That got a laugh. A real one this time, short and sharp, like a cough.
The medic from earlier crawled over, dragging a pack that looked heavier than it should've been.
"Anybody hit?" he asked.
Someone raised a hand halfway. "Define hit."
The medic looked at him. "If you can joke, you're fine."
The man nodded. "Good. I was worried."
The medic moved on.
A young soldier barely more than a kid sat with his back against the wall, helmet off, staring at nothing.
His lips moved silently.
Ethan leaned closer. "You okay?"
The kid blinked, eyes focusing slowly. "Yeah. Yeah. Just… counting."
"Counting what?"
The kid smiled weakly. "How many of us are left."
Ethan followed his gaze, counting bodies that still moved.
"…You're bad at math," Ethan said.
The kid let out a shaky laugh. "Yeah. Always was."
A crack of alien fire lit the street briefly, painting everything in harsh white.
Everyone flinched.
"False alarm," someone said. "Just probing."
