The blood-red glow of the moon faded as dawn broke over the Citadel, washing the battered stronghold in pale light. The relentless hum from the Spire, once deafening, had quieted to a faint drone.
Without the red moon to guide them, many Reclaimers retreated, clawing back into the earth's cracks like they were being summoned home. Others, disoriented and stripped of the coordinated menace the moon granted them, lingered outside the walls, stumbling and lashing out at random.
The south wall bore the brunt of the assault. Blood and scorched Reclaimer remains painted the ground, a grim testament to the night's violence.
Automated turrets were charred and smoking, several destroyed entirely. The outer wall had deep gouges, claw marks from the Brutes and Monarchs that had tried to scale it.
A single turret, barely functional, twitched aimlessly, its barrel sparking as it tried to recalibrate.
J stood among the bodies of fallen Vanguard soldiers, her blade resting at her side, stained with dark Reclaimer ichor. Kane crouched beside a wounded soldier, helping medics load him onto a stretcher.
"We held," J muttered, her voice hoarse but steady.
"But it cost us."
At the east wall, Vanguard soldiers cheered, albeit weakly. The defenses there had held firm, thanks to the snipers and heavy artillery. Soldiers sat slumped against the barricades, wiping sweat and grime from their faces. One soldier patted a turret affectionately.
"Damn thing saved my life," he murmured.
The north wall showed minimal damage, its defenders standing tall. The snipers exchanged nods of approval, their precision preventing any breaches. A group of soldiers gathered to reinforce the wall with temporary barricades.
The west wall was littered with the charred remains of Reclaimers, the air thick with the stench of burned flesh. The flamethrower units worked tirelessly to clear the ground, the heat from their weapons still radiating in the cool morning air.
"We'll need more fuel for the next one," one soldier commented grimly.
Commander Voss's voice crackled over the loudspeakers.
"All sectors, stand down. Survivors may exit the bunkers and return to their living quarters. We're safe—for now."
Cheers erupted across the Citadel. Families poured out of the underground shelters, hugging one another tightly. Children clung to their parents, some still trembling from the night's terror. People smiled through tears, their relief palpable.
In the command center, Voss leaned back in her chair, her face hard but relieved. She watched the monitors as Vanguard drones patrolled the area, ensuring no stragglers remained.
"Good work, all of you," she said to her team.
"We survived another red moon. Let's make sure we're ready for the next."
From their vantage point near the south wall, Ash and Lilith had seen everything—the chaos, the bloodshed, and the unyielding resolve of the Vanguard.
Lilith clenched her fists.
"They fought like hell," she said, her voice steady but fierce.
"They didn't stop, no matter how bad it got."
Ash nodded, his gaze fixed on the battlefield.
"But some of them still died. They weren't invincible."
Lilith turned to him, her expression determined.
"No, they weren't. But they fought. That's the difference. They didn't run. If we want to survive, Ash, we have to do the same."
Ash swallowed hard, the weight of her words sinking in.
"I don't want to run anymore."
Later that day, J found the siblings near the Citadel's inner walls. They approached her hesitantly.
"J," Lilith started, her voice firm,
"we want to join the Vanguard."
J raised an eyebrow, her expression skeptical.
"You're serious?"
Ash nodded.
"We saw what you did. What everyone did. We want to learn how to fight back."
J studied them for a moment before smirking.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that. Come on. I'll show you the school."
She led them to a building near the heart of the Citadel. The Vanguard School was an imposing structure, its walls lined with banners bearing the Vanguard insignia. Inside, classrooms were filled with recruits, their faces serious as instructors lectured on Reclaimer biology, tactics, and survival skills.
"This is where it starts," J explained.
"The theory part takes about a year and a half. After that, you move on to combat training. That's another two years."
Lilith frowned thoughtfully.
"I already know a lot about the Reclaimers. I want to help in other ways."
J nodded.
"Then the research team might be your place. They're always looking for sharp minds to design weapons and tech."
Lilith's eyes lit up. "That's what I'll do."
Ash, however, was resolute.
"I'll do the full training. I want to be out there, fighting."
J placed a hand on his shoulder.
"It's not easy. You'll see things you can't unsee. But if you're serious, you'll make it."
As they walked away, Ash and Lilith shared a determined look. They had survived the red moon, but they knew survival wasn't enough. The red moon would come again, and next time, they would be ready.
"Oh, since you're new here, you'll need a place to stay," J said, glancing at Ash and Lilith.
The two siblings exchanged a look, their eyes wide with awe. A place to stay? They had spent most of their lives in crumbling ruins or hiding in abandoned shelters, never daring to think of something as stable or permanent as a home.
J, noticing their hesitation, smiled warmly.
"Come on, let's find something for you."
J led them through the Citadel's residential district, a maze of interconnected buildings with clean, metal-plated walls and reinforced windows. The corridors were lit with soft, bluish lights, and the faint hum of machinery filled the air.
The living quarters were designed for efficiency, each apartment built to house survivors and Vanguard personnel alike.
J stopped in front of a door with a digital keypad. She tapped a few buttons, and the door slid open with a quiet hiss.
"This one's free. It's small, but it'll do."
The siblings peered inside cautiously.
The apartment was modest but clean and functional. The walls were a pale gray, with a smooth metallic finish. It had two small bedrooms, barely large enough to fit a narrow bed and a simple wardrobe each.
A compact kitchen sat off to one side, equipped with basic cooking tools and a sleek, modern stove. The bathroom was spotless, with gleaming white tiles and a sink that actually worked—a luxury neither of them had seen in years.
Lilith stepped inside first, running her fingers over the counter in the kitchen.
"It's… nice," she said softly, her voice tinged with disbelief.
Ash followed, his eyes darting around the space. He hesitated by the doorway, almost afraid to step fully inside.
"This is ours?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
J chuckled. "Yes, it's yours. Make yourselves at home."
Lilith opened the small fridge and gasped. It was stocked with simple rations—packets of preserved food, fresh vegetables, and a loaf of bread. She grabbed a packet and held it up to Ash.
"Look, real food. Do you even remember what this looks like?"
Ash shook his head, staring at the bread like it was a treasure.
"Not really," he admitted.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten anything fresh. Most of their meals had been scavenged scraps or tasteless survival bars.
Lilith gave him a reassuring smile.
"Well, you'll learn."
That night, Ash and Lilith explored their new home. Ash claimed one of the tiny bedrooms, where he found a bed with clean sheets and a pillow.
He ran his hand over the fabric, marveling at how soft it felt.
Lilith took the other room, and though it was just as small, it felt like a palace compared to the places they had slept before.