The air was wrong. Jeremy took a slow breath, but it didn’t help. The dome around them made everything feel stale, like the world itself had stopped breathing. The faint tang of oil and metal clung to the back of his throat, and the dim, bluish light from the sun overhead made the city around them look even colder.

  Above, the dome’s lattice structure stretched high, glinting faintly as it filtered the harsh sunlight. The massive metal-and-glass ceiling trapped everything inside—air, sound, heat. Even though the invasion had started, the streets were eerily calm. It was like stepping into a moment frozen in time.

  Jeremy’s boots scuffed against the cracked pavement as he followed Marcus and Andrew through the narrow streets. Every few feet, they passed signs of a society struggling to stay afloat: buildings patched with mismatched metal sheets, tangled wires strung haphazardly between poles, and broken machinery abandoned in alleys. Yet, there were signs of life too—faint music playing somewhere in the distance, and the occasional murmur of voices from within closed doors.

  “It’s so… weird,” Mia whispered, crouching low as she glanced down a side alley. “It’s like the whole city is alive but asleep.”

  “Eyes forward,” Marcus said, his voice quiet but firm. He had his sword drawn, the tip resting near his leg as he walked. “We don’t know how long it’ll stay this quiet.”

  Jeremy nodded, gripping his spear tighter. He could hear his own heartbeat, fast and uneven, echoing in his ears. This wasn’t like the simulations. There, everything had felt controlled, predictable. Here, every shadow, every corner, felt like it was hiding something.

  After what felt like forever creeping through the labyrinthine streets, the group ducked into a narrow alley and huddled behind a large stack of broken crates. Jeremy adjusted his grip on his spear, the faint tremor in his hands a reminder of how different this was from their training.

  "This doesn’t feel like the simulations," Mia muttered, crouching low beside him. Her bow rested in her lap, but her eyes scanned the dim alley, wary of every shadow.

  "Simulations don’t prepare you for this. They just teach you to keep moving," Andrew said as he glanced up at her, his expression harder than usual. "And that’s exactly what we’ll do."

  "Keep moving, sure," Perci said, spinning one of her daggers idly between her fingers. Her tone carried a hint of sarcasm. "But what happens when that isn’t enough? These streets are alive. People—real people—could come out at any second. How do you prepare to that?"

  Marcus interrupted, his voice calm but firm. "We stick to the plan. We do not think. We act."

  The group fell silent for a moment, the tension settling over them like a heavy fog. Timothy finally broke it with a low grunt, hefting his hammer. "Let’s just move. Sitting here won’t help."

  Jeremy exchanged a glance with Marcus, who gave a curt nod. They rose from their crouch and moved towards the intersection. Jeremy took a moment to adjust his grip on his spear, trying to ignore the sweat trickling down the back of his neck.

  “Sound off,” Marcus said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air.

  “Here,” Mia said, crouching beside him. Her bow was drawn, an arrow nocked but not fully pulled back. “Nothing moving ahead. Just a weird hum from one of those street lamps.”

  “Timothy?” Marcus turned, his gaze sharp.

  The broad-shouldered boy nodded, his hammer resting across his knees. “I’m good. Hammer’s ready.”

  Jeremy shifted uncomfortably. “Do you think anyone saw the teleport light when we arrived?”

  Andrew unrolled a small map on the ground, tracing his finger over the streets they’d passed. “The key intersection Hendrikson mentioned is a few blocks east. If we clear it, it’ll give the reinforcements room to teleport in safely.”

  Mia frowned, glancing toward the mouth of the alley. “I’ll scout ahead. Make sure it’s clear.”

  “No,” Marcus interrupted, his tone firm. “We’re sticking together. We learned what happens when we split up.”

  “But it’s faster,” Perci argued, her fingers idly spinning a dagger in her hand.

  “It’s also more dangerous,” Marcus shot back. “If one of us gets caught or taken down, we’re not strong enough to recover. We stay together, move as one. That’s the only way we get through this.”

  Jeremy felt a flicker of relief at Marcus’s decision. Splitting up always felt like a gamble, and after the last simulation, none of them were eager to repeat past mistakes.

  “Fine,” Perci muttered, tucking her dagger away. “But if we hit resistance, don’t expect me to wait around to clean up your messes.”

  Jeremy glanced at her, then back to Marcus. “So, we head for the intersection?”

  Marcus nodded, pointing at the map. “Yeah. We keep quiet and avoid attention. If we run into anyone…” His voice trailed off, his expression hardening. “We do what we have to.”

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  The group nodded in unison, their expressions grim but determined.

  As they moved out of the alley, they emerged into an open plaza. Jeremy’s breath caught in his throat as the scene unfolded before them. It wasn’t the battlefield he had prepared for, but something else entirely—life. The plaza bustled with activity, a slice of normalcy.

  Rows of glowing stalls lined the square, vendors calling out in their alien language as they displayed shimmering fruits, intricate mechanical trinkets, and bubbling vials of strange liquids. Children with glowing, ash-gray eyes darted around an ornate fountain at the center, their laughter echoing in the enclosed space. Workers in thick, patched uniforms unloaded crates from a hovering platform, their movements casual, their conversations light. For a moment, Jeremy remembered the plaza back at Eldoria.

  Jeremy tightened his grip on his spear. His palms felt slick, and his chest heaved with each shallow breath. These weren’t soldiers. They weren’t armed. They were just… living.

