The system is not our friend, never forget that.

  - Former UWO President Benchara -

  Barlow and me have joined the other soldiers on the castle’s front battlement, weathered stones that still stand in defiance against the elements. Just like us. A flare rises in the air from three miles out.

  “Anyone got a flare?” Brussels shouts down the long stone walkway atop the wall.

  “Here, Sergeant!” a soldier yells further down the line.

  “Good shit,” Brussels says, motioning with his chin.

  The flare rips into the air, sending a red glow up into the sky. The sun is beginning its march downward toward the horizon. Nightfall will be upon us soon, no telling when exactly though, it's different with every Gate. Squinting at the Gate, I can make out some vehicles rolling out of it. Barlow shoves the guy next him to get a better view, pulling out his binoculars.

  “Who is it?” Brussels asks him.

  Barlow tosses him the binoculars, “Fourth Platoon, Sergeant.”

  Brussels peers through the lens, a grin striking his blood caked face.

  “Thank God,” he grumbles. “Fight’s not over yet though, stay sharp, we still got a horde to deal with.”

  “Hooah, Sergeant,” everyone says.

  If we have reinforcements, that means that we can win this, pincer them in the shallow valley maybe? Winning also means I’m going to have to set up an aid station for the wounded, if any are still alive. Really hope the reinforcements brought supplies, one aid bag is definitely not enough.

  “Sergeant, I want to set up an aid station, did you locate your platoon’s medic yet?” I ask Brussels, he leans against the wall, clutching his abdomen, sweat beading his pale brow.

  “Haven’t seen her since the Wendigos showed up, haven’t seen the Lieutenant either. Missing a Humvee too, I’m sure you can guess the rest,” he says, spitting on the ground before looking back toward the reinforcements.

  So, Lieutenant probably took the medic and ordered the missing Humvee driver to leave everyone. Tran’s going to love hearing about that.

  “Outstanding leadership potential,” I sigh under my breath.

  “Yeah,” Brussels grunts, shaking his head, “Let’s wait for Fourth platoon before we set anything else up.”

  “Roger, Sergeant.”

  ***

  The sweep of the remaining horde was conducted meticulously and with extreme prejudice. The total losses we sustained was twenty-six soldiers, and six off-worlders, most due to the Wendigos. They did not leave much for me or Fourth Platoon’s medic to try and fix. Their medic, Private First Class Trulla, a wiry guy with a nervous tic, I’ve seen him around, Medic’s all know each other in our battalion. He’s pretty new, but he’s not bad. It’s good to have another one here. He’s a druidic healer, extremely rare, but apparently his attributes really suck, and the skill with mana manipulation is subpar. Probably why he’s assigned to our brigade and not getting poached by private sector or special ops.

  Looking out at the field now, toward the Gate, leaning against the wall with Tran and Barlow, we just finished telling him about the missing Humvee.

  “I can’t believe that Lieutenant actually took the Medic and a Humvee, guy I was driving with, he told me that Gaspers is a fire mage, that’s how he got his rank. Such a waste, could have burned the field and covered our asses for a regroup,” Tran says, he’s pissed again, nothing pisses him off more than shitty leadership, except maybe cute cat videos. He’s a dog person.

  “Yeah, that Gasper guy is a piece of work,” Barlow sighs, eyes watching the stretchers that shuffle the dead into neat rows, “Just glad we made it out.”

  “It’s not over yet,” I say, eyeing the counter in the corner of my vision still.

  67 hours : 28 minutes : 39 seconds

  The Platoon Leader for Fourth Platoon, she’s much better than Third’s. Even though she’s a freshly promoted 1st Lieutenant, all the Sergeants give her the respect of her rank. All of us are now under her command. We gave Brussels some IV meds, should help him stay stable until the gate clears.

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  There’s been no movement from the Gate for the last few hours, each minute that passes builds hope that we might endure this.

  “Is that…” Tran begins, pointing at one of the soldiers jumping out of the Humvee that just pulled up, “Cortez?”

  My eyes blink, her fit frame stalks towards us slowly, her deep hazel eyes trace over me for a moment before she looks away, why is she here? Only Fourth Platoon was supposed to show up, it’s standard protocol. Don’t keep throwing grunts at the fire. Spec ops will probably be here within a few hours, if not them, then a private force will be employed from the United Hunters Association. I’m about to question her, but there’s another person getting out of the Humvee on the other side. What… Staff Sergeant Mwangi, our platoon Sergeant. Both of them are here?

  “Specialists Novak, Tran and Barlow, as I live and breathe, you guys managed to not become cannon fodder,” Mwangi says, giving a proud smirk.

  “Sergeant?” Tran asks, shooting me and Barlow a confused glance.

  “They asked for volunteers,” Mwangi says. Looking at Cortez, “This one tried to join without telling me.”

  Cortez looks at the ground, not meeting my eye. Why would she do that? She never volunteers, she… she glances up at me again, looking me over, is she… is she checking for injuries? Did she come here for me? No, no way, right? Tran nudges me, a grin on his face and an eyebrow raise. I roll my eyes at him, she’s not that into me. It’s a fling, that’s what she told me from the start, no reason to get an inflated ego. Still, the third time she glances, her eyes are softer than normal.

