Chapter 83: I wish I wasn’t.
Flashback — West Grevil City, Jehan Mullins’s Base
The building was a crumbling fortress, riddled with bullet holes and stained with chaos. Gunfire cracked like thunder across the narrow concrete corridors. Dust and plaster rained from the ceiling as grenades exploded outside.
"Dion! Dion, you alright?" Miles, known only to the mercenaries as Ghost, called out as he ducked behind a steel beam, rounds ricocheting near his head.
Dion flinched, a sharp ringing in his ears. "I’m okay! Just grazed the wall near my head."
Without wasting a second, Dion leaned out from cover and returned fire—controlled, sharp bursts from his compact rifle—taking down two enemies advancing from the opposite hallway.
"Coms, update!" Ghost snapped through his earpiece.
Crackle."Comrade injured at the east gate. Exit is open."
Dion’s eyes narrowed. "I’m going. You hold this side. I’ll get to the evac point and assist."
"Watch your corners. Don’t be a hero." Ghost called out, jamming a fresh mag into his rifle.
"Right back at you." Dion smirked and sprinted off, hugging the walls as more shots echoed behind them.
Miles exhaled slowly, checking his last magazine. Just twelve rounds left. He whispered to himself, "That’ll have to do."
Suddenly, comms sparked again.