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The evening sun streamed through the windows of the aging apartment complex, casting a warm orange glow across the stone staircase. Heat radiated from the shafts of light, making Sierra-7D squint as he climbed upward. The infantryman had completed his duties for the day and was finally granted some rest after hours of seemingly pointless manual labor - work that could've easily been handled by civilian hazmat crews, if not for the fact that his team’s Ordinal, OS-7, didn’t trust citizens with transporting classified, hazardous cargo.

S-7D unlocked the front door to his quarters, the Combine-issued lock emitting a satisfied beep as he waved his hand in front of it. He kicked off his boots and let them land haphazardly by the entrance. The apartment was modest, just a single room split into two parts: a kitchenette and a bedroom. The kitchenette, tucked to the left of the doorway, was partially divided from the entryway by a low counter. Most of the appliances left behind by the unit's previous occupant went unused - after all, all his meals came pre-packaged from the Combine, leaving him little reason to cook for himself.

Sierra-7D had been living alone for weeks. His former bunkmate - Sierra-7A - seemed to have been reassigned to a different fireteam entirely, leaving 7D the sole occupant of the apartment. He had come to accept that soldiers came and went; it was simply part of life in the Combine Armed Forces. Injury or death was always a risk. While fatalities weren’t exactly common, 7D had witnessed at least two of his teammates perish. Death wasn't treated as anything more than a warning - just another reminder that a capable infantryman should never underestimate his enemies. Still, until the new recruits would come to replace the lost units, there was always a period of an odd atmosphere present in the apartment. 7D figured it was only natural for him to have feelings of melancholy living all by himself, grunts like him were never supposed to be alone, being a part of a group is a crucial part of survival.

He wandered absently around what passed for a living room, then rubbed his hands over his face, his fingers grazing the metallic plates embedded in his skull - as if the gesture could somehow scrape away the noise in his mind. But it was no use dwelling on things he couldn’t control.

S-7D turned to face the empty bed, walked over to the lower bunk, and dropped onto the thin mattress, the modest bedsheet rustling as the metal frame groaned beneath his weight. He removed the eyepatch from his augmented right eye - revealing little more than an empty socket with a few wires jutting out from within. As a transhuman, he had one of his replaced with much more efficient technology as part of his promotion. Combine eyepieces allowed for better sight, were much more durable than an actual eye and easier to maintain if anything malfunctioned. Units who have undergone enhancements to both eyes, opt out for wearing specialized masks that would cover a part of their faces, equipped with additional lenses that allowed them to see without having to wear their gas masks. S-7D was awaiting his promotion, as he could only see with one eye for the time being, he did possess auxiliary lenses, meant to aid with sight if the unit had a malfunctioning eyepiece, but the Ordinal has forbidden one-eyed units from displaying their optical modifications in public, hence why he had to cover his eye with a rudimentary piece of clothing. He rolled onto his left side and squinted with his good eye to check the time- just past 8 PM. Sierra-7D let out a quiet sigh and hummed softly to himself. The building was unusually silent. The tenants downstairs were quieter than usual, and even his next-door neighbors - APFS-7 and WHS-7 - had cut their usual banter short. Odd, but not unwelcome.

Just as sleep began to tug at him, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. They grew louder, then abruptly stopped. A brief silence, then—two knocks at his door. Sierra-7D groaned and pushed himself off the bed. He trudged toward the entrance, irritation flickering across his face. But when he opened the door and saw his Ordinal-OS-7-standing there, his demeanor changed immediately. His eye widened, his posture straightened, and he cleared his throat before acknowledging his superior. OS-7 stood in the dimly lit hallway, imposing as ever. He was a muscular man, slightly taller than 7D, and radiated an intimidating presence. His face was unreadable - partially concealed by a plate where his eyes should’ve been. In place of eyes, twin lenses glowed softly from the sockets, scanning without emotion. “Ordinal,” S-7D said stiffly, his voice edged with a faint accent betraying his nerves. He stood at attention, unsure why his superior had come to see him in person. A slow wave of anxiety crept in. He hadn’t slacked off—his assignments were complete, protocols followed, idle chatter kept to a minimum. Still, something felt off. OS-7 wouldn’t show up out of uniform just to scold him - especially not here, in his own living quarters. And yet, the silent, unblinking gaze made 7D’s skin crawl.

“Echo One Sierra-7D,” OS-7 said in his hoarse voice. “A new recruit will be joining your quarters. Your objective is to ensure the unit’s comfort and safety.” S-7D exhaled quietly through his nose, relieved. So this wasn’t a disciplinary visit after all.

“When’s he expected to arrive?” he asked, his shoulders easing slightly. OS-7 didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped back into the hallway and reached out—grabbing something, or someone, by the collar. With effortless force, he dragged a figure into view and shoved them into the apartment. Sierra-7D instinctively moved aside as the stranger stumbled past him. He glanced back at OS-7, a faint furrow forming between his brows. For a split second, he could’ve sworn the Ordinal smirked. Without a word, OS-7 produced two syringes from his pocket and handed them to 7D.

“Administer ad hoc. Report anti-social behavior,” he instructed, locking eyes with the infantryman. S-7D met the cold lenses briefly, then shifted his gaze to the man’s forehead as he nodded.

“Goodnight, Echo One Sierra-7D. Echo One Sierra-7A,” OS-7 added, leaning to the side to glance at the new recruit before