The square had been transformed into something unfamiliar. Where there had once been open dirt and the scattered remnants of battle, there was now a makeshift field hospital sprawling across the clearing.
Supply crates had been repurposed into tables for charting vitals and stacking gear, while sheets hung between tree branches to provide shade. Rows of bandages and sterilized tools were laid out neatly on crates and blankets. The air still carried the smell of dust, sweat, and scorched stone, but the sharp bite of blood had begun to recede into the background.
I moved between the cots with slow, uneven steps, each movement taking more concentration than it should have. My head throbbed with a pressure that hadn’t eased since the collapse of the network. It wasn’t sharp pain, but somethi
