Cohen's eyes locked onto the chaotic battlefield where Lyra fought for her life. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the controls of his mecha, his voice breaking through the comms.
"I'm going after her! She needs backup!"
"Stand down, Captain!" Chuck's stern command cut through the static like a whip. "That's an order. She either survives this on her own or we retreat. You rushing in won't change anything—except maybe your survival rate."
Chuck's logic was cold but sound. Lyra had been brought here to confront the Stellar Devourer, and the team couldn't risk everything for one person—not even her.
Cohen's breath hitched, guilt twisting his insides. "But…"
"No 'but,' soldier!" Chuck snapped. "Focus on the fight in front of you, or you won't live long enough to regret it!"
The words landed like a slap, but they were just enough to snap Cohen out of his desperation. His radar pinged—a hostile closing in fast from his six.
