Jordanian Skies – En Route
The aircraft shuddered as it broke through low cloud cover. The desert city below was lit not by the rising sun, but by fires buildings crumbling under shellfire, streets cratered from Bastion mortars. Screams and alarms blended into the air like static. Entire districts were abandoned, their civilians already gone or buried beneath the rubble.
Inside the transport, the Rose's Thorns sat in tense silence. Their gear was heavier than before with Blackline stims snug in magnetic pouches, field kits prepped for rapid trauma work. Shawn stood near the door, hands gripping the overhead bar, eyes locked on the horizon.
"ETA: two minutes," the pilot called out. "LZ's hot. Repeat, hot. You'll be landing directly in contested zone."
"Copy that," Shawn replied, voice steady. "Thorns, masks on. Stims primed. No hesitation."
Spencer, already geared, checked the lock on his satchel. "How bad does it look?"
S3bastian, seated across from him, leaned forward with a smile that didn't quite reach his optics. "Worse than your first blind date. And that was catastrophic."
Shawn ignored them, locking in. "Blackline's never seen a live run. We find out today if it's salvation… or a death sentence."
Landing Zone Bravo – South Amman
The transport hit the ground with a crunch of sand and scorched debris. The doors flung open. Heat slapped their faces. Then came the chaos.
A mortar landed fifty meters from the drop point, sending stone and shrapnel skyward. Screams cut through the smoke. Bastions stalked the rooftops, their turrets unfolding like blooming iron flowers, raining bullets into the streets.
Orisa Vultures swooped above, javelins circling their chassis before darting into ruined buildings like spectral harbingers. Explosions tore through what little resistance remained.
Shawn's boots hit the sand first.
"Form up!" he barked. "Spencer, Leslie you'll be on north block. Virginia, Marco you have the civilian triage sector. Dwayne, Sonya, Felix, and Steve you guys will be with Lieutenant Amari and Reinhardt. Move!"
The medics peeled off with precision. And before each of them reached their first patient, they injected the Blackline dose. It didn't act like a stimulant. It didn't kick in violently or alter their state. But in the chaos of screaming bodies and incoming fire, something subtle shifted.
Their hands steadied. Their breaths slowed. Their focus sharpened.
Triage Sector
Virginia dropped beside a soldier whose femoral artery had been nicked. Blood sprayed out in pulsing waves. Without Blackline, he would've bled out in thirty seconds.
She slid the needle in before treating him, then applied pressure and biofoam. The bleeding slowed faster than usual.
"Clot rate's elevated," she said through her comm. "His body's already responding to the trauma. Blackline's kicking in faster than expected."
"Keep monitoring vitals," Shawn responded. "Check for overcorrection or neurological flash. If anything spikes, pull back."
North Block
Spencer and Leslie were pinned behind a collapsed wall, two wounded soldiers moaning behind them. The panther-like Bastion was prowling the rooftops, leaping like a predator between balconies.
"We need a distraction," Spencer muttered, loading a syringe into his injector.
"Or a miracle," Leslie replied.
Spencer injected the stim into the downed soldier before wrapping his ribs. The man coughed, face pale, but stayed conscious. "...Feels warm," he rasped. "Like something's running under my skin."
Spencer nodded. "That's your cells catching up."
Just then, the Bastion leapt down.
S3bastian dropped from the sky, landing on the Bastion's back. It bucked in an effort to knock him off, but his omnic grip wasn't going to give easily. His hand transformed, and he pumped plasma shots into the Bastion's causing it to fall to the ground as the light faded from its eyes.
"You're welcome!" S3bastian shouted through the dust.
Spencer stared in disbelief. "Did he just…"
"...I don't think I want to know," Leslie muttered, dragging the stabilized soldiers behind cover.
City Core – 0630 Hours
The tide was turning but not because of brute force.
Wounded soldiers, injected with Blackline before treatment, were surviving longer. Healing faster. Staying conscious when they should have passed out. One had a punctured lung and kept shooting. Another, with two broken legs, dragged himself behind a tank to lay covering fire.
And none of them were suffering the side effects that doomed ABR-7.
Shawn moved like a shadow through it all, coordinating medics, laying down support fire, activating his Vital Synch when needed. At one point, he found a soldier with a collapsed spine, completely paralyzed.
He pressed his palm against the man's chest. "This one's mine."
A glow passed between them and the soldier screamed as his body twitched, feeling returned. Shawn gritted his teeth, nearly passing out from the pain. But he stayed standing.
City Perimeter
With the Orisa Juggernaut on the approach, reinforcements arrived. A joint Overwatch-Arab League division brought heavy tanks and EMP launchers. The Juggernaut's shields faltered under coordinated bombardment.
The Rose Specialists regrouped at the forward command tent. Dirt and blood smeared every medic's gear, but their eyes were sharp. Alive. Energized. Shawn surveyed the damage and the survival rate. The death count was far lower than projections. Nearly every soldier treated with Blackline had made it past the first hour. Many were walking.
He looked over to S3bastian, who stood polishing his burnt arm plate.
"Well?" Shawn asked.
S3bastian nodded slowly. "Congratulations. You didn't just save lives. You might've changed the rules of war."
An alarm flared in the different part of the city. It would seem that this fight wasn't going to be so easy.