Tyra’s transport finally reached the fortified control point, its battered frame creaking as it slowed to a halt. The guards stationed at the entrance rushed forward, alarmed by the state of the vehicle. Tyra stumbled out, her movements heavy with exhaustion. Her uniform was singed, her face pale, and her eyes burned with the memories of the nightmare she’d just escaped.
She immediately sought out the sergeant on duty, recounting the ambush and the devastating attack by the Fire Rex. Her voice was strained but steady as she explained the malfunctioning weapons and the convoy’s ultimate destruction.
The sergeant listened grimly, his jaw tightening as the full weight of the losses settled in. The guards exchanged worried glances, their resolve shaken by the news.
“This is a disaster,” the sergeant muttered. “We’ll organize a recovery team immediately—deploy mechs to search for the lost tech, the Micro Astros, and… any survivors.”
The promise was clear, but Tyra doubted there would be anyone left to save. The Fire Rex’s merciless rampage was still vivid in her mind.
A FAMILIAR UNEASE
As the sergeant and his team scrambled to plan their mission, Tyra leaned against the armory wall, her thoughts racing. She couldn’t stop thinking about the two figures who had ambushed them earlier—Skully and Frosty. Something about them tugged at her memory.
I’ve heard of them before… but where? Who are they?
The unanswered question gnawed at her, but her body was too drained to pursue the thought further. With a deep breath, she stepped into the armory, her heavy magma suit and damaged weaponry clanking as she removed them. She handed them off to the repair team, who promised to have everything ready by morning.
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“I’ll look into this tomorrow,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. The promise felt hollow, but it gave her a sense of purpose to cling to.
Leaving the armory, Tyra climbed into one of the Magma Corps transport cars, programmed for the long drive back to her home in Magma City—a sprawling industrial hub carved into volcanic rock and sustained by the resources of the Magma Corporation.
A LONG ROAD
The journey back was quiet, save for the hum of the car’s engine. Tyra stared out at the desolate landscape, her mind replaying the day’s events. Skully and Frosty’s ambush had turned a routine job into a massacre. Her convoy—her comrades—were gone, and her failure to protect them weighed heavily on her.
Who were they? she wondered again, gripping the wheel tighter. And why do they feel so familiar?
Her frustration grew with every unanswered question. She sighed, forcing herself to focus on the road ahead, but the memories refused to fade.
HOME AT LAST
Hours later, the bright, fiery glow of Magma City finally appeared on the horizon. Tyra’s shoulders slumped in relief. The city was a testament to the resilience of the Magma Corps—massive obsidian skyscrapers and factories powered by geothermal energy loomed against the darkened sky.
She navigated through the busy streets, finally reaching her modest home nestled near the edge of the city. The garage door slid open as she pulled in, the car hissing as its systems powered down. Tyra stepped out, dragging her feet toward the house.
With a swipe on the control panel, the door unlocked, and she entered, closing it behind her. The comforting hum of the geothermal heating system welcomed her, but the weight of the day was too heavy for her to notice.
She trudged to the elevator, leaning against its wall as it carried her to the upper level. Once in her bedroom, she closed the door, letting out a shaky sigh. Without bothering to change, she collapsed onto the bed, her exhaustion finally overtaking her.
As her eyes drifted shut, her last conscious thought was a lingering resolve:
Tomorrow, I’ll find out who they are—and why this feels personal.
For now, she slept, her body desperate for the rest her mind refused to grant.