After the new day ended and night sky was alive with fire. Drones buzzed like swarms of metallic hornets, sweeping their searchlights across the broken skyline of Cavite. Somewhere nearby, the crackle of gunfire echoed, followed by the heavy, inhuman hum of AI weaponry.
Zen crouched behind the crumbling wall of an abandoned market, his eyes sharp, scanning the chaos unfolding across the street. His team of trainees, Wave 82, huddled in silence, breaths ragged but controlled.
Through the smoke, they saw it: a tall commercial building, its glass facade shattered, its lower floors under siege. Human security guards fired desperately from the entrance, their bullets bouncing harmlessly off drone plating. Above, more drones circled like vultures, dropping small but deadly explosives.
"They won't last," muttered Antony, clutching his rifle. His knuckles were white.
Zen's jaw tightened. He already knew. The guards were brave, but bravery wasn't enough against machines designed to anticipate, adapt, and annihilate.
"Jerald," Zen whispered, pulling his second-in-command closer. Jerald's expression was tense, sweat dripping from his forehead, but his eyes never wavered.
"We split," Zen said, his tone calm but ironclad. "Your team goes in. Get the civilians out, whoever's left. Take them back to camp."
Jerald blinked. "And you?"
Zen's lips curved into the ghost of a grim smile. "We'll draw the swarm. Give you cover."
There was no time for debate. He gave orders quickly, voice low but steady:
Team Jerald: Jerald, JM, and Reign. Objective—rescue and escort.
Team Zen: Zen, Antony, Nalren, Charity, and Rainer. Objective—bait and destroy.
The trainees nodded, each understanding the gravity of their role. Fear lingered in their eyes, but Zen could see something stronger beneath it: resolve.
"Listen to me," Zen said, raising his voice just enough for all to hear. "We're not soldiers. We're survivors. That's our advantage. We don't fight their war—we fight our way. Unpredictable. Human. That's how we win."
No one argued.
Jerald clasped Zen's arm briefly. A soldier's grip, but also a friend's. "Don't get killed."
"You too," Zen replied.
Then, the team moved.
---
The Diversion
Team Zen struck first. From the shadows of the alley, Zen hurled a Molotov cocktail into the street. It burst into flames, casting wild shadows across the walls. Antony followed with a barrage of gunfire, while Charity and Rainer shouted, drawing the drones' attention.
The machines swiveled, scanners locking onto the noise. In seconds, half the swarm peeled away from the building, swarming toward the alley like mechanical predators scenting blood.
"Go!" Zen barked through the radio.
Jerald didn't hesitate.
Team Jerald sprinted across the debris-strewn road, bullets pinging around them. The building's front was in ruins, security guards falling one by one under the merciless advance of the drones.
Jerald was the first through the shattered glass doors, JM and Reign close behind. Smoke filled the lobby. The cries of civilians echoed in the distance—terrified voices, desperate prayers.
"Over here!" A man's voice, hoarse but strong.
They found him crouched behind an overturned desk—Dr. Kielmark. His glasses were cracked, his white coat stained with soot. Beside him was a woman and two young men. The younger boy, maybe eighteen; and the older, around nineteen, gritted his teeth, holding a metal pipe like it could ward off death itself.
"My wife," the man gasped, pulling Danna forward. "Our boys—McCoy and Rene. Please, we can't hold any longer."
Jerald's chest tightened. They weren't just survivors. They were a family. And not just any family—medical professionals. Doctors. Nurses. In this new world, they were worth more than gold.
"We're here to get you out," Jerald said firmly, meeting Kielmark's eyes. "Stay close. Don't stop, no matter what."
The family nodded, clinging to hope like a lifeline.
"JM, cover rear. Reign, lead us out," Jerald ordered.
They moved fast, weaving through the wreckage as gunfire rattled outside. A drone buzzed past a broken window, its sensors flaring red. Jerald raised his rifle and fired, the shot cracking the air. Sparks exploded, the drone crashing down in a shower of glass.
"Keep moving!" he shouted.
Behind him, McCoy stumbled. The young man face was pale with fear. Jerald scooped him up without hesitation as they ran.
Every step was a gamble. Every corner could have been their last.
As they neared the street, Jerald pressed a finger to his radio.
"Zen, we have the family. En route back. What's your status?"
Static.
He frowned. Tried again. "Zen, do you copy? Zen?"
Only static.
JM's eyes widened. "We lost them."
Jerald's gut twisted. He wanted to go back, to find them. But Zen's last order rang in his mind—get them to camp.
He tightened his grip on McCoy. "We move. Now."
---
The Retreat
The street was chaos. Flames licked the sky, drones swooping overhead. The last security guard fell to his knees, riddled with bullets, before collapsing.
