1st Person POV (Commander)
"My idea," I began, "is to summon three troops from Option A, and four from Option B. As for summoning forces from previous war eras—it's an intriguing choice, but not something I'd consider for now. At least not until our active force reaches a hundred. When the time comes, we'll do it gradually, training them in batches."
I glanced toward Alpha as I continued, "And regarding your suggestion—we'll hold off for now. If we manage to gather enough points in the first two weeks without heavy spending, I'll consider summoning a few elite units."
Alpha gave a short nod of understanding. I turned my eyes across the rest of the squad and asked, "Any objections? Or alternatives you'd like to put forward?"
Responses came quickly, some verbal, some just subtle gestures—"Negative, sir." "No, sir." A few headshakes. Finally, Alpha closed the round with a clear: "No opposition, sir. We'll proceed with your plan."
I gave a slight smile, a closed-mouth expression that barely touched my lips, but they noticed.
"Good," I said simply. "We'll begin the summonings tomorrow."
I let that settle a moment before moving on. "Now—about the third point. Night watch rotations. The pair was the same as this morning: Foxtrot with Echo, Delta with Charlie, and Bravo, Alpha, and me."
I noticed it right away—some of them had a flicker in their eyes. They had something to say, but they were holding it back, waiting for me to finish. And from the way they reacted to my name being included, it wasn't hard to guess what was coming.
"So—who wants to take the first watch?"
And sure enough, Alpha spoke up first.
"Sir, you don't have to stand watch," he said plainly. "You're not like us. Tonight, you clearly handled more infected than anyone—and you did it with cold weapons. Your exertion was far higher than ours."
Delta followed immediately, his tone equally firm. "Forgive me, sir—but to add to that, you're the head of this operation. The one making the final calls. We can't risk compromising your condition due to lack of rest."
I raised a hand slightly, a quiet gesture to halt the argument before it built any further.
"Thank you, Alpha. Delta. I appreciate the concern," I said, tone even. "But I have my reasons. I'm not tired. Not even a little. And there's something I need to do while I'm on watch."
Alpha's brow furrowed. "What is it, sir?"
"I need to prepare some notes," I said. "A basic language guide for all of you. None of you speak the local tongue, but even a few key phrases could make a difference out there—especially given the situation we're in. Tomorrow, I'll teach you some of the essentials."
I paused and motioned toward the rest of the squad with a small nod.
"And aside from the two of you, no one else has voiced any concerns."
I tilted my head toward Foxtrot. "Foxtrot?"
He paused for a moment, then gave a calm response. "If the commander is willing, then I have no issue."
I nodded once, then looked at Bravo.
"Same as Foxtrot, sir," he said.
Charlie followed. "While I do share their concerns... as long as you don't overexert yourself, I'll respect your decision."
Finally, Echo spoke. "I can only respect your choice, sir," he said with a slight smirk, gesturing loosely at Alpha and Delta as if to say, 'Sorry brothers, I can't help much regarding this issue.'
3rd Person POV
Seeing the rest of the squad concede, Alpha and Delta exchanged a brief glance. It was clear they still didn't fully agree, but they also knew when to yield. Their commander had made his decision—and after everything they had seen, they trusted him enough to follow it.
With quiet acceptance, they nodded. The matter was settled.
The old wall clock hanging near the living room ticked steadily toward midnight. Its long hand pointed upward, both hands now resting at twelve. After a brief round of discussion, the squad finalized the night watch schedule—strictly for this night. The shifts would begin at 01:00 AM and end at 07:00 AM, each pair taking turns for two hours.
Foxtrot and Echo would take the first shift. Then Alpha, Bravo, and the Commander would follow. The final shift would fall to Charlie and Delta.
The reason for this delayed start was simple: the Commander had ordered everyone to wash up first. After everything that had happened today—the blood, the sweat, the tension—they needed it. Until more clothing could be scavenged from nearby homes, he even lent some of his own. Tomorrow night, the schedule would shift to a more standard rotation, but tonight was about resetting—body and mind—before the next step of their operations.
