Ning Que and his squad, Linx, Viera, Aeris, and Lian, regathered themselves in the rubble, their bodies aching and their spirits frayed. Grit and grime caked their faces, mingling with the sweat that dripped down their temples.
Beneath the profound physical exhaustion, however, a seething undercurrent of raw emotion roiled, threatening to boil over.
Lian stood slightly apart from the group, a shadow of her former self. Her uniform was torn, her skin bruised and bloodied, yet a fierce determination burned in her eyes, a light that sought to cut through the suffocating anger directed at her. It was a gaze that spoke louder than any apology she could form.
But Ning Que's team wasn't so easily swayed. The memory of the trap, of the betrayal, was a fresh, bleeding wound.