The reclaimed airfield at the MOA Complex buzzed with anticipation. Phillip, known by his callsign Shadow 0-1, stood at attention alongside his ten-man Special Operations unit. Each soldier, designated from Shadow 2 to Shadow 11, was clad in advanced combat gear, their faces obscured by tactical visors reflecting the early morning sun.
The growl of an approaching JLTV broke the stillness. The vehicle rolled across the tarmac, tires spitting dust as it came to a stop ten meters in front of the team. The doors opened.
Thomas Estaris stepped out.
He wore a black Overwatch field coat, collar up, no armor on him—just command. His eyes scanned the line of soldiers without a word.
Phillip snapped to attention.
"Sir."
The rest of Shadow Team followed in unison.
Thomas returned the salute with a firm nod. "At ease."
They relaxed, but only just. Phillip stepped forward.