  “Cortez, did you really come here to make sure…” Barlow begins in a playful tone.

  “Can it,” Cortez says, giving him a look, before glancing at me again. Her cheeks are a little flushed though. Shit, is it more than just a fling now?

  Not that I would be opposed, she’s definitely my type. Shaking my head of my delusions, I don’t want to start getting clingy, she said she hates clingy guys. Maybe she volunteered to boost her gate numbers, she’s been trying to get promoted to squad leader.

  “Sergeant Mwangi!” a sergeant yells from on top of the battlements above.

  “What!” Mwangi yells back, crossing his arms.

  “Lt wants you in the briefing!”

  Mwangi sighs, “Roger.”

  He gives us all that look he does, where he measures us. Then walks off.

  “Cortez, why did you…” Tran begins, his tone suggestive.

  “I swear to god Tran, you finish that sentence,” she says, giving him a glare.

  “And what?” he asks.

  “And I’ll tell your girlfriend you have the clap.”

  He blinks at her, then takes a step back before saying “Good to see you too.” Turning to Barlow, “I think they needed help counting the ammo cans.”

  “Right,” Barlow says, giving an eyebrow raise.

  “Subtle,” I say with an eyeroll as they leave me and Cortez alone.

  For the first time since I’ve known her, I’m at a loss for words, it’s somehow… awkward.

  “Why did…” I begin but she speaks at the same time.

  “Are you…”

  We both pause, waiting for the other to speak. The awkwardness compounds.

  “You go first,” I finally manage to say.

  Why is there suddenly so much tension?

  “Are you alright?” she asks, soft, like lilacs in the spring.

  She’s not usually this soft with me. Not unless we’re curled up after a long Gate run, and usually it’s playful.

  “Yeah, are you?” I ask her.

  “Good, yeah.”

  She glances at me again, then looks away quickly, pretending to be interested in checking her rifles sight.

  “Well good then,” she says, turning and… leaving.

  What the hell was that? Do I go after her? Do I say something else? Where do I go from here? She’s the one that told me to not catch feelings for her. She’s told me that for months… don’t tell me that she has now? Why now though? Just ask her. Be direct.

  “Cortez,” I say, moving toward her.

  She stops, but doesn’t turn.

  “Specialist Novac!” the same sergeant that called Mwangi yells.

  “Sergeant?”

  “Lt wants to see you!”

  See me? Why?

  “Roger Sergeant, on my way!” I yell up the wall at him.

  Walking up to Cortez now, she still hasn’t turned.

  “Can we talk later?” I ask.

  “Yeah, I’d like that,” she says, still not turning.

  “Okay, until then I guess.”

  “Until then,” she says softly again.

  As I walk up the steep incline and trace through the battlements to climb the stone steps, her words replay in my head, yeah I’d like that. Something is going on with her.

  When I get to the command station, I’m greeted by some kind of heated argument.

  “Recon says there’s a mountain fort seventeen miles up the gorge, high walls, defensible gatehouse, we can make it before sun up if we head out now,” Mwangi says adamantly, “Gate’s like this one are rare, but we know what comes next, more waves.”

  “If we leave now, we risk cutting off line of sight to the Gate,” the Platoon Sergeant from Fourth says, “This isn’t your op Mwangi.”

  He outranks Mwangi, he picked up Sergeant First Class two months ago, and hasn’t let Mwangi forget it.

  “If you don’t want my opinion, don’t ask for it, Sergeant,” Mwangi says, he’s about to say more, but the op commander, 1st Lieutenant Tenny holds up her hand.

  “Specialist Novak I presume?” she asks, eyeing my blood-caked name tape. I’ll have to replace that when we get back.

  Going to attention, “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good, I need you to verify that there was nothing you could do for Sergeant First Class Romero, trying to get paperwork sorted in our downtime,” she explains.

  I give a quick glance to Mwangi, he nods, giving a muted sigh. Paperwork? Inside a gate?

  “There was nothing I could have done for him ma’am, he was already dead when I arrived,” I explain.

  She writes my response in her field notebook, standard issue. Using a standard issue pen. She must really want to get promoted again. I’ve heard she’s by the books, but this is rare. Usually, we do paperwork after we get back, after medical clears us, after we get a chance to have a good meal, maybe even after some solid sleep, but before? This is kind of ridiculous, seeing as I’m going to have to do this again when we clear the Gate.

  “Understood, when we get back, you’ll need to…” her voice trails off, she steps forward towards me, but she’s not looking at me anymore, she’s looking behind me. So is everyone else.

  A flash of light echoes across the skies, lightning. Thunder booms after. My gaze turns to look where they all are looking, every face the same, terrified. A single color burning in the darkness of the horizon. My heart thuds in my chest. Not believing what my eyes see, I pull up the system interface and tag the Gate, opening its information.

  [ Gate Classification: Red – C ]

  [ Threat Level: High ]

  [ Temporal Instability: Extreme ]

  [ Clear Quest: Survive ]

  [ Reward grade: High ]

  Red… a Red Gate.