Training continued.
Near the gear tables, Travis ran triage on practice injuries, gold light guttering in his palms as a soldier hissed through his teeth.
"It's a sprain, not a death," he said. "Stop flirting with the apocalypse and drink the electrolytes".
While he worked, he soon noticed Ethan and flashed a lopsided grin. "You should sign my fan's ration cards".
"Have you heard? Surge Hands is taking autographs now."
Ethan rolled his eyes and refused to comment, taking a moment to catch his breath. He simply glared at him, a gesture which Travis laughed at.
On another side on a raised strip of cracked asphalt, the Mobility squad took their turn against a geometry of ice.
Selene, a Captain of the quarantine zone, compact and quiet, with her knives sheathed at her back stepped to the line.
