In the abandoned mining planet, the wind carried sand mixed with the scent of rust, the air thick with the heavy smell of sulfur and engine oil. The sky was stained a grayish-yellow by dust and mist, like a shroud of mourning that would never lift. Ethan Cross and Jake Riley stood beside a newly repaired cruiser, its engine emitting a low rumble.

  Suddenly, a loud noise echoed from the distance—something like an explosion, or perhaps the dull thud of metal crashing into the ground. Immediately after, the sound of hurried footsteps and a guttural, tearing roar cut through the dust, mingled with the piercing clang of metal striking metal.

  Ethan squinted into the distance. Through the haze, a figure stumbled toward them, dragging a trail of fresh red blood behind. It was a woman, lean but sturdy, her tattered combat uniform hanging off her frame, clutching a bent steel blade in her hand, the blade still wet with blood.

  She was covered in dust and blood, a fresh gash across her face, her eyes bloodshot, like a beast that had lost all reason. She charged into view and abruptly stopped, dropping to one knee to catch her breath. When she looked up, her eyes, brimming with murderous intent, swept over Ethan and Jake, her voice hoarse and growling. “You… are you fighting the colonial army?”

  Before either could answer, a squad of colonial army patrol soldiers came chasing from the distance. She suddenly sprang up, her steel blade slashing through the air with a whoosh, lunging straight at a figure that had just emerged from behind the ruins. In a few breaths, three bodies lay on the ground, the stench of blood mixing with the wind and sand, spreading through the air.

  Jake grabbed his wrench, frowning as he muttered, “Is this woman insane? She’s like a damn wolf.” He started to step forward, but Ethan grabbed him, his voice low and firm. “Don’t move—she’s not coming for us.”

  In the distance, a ruined residential area came into view. This had once been a home for miners and their families; now, it was nothing but broken walls and rubble. Among the collapsed buildings, a few emaciated children huddled together, sharing a small, dusty piece of compressed biscuit. The oldest boy, perhaps just over ten, pushed his share toward his younger sister, his eyes hollow in a way no child’s should be. On his arm was a fresh branded number—a “property mark” from the colonial army.

  Beside the ruins, several bodies were carelessly piled up, left unburied and ignored. An old man sat nearby, his eyes vacant, mechanically twisting the remains of what had once been a toy in his hands, muttering to himself. If you got closer, you could hear him repeating, “They said useless people should be cleared out, useless people should be cleared out…”

  On a half-collapsed wall, the colonial army’s emblem was painted, with their slogan beneath it: “Order is Freedom.” Ironically, at the base of the wall lay a string of broken chains and several shattered laborer collars.

  Ethan stared at the woman—Tara—and shouted, “Enough! They’re dead—stop!”

  The woman turned her head, her steel blade still dripping with blood, her eyes still wild. She was panting heavily, staring at Ethan as if trying to determine whether he was friend or foe, a cold laugh escaping her throat. “Stop? I won’t stop until the colonial army is dead!” She swayed, blood seeping from a wound on her chest, yet she staggered forward, seemingly intent on continuing her pursuit.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  Ethan frowned. If this woman keeps killing, the colonial army’s reinforcements will arrive, and we’ll all be exposed. He quickly pulled a captured pulse gun from his waist and fired a shot into the sand near Tara’s feet. The electric blast erupted, sending sand flying.

  “I didn’t shoot you—I’m trying to get you to calm down. The colonial army has outposts nearby. If you charge out again, we’ll all die here. If you want revenge, you need to stay alive.”

  Tara gritted her teeth, her grip on the steel blade tightening, her arm trembling with the effort. She stared at Ethan, the murderous intent in her eyes gradually giving way to a sliver of reason, her breathing slowly steadying. She glanced down at the blood on the ground, then at the ruins in the distance, and nodded silently.

  She paused, her voice low. “My name’s Tara. I was born in this hellhole. The colonial army bombed my camp, killed everyone—I took down five of their patrol soldiers to escape.”

  As she spoke, a miner emerged from the ruins, trembling as he approached them. His work uniform was in tatters, and through the tears, you could see his skin covered in countless whip marks. He spoke in a nearly numb voice. “Three days ago, they came, saying they were ‘optimizing the workforce.’ The elderly, the sick, and anyone who resisted—they were all ‘cleared out.’ They forced us to watch, as ‘education.’” He glanced at the steel blade in Tara’s hand, a flicker of envy in his eyes.

  In the distance, the sound of an alarm rang out, and the children immediately scattered like frightened animals, hiding in the ruins. The boy who had been sharing the biscuit grabbed his sister and hurriedly crawled into a nearly invisible narrow crevice, his movements so practiced it was heartbreaking.

  Tara clenched her jaw, her eyes reddening slightly. “That day, I hid under the water tower, watching them burn my camp to ashes. I swore that as long as I’m alive, not a single one of the colonial army will die easy. Are you going after Federation Corp’s bastards?”

  Ethan nodded, holstering the pulse gun, his tone steady. “Yes, we’re ‘Rebirth Company.’ We’re just starting out, aiming to drive Federation Corp’s colonial army out.” He sized her up. This woman’s like a wounded wolf—her killing intent is terrifying, but surviving this long makes her a fighter. He said firmly, “You can fight, and we need people. Join us—stop killing on your own.”

  Tara let out a cold laugh, raising her steel blade to point into the distance. “Those animals took my home—I won’t stop. But you’re right; I can’t take them down alone.” She coughed up a mouthful of blood, stubbornly standing straight. “I’ll join you, as long as I can kill more of them.”

  She limped toward the cruiser, glancing back at the hiding children with a complicated look in her eyes, muttering under her breath, “They’re like me—no home left. I have to make sure they survive.”

  Jake let out a whistle, walking over to hand her a bottle of water, grinning. “Having a tough life is a good thing, but if you don’t treat that wound, even the toughest life will end here. Drink some water—don’t drag us down.”

  Ethan watched Tara climb onto the ship, a glint of approval in his eyes. She’s like a blade—too sharp, needs some tempering, but she’s exactly what we need. He nodded. “She’s in. You rest and recover first—once you’re healed, you come with us.” He turned to Jake. “She’s joining us, but we need to keep her fire in check so she doesn’t burn our own people.”

  As they took off and left, the hiding children cautiously poked their heads out, watching the cruiser disappear into the distance. The colonial army’s alarm still echoed faintly.

  Above the ruins, a faint light finally broke through the grayish-yellow sky.