The VTOL shuddered as it climbed higher, engines roaring against the pull of gravity.
Smoke and fire dwindled below, the battlefield shrinking as they ascended into the gray morning sky.
Emily pressed her palm against her wounded arm, blood seeping through her fingers, but she barely felt the pain.
Her mind was still in the fight, replaying the moment Damien nearly fell—how close they had come to losing everything.
Beside her, Theo exhaled sharply. "We made it," he muttered, though his tone lacked relief.
Damien, standing near the cockpit, didn't look back. His eyes were fixed on the horizon. "For now."
Reyes stepped forward, her expression unreadable. "That was reckless," she said, addressing Damien. "You should be dead."
Damien's gaze flicked toward her, his face unreadable. "But I'm not."
She let out a dry chuckle. "Lucky you. But luck won't last forever."