Quenin Tran

As dawn breaks, the Earth humans pull back, revealing the damage. Bodies. So many bodies. They coat the ground like a carpet in places, completely covering the ground. The Zhahuran force limps back into the city. So little is left. More than half of our force has been wiped out, and we made nothing more than a dent in Earth's forces.

I walk alone back to the city. My shoulders are hunched in exhaustion. My skin and clothes are covered in red and blue blood and my jacket hangs in tatters around my shoulders. My feet squish through the bloody mud, halfheartedly kicking away Eath human bodies that obscure my path. Fires burn across the field that has become a warzone. The ground is littered with almost as many discarded weapons as it is bodies. My shoulder burns like fire, pain spreading from the entry wound down my back, arm, and across my shoulder blades.

I reach the center of the city, my legs barely holding me up. Blood leaks from the cuts on my ribs, arms, face, and legs. I see Kaedin and try to shout at him, to call him over. He sees me and runs to me, heaving one of my arms over his shoulder and helping me walk. Blood is soaking through his shirt on his chest and stomach, but he looks better than I can assume I do. My vision is going blurry and my legs give out.

"I've got you," Kaedin says, but I barely hear him. He picks me up completely and carries me to a healer. I am being laid on a cot when I pass out.