The city burned behind her, towers collapsing into the smoke-choked sky. The last evacuation train screamed on the tracks, its engines glowing like molten fire.
Sergeant Aria pushed through the shattered platform, rifle clutched tight. Metal footsteps thundered after her—drones, a pack of them, red sensors locked on target.
She vaulted over debris, firing in bursts. Two drones went down in sparks, the third lunged with a blade-arm. She swung her rifle like a hammer, shattering its head into shards.
“Move, Sergeant!” a soldier’s voice called from the train’s doorway.
She turned. Dozens of civilians were crammed inside, wide-eyed, waiting for her to reach them.
The swarm regrouped. One drone fired—a bolt of plasma split the air. Aria dove, rolled hard, and came up with a grenade someone had dropped. Pin. Throw. Boom. The blast lit the ruins like lightning, scattering steel limbs across the platform.
The ground trembled. More shadows poured from the smoke. She dashed for the train as its horn wailed. Then—a heavier drone dropped in front of her, claws scraping concrete, eyes glowing blood-red.
Aria smirked through her sweat. “Wrong day to block me.”
It slashed. She slid under the blades, jammed her rifle against its chest, and fired until it blew apart in a burst of molten sparks.
The train jolted forward.
Aria sprinted, every muscle screaming, the platform cracking beneath her. A soldier leaned out, hand outstretched. She leapt, catching his wrist just as the ground gave way. He hauled her inside, and the train tore through the burning city.
Aria collapsed to the floor, chest heaving, civilians clutching one another around her.
For a long moment, only the roar of the engine filled the silence. Then she sat up, eyes still burning with fight.
“Next stop,” she said, loading her rifle, “we stop running.”
