We need to discusse

Clue and Flame watched with wide-eyed wonder as Henry continued telling the story. Sharpshot lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling, while Slick leaned against the edge, occasionally jumping in to fill in small details Henry had missed.

Eventually, the story reached its end, and Clue and Flame immediately burst into a flurry of questions.

“What happened after that?”

“How did SF and Fallow make it back?”

“What happened to Halfy?”

“What about Tace and Fascia? And who even is Mimic?”

“Did Tempes ever return?”

“Whoa, calm down, you two,” Havoc said, holding up his hands. “I don’t have all the answers. As for Fallow and SF… you can try asking them, but I wouldn’t expect much.”

“Well, Tace is still with the Wrath Watch, as far as I know,” Slick added. Clue and Flame immediately turned toward him.

“And Mimic?” Clue asked.

“Mimic leads her own Fallo unit. They’re brutal, skilled, and—well, also kind of her playthings.”

“Wait—one person can have control over an entire Fallo unit?” Flame asked, surprised.

Henry chimed in. “Well, yeah. Mimic’s part of Unit One, and every member of Unit One gets their own personal Fallo unit. Even SF had one back when he was part of Unit One.”

“Wait, SF was in Unit One?” Clue’s eyes widened.

“Yeah, in the past—” Henry started, but he was cut off.

The door suddenly opened.

A pair of Overseers entered, followed by a lab coat. They paused, momentarily surprised to see Unit Two gathered with a Fallo unit.

“Well, this is…” The man in the lab coat looked around the room. “Actually, this probably works out perfectly.”

He tucked a stack of papers under his arm and continued.

“Fallo Unit 51—after suffering severe losses in recent missions, you’ll now receive reinforcements composed of survivors from Eternal Squad.”

SF set his soda down and stood as Fallow rose to her feet and approached. He followed close behind.

“What happened to Eternal Squad?” SF asked.

“A mission ended in heavy bloodshed,” the lab coat replied. “Aeternus himself has requested to work alone from now on, so he asked us to reassign his Fallo members to units in need of reinforcement.”

He nodded to the Overseers, who stepped aside to clear the doorway.

Five new Fallo members entered, all wearing body armor. One wore a full helmet, another had long blonde hair. One had a robotic arm—a rare sight in a Fallo unit. There was a teenaged boy with fluffy brown hair and, surprisingly, an older man who looked like he’d seen far too much.

They lined up with hands behind their backs as the Overseers gave instructions.

“Meet Captain Wo.” The young man stood straighter at the name.

“Ruth.” The girl in the helmet gave a sharp nod.

“Less.” The man with the robotic arm lifted his chin slightly.

“Corp.” The old man stood silently, his face tired and distant, as if life had left him.

“And finally, See.” The blonde girl seemed bored, barely reacting.

“We hope you’ll all get along, and fight together until your end” the lab coat said flatly, before he and the Overseers turned and left.

SF returned to his seat, while Fallow and the others stepped forward to greet the new arrivals.

“Hey, I’m Slick,” Slick said, extending a hand. “I’ll be your co-captain here.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Wo replied, shaking it firmly.

After a while, the introductions faded into casual conversation and friendly chatter.

Fallow returned to her place beside SF. She sat down quietly.

“So… new members,” she said, forcing a small, sad smile. “Great.” Sf noticed but before he could say anything two new overseers stepped into the room.

“Marshal S2-SF, we are here to collect you and escort you to Dr. Carol.”

Two Overseers stood on either side of the doorway, their expressions unreadable as they waited for SF to comply.

SF remained seated beside Fallow, still sipping his soda as if he hadn’t heard them. Fallow raised an eyebrow, watching him ignore the direct order. Eventually, SF exhaled through his nose, setting the half-empty can down before pushing himself to his feet.

“See you next time you’ve got free time, I hope.” Fallow’s voice was casual, though there was a hint of something else beneath it.

SF didn’t respond. Instead, he turned toward the door and stepped past the Overseers. Before leaving, he glanced back at them.

“Unit Two escorted me here. I’ll need you two to escort them back to their quarters.”

The Overseers exchanged glances before nodding in unison. “Yes, sir.”

SF walked in silence, not toward Carol’s office, but to her lab. The corridors were long and sterile, the endless white walls giving little relief from the monotony. A faint hint of chlorine clung to the air, leaking from some of the closed rooms he passed.

As he neared Carol’s lab, he saw two more Overseers walking out—one clutching their side, the other limping slightly. Injured. SF slowed his pace for a moment, watching as they made their way toward the med bay. Whatever happened in there, it don’t look pleasant.

Pushing open the door, SF stepped inside. The lab was almost entirely dark, save for a single pool of light illuminating Carol’s desk.

“Ah, SF, I’ve been waiting.”

Carol didn’t look up from the papers in her hands, but SF could sense the subtle amusement in her voice. His eyes scanned the dimly lit room before he responded.

“Apologies for the delay. I was occupied.”

Carol finally lifted her gaze, studying him.

“Mhm.”

A brief pause. Then—

“Take off your shirt.”

SF’s body tensed slightly, his eyes widening at the unexpected request. But he didn’t protest. Without a word, he pulled off his ragged shirt and tossed it aside, exposing his scarred upper body. His left arm bore the countless puncture marks left by the serum injectors, while old wounds crisscrossed his torso, each telling a story of past battles.

Carol approached him, her gaze tracing the scars. With a delicate touch, she ran a single finger along a deep, jagged mark stretching from his waist up to his right pectoral—where the Kill Dose rested, embedded in his flesh, right over his heart.

Unlike most people, SF’s heart was on the right side instead of the left.

Carol’s fingers tapped the metal cylinder protruding slightly from his chest. For a moment, she simply stared into his eyes, then reached out and twisted the device—not in the usual direction that would activate it, but the opposite. A small click echoed in the room. She then placed her thumb against a biometric scanner, unlocking the mechanism.

With a slow, precise movement, she slid the Kill Dose out from its metal chamber. The device extended at least five centimeters from SF’s chest before it was fully removed.

SF let out a slow breath, barely realizing he had been holding it. The relief was immediate. But Carol didn’t linger—she simply turned and walked back to her desk, examining the device with a focused expression.

“We need to discuss your rank as Marshal.”

SF glanced up. “Why?”

Carol placed the Kill Dose on her desk and turned toward him, pacing slowly.