A child's giggle echoed through a sea of sunflowers, their yellow heads swaying gently with the breeze. Her small hand brushed against the soft petals as she ran, carefree and full of life.

But then the sky turned crimson.

The giggle twisted into a scream—a piercing, heart-wrenching cry.

"Daddy, don't leave me!"

The little girl's voice cracked with terror, her desperate plea cutting through the air.

"Daddy!"

Thaurex jolted awake, gasping for breath. Sweat clung to his skin as the remnants of the nightmare haunted him. He sat up slowly, the blanket falling to his waist, his heart pounding like a war drum. Blinking the exhaustion from his eyes, he looked around the dim room, trying to ground himself in reality.

With a deep breath, he slid out of bed and made his way to the window. Rain streaked down the glass, but through the foggy pane, he could almost see it—the garden from his dream, frozen in his mind's eye.

He shook the thought away and walked to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. As the droplets trickled down, he stared into the mirror, nodding slightly to himself as if reaffirming his existence.

In the corner of the room, a miniature garden rested in a glass box, the only life he kept close. He tilted a watering can, releasing a thin stream of water over the tiny plants with delicate care.

With a cigarette tucked between his lips, he poured himself a cup of coffee and approached the large screen embedded in the wall. "Reveal screen," he muttered. The glass shifted, revealing the image of a distant blue planet, hauntingly similar to Earth.

"Prepare pod," he instructed.

The rain poured heavily over the launch pad, hammering the metal structure under the darkened sky. Thaurex's landing pod descended slowly, the hiss of hydraulics breaking through the downpour.

The hatch opened, and Thaurex stepped out, the rain soaking his clothes almost instantly.

"Sergeant Thaurex, sir!" a voice called over the noise.

Thaurex turned to see the launch pad director standing at attention.

"I'm not a sergeant anymore. No need to call me that," Thaurex replied, exhaling smoke through the corner of his mouth.

"To me, you always will be," the director said, a faint smile tugging at the edges of his mouth.

Thaurex stared at the man for a moment, confusion flickering across his face, but said nothing. Instead, he gave the man a light pat on the shoulder, lit another cigarette, and walked away.

Climbing into a sleek, hovering vehicle, Thaurex zoomed off into the rainy night. He was barely a few miles out when his communication device chimed, startling him. The face of the military general flickered on the display.

"What do you want?" Thaurex muttered, already irritated.

The general sighed heavily, as if bracing himself. "I didn't want to reach out like this, Thaurex..."

"Then don't."

"It's not that simple," the general continued. "A mission came up. We need you and your squad again."

Thaurex chuckled darkly, but the laughter quickly spiraled into something almost manic.

"Look, I know you retired—"

"Then leave me retired." Thaurex cut him off.

The general hesitated for a moment before dropping the real bombshell. "It wasn't me who requested you. Your team did."

Thaurex's grin vanished, and the line went silent except for the hum of the rain outside.