Overwhelmed and disoriented, Eva recalls her team members when she suddenly feels a hand pull at the shoulder strap of her combat suit. “GET UP, SOLDIER! WE JUST GOT HIT AND CAN’T STAY HERE!” It’s her team leader, LT Stephen, Michael ‘Mike,’ screaming and pulling her to safety, away from incoming enemy artillery.

Eva can barely make him out through the haze, but his urgency spurs her into action. She stumbles to her feet, clawing at the ground with her right hand and forcing her right foot forward. She begins to run, stumbling and barely keeping upright, following Mike through fire and abandoned trenches, taking cover from enemy rounds.

Eva runs, nearly falling several times, but a hand keeps holding her shoulder, preventing her from collapsing. They run as fast as they can for what feels like an eternity through the tunnels. Disoriented and in pain, they finally reach a secure location—a battered old bunker from previous battles. It's not the most secure, but it’s strong enough to withstand incoming artillery rounds.

Eva takes a moment to catch her breath, leaning against the wall with her right hand, breathing heavily. “This is… worse than… the Marine Ball… from ’27,” she says sarcastically between breaths. Looking behind her, she notices SGT Thompson, the team’s medic known as ‘Doc,’ was the one helping her from falling over. “Glad… you… are fine… Doc…” she says between breaths.

Doc smiles and replies, “And I am so glad that you are alive, Eva,” as he also tries to catch his breath. Eva looks ahead and sees SPC Rivera, the team’s comms expert, has also survived the impact. She swallows hard, knowing it’s unnecessary to ask or mention the fate of the rest of the team. “We lost two more…” she whispers to herself. Unfortunately, part of being a soldier is understanding the reality of such situations. “People die… this is war,” Eva whispers to herself once more.

“Here, Sarge… have some water, you could use it,” SPC Rivera says, reaching out with a canteen on her left hand. As Eva reaches for it, she realizes the reason for her disorientation—she cannot see from her left eye. A cold chill runs up her spine as she notices her left arm is also missing. “Of course…” she thinks, acknowledging the heavy injuries she sustained from the artillery round, injuries she hadn’t had time to notice until now.

“I’m sorry, Sarge! I didn’t mean…” SPC Rivera begins, but Eva cuts him off. “Relax, kid… fortunately, cybernetically enhanced soldiers have pain blockers and responsive nano cells that prevent bleeding out in combat.” However, her left arm housed her GECKO, a personal system monitor for health, status, location, communication, and many other features Soldiers rarely bothered to understand unless needed. “It’s not like we use all the features it holds… but it would have been useful to know my current status,” she tells Rivera. She grabs the canteen with her right hand and smirks. “Thanks for the water, kid. I’m actually parched.”