Inside a battered army mess tents, the air reeked of sweat, burnt coffee, and gun oil. Soldiers sat hunched over metal trays, eating in silence or murmuring in low tones.
Ethan sat near the edge of the room, gauntlet still sheathed in a dull glow. His armor was scorched, his face hidden behind the visor. Around him, whispers crawled like insects.
"That's him…"
"Saved our asses, didn't he?"
"Saved us today but tomorrow? Who knows where those things'll point their claws."
The scrape of metal against metal was loud in the hush Ethan cutting into the gray slab of meat on his tray. He didn't eat. The respirator on his jaw hissed faintly as it filtered the city's acrid air.
A soldier across the table, young and gaunt-eyed, finally broke the silence.
"You don't even eat, do you? Not human enough for that?"
The table stiffened.
Ethan's visor lifted slightly. His voice was low, flat.
"I eat when I need to, same as you."
The young soldier scoffed, bitter. "Yeah? And when those things you built 'need to eat'? What then? You gonna feed 'em us?"
Chairs shifted. One of the older sergeants at the table slammed a hand down.
"Shut it, Price. You saw what those bastards did out there. If not for his machines, we'd be bug food right now."
Price shot back, voice shaking more with fear than anger. "And what about when the bugs are gone? You really think those things just… shut down? You saw 'em, Sarge. They don't even flinch when we hit them. They don't break, they don't bleed. They just keep coming."
Ethan leaned forward, visor reflecting the boy's pale face.
"They don't eat. They don't sleep. They don't betray. They exist to fight the swarm." His tone sharpened, each word a blade. "That's more than can be said for your politicians, or your nukes."
The tent went quiet. Price dropped his gaze.
The sergeant gave Ethan a long, searching look. "Then answer me this… If they're really under your command, if they really only exist for the swarm what happens when the swarm's gone?"
Ethan didn't answer. His gauntlet pulsed faintly, like a heartbeat.
---
General Harrison stood over the holomap again, this time with Ethan present. The map was worse now red zones spreading across the globe like a plague. South America riddled with infestations. Africa dark with signal loss. Even the oceans churned with reports of hive-ships crawling from the depths.
"This isn't a war," the general muttered, voice ragged. "It's a flood and we're standing on sandbags."
Ethan's visor tilted. "Then stop patching leaks and try building higher walls."
Harrison's eyes flicked to him, tired and sharp. "That's what I brought you here for. You and your… constructs."
The adjutant cut in. "Sir, reports confirm the nuclear strikes wiped out three crash sites, but the swarm adapted. The bastards are tunneling underground now, breeding where we can't hit them from orbit."
"Underground?" Ethan's voice was calm, but the faint hiss of his respirator betrayed strain. "Then they'll be harder to contain. My workers can dig. Expand. Fortify the tunnels. If you give me the scrap, I'll give you the army to hold them back."
Harrison bristled. "You think I'm just gonna hand over our stockpiles of steel, copper, and fuel? My men already don't trust you. You walk into my city with a private army and start demanding resources like a goddamn warlord."
"I'm not asking," Ethan cut in, voice cold. "Every second you waste arguing is another hive dug deeper. Another nest you'll never burn out. Your nukes buy time. That's all. My machines can hold the line without lives being sacrificed."
The adjutant glanced nervously between them. The tension was a wire pulled taut.
At last, Harrison exhaled, shoulders sagging. "Fine. You get your scrap. But I'm assigning an oversight unit, a handler. Someone who'll keep eyes on you, make sure those things don't start building something we can't control."
Ethan's visor tilted. "And if I refuse?"
Harrison didn't flinch. His gaze was steady, voice like gravel.
"You won't. General Moore already cleared the agreement with the Defense Council. You get your scrap, you get to build. In exchange, we get oversight. That's the only reason you're still breathing and not strapped to a table in some bunker lab."
Ethan's visor tilted, the faint glow pulsing once. "And if I don't like your agreement?"
The adjutant shifted uneasily. Harrison leaned closer to the table, voice dropping.
"Then the government will do what governments always do. We'll take your toys apart. We'll bleed you for your secrets. You think you're the first miracle we've had to put on a leash? You know how this ends if you don't play along especially with how desperate the nations are with this alien invasion."
A long pause. The respirator hissed once, slow and steady. Then Ethan inclined his head, just slightly.
"Fine, who's the handler?"
Harrison's eyes hardened. "You'll meet her tomorrow, in the base."
Harrison straightened, dragging a hand down his weathered face. His voice lost some of its edge, but not its weight.
"You'll be escorted to the base tomorrow. There, you'll build more of your machines. They'll be deployed where we need them most against the swarm. In the streets, in the tunnels, wherever the bastards spread."
Ethan's visor shifted toward him. "You make it sound like containment is possible."
The general's jaw tightened. He tapped a finger against the holomap, where new red blotches bled across oceans and continents. His eyes hardened.
"You probably don't know this… but Mars is already gone. Our probes confirmed it a week ago. Whole colony if you can even call it that anymore, the whole mars is blanketed in hives. The bugs own it now, their second homeworld... or their hundredth homeworld we don't know"
The adjutant's voice cracked as he added, "If they launch again from there, it won't just be fragments burning into our skies it'll be fleets and we'll be ants under a boot."
"That's why we need you. Your machines. Every second counts. If Mars was only their first staging ground, then Earth… Earth is already the next battlefield."
Silence stretched between them. Ethan's gauntlet pulsed once, faint and steady. Then his voice cut through.
"Then I want my own base."
The adjutant's head snapped toward him. "That's not..."
Harrison held up a hand, silencing him. The general studied Ethan's visor for a long moment, then nodded.
"You'll have it. Near our main stronghold in the Great Basin desert. Plenty of open ground, easy to fortify. Close enough that we can keep an eye on you, far enough that you won't spook my men every time your machines move."
Ethan inclined his head slightly. "And the resources?"
"You'll get steel, alloy, copper, and fuel as requested," Harrison said. "But under condition." His eyes narrowed. "You can only take ten of your machines with you in this city. The rest stay here in the city, they'll patrol, Sweep the ruins and make sure no hidden nests are growing under our noses."
The respirator hissed again. Ethan's visor tilted just slightly toward the map, toward the spreading red. Then he looked back at Harrison.
"Ten will be enough to build."
"Good." Harrison's voice was final, but heavy. He rubbed his temples, then barked to the adjutant. "Prep the escort. He leaves within the hour."
The adjutant saluted and hurried off.
Ethan rose slowly, the gauntlet's dull glow casting faint light across the tent. Soldiers outside shifted uneasily as he stepped out, the hum of constructs echoing faintly behind him.
Within minutes, rotor blades thundered overhead. A helicopter squatted on the cracked tarmac, its engines whining.
As Ethan climbed aboard, Harrison stood at the edge of the pad, coat snapping in the wash of the blades. His voice cut through the roar.
"Remember this, we're giving you a base, resources, trust we can't afford. Don't make me regret it. Because if you turn those machines on us…" His eyes burned like embers. "…I'll be the one to burn your desert to glass."
Ethan settled into the seat, visor gleaming faintly in the dim light. The helicopter lifted, carrying him toward the desert. The city shrank behind him, a scarred labyrinth of ruins patrolled now by his constructs.
For the first time since the sky fell, he had space. Resources. A foundation.
And somewhere beyond the night sky, Mars swarmed with the same monsters clawing at Earth.