Rain fell in sheets, soaking the blackened ruins of the compound. Gunfire crackled in the distance, sharp and methodical. Kael crouched behind the fractured wall of a collapsed corridor, eyes scanning the shadows beyond his rifle scope. The mission was deep extraction—hostile territory, zero backup. Just six of them.

Too risky.
Too late.

He glanced down at the comm clipped to his vest. Her voice had gone quiet. She was with Echo Squad on the north perimeter. He had argued—hell, fought—against her deployment. But the mission planner insisted they needed her. And she agreed.

Kael knew the baby was close. He could feel it in the way she held herself tighter, breathed deeper. Still she had said nothing. Not to the others.

Just him.

Movement ahead. A flash of an enemy. Kael dropped the target with one clean shot. Beside him, Torres flinched.

“You good, Grave?” Torres asked.

Kael nodded once. “Keep moving.”

The comms buzzed to life. Static. Then her voice. Tight. Breathing hard.

“Ghoul—”

Kael froze.

“Skeleton—shit—Skeleton, do you copy?”

His blood iced over.

Another burst of static. Then—

“GHOST.”

Louder. Clearer. Like a siren in a dream.

Kael straightened slowly, the rifle suddenly heavy in his hands. He turned his head toward the others. They stared at him, confused.

“Did she just say ghost?” Valdez asked, squinting.

Kael didn’t answer. His heart was a war drum. He looked north, into the haze, as if he could will himself to her side.

“She’s using a code word,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“A what?”

Kael’s voice was low. Controlled. But something primal shimmered beneath the surface.

“She’s having the baby.”

The silence hit like a stun grenade. Eyes widened. No one moved.

"What baby? What are you talking about?" Valdez asked totally confused.