[justify]The sky was wrong. That was her first thought. Too wide. Too open. No ceiling. No dome. No steel ribs holding it together. Chrys lay on her back for half a breath too long, lungs dragging in air that tasted impossibly clean, and it made her skin crawl. Freedom had never felt like this. It felt exposed.

She rolled to her side and pushed up onto her hands. Grass. Real grass. Damp against her palms. Alive. Someone laughed. A kid. The sound hit something soft in her chest, and she looked over in time to see the little boy from holding splashing in mud like it was treasure. Good, she thought distantly. At least someone gets the fairytale version.

She didn’t stand right away. She scanned. Tree line: dense. Old growth. Too much shadow. Mountains: good landmarks. Bad escape route. Open clearing: terrible defensible position. People were turning in circles, staring at the sky like it might applaud them. Chrys got to her feet slowly, brushing dirt from her hands. She clocked the soldier immediately, posture tight even here, eyes already calculating. Good. At least one other person wasn’t drunk on blue.

The Tear sealed behind them with a pulse. Chrys didn’t look at it. That chapter was done. Then the roar came. It didn’t sound mechanical. Didn’t sound human. It sounded ancient. The vibration moved through her boots, up her spine, into her teeth. Her jaw set.

[colour=6B8E23]“Yeah,”[/colour] she muttered under her breath. [colour=6B8E23]“Of course.”[/colour]

Birds exploded from the trees. Movement followed. Not the animal. People. Chrys’ eyes narrowed as the armed squad broke through the tree line at a sprint, formation tight, weapons up. Not scavengers. Not panicked civilians. Organized. Been here a while.

[i]“On your feet!”[/i]

She was already moving. She didn’t run toward them blindly like half the group. Instead she angled slightly, closing distance but keeping sight lines open. The woman leading the squad had command presence, and Chrys clocked that immediately. Not corporate. Not soft.

Branches split again behind them. That was not a bluff. Chrys reached down without thinking and hauled one of the stunned men up by the back of his collar as he hesitated. [colour=6B8E23]“Move,”[/colour] she snapped, voice low and sharp. Not panicked. Directive. [colour=6B8E23]“Unless you want to find out what that is up close.”[/colour]

He moved. Good. Another roar. Closer. This time she felt the weight of it in her ribs. Perez was stepping forward with the boy tugging his hand. Chrys saw the conflict in his movement, advance or rear guard, and for a fraction of a second their eyes met across the clearing. You take front. I’ll take back. No words. Just an understanding born from knowing what collapse looked like.

She fell back slightly, not far enough to isolate herself, but enough to watch the trailing edge of the group as they scrambled toward whatever refuge these armed strangers offered. The clearing wasn’t secure. The leader had said it. That meant they had somewhere that was. Which meant territory. Which meant structure.

Chrys felt something almost like relief. A system to step into before she stepped out of it. As the ground trembled again and something massive moved in the trees, she cast one last look over her shoulder at the forest edge. [colour=6B8E23]“Not today,”[/colour] she murmured. Then she turned and ran with the others, not toward safety. Toward information.[/justify]