Gate 7

Lucas and his squad halted just outside Gate 7, their backs stiff and breaths hushed. They were accustomed to the orderly silence of training or the comforting hum of maintenance bays, but here, the sounds were different—heavy, frantic, tinged with panic and grief. Metal trolleys clanged, and the murmur of tense voices broke through their usual routine like a jagged edge.

Lieutenant Caron pushed the door open, her face uncharacteristically hard. "Stand to the side," she instructed, her tone leaving no room for questions. The squad pressed against the wall, and Lucas caught a brief, resolute glance from Matthieu, whose pale face betrayed his concern. Caron had led them here for a reason, and the urgency in her voice hinted that this was no ordinary training exercise.

The atmosphere beyond the doorway pulsed with chaos. Medical crews hovered around stretchers, each carrying soldiers clad in scorched and dented armor. The smell hit them next—a thick, metallic tang mixed with the acrid scent of scorched flesh. Lucas swallowed hard, fighting the instinct to recoil. This was no simulation; these were their fellow soldiers, returning from a real battle.

A team of medics brought in another stretcher, its occupant convulsing in ragged spasms. Blood pooled around their left arm, or what was left of it—a mangled mess of burnt tissue, barely hanging onto the shoulder by frayed tendons. A medic pressed a compression bandage over the wound, but blood seeped through, staining their gloves a visceral red. One of the new recruits, Theo, gagged beside Lucas, quickly covering his mouth. Lucas forced himself to stay steady, his training kicking in despite the grisly scene. Caron had brought them here to witness the true cost of their chosen path.

The medics worked frenetically, muttering terse commands, their hands moving with practiced efficiency. But their faces betrayed the truth: dread, exhaustion, and a weariness that came from too many close calls. Lucas watched as one of them wiped blood-smeared sweat from her brow before quickly resuming work on another stretcher, where a soldier lay motionless, his eyes open but staring blankly past her. This was the reality they would soon face, a harsh reminder of the sacrifices required in battle.

Lucas felt a hand tighten on his arm. He turned to see Celine, her eyes wide and lips trembling as she tried to speak. "They... they look..." Her voice faltered, as if afraid of acknowledging the state of the returning soldiers. Her usual calm had been replaced by a horror that mirrored Lucas's own. Caron had brought them here to confront the grim truth, to show them the price of failure and the true weight of the responsibility they were about to shoulder.

One of the stretchers caught Lucas's attention—a soldier whose face was barely visible through a shattered helmet visor. The exposed skin was marred with deep, jagged scars, and his uniform was shredded, revealing bruised and torn flesh beneath. His breathing was shallow and rasping as a medic desperately tried to stabilize him. His eyes rolled, unfocused, and then locked onto Lucas. The soldier's cracked lips parted, forming words without sound. Lucas couldn't look away, rooted to the spot as the man's gaze bored into him—a silent scream, raw and unfiltered, carrying a thousand warnings he couldn't ignore. This was the face of war, the reality they would soon confront.

The medics pushed the stretcher past, but that haunted look lingered, searing itself into Lucas's mind. He felt a chill settle deep in his bones, one that no amount of training or camaraderie could dispel. Caron had brought them here to prepare them, to show them the true cost of failure and the weight of the responsibility they were about to undertake.

Caron turned to the squad, her face solemn, as the final stretcher vanished down the hall. "This is what awaits you beyond these walls," she said, breaking the tense silence. "The fights are merciless, and the enemy is vicious. However, you might just return if you stick together and have faith in one another and your training.

She stopped and looked into each of their eyes. "Don't let us down."

Lucas experienced a rush of adrenaline mixed with a profound feeling of fear. Nothing could have prepared him for the terrible reality they had just witnessed, even though they had been conditioned and trained to perform well.