Day One – Old Quarter, Amman
The call came in less than ten minutes after the alarm.
"Sector Nine breached. Lieutenant Amari and Lieutenant Reinhardt are holding the line. Rose Rescue Specialist personnel with combat capability, reroute immediately."
Shawn didn't hesitate.
"Felix, Steve you're with me. The rest of you stay on medical grid rotation. Blackline stocks are running thin, ration them until more arrive."
S3bastian holstered his scorched plasma arm. "Finally. I was starting to think I'd signed up for a humanitarian mission."
Shawn glanced sideways. "You did. It just comes with artillery."
Southern Wall
Smoke belched into the sky. The Old Quarter's streets, once lined with arches and stone, were now riddled with molten craters. Overwatch tanks formed a burning trail through alleys. Collapsed storefronts sheltered scattered infantry. At the front, holding the final blockade before the inner perimeter Reinhardt Wilhelm, armor scorched and hammer sparking with raw energy, bellowed through dust and flame.
"A thousand of them and still not enough! Come, children of metal! I have more to give!"
Beside him, Ana Amari lined up headshots with her rifle, calm and cold, directing strike teams through comms even as her shots punched through omnic visors with precision.
"Reinhardt, watch your left..."
BOOM
A Bastion turret exploded mid-transformation, S3bastian landing beside its remains with plasma leaking from his shoulders.
Shawn arrived seconds later, leading Felix and Steve behind cover.
"We're reinforcing your position," he said quickly. "Where do you need us?"
Ana didn't even look up. "Backline's folding in three sectors. You've got medics who fight then use them."
He nodded. "We'll hold the west flank. S3bastian, clear their breach lanes."
"Could've said please," the omnic muttered, already moving.
End of Day One
They had just 47 minutes of rest.
Shawn sat beneath a makeshift canopy, his jacket soaked through with sweat and blood that wasn't his. Vital Synch had been used ten times in just an hour. His hands shook uncontrollably, muscles twitching from nerve fatigue that was healing slowly.
Felix returned with rations, throwing him an electrolyte drink. "You good, boss?"
Shawn forced a nod. "We're still breathing."
The city trembled as distant explosions echoed.
"They're not stopping," Ana said, approaching the fire pit they'd lit with ruined drone parts. "We intercepted a signal. The assault isn't just strategic, it's basically ritualistic. They're attacking us in rhythm."
"What's the interval?" Shawn asked.
Ana checked her slate. "Seventy-eight minutes between waves."
Reinhardt grunted, still fully armored and unwilling to rest. "They allow us just enough time to remember pain then make us relive it."
Day Two
The second assault came before the moon dipped below the horizon. Bastion artillery fired in barrages now, not in pairs. Orisa Juggernauts approached in pairs, coordinating shield matrixes that made them near-impervious to tank fire.
Shawn and S3bastian were separated during the breach of the central plaza.
Shawn found himself shielding two wounded soldiers in a collapsed market stall, a section of ceiling pressing on his shoulders as he channeled Vital Synch to keep one man's lungs from collapsing. Sparks danced across his fingertips.
A voice crackled in. "Shawn fall back to the clock tower. They're using altitude to cut off retreat routes. I repeat—fall back—"
He dropped the ceiling in a burst of energy, grabbed the two men, and dragged them toward the square. By the time he arrived, half of Rose's Thorns were there, some with cracked visors, some bleeding but all still moving. Ana arrived with her cloak torn, a line of blackened oil streaking her rifle. Reinhardt stood on a mound of broken omnics, hammer held high, his shield flickering in and out. And behind them… was nothing but more red eyes and the creaking of metal.
End of Day Two – 2110 Hours
The rhythm was torture. They had counted thirteen waves so far. One every seventy-eight minutes. No rest longer than a dream. Every meal cut short. Every wound treated only enough to keep the soldier standing.
Shawn had started using Blackline on himself.
The effects were subtle but real—his stamina held longer, his cell recovery improved. But the fatigue of healing others through Vital Synch still accumulated. Before he could ignore the pain, but now, his body still ached from lost wounds. His body felt heavier. His mind never stopped spinning.
"You can't keep doing this," Ana said to him over a temporary meal. "Your body's going to crack."
"So will theirs," Shawn replied, pointing at the soldiers eating silently nearby. They looked as if they weren't there, their eyes vacant as they just mindlessly ate their food. "Unless we stand with them."
She didn't argue. Reinhardt offered half a protein brick. "You may be strange, Rose… but your heart is worthy of armor."
Shawn took it, smiling faintly.
Day Three
The ground didn't rumble. It screamed. Omnics poured in like a tidal wave, all forms, all shapes. Panther Bastions scaling walls. Orisa Vultures dive-bombing rooftops. Juggernauts pushing into the trench lines.
S3bastian returned mid-fight with half his outer plating melted, dragging a shield generator and laughing.
"Stole this from their forward ops! Hope it still works. Catch!"
Reinhardt grabbed it and slammed it into the ground. A shimmering blue barrier enveloped their position just as a Bastion volley crashed down.
Shawn moved from patient to patient like a ghost. His energy was beyond spent, he was running on instinct and Blackline. His voice cracked as he ordered Felix to retrieve stim packs. His hands were black with dried blood. His breath came in gasps.
But he never stopped.
End of Day Three
The last wave died screaming.
EMP pulses from allied reinforcements swept across the horizon. Omnics froze mid-charge. Juggernauts collapsed in heaps of smoking metal. Bastions shrieked in static as their systems locked up.
Silence returned. Shawn collapsed to one knee. Around him, his medics slowly stood. Some leaned on each other. Others just dropped where they were and stared at the rising sun.
Ana crouched beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's over."
He barely whispered. "Then start counting the ones we saved."
Reinhardt stood in the smoke, armor cracked, hammer limp at his side.
"We held," he rumbled. "WE HELD!"
And from the dust and flame and pain, soldiers realized his words. Guns were raised in the air as they shouted in victory.