I thought. I never said it out loud, but I trusted her. She had that rare kind of reliability—the kind you don't appreciate until it's gone.
And Liam… he was solid. Trained. A soldier to the core. Sure, we didn't get along at first, but he was one of the few who didn't question. Nicole didn't hesitate to act when everything went to shit. He dragged Mitch back when he could've saved himself. That's who he was, discipline wrapped in loyalty.
Three different people. Three different reasons to keep fighting. And now they were all gone.
I felt it—this heavy pull in my chest, not grief exactly, but weight. The kind that sits behind your heart and doesn't leave, no matter how many times you try to fight it off. I'd lost people before, dozens, maybe hundreds. But this felt different. Maybe because I wasn't supposed to care anymore. Maybe because I finally did. All I know is that if I am struggling, then my other kids are too. Please be alright.
The Shaman's magic pulsed again, sending waves of green light crawling across the floor. Every flicker made the blood look deeper, darker, like the mall itself was bleeding. The air reeked of iron and smoke, and the screams felt farther away—like the world was starting to close in around us.
I couldn't stop to mourn them. Not yet.
Movement caught my eye. Small, fast, reckless.
Lian.
She was sprinting toward the front, blade in hand, her boots splashing through blood as she weaved between bodies. Her face was pale, streaked with grime and tears, but her eyes burned with something sharp. Determination. Fury. Maybe both.
For a split second, I didn't understand what she was doing. Then I saw the Shaman turn his gaze toward her. The staff began to glow.
"Lian! Fall back!" I shouted, but she didn't listen.
Behind her, I heard Wei Shen's voice, hoarse, panicked, raw. "Lian, stop!"
He started to move, but one of his men caught his arm. "Sir, let me go. Focus on the women! I'll get her!"
The man didn't wait for an answer. He ran after her, shoving past broken tables and corpses. The air shook as the Shaman raised his staff higher, the green light intensifying until it hurt to look at.
The man reached her just as the spell hit.
The blast tore through the floor, sending both of them flying. I saw the flash before I heard the sound—then dust, debris, and the smell of burning flesh filled the air. Lian hit the ground hard, her weapon skittering away, while the man landed a few feet behind her, body twisted at an angle that said everything.
He wasn't moving.
"No!" Lian's voice broke as she crawled toward him. Her hands trembled when she touched his shoulder. His chest didn't rise. Didn't fall.
She froze, and for a second, the battlefield disappeared for her, like the world had gone silent.
I sprinted toward her, slicing through the goblin that lunged at her from the side, blood splattering across my face. I grabbed her by the collar and yanked her to her feet.
"Focus, Lian!" I barked, shoving her behind me. "You can cry later. Right now, you fight."
Her eyes snapped up to mine, wet, wide, but burning again. I saw the shift happen, that sharp edge of pain turning into something else. Resolve.
She nodded once, wiped her face with the back of her hand, and reached for her weapon.
"Good," I said, turning back toward the Shaman. "Then let's make it count."