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[i][b]Yesterday night, approx. 12 AM[/b][/i]
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It was midnight now. The party ended a few hours ago. Most of the Commune had gone to bed, and the Crow’s Nest was eerily quiet. Dallas was still lying awake in bed, which was uncommon for him given that he was the type to wake up [i]almost[/i] as early as Erik. There was a simple reason for him to be up so late. It was because he knew what he was about to do and didn’t want to wake anyone if he started screaming in agony. 

Dallas rolled off his pile of mattresses and opened the drawer underneath his little end table. There was only one thing inside of it which was the vestige he’d received during today’s mission. At least, he assumed it was a vestige. He’d never unwrapped the cloth and actually looked at it. He grabbed it and quietly slid the drawer closed. The voices were coming back again. They were too faint to make out anything coherent, but it was disturbing to have someone talk inside your head. Dallas honestly wanted to take the thing and throw it as far away as possible. 

Dallas put the object on his bed and carefully unwrapped it. As expected, it was truly a vestige. The crystalline mass wasn’t nearly as smooth as it appeared to be. There were flat sides and jagged edges that had been concealed by the thickness of the cloth. It was like a mineral freshly dug out of the ground. It was a dark red color, and even though the lights were off it glowed brightly in his presence.

[color=darkorange][i]Vestiges just give you your old memories back. They don’t erase the person you are now. It should be fine as long as I wasn’t a serial killer or something.[/i][/color] Dallas psyched himself up and moved his hand towards the crystal. There was no point hesitating. He laid his palm over the surface and waited for the pain. 

Spikes shot out of the vestige explosively, impaling Dallas’s hand in several different places. He tightened his diaphragm and tried as hard as possible not to cry out in pain. It was like lightning was traveling straight through his blood vessels. Dallas grabbed his wrist with his other hand and braced himself. The images were already beginning to flood his brain, and he went into catatonic shock shortly after. 

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[i]The operation was burnt. Hosmann never should have planned an excursion based on week old intelligence. This sector was [/i]not [i]a green zone as they previously believed. The expedition had brought enough weapons and soldiers to fight maybe thirty or forty Lost in the worst case. In a domino effect of bad luck and poor decisions, the forces of Shadow Glen were forced to fight over a hundred of them. It was impossible to know how many people had survived during the mad retreat to the rally point, because an infernal destroyed most of their radios with an unknown energy attack. Humans and revenants were still filtering into the makeshift perimeter of tactical trucks and humvees. 

Dallas was sitting on the hood of one of the transports. He was one of the few people to make it out without getting hurt. He unscrewed the cap of his canteen and poured the last of its contents straight down his throat. It was like swallowing liquid fire. The dirty moonshine tasted like rubbing alcohol mixed with sugar cubes. He coughed for several seconds and clipped the canteen back onto his belt. 

Sergeant Magnus was approaching him now. With his hearing, Dallas could tell without looking. He still turned his head properly out of respect. The six foot five nordic giant was less a man and more a walking, talking slab of beef. Despite his chest being covered in lacerations, the sergeant was smiling from ear to ear. 

Magnus slapped his hand on the side of the truck. [color=darkgreen]“Dallas! Good to see you made it in one piece.”[/color] Dallas nodded and slid off the hood so he could speak to the sarge properly. 

[color=darkorange]“Yeah, barely. I nearly bit the bullet dragging Garza out of that ambush. He wouldn’t stop crying all the way to the convoy. It makes me wonder why we keep taking humans outside like this.”[/color] 

The sergeant sighed. [color=darkgreen]“Now’s really not the time Dallas…”[/color]

[color=darkorange]“Why do you keep making excuses for bringing them with us? We shouldn’t be using our food supply as soldiers. They’re too weak to be of any use anyways.”[/color] Dallas spoke low enough that the humans in their midst wouldn’t overhear. 

[color=darkgreen]“I’d love to discuss the human condition with you Dallas, but I really need you to put your game face back on. Part of the horde has split off and is slowly advancing on our position. The convoy is moving out in five and I need you to drive this truck.”[/color]

Dallas shrugged. [color=darkorange]“Sure. Whatever. Does this mean we’re leaving Tiana’s squad behind?”[/color] 

[color=darkgreen]“No. I’ll take some revenants with me and head back into the city to bail them out. Last I heard before radio silence, they were retreating towards the secondary extract. There was a pack of infernals between them and us. Owen will direct the convoy home.”[/color] Sergeant Magnus clipped his respirator back on and donned his black ballistic helmet. [color=darkgreen]“Let me borrow your weapon. I left my sword in the back of a tentacle earlier.”[/color] Dallas wordlessly tossed his fire axe at the wounded soldier. The latter caught it in midair and went to link up with his team. Dallas noticed the aggression lurking underneath his calm exterior.  The sarge became an entirely different person when his people were in danger. 

Dallas pulled open the door of the truck and scooted himself into the driver seat. As he did so, he noted the person napping in the passenger seat beside him. Garza had been bawling his eyes out while running from a dozen thralls less than an hour ago. Now he was sound asleep with a jacket over his head. The stone faced revenant shook his head and started the engine. Humans were incredible at times.[/i]
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Dallas’s eyes shot open when he heard the sound of Erik’s voice booming in the distance. He raised his head off the mattress and looked around. Did he black out? 

[color=gold]“REVENANTS! SIDHE! HUMANS! TO THE STRATEGY ROOM! EVERYONE! DON'T CARE HOW YOU GET THERE! WALK, FLY, ROLL, SKIP, CREEP IN, HOWEVER! JUST GET THERE!”[/color]

[color=darkorange][i]Fuck! I slept in![/i][/color] Dallas swiftly sprayed on some cologne he had sitting on the table and threw on his fireman jacket before bursting through the door. It took him less than a minute to reach the strategy room in a dead sprint. 

When Dallas presented himself for roll call, his head was a mess. It wasn’t just the alcohol either. His head was uncomfortably full of new information. Aside from the visible memories, names and concepts began to return as well. The names of people he knew. The names of places. He was vaguely starting to remember some of the locations he’d been to. The name Shadow Glen meant something to him, but he couldn’t say what. It was still difficult to piece together anything specific. Perhaps his brain needed more time to process everything.

Dallas saw that not everyone had arrived yet, so he relaxed a bit and allowed his eyes to wander. The number of maps on the strategy table had apparently quadrupled. As a newcomer he didn’t know much about the Commune’s logistics. Was this a trade route of some kind? He studied it out of curiosity while waiting for the others.