The wind was picking up. From the top of Watchtower 5, the night seemed unnaturally still—no insect noise, no city echo, no sea breeze. Just silence.
Too much silence.
Private Zandro Lacsamana stared through his night vision scope, knuckles white on his rifle. The last siege had ended just hours ago. Fires still smoldered near the southern perimeter. Yet something in his gut said this wasn't over.
Then he saw it.
"Contact—Sector S-2!" he shouted into his comms. "Multiple IR signatures! Fast movers, fifty-plus—scratch that—hundreds!"
The tower alarm wailed. Red strobes came back to life. The quiet shattered.
01:10 AM — MOA Command Center
"Another wave? Already?" Thomas Estaris's voice was sharp, as he strode in with Colonel Sison behind him.
"It's not as big as the last," the operator at the main console reported. "But faster. Like a spearpoint."
Rebecca burst into the room, lacing up her tactical vest. "Trying to breach before we can recover."
