Ryan-s Rescue Squad -

As the ground began to cave, as Jax lifted the boy onto his shoulders and Kael triangulated the extraction point, Ryan thought about all the people who had told him a squad like this couldn’t work. Too messy. Too emotional. Too unofficial .

Ryan pulled out a battered flare gun and loaded a green cartridge—the signal for children found. “There is no angle. We’re getting that kid out before the planet eats him.”

Behind them, the hovercraft roared to life, Mira’s voice crackling over the comm: “Thrusters green. Where do you need the pickup?” Ryan-s Rescue Squad

“Hey,” Ryan said, calm as sunrise. “I’m Ryan. This is Jax and Kael. We’re the rescue squad. You’re going to be fine.”

Ryan grinned—a small, fierce thing.

They ran into the glowing dark. Behind them, Mira’s tools sang. Ahead, the ground groaned like a dying beast.

, the muscle, kept his massive arms folded, scanning the treeline where the bioluminescent ferns were beginning to glow. “We don’t have five. The fauna here gets chatty after dark. And hungry.” As the ground began to cave, as Jax

“What’s the angle?” Jax asked. There was always an angle with Ryan.

And they always, always came.