At 0600 hours, the scout team deployed from Ironwatch Hold.
It was a three-person unit:
Corporal Vinn Seras – Scout Sniper
Private Kato Drex – Rookie Infantry
Specialist Rhea Tannis – Recon & Tech Support
Codename:Echo Needle.
Mission: Track down the source of the 'Nomad' signal and locate Angelo Walker and any surviving members of his family.
While they ventured into the unknown, a second team departed for the original attack site—the place where Dr. Grant and his unit had been ambushed. This group, led by Major Rix Harrow, was tasked with combing through the devastation for any overlooked trace of their mysterious enemy.
They searched methodically, examining the terrain and positions around the destroyed vehicles. The bodies and gear had already been collected during the first sweep. Now, they were looking for something else. Clues. Evidence. Anything that might point to what had attacked them.
So far, it was always the same: vehicles torn apart, weapons discharged to no effect. No tracks. No trails.
No answers.
Until one soldier strayed a bit further from where the guards had fallen, near where the armored truck had been discovered.
"Major Harrow!" the soldier called out.
Harrow approached quickly. "What is it?"
The soldier pointed. "Sir, take a look at this."
Embedded in the dirt was a shard—faintly glowing, glass-like in appearance, yet somehow unnatural. Harrow knelt to get a better look, his good eye narrowing.
It pulsed faintly with a cold, pale light.
"Pick it up," Harrow ordered. "Bring it back. It might be the break we need."
The soldier crouched, reaching for it with his bare hand.
He picked it up. It sat in his palm for a second—then pulsed with a bright green glow and seared into his skin, burning his palm.
"AH—FUCK!" he shouted, yanking his hand back.
Harrow's voice was sharp. "What happened?"
The soldier grimaced, clutching his hand. "Sorry, sir. I… I wasn't thinking. It's hot—really hot. Burned me."
Harrow gave him a hard stare. "Didn't they teach you anything in basic? Gloves. Always."
"Yes, sir. Won't happen again."
Harrow waved over another soldier. "You—grab it. Use gloves."
The second soldier pulled on thick tactical gloves and carefully lifted the shard.
"… Sir," he said after a moment. "It stopped glowing."
Harrow frowned. "What?"
The shard's light had vanished completely. It now looked like nothing more than a sliver of cloudy glass. Cold. Lifeless.
"Still, bag it," Harrow muttered. "We're taking it back."
They finished sweeping the area but found nothing else of note. With the shard secured, the team returned to base.
Specialist Milo Renn walked into the medical ward, cradling his right hand. A couple of medics nearby looked up and groaned in mock annoyance.
"Milo, again? What did you do this time?" one of them asked.
Milo shrugged, unfazed. "Touched a glowing alien glass shard. Burned my hand. Nothing major."
Another medic sighed. "Let me guess—you forgot your gloves again?"
"Yeah. My bad," Milo replied, slipping into the nearest chair with a lazy smirk.
A moment later, Lieutenant Asha Relin stepped in. Seeing her, Milo quickly stood and saluted. "Lieutenant."
"At ease, Specialist," Relin said, walking over. "Sit back down and let me see the burn."
Milo showed her his hand. The skin was reddened and angry, but no blistering yet.
"Hm," Relin murmured. "Looks like a standard contact burn. But considering where it came from, we'll keep you under observation for a few days."
She turned to a nearby nurse. "Take a few samples—skin, blood—and treat the burn. Then send him to the monitoring ward. Three days quarantine."
"Yes, ma'am."
Relin walked out as the nurse gathered the tools. She took a skin sample from the edge of the burn, drew a blood sample, then cleaned and bandaged his hand.
"Alright," she said. "Please report to the monitoring ward. We'll send over your supplies."
Milo stood up and sighed. "Really? Three days? All because I had to touch the damn thing…" He muttered to himself as he left the room.
Relin made her way down the hall to check on Dr. Grant. She stepped into his room and found him lying on his back, silently staring at the ceiling.
"Pain levels today?" she asked.
Grant blinked and looked at her. "None. I think the meds are working."
Relin nodded. "The scout team deployed at 0600. They're heading for the signal—Nomad."
Grant's fingers curled slightly. "Wish I could've gone with them."
Relin gave a small sigh. "That's not happening anytime soon. You need rest. Your leg is gone, remember?"
"I know," Grant replied quietly. "But still… I wonder what that kid is doing. Is he alright?"
Relin tilted her head slightly. "Why do you care so much about him? That kid—Angelo."
Grant's voice softened. "Because he's a good kid. He's been through more than anyone should. He reminds me of a younger brother… one I never had."
Specialist Milo Renn lay on the quarantine room bed, staring at the ceiling and humming to himself. The room was sterile, quiet, and most importantly—boring.
A soldier stepped in and handed him a small duffel bag of essentials.
"Here's your gear for the next three days."
Milo sat up and peeked inside the bag. "Hey, can you grab a few things from my room? Maybe my tablet, or that disassembled drone in the corner? I'm gonna lose my mind in here."
The soldier shook his head. "Sorry, not allowed. Orders are clear—no personal tech or tools."
"Oh, come on," Milo groaned, flopping back on the bed. "You're really gonna make me survive 72 hours in this white box with nothing?"
"Orders are orders," the soldier said flatly, then turned and left the room.
Milo stared at the door after it closed, then looked down at his bandaged hand. He muttered, "Stupid alien glass shard. Got me locked in here with nothing but socks and toothpaste…"
Elsewhere.
The scout team rolled across cracked dirt roads and fractured concrete in a rugged, all-terrain recon vehicle—DRV-9 "Strider". Painted matte black with faded yellow hazard stripes, the vehicle's hull bore the wear of a hundred deployments. Dust and dry grass kicked up behind the wheels as they moved, the engine humming like a beast held on a leash.
Specialist Rhea Tannis sat at the wheel, one hand steady on the controls, the other adjusting the route on her HUD. "Signal's still live—holding steady. We've got a long drive ahead."
In the back seat, Private Kato Drex leaned forward between the front seats. "So… who exactly is this Angelo guy? I hadn't even heard his name before. And now suddenly we're tracking him like he's some priority asset?"
Corporal Vinn Seras, riding shotgun, didn't take his eyes off the landscape. "You remember those chills we all felt back at the base, Kato?"
Kato blinked. "Chills? You mean those moments where it felt like… like death was breathing down our necks?"
"Yeah, those were from Angelo." Vinn replied. "The worst one? That paralyzing one where even blinking felt like a bad idea?"
Kato nodded slowly. "That one was the worst. I couldn't even move. I thought I was going to die…"
Vinn hesitated, then said, "Maybe… that was him too."
Kato froze in his seat, the color draining from his face.
"You think that was Angelo?"
Rhea cut in, her voice flat. "We know the first chills came from Angelo—command confirmed it. The last one felt the same, but worse. Same silence. Same dread. It all lines up."
Kato's voice trembled. "We're going toward that thing? Are we suicidal?"
"It's our mission," Rhea said calmly. "Locate Angelo Walker and any surviving members of his family. That's what command ordered."
"I heard he can create matter from thin air," Vinn added. "He was the one who did most of the fighting against the Watchers… and even against the Angels."
Rhea looked at Kato. "You're not losing your nerve already, are you?"
Kato gritted his teeth. "No. I'm not afraid of him."
Vinn glanced back. "Then why are you shaking?"
Kato paused, clenched his fists, then slapped both sides of his face. "I'm fine. Let's just… find this guy."
Strider continued down the path, suspension bouncing lightly as they neared the Nomad signal, its frequency pulsing brighter with every meter closed.