The public transport skimmer hissed to a stop near the sprawling, modern complex that served as the Crimson Star Guild headquarters.
Rackell led her small team – Dodo, Maya, and Nala – out onto the crowded plaza.
The place buzzed with tense energy. Dozens, perhaps hundreds, of other Harmonics milled about with gear ranging from worn, low-grade equipment like Rackell's team wore, to slightly better, but still clearly not top-tier, kits. These were the other Provisional Harvester guilds, summoned just like them.
Whispers drifted through the throng.
"…heard Havenwood got completely overrun. Barely anyone made it out…"
"…just evac support. Crimson Star handles the real fighting…"
"…still Sector Gamma. Unus swarms don't care if you're support or front line…"
"…Elizabeth Pellesh is leading. She wouldn't risk us unnecessarily, right?"
Mixed feelings permeated the crowd – fear, grim determination, a reluctant sense of duty, and for some, like Rackell, a spark of genuine excitement.
"Alright team, stick close," Rackell instructed. "Main assembly area is up ahead. Can you believe it? Working directly under Crimson Star!" She practically vibrated with anticipation.
They navigated through the crowd towards a large, open-air amphitheater where hundreds had already gathered before a raised platform. Standing prominently on that platform were the core members of Crimson Star, instantly recognizable by their immaculate crimson-trimmed gear and aura of quiet competence. At the forefront stood Elizabeth Pellesh, radiating calm authority, and beside her, Duvalo Brando, looking polished and confident.
Elizabeth surveyed the assembled guilds silently. It was Duvalo who acted as her mouthpiece. He stepped forward to address the crowd. He projected a boisterous air of effortless command.
"Alright, listen up, Harvesters! As you know, Sector Gamma is experiencing multiple, coordinated Unus breaches originating from the Scar Zone. Several settlements are compromised, communications are sporadic, and civilian casualties are mounting."
He gestured towards a large holographic map displaying the affected region; red icons glowed ominously.
"Our primary objective is rapid civilian evacuation from the designated Safe Zones within these compromised settlements. Major units are already engaging the main Unus swarms to create extraction windows, but breakaway packs are roaming unpredictably. You will encounter hostile Unus during these evacuations. Expect Category 1 and 2 threats – Skitterlings, Strikers, maybe some Lurkers. Stay vigilant."
Duvalo paused and scanned the faces below.
"Crimson Star will take the lead, providing heavy support and coordinating extraction points. Your role is crucial: get the civilians out quickly and safely. Follow the assigned waypoints, listen to Crimson Star coordinators, protect your evacuees, and protect yourselves. Do not engage Unus unnecessarily, but do not hesitate to defend yourselves and the civilians under your care."
He finished with a final, stern warning. "This is not a training exercise. Complacency will get you killed. We move out immediately via Ackuline 360s to maximize speed. Gear up, board your assigned transports now! Departure in five minutes!"
A surge of activity swept through the crowd. Guilds scrambled towards the designated boarding areas where several large, sleek Ackuline 360 aerial transports waited.
Rackell urged her team forward. "Come on! Let's get a good spot on the lead transport!"
As they pushed through the throng, Nala glanced back instinctively. "It feels strange… Wes not being here."
"He'd just slow us down, Nala," Dodo grunted, shoving past a slower group. "Kid's dead weight now more than ever."
They managed to board one of the lead Ackuline 360s, and found seats in the spacious main cabin designed to hold over fifty personnel plus cargo. The atmosphere inside was a mix of nervous chatter and focused preparation as Harmonics checked their gear one last time.
Through the transport's viewports, they could see news crews on the ground filming the rapid mobilization. Reporters were speaking gravely into microphones about the escalating crisis.
The Ackuline 360s began to lift off, powerful engines whining as they ascended rapidly into the sky, banking towards the troubled Sector Gamma.
…
Miles away, back in the quiet lodge room, Wes watched the same news report unfold on the cheap viewscreen. He saw the Crimson Star transports lifting off, saw the hopeful faces of onlookers on the ground. He caught a brief glimpse of Elizabeth Pellesh standing near the boarding ramp, offering a small, reassuring wave to the cameras – the image of a competent, inspiring leader.
"That should have been me."
Jealousy, hot and familiar, seethed within him. Her, always her, basking in the spotlight while he rotted away here.
Phew.
A sudden, pungent odor assaulted his nostrils, interrupting his bitter thoughts. He looked down. Leo, cradled on his lap, had a strained expression on his face. The source of the smell was undeniable.
"Oh, you gotta be kidding me," Wes groaned. Leo had soiled himself.
With a grimace, Wes carefully lifted the baby and hurried towards the bathroom. He rummaged frantically through the diaper bag Latoya had left, pulling out wipes and powder. He found the diapers. There was only one left.
"Just great."
He wrinkled his nose against the smell as he prepared to tackle his first, unglamorous parental duty. The life of a Harmonic seemed worlds away.
…
The small bathroom felt even smaller filled with the lingering odor and Wes's frustrated grunts. He looked utterly ridiculous: a cheap plastic clothespin clamped firmly on his nose, a floral-patterned apron filched from the kitchen tied haphazardly over his dirty clothes. Leo lay on a towel spread across the closed toilet lid, gurgling happily, oblivious to his father's struggle.
"Alright, alright, hold still."
Wes grimaced as he wiped away the mess with unsteady hands. This was leagues worse than dealing with Unus slime. He fumbled with the clean diaper – the last clean diaper – struggling with the adhesive tabs. Finally, after several clumsy attempts, the new diaper was secured.
He carefully lifted Leo, holding him at arm's length. "Okay, kid," Wes said sternly before removing the clothespin from his nose. "No more surprise attacks, understand? Next time, give me some warning – a grunt, a wiggle, something! – so we can handle this properly."
Leo responded by kicking his chubby legs delightedly and letting out a series of happy coos, flashing a gummy smile.
Wes sighed, but a tiny, unfamiliar warmth flickered somewhere deep inside him at the sight. As Leo kicked again, Wes's gaze snagged on the sole of the infant's right foot.
He blinked, leaning closer.
Was that… No, it couldn't be.
But there it was, unmistakable, though incredibly faint – delicate, barely visible lines tracing a nascent pattern just beneath the soft skin. A Resonance Socket. Already manifested.
How was that possible?
Most Sockets didn't appear until childhood, sometimes even adolescence. Then it hit him. He had been born with his. A rare genetic anomaly, the instructors had called it. A sign of innate potential.
"Well, I'll be damned."
Wes stared at the faint marking on Leo's foot. The lingering doubt, the suspicion that Latoya might have lied despite the DNA test, evaporated completely. This faint, impossible marking was proof enough. He was his son. Blessed, or perhaps cursed, with the same potential that had once defined Wes himself.
A fierce, unexpected wave of protectiveness coursed through him, quickly followed by a grim determination. He remembered his own fall from grace, the promise squandered, the humiliation endured. He wouldn't let that happen to Leo. This child, this unexpected burden, was also an unexpected opportunity. A chance for redemption. A vessel to carry the Callahan name – his Callahan name – back to prominence.
He looked down at Leo, whose happy gurgles had subsided into curious blinking. "Alright, Leo. You and me. We're going to do this right. No arrogance, no mistakes like mine. I'll train you, nurture that potential. You're going to become the most powerful Harmonic this world has ever seen. You'll restore the dignity they stripped from me. You'll show them all."
He held his son closer, the weight felt different now – not just a burden, but a responsibility imbued with fierce, newfound purpose. The path ahead was still dark and uncertain, but for the first time since Latoya stormed into his life, Wes saw a flicker of a possible future, one forged not just in resentment, but in resolve.