It was raining ash that morning—soft, gray, and quiet, like the world had run out of ways to hurt itself.

Reina was the first to notice movement on the east camera.  

She frowned. “Contact at the gate. One elderly male, wounded. No cargo.”

Gene barely looked up from his console. “Probably another scammer with a baby doll.”

Reina didn’t answer. Her tone changed, tight. “No… that’s the same old man. The one with the kids.”

That made everyone stop.

The man stumbled into view, dragging the same handcart—but this time, there were no solar panels on it.  

Just two small, unmoving figures covered in rags.

Freya gasped. “Oh no…”

Reina immediately hit the intercom. “This is Hancock Fortress. Identify yourself.”

The man lifted his head. His face was streaked with blood and dust.  

“I’m Puka McKerson,” he said hoarsely. “Please… my grandchildren—Jesse and Naris—they’re hurt. We were attacked… thieves… they took everything.”

Reina’s voice softened. “What happened?”

The old man’s words trembled out, between gasps.  

“We went home that day, happy… with food, blankets… but they came.  

They beat me. Beat the kids. Took everything.  

I begged them to leave the little ones. They laughed.”  

He wiped his eyes with a shaking hand.  

“They hit them anyway.”

The control room went silent.  

Even Liz, usually all sarcasm and noise, said nothing.

On-screen, the man knelt in front of the gate.  

At his waist hung a small hand axe—rusted, but sharpened.  

“I’m not here to trade,” he said, voice cracking.  

“I’m begging you—take the children in.  

Let them live. I’ll go find those bastards myself.  

Even if I die doing it.”

Reina’s hand clenched on the console. Her jaw tightened.  

That calm, soldier’s voice of hers turned sharp. “He’s bleeding out, Gene.”

Gene’s eyes didn’t leave the monitor. Something in him burned—a quiet anger he hadn’t felt in years.  

The kind that made his fingers twitch for a weapon.

For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then: “Open the gate. North annex. Now.”

Reina blinked. “Confirmed?”

“Do it,” Gene said. “And get Kayla and Alyssa to the annex. Full medical support. I don’t care what we use.”

Kayla was already grabbing the med kit. “On it.”

Alyssa adjusted her glasses, calm but pale. “We’ll stabilize them. If they’re breathing, they’ll live.”

The gate creaked open, air hissing out like a sigh.  

Reina’s voice came through the speakers. “Come in slowly, sir. You’re safe now.”

Puka McKerson pushed the cart forward, staggering with every step.  

Blood dotted the concrete. When the children came into view, everyone fell silent again.  

Bruised faces. Torn clothes. One of them barely breathing.

Freya covered her mouth, tears forming. “They’re just kids…”

Even the System didn’t speak for a moment.

Finally, Gene muttered, “System. Can you locate the ones who did this?”

> **System:** “Accessing satellite memory… partial coverage.  

>  Tracing recent human activity near coordinates of previous residence…  

>  Scan complete. Six armed individuals detected.  

>  Probability of identification: 83%.  

>  Estimated distance: 14 kilometers north.”

Gene’s voice dropped. “Alive?”

> **System:** “Yes. Heat signatures stable.  

>  Engaged in campfire activity. Possibly intoxicated.”

Reina’s eyes flicked toward Gene. “Orders?”

Gene stared at the monitor, jaw tight. “They hurt children, Reina.”

Kayla muttered, “We’re not exactly running a police department here.”

Liz raised an eyebrow. “But ratings would skyrocket if we were.”

No one laughed.

Gene took a deep breath. “We’re not police. We’re just… people who don’t look away.”

He turned to Reina. “Prepare the truck. You, me, and Nara.”

Freya’s eyes widened. “You’re going out there?”

> **System:** “Warning: host intends field engagement.  

>  Risk factor—high. Morale improvement—maximum.”

“Yeah,” Gene said quietly. “Let’s go improve morale.”

In the annex, Kayla and Alyssa worked under harsh lights.  

The two children lay on clean sheets, bandaged, pale but breathing.

The old man sat nearby, face ghost-white, one hand gripping his axe.

Kayla pressed a bandage down on his arm. “You lost a lot of blood. Stay put.”

He shook his head. “No… I promised them I’d make it right.”

Alyssa’s voice softened. “They’re safe now. Let that be enough—for today.”

Outside, engines roared to life. The sound echoed through the fortress like thunder.

Reina’s voice came over comms: “Truck ready.”

> **System:** “Satellite navigation uploaded.  

>  Mission name: ‘Justice Delivery—One Way Trip.’”

Gene cracked a small, humorless smile. “You know what, System?  

That’s the best name you’ve ever picked.”

And for the first time in a long time, the Last Supplier left his fortress.