Stone Varga – Heavy Infantry POV
The battlefield was quiet now, but Stone Varga couldn't shake the storm that had just passed. He sat on a broken slab of concrete, helmet off, sweat streaking his weathered face. His squad cleaned weapons in silence around him.
He'd fought Hivebugs for years. He knew the rhythm of swarms, the pressure of reloads, the certainty of death breathing down your neck. He also knew the difference between dead weight and someone who could hold the line.
Sirius Blake had come out here green as grass. Stone expected him to fold. Maybe not die—Renegade had a reputation for surviving on sheer madness—but he thought the kid would crumble under pressure, drop his fancy toy, and leave the heavies to clean up the mess.
Instead, Stone had watched him laugh in the middle of the storm. Not out of fear, not hysteria—something else. Joy. Renegade's joy was terrifying, because it was the kind that fed fire into the rest of the squad.
Stone spat to the side, shaking his head. "Kid's insane. But damn it if he didn't fight like he belonged."
He picked up his rifle and inspected the scorched barrel. For the first time, he believed that maybe the Renegade was more than just rumors and machines.
---
Bear Ivanov – Mech Support POV
Bear slumped in the cockpit of his mech, armor creaking as the servos cooled. His body ached from recoil, his hands still tight on the controls. Outside, cleanup crews hauled Hivebug corpses away, their ichor steaming in the air.
He replayed the moment in his mind: Sirius standing at the center of a swarm, rifle barking, ammo counter glowing on his visor. The kid had looked small, fragile compared to the mech's steel, but he hadn't faltered.
Bear chuckled, rubbing a scar along his jaw. "Damn crazy bastard."
Renegade didn't fight like a soldier. Soldiers fought by the book—bursts, cover, reload. Sirius fought like a machine he'd built himself. Every reload was perfect, every shot measured, and when he laughed, Bear had felt it even inside his sealed cockpit.
He thought of the stories spreading through the barracks—the genius who never left his bench, the madman of FAWS. He hadn't believed half of them until now. But after today? He was convinced. Sirius Blake wasn't just FAWS anymore. He was a soldier, in his own broken way.
---
Whisper Kade – Medic POV
Whisper's gloves were slick with dried ichor and blood as she packed her kit. The medbay was quieter than usual—fewer casualties meant fewer screaming bodies to patch up. That, in itself, was a miracle.
She'd watched Sirius in the fight, her eyes flicking between her patients and his glowing visor. She expected him to panic when a drone nearly gutted him. Instead, he'd reloaded mid-panic, laughed in the thing's face, and blasted it apart like he'd been doing it for years.
Whisper tied off a bandage and let out a long breath. "Renegade, you idiot. You scared me half to death."
She smiled faintly. Not many people could pull her out of her calm shell. But Sirius did—because for the first time, she hadn't just been healing soldiers. She'd been watching one of her own stand shoulder-to-shoulder with them.
In her heart, she admitted it: she was proud.
---
Jinx Alvarez – Rapid Assault POV
Jinx tossed a knife into the air and caught it by the handle, grinning wide as he sat on the barracks steps. His energy hadn't dimmed since the fight.
Renegade in the field had been everything he'd hoped for. Sirius wasn't polished, wasn't disciplined, but he was unpredictable—and unpredictability was Jinx's favorite thing.
He laughed, remembering how Sirius had screamed at the bugs mid-battle, the sound half-insane, half-exhilarated. It had made Jinx want to scream too, to match the madness.
"Renegade, you're my kind of crazy," he muttered. "About damn time."
To Jinx, Sirius wasn't just an inventor anymore. He was chaos incarnate, and chaos had a place on the battlefield.
---
Sparks Novik – Weapons Operator POV
Sparks sat in the armory, cleaning her rifle with methodical precision. Every motion was neat, efficient, almost surgical. Her visor rested on the bench beside her, still faintly glowing with the Optic HUD Sirius had designed.
She hadn't trusted him before. Not really. A boy genius, yes. An innovator, sure. But a soldier? She doubted it. She'd seen inventors break in battle before, minds sharp but hands useless once the bullets started flying.
But Sirius hadn't broken. He'd adapted. His weapon had never faltered, his counter had never lied, and his hands had been steady even when the swarm closed in.
She tightened the last screw on her rifle and paused. "Maybe you're not a liability after all, Blake."
She wouldn't admit it aloud, but she respected him now. That counted for more than words.
---
Shade – Recon POV
Shade perched alone on a tower overlooking the base, rifle across his knees. He liked silence more than words. But silence wasn't enough to quiet the memory of Sirius' laughter cutting through the Hivebugs' screeches.
He'd been skeptical. He preferred to watch men through a scope, to judge them by where they stood when death came close. Sirius had stood in the open, fearless, daring the swarm to touch him.
Through his scope, Shade had seen the grin on his face, the spark in his eyes. Not arrogance. Not ignorance. Something else—an edge, honed by fire and madness both.
Shade exhaled through his nose, faint amusement curling his lips. "Renegade, huh? The name fits."
That was all the approval Sirius would ever get from him. But it was approval nonetheless.
---
Chief Loras – FAWS Head POV
In his office, Chief Loras reviewed the deployment report. Numbers scrolled across the holo-screen: survival rates, ammo efficiency, Hivebug casualties. The data was flawless, cleaner than any trial he'd seen in years.
But it wasn't the numbers that mattered. It was the whispers echoing across the barracks, the medbay, even the officer halls. Soldiers who had doubted FAWS now spoke its name with pride. And all of it centered on one boy.
Loras rubbed his chin, muttering. "Renegade Blake… you're forcing the army to change around you."
He chuckled quietly, surprising even himself. He hadn't laughed in years.
"Keep this up, boy, and they won't just call you Renegade. They'll call you necessary."
---
Sirius Blake – Quiet Moment POV
Back in his bunk, Sirius lay staring at the ceiling, armor stripped, helmet resting on the table beside him. His body ached from tension, but his mind buzzed with every detail of the fight.
He'd killed his first bug. He'd laughed in the swarm's face. He'd survived.
> "Mission analysis complete," ARI whispered. "Performance rating: 82%. Adjustments required: recoil management, situational awareness, stamina."
Sirius smirked. "So basically… don't die next time."
> "Correct."
He chuckled softly, rolling onto his side. For once, he wasn't thinking about circuits or schematics. He was thinking about his friends, the squad that had trusted him to stand beside them.
They had believed in him when it mattered. That was worth more than any blueprint.
And tomorrow, he'd be ready again.