Chapter 13: Unmasking Betrayal.

The battlefield, still thick with the acrid scent of smoke and blood, bore witness to the aftermath of brutal combat. Twisted metal and scorched earth stretched as far as the eye could see, while the victors—Sentinel and ADF forces—stood amidst the wreckage, their eyes heavy with the weight of the battle just fought. Ava, her armor smudged with grime and blood, moved methodically among the troops, her sharp gaze assessing the wounded and the captured alike.

The Reclaimer prisoners stood in a line, their faces marked by fear and uncertainty. Bound with their hands behind their backs, they shuffled uneasily under the cold stares of their captors. Some tried to avoid eye contact, their eyes downcast, shoulders hunched as though they could somehow disappear from view. Ava’s presence was like a cold wind as she moved closer, her steps deliberate, the click of her boots on the hard ground the only sound in the sudden silence that settled over the prisoners.

She stopped in front of a gaunt young man, no older than nineteen. His uniform was torn and bloodied, and he trembled under her gaze. Ava’s eyes bore into him, not with malice, but with a force that made him fidget nervously. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice steady, but it carried the weight of command, making it clear there was no room for lies.

The young man swallowed hard, his gaze flickering from her boots to her face, avoiding her eyes. "S-Samuel," he stammered, his voice barely audible.

"Why are you fighting for them?" Ava pressed, leaning in slightly, her tone sharpening.

The young man seemed to shrink under her scrutiny. His lips quivered before he finally spoke, his words trembling with fear. "They… They took my family. Said if I didn’t fight, they'd kill them." His confession came out in a rush, as if he feared the words themselves might get him killed.

A ripple of uneasy murmurs ran through the line of prisoners. One by one, other captives began to speak, their voices laced with bitterness and sorrow.

"They do it to all of us," muttered a man in his thirties, his face lined with fatigue and despair. "They come to our villages, town and community's, take our families, and give us no choice. Fight for them, or watch our loved ones die."

Another prisoner, older and hardened by years of violence, stepped forward, his eyes hollow but filled with a quiet rage. A jagged scar ran across his cheek, giving his gaunt face a menacing appearance, but the words he spoke were full of defeat. "My wife and kids… They told me they’d protect them if I signed up. But we all know how that ends."

Ava listened, her jaw clenched, as more prisoners spoke up, their stories blending into a horrific tapestry of forced conscription, threats, and loss. Her gaze swept across the haggard faces, taking in the fear and desperation that had driven these men to fight for a cause they didn’t believe in. She glanced over at Commander Sterling, whose eyes held the same grim understanding.

"They use them like cannon fodder," another prisoner said bitterly, spitting into the dirt. "We do the dirty work while their officers sit back, safe in their bases, sipping drinks and watching us die."

As the murmurs grew louder, a scuffle broke out further down the line. A Reclaimer lieutenant—an older man with a steely gaze—was elbowing his way through the prisoners, trying to silence them. His eyes darted nervously toward Ava, knowing full well who she was and what she represented.

"That’s one of their lieutenants," Samuel muttered, his voice low but filled with loathing. "He forced us to fight. Threatened our families."

Ava’s expression darkened, and without a word, she strode over to the lieutenant. With a swift, brutal motion, she grabbed him by the collar and shoved him hard into the mud. His face hit the ground with a wet smack, and he grunted in pain.

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"You’ll speak when spoken to," Ava snarled, her voice like ice, freezing him in place. The other prisoners watched in tense silence, fear rippling through them as Ava’s wrath was unleashed.

Nearby, Keith—the captured Reclaimer tech—stood nervously, his eyes wide as he observed the scene. He shifted uncomfortably, but when he saw one of the Reclaimer officers trying to edge away, his eyes widened in recognition. "Ava!" he called, his voice urgent. "That one—he’s a high-ranking officer! He’s trying to slip away!"

Talon, always quick on his feet, reacted instantly. He sprinted toward the officer, tackling him to the ground with a swift, brutal motion. The officer let out a grunt as Talon pinned him, dragging him back through the mud and shoving him in front of Commander Sterling. "Thought you could get away, huh?" Talon growled, his grip like iron on the man’s collar.

Sterling approached the captured officer, his eyes narrowing in scrutiny. He nodded to the guards, who yanked the officer to his feet and hauled him off for interrogation.

Turning back to Samuel and the other conscripts, Sterling’s voice softened, though it still carried authority. "Your honesty here can save your families and your villages. Help us end this, and you’ll see better days."

Samuel nodded, his face pale but determined. "We’ll tell you everything," he promised, and the other conscripts murmured their agreement. The floodgates opened, and information poured out—details of the Reclaimers’ operations, their supply routes, the locations of hidden bases, and the cruel tactics they used to force compliance.

Ava stood silently beside them, her presence still commanding as the conscripts continued to spill their secrets. She made sure every word was recorded, every bit of intel noted. "Every detail helps," she told them, her voice steady and reassuring, offering them a glimpse of hope amidst their despair.

The prisoners were eventually herded away, under guard but treated fairly, just as Sterling had commanded. Ava watched them go, her thoughts heavy. These weren’t enemies—they were victims, trapped in a war they never asked for.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the battlefield, Ava stood tall, her silhouette stark against the fading light. She turned to Talon, who was cleaning his rifle nearby. "We’ve uncovered more than we bargained for," she said quietly, her voice filled with a mix of resolve and weariness.

Talon glanced at her, offering a grim smile. "Yeah. But we’re getting closer. One step at a time."

Ava nodded, her gaze fixed on the horizon, where the next battle—and the hope of ending this war—awaited.

Later that evening, after the prisoners were secured and the camp began to settle, Ava found a quiet spot away from the bustling noise of the soldiers. She sat on the edge of a small hill overlooking the battlefield, the fading light casting long shadows over the wreckage and bodies still scattered across the field.**

Talon approached silently, dropping down beside her without a word, just the quiet companionship they often shared after battles like this. For a few moments, neither spoke, letting the silence stretch between them.

Finally, Ava broke the stillness. "I only see them as targets during the fight, you know. It's like something switches off inside me. I don’t see faces, I don’t hear their voices. Just... targets. And then when it’s all over, I look back and realize they were people." Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but laced with something darker, a trace of self-loathing.

Talon was quiet for a moment, watching the horizon. "It’s the only way to survive, Ava. You know that." He glanced at her, his eyes softened by understanding. "If we saw them as people in the middle of it, we wouldn’t be able to fight the way we do. It’s what keeps us alive."

Ava shook her head slowly, her gaze distant. "But when it’s over, and they’re on their knees, terrified, begging... that's when it hits. I feel nothing for them until after. It’s like I’m becoming someone else out there—someone who doesn’t care. And then... it’s too late."

Talon nodded, his voice low. "We’ve both seen what happens when we lose ourselves out there. The anger, the violence—it eats at you. But maybe the trick is remembering it once the fight’s done. It’s not who you are, Ava. It’s what you have to do."

She looked over at him, her expression haunted. "But what if one day I can't turn it off? What if I stop seeing them as people even after the battle ends?"

Talon met her gaze, his voice firm. "You won’t. I’ll be here to remind you if you ever forget. You’ve got a darker side, sure. We all do. But I trust you, Blondie. I trust that you won’t lose yourself in it."

Ava gave him a small, tired smile. "Thanks, Talon. I hope you're right."

The quiet stretched out between them again, the sounds of the camp distant and muted. In the fading light, they sat side by side, warriors who had seen too much, but still clinging to the hope that there was something left inside worth holding onto.