5th March 2031 — 10:00
Combined Military Hospital (CMH), Dhaka
Sohel, Naomi, Jacob, and Mitali stood together on the hospital helipad. Mitali rested her hand on the handle of her luggage bag as the four shared a quiet conversation, their words a mix of relief and exhaustion. Suddenly, a faint but familiar whirring sound grew louder overhead.
They all looked up, eyes scanning the sky. A sleek black, blue, and white helicopter emerged from behind the city's tall buildings, steadily descending toward the helipad.
The helicopter landed smoothly, and the door beside the pilot's seat slid open. A lean, blonde man stepped out, walking briskly toward them. Sohel's face lit up with a genuine smile. The man and Sohel embraced like old brothers reunited.
Leonard Petrov, flight lieutenant—"Leon," as he preferred—grinned and clapped Sohel on both shoulders.
"How do you manage to damage yourself this much on your first mission?" he teased.
Sohel shot back with a grin, "Like you're one to talk. Always doing those odd jobs while we're on the frontlines."
Leon shrugged, "Unlike you, I love my life. Not about to throw it away that easily. Frontlines aren't for me—I've got other battles to fight."
Mitali, watching the exchange, gave a polite smile, unsure of who this was. Leonard noticed and turned toward her.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he said. "Flight Lieutenant Leonard Petrov. But please, call me Leon."
Naomi gestured toward Mitali, "Meet our squad's newest member, combat medic Sergeant Mitali Roy."
Leon smiled warmly. "Welcome to the SNA, Sergeant." Turning back to Sohel, he said, "Come on, let's get moving before we're late."
Sohel nodded, and the group started walking toward the waiting helicopter, ready for the next chapter.
---
14:09
SNA Headquarters, Tokyo, Japan
The helicopter landed on the rooftop helipad of a towering 53-story building. One by one, the squad stepped off the aircraft.
The moment Sohel's foot touched solid ground, a young woman dashed toward him. Her long, light blue hair shimmered in the sunlight, and her soft yet sharp eyes sparkled behind glasses identical to Sohel's.
Tears streamed down her face as she hugged him tightly.
"I was so worried," she sobbed. "If I'd known what you were facing, I would've sent more tech."
Sohel smiled gently. "We're okay now."
Naomi came up beside them, resting a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder.
"Anne, calm down. We all survived."
Sohel gestured to his missing arm with a wry smile.
"But I could definitely use a hand."
Annabelle laughed through her tears.
"Of course. I'll get started on that right away."
Leon's voice cut through their reunion.
"Move, folks! Down to the 27th floor — room 171. Grab your ceremonial uniforms, freshen up, and be ready for the conference hall on the 40th floor by 1750."
"So, boss," Sohel replied sarcastically, "Yes, boss."
They entered the elevator and descended. On the 27th floor, they found room 171, which opened to five smaller rooms labeled with their names. They exchanged knowing looks and entered their own rooms.
Sohel's room was tastefully designed, more like a hotel suite than a barracks. On the bed lay his new SNA ceremonial uniform, pristine and waiting. The washroom held fresh towels and toiletries.
He smiled. Finally, a moment of peace.
He shed his hospital gown and eased into the bathtub, soaking away the fatigue and pain. An hour passed in quiet reflection before he stepped out and donned the crisp uniform.
Standing before the mirror, he looked at his reflection—at the missing left arm. He sighed deeply but squared his shoulders, placed his hat on his head, and walked out to join the others.
---
18:00
Conference Hall, SNA Headquarters
The hall was empty — the graduation ceremony two days earlier had been missed during their mission. Now, all members of Bravo Squad stood side by side, eyes fixed on the stage.
A man in his fifties with fiery red hair and a cold gaze entered briskly. An eye patch covered his left eye, adding to his intimidating presence. Without sparing them a glance, he climbed the steps and took his place.
Behind him, a man and a woman stood solemnly. The woman approached the podium and addressed the room.
"Congratulations to Bravo Squad on completing your mission successfully and graduating. Given the mission's extreme difficulty, you will also be promoted."
Joy and pride radiated from each member as they stepped forward, one by one, to receive their medals from the General.
When Sohel approached, the General looked him in the eye and said quietly, "I'm sorry for your arm, but good job."
Sohel smiled faintly and whispered back, "You're in for a lecture, old man."
The General chuckled, "I'll meet you at the squad house tomorrow. Keep a beer ready."
The squad then lined up before the General. The woman's voice rang out over the microphone again.
"Now, introduce yourselves with your new ranks and callsigns."
One by one they spoke clearly and proudly:
Captain Sohel Chowdhury, Callsign: Ghost; Bangladesh Army
1st Lieutenant Naomi Kobayashi, Callsign: Medusa; Japan Self Defense Force
2nd Lieutenant Annabelle Josephina Watson, Callsign: Princess; British Royal Army (Non-combatant)
Sergeant Jacob Williams, Callsign: Blast; Italian Army
Sergeant Mitali Roy, Callsign: — ; Bangladesh Army
The woman's voice softened, "Well done, soldiers. Report to New Eden and stand by at your squad house for your next mission. Dismissed."
As they left the hall, the weight of their journey settled on them. They had fought battles, lost parts of themselves, and faced the darkest of enemies—but together, they had emerged stronger.
Their story was far from over. But for now, they had earned this victory.