Jerald's team darted across open ground, weaving through shadows. He fired bursts to keep drones at bay, JM tossed improvised explosives, the blasts echoing like thunder.
"Almost there!" Jerald shouted.
But then, one of the drones broke off, scanning, its red sensor beam slicing through the smoke. It locked onto them.
"DOWN!" Jerald roared.
The drone opened fire, bullets sparking off concrete. Danna screamed, shielding her two boys. JM raised her rifle, shooting the drone in a desperate spray until it spiraled and exploded.
They ran. Hearts pounding. Every second felt like an eternity.
Finally, the familiar outline of the Cavite training camp loomed in the distance. The sight of its barricades, its faint lantern glow, nearly brought Jerald to tears.
---
Back at Camp
"Gate! OPEN THE GATE!" Reign shouted hoarsely.
The trainees on watch scrambled, pulling the gates apart. Jerald's team burst through, half-dragging, half-carrying the survivors. The gate slammed shut behind them.
Trainer Genesis was already there, her eyes blazing. "Report!"
Jerald turned to face her. His chest heaved, his face streaked with dirt and sweat. "We found survivors. A doctor, a nurse, their sons. But…" His throat tightened. "We lost contact with Zen."
The camp fell silent.
Danna clutched her sons, tears running down her face as she whispered thank-yous over and over. Dr. Kielmark adjusted his broken glasses, staring at the trainees as if they were miracles.
Genesis's jaw clenched. She placed a hand on Jerald's shoulder. "You did what you had to. Zen knew the risk."
"But what if—" JM started, voice breaking.
"No," Genesis cut him off sharply. "We don't bury people before we see the body. Zen is alive. He has to be."
The words were steel, but her eyes flickered with the weight of fear.
Jerald lowered his head. For the first time since the mission began, he allowed himself to breathe. Relief at saving the family, grief for the fallen guards, and dread for the silence on the other end of the radio.
The camp gathered around the newcomers, offering food, blankets, water. Gies rushed from the kitchen, thrusting bowls of hot porridge into their hands. Cha and Jules began tending to scrapes and burns, their movements brisk but gentle.
And yet, even as the camp moved with purpose, a shadow lingered over them all.
The survivors were safe. The camp had grown stronger.
But somewhere in the smoke-filled night, Team Zen was silent.
And silence, in this new world, was never a good sign.
Zen's absence was a wound no medicine could heal.
----
Camp Reorganization
The camp adjusted quickly to its newest additions. Trainer Genesis wasted no time assigning roles:
Dr. Kielmark → officially appointed Head of Medical Team.
Danna → became Head Nurse, steady and fearless.
McCoy & Rene Boy → joined as medical staff-in-training, their youth tempered by determination.
Together with Jules and Cha, they formed a fully functioning medical unit — the heart of the camp's survival.
Jules whispered to Genesis as she passed charts to Danna, "This… this changes everything. We can actually keep people alive now."
Genesis only nodded, though her eyes softened briefly.
Meanwhile, Naida was reassigned. Genesis, recognizing her growing courage and the bond she'd built with Jerald's group together with JM, and Reign, placed her with Team Jerald. Naida didn't hesitate — she saluted sharply and said, "I won't let them down."
Two nights after the rescue, while the camp huddled over their evening meal, Niko burst into the courtyard with the radio pressed to his ear. His eyes were wide, his hands trembling.
"Signal—!" he shouted. "It's Zen's team!"
Everyone froze, bowls clattering against the ground. Genesis shot to her feet.
Niko twisted the knobs, and through the static came a faint, broken voice—
"…This is Zen. We're alive… drones neutralized… regrouping… hold the camp strong…"
The line crackled with static. A burst of gunfire echoed faintly through the transmission.
"…Repeat… alive… hold—"
Then silence.
Niko smacked the radio in frustration. "No! Damn it, I lost them again!"
The camp was deathly still. Some looked to Genesis. Others stared at the dirt, afraid to hope.
Jerald stepped forward, voice firm despite the ache in his chest. "You heard him. They're alive. That's what matters."
Dr. Kielmark, standing with his wife and sons, exhaled deeply, as though he'd been holding his breath for hours. Danna squeezed his arm. McCoy and Rene Boy clung to each other, relief washing over their young faces.
Genesis raised her chin, her voice carrying like steel. "Zen is alive. His team is alive. Until they return, we don't falter. We build. We defend. We endure."
Around her, nods spread, quiet at first, then resolute.
The fire crackled in the pit again, the only sound besides the steady hum of human resolve.
The camp gains hope but still doesn't know Zen's exact fate.