The logistics center was carnage.
Bodies everywhere—Covenant agents and Republic soldiers alike, torn apart by mandibles that didn't discriminate. Ants swarmed through the facility, feeding on fresh corpses, attacking anything that moved.
"Bessia, triage check!" Bright commanded, his spatial foresight mapping the space. "Anyone still alive needs immediate extraction!"
Bessia moved through the horror with professional detachment, checking bodies with rapid efficiency. Most were dead—thoroughly, messily, recently. But her stint at the medical bay could allow her detect life signs normal perception would miss.
"Here!" she called. "There is a faint pulse! Still breathing!"
Bright's foresight focused on the location—a body half-buried under debris, ants beginning to swarm over it.
He moved without thought, blade extending, cutting through ants with mechanical efficiency. Duncan followed, his Bone Guard clearing a path, crushing insects that tried to interfere.