✦✦✦
Once cleaned up and changed, the squad settled into a quieter rhythm. Though dressed in civilian wear provided by the Commander, most still chose to wear part of their gear—vests, belts, sidearms. Just in case.
Outside, Foxtrot and Echo had already taken up their posts. One was stationed on the second-floor balcony, scanning the streets. The other stood silently on the front terrace, eyes sharp beneath the porch light's dying flicker.
Inside, the rest of the team sprawled across the living room. Pillows and thin mattresses had been arranged on the carpeted floor. Though no one spoke much, the atmosphere was no longer tense—just heavy with fatigue.
Alpha sat quietly on the stairs, watching his team in thoughtful silence. His gaze shifted as the Commander emerged—fresh from a shower taken in one of the previously locked bedrooms that had its own private bathroom, different from the rest of the squad who were using the shared one in the back. Without a word, he walked past them, not toward the makeshift sleeping area or the other locked bedroom, but down the hallway, heading toward the back of the house.
Alpha stood, instinctively, perhaps out of habit or concern. But before he could fully rise, the Commander turned around, as if he'd been expecting it.
"This is my room," he said, pointing at the closed door at the end of the hallway. Then, gesturing to the two other locked rooms, he added, "Those belonged to my parents and siblings. Leave them as they are."
A pause.
"You should get some rest, Alpha. But don't forget—wake me at 02:50. Just knock. I'll hear it."
Alpha blinked once, then nodded. He turned without a word and returned to sit near the others. Behind him, the Commander stepped into his room and locked the door with a soft click.
1st POV (Commander)
Only once I closed the door behind me did I realize—I'd forgotten to clean this place.
The others had tidied most of the house earlier while I was busy, but my room… I had only stepped in briefly, just to store my sword before dinner. I glanced around. It was a mess. Some of the dust had settled deeper into the corners. My belongings, untouched for a while, remained where I had left them in the morning.
I could clean it tomorrow. I wasn't in the mood tonight.
With a quiet exhale, I grabbed the same rag I'd used that morning, folded it up, and laid it down as a makeshift pillow on the floor. My sword stayed by my side, never too far.
Lying on my back, I stared at the ceiling, the dim red light from outside casting shifting shadows through the window.
What happened today wasn't something I could have imagined—not like this. Sure, I'd entertained the idea before… when I still resented everything, when I wanted the world to collapse so I could finally stop pretending to care.
Maybe some part of me had wanted it—this chaos.
But none of that matters now.
If I truly wanted to, I could kill every last one of those soldiers. Seal off this house. Spend the rest of this new reality alone. Isolated. Just like before.
And yet, I didn't.
Because despite everything… I still want to see where this leads and if this was harming against my interest.
If this entire scenario is a setup—if someone's pulling the strings—then eventually I'll cut those strings, and the hands that move them. Like before.
But if it's not? If this world really is changing, reshaping itself into something new?
Then maybe it's worth staying in the game. For now.
The board is bigger than before. There are more pieces in play—unknown alien species, people from the future, and I think there is still a hidden player in the dark.
And that system… It makes me want to scoff at its ridiculous logic.
Summon an entire troop from a military force for just 1,000 points? They're clones, sure—but the way they move, speak, act... it's too natural. Too human. Some of them don't even realize they're not real. And some cost even less—barely more than a standard-issue Beretta M9?
Either their quality is lower than I've expected… or there's a hidden catch. One aimed directly at me.
Then there's the matter of the Xh'kral. If their goal is to wipe out humanity before it becomes a threat, why choose this moment in history? Why not the Stone Age? Or even the prehistoric era?
It raises a troubling possibility—were they stranded in this timeline due to some incident during transit, perhaps the same one that caused the system to malfunction? Or did they deliberately choose this era for a specific reason?
But still, I will figure it out sooner or later.
After filling my head with countless tangled thoughts, I let out a quiet sigh, hoping to clear them away. With my mind starting to become more clear and calm, I closed my eyes, letting the darkness swallow my vision. For now, I will rest.
Tomorrow, I'll start gathering more information.
With that last thought, my mind fully slipped into sleep.