January 25, 2059 –
Abandoned rail yard, South Side Chicago
Two weeks after the canal ambush. Snow turns to slush under a weak sun.
The Liberty Line scouts the rail yard for supplies—six adults ahead, forty-one kids waiting in the church.
Malik floats crates quietly. Aisha's prosthetic is smoother now. Kenji's side scar pulls when he lifts, but he lifts anyway.
They're preparing for Delphine's arrival—still weeks away, but every day counts.
Elijah checks the far fence when the trap springs.
Drones rise from boxcars—six, armed. Nullifier hum dulls powers.
Iron Patriot steps out alone from behind a tanker car.
"Smart hiding in rust."
Elijah's shadows crawl sluggish.
Patriot charges.
Elijah meets him. Shadows wrap alloy arms—weak, but slowing.
Patriot's fist connects. Elijah's jaw snaps, blood flooding his mouth, teeth loose.
Aisha blurs in—dulled but fast. Rebar spike into Patriot's knee joint. Metal screeches. Backhand sends her skidding, skin shredding shoulder to elbow, blood streaking gravel.
Maya strains against the nullifier—gold pushing, veins bulging. Drone explodes, shrapnel slicing Kenji's cheek to bone.
Kayden flickers faint duplicates. One drone wastes ammo on a ghost.
Malik lifts a rail tie—heavy even dulled. Slams Patriot's back—plates dent.
Patriot grabs Malik's throat. Collarbone cracks. Blood bubbles.
Jonah screams telepathically. Drones stutter. Patriot clutches helmet.
Null field flickers—Jonah burns the source.
Powers surge.
Elijah tightens shadows around Patriot's neck.
Patriot knees Elijah's gut. Air explodes out, bile and blood.
Maya blinds him full gold. Aisha drags Malik. Kenji impales two drones with earth spikes.
Patriot retreats limping, cape torn.
"You're making me look bad," he snarls. "That costs lives."
Chopper lifts him away.
Silence falls except dripping blood and ragged breath.
Elijah spits red on slush.
They limp back—wounded again, alive.
Delphine's countdown ticks louder.
The war knocks harder.