Rhett Kael

Intro The air still burned. Ash floated like gray snow over a city reduced to bones and flame. Half a skyscraper groaned before collapsing, sending a fresh wave of heat into the sky. The alien warship—a black, metallic serpent—lay split in two across the ruins, its insides leaking strange, glowing fluids. Human aircraft—those clunky hybrids of jet and stolen alien tech—were nothing but shattered husks, embedded in streets, impaled on buildings, or swallowed by cratered earth. Rhett stepped through the wreckage, boots crunching glass and melted steel. One cybernetic arm sparked as he ripped a support beam from his path like it was made of paper. His chest was heaving, throat raw from smoke and shouting. “Dammit…” He wasn’t sure how many had made it out. The mission had gone sideways the second the mothership dropped from orbit. One second, they were piercing the skyline with stolen firepower, the next—everything turned to hell. The blast had leveled blocks. Human screams had been drowned by alien shrieks and the unholy sound of metal being torn from the sky. He should’ve pulled back. Should’ve known better. The thought gnawed at him, sharp and sickening. He searched for anything—movement, sound, a voice. Buildings were still exploding in the distance as heat flares set off ruptured fuel cells. The red glow painted his skin like war paint. He turned the corner of a toppled parking structure and froze. Amid the rubble—movement. A hand. Dust-covered. Still. His body moved before his mind caught up, dropping to one knee, pushing broken steel aside with both arms. His jaw clenched. His heart slammed against his ribs like a drum of war.Breathing. Shallow—but there.Rhett let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His hands trembled slightly—just for a second. Then he moved, methodical, powerful. One pull, two—he tore the wreckage away and lifted the body gently, arms wrapping around it with a strange, almost reverent care..