  “They still have no idea we’re here,” Marcus whispered with relief. His sword rested in his hand, but he didn’t move. His sharp eyes scanned the plaza like he was looking for something—anything—that made these people more than they seemed.

  “Good,” Andrew said, his voice colder. He crouched slightly, his gaze locked on the civilians. “We need to keep it that way. No unnecessary attention until we’ve secured the objectives.”

  Jeremy swallowed hard and nodded, but his feet felt like they were made of lead. He watched a Xelarian child laugh as they splashed water from the fountain at their sibling. Their faces were alien, but the joy on their faces was painfully familiar.

  “Jeremy,” Marcus whispered sharply, breaking him from his trance. “Focus. Stay low.”

  Jeremy forced himself to move, following as Marcus led them along the edges of the plaza. They hugged the shadows and stuck close to the walls of the surrounding buildings. Mia gestured toward a narrow side street ahead, silently pointing out a potential path to bypass the plaza. Jeremy’s heart thundered as they crept forward, each step feeling louder than it was.

  But then it happened.

  A Xelarian child by the fountain froze mid-laugh, their glowing eyes locking onto Jeremy. The joy faded from their face, replaced by confusion. They tugged at their parent’s sleeve, pointing toward the humans crouching in the shadows.

  The parent glanced up, their expression shifting from curiosity to unease. They stared at the group for a moment, as if trying to make sense of what they were seeing. Their gaze darted between the children at the fountain and the humans crouching in the shadows. Slowly, their body tensed, and their mouth opened to speak, but it was only a faint, hesitant murmur at first. Then, the murmur grew into a sharp shout, their voice cutting through the chatter of the plaza. Heads turned. The workers on the platform froze. The vendors fell silent

  Jeremy froze, his stomach knotting. His mind raced. This isn’t what I thought it would feel like.

  “Damn it,” Andrew growled, rising from his crouch and gripping his mace. His voice was tight, urgent. “They’ll alert the city. Take them down—now!”

  “No!” Mia whispered, her voice trembling as she drew her bow. Her aim wavered as she locked onto the fleeing parent. “We were so close…”

  Jeremy’s heart pounded as Marcus’s voice cut through the hesitation. “There’s no choice! Do it!”

  Jeremy’s arms moved on instinct, though his chest felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. His spear shot forward, aided by his multple Gloves of Lancing Reach, allowing him to reach across the plaza and pierce the chest of a vendor who had begun to run. The Xelarian’s glowing blood sprayed across the ground as they crumpled, the light in their eyes dimming. Jeremy wrenched his weapon free, nausea rising in his throat. He avoided looking at the face of the next target.

  Perci darted through the crowd, her movements a blur. Her daggers flashed, silencing one Xelarian after another before they could even scream. Her face was expressionless, but Jeremy could see the tension in the set of her jaw, the rigidity in her movements.

  Marcus waded into the chaos with grim determination, his sword cutting through those who tried to flee toward the open streets. Each strike was calculated, merciless. “Don’t let them escape!” he shouted, his voice rising over the chaos.

  Jeremy spotted a Xelarian worker scrambling onto the transport platform. The worker reached for a glowing console, their fingers moving frantically over the controls. “No!” Jeremy shouted, but it was Timothy who acted first. The boy’s hammer came down with a thunderous crash, shattering the console and sending the worker sprawling. Timothy swung again, silencing them for good.

  The screams of the civilians faded quickly, replaced by eerie silence.

  Jeremy stood amidst the bodies, his spear heavy in his hands. Glowing pools of bioluminescent blood seeped across the ground, pooling around the fountain’s base. Nothing in the simulations had felt this… real. In their training, every encounter was clean, calculated. Encounters happened because Hendrikson wanted it to happen, not because a child grew too curious.

  Jeremy’s chest heaved as he tried to steady his breathing, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. This wasn’t what they had prepared for. This wasn’t what any of them had imagined war would feel like.

  There wasn’t even Essence—no surge of energy to mark their kills. Only the warrior caste of the Xelarians were given Essence, a fact that made this fight even more meaningless.

  Mia lowered her bow, her face pale.

  Andrew wiped his mace on a fallen Xelarian’s cloak, his expression hard. “No one will sound the alarm now.”

  Jeremy’s eyes darted to the fountain. The child who had spotted them lay crumpled beside their parent. He clenched his jaw, his stomach twisting painfully.

  “We need to move quicker,” Marcus said, his voice tight. He gestured toward the side street Mia had pointed out earlier. “We don’t have much time until someone else sees this.”

  Jeremy nodded mechanically, following the others as they slipped back into the shadows.

  He risked a final glance back at the plaza. The stalls were smeared with blood, the fountain now a grotesque centerpiece of the massacre. The alien laughter, the murmur of life—it had all been silenced, as if wiped from existence.

  Somewhere in the depths of his mind, the faint echo of the child’s laugh lingered, piercing through the haze of nausea. It was a sound he knew would haunt him.

  War wasn’t supposed to feel like this. It was supposed to be about protecting humanity. It wasn’t supposed to feel wrong.

  “Jeremy.” Marcus’s sharp whisper jolted him back to reality. “Stay with us. We still have a mission.”

  Jeremy gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus. But even as he moved forward, the memory of the plaza clung to him like a shadow, refusing to let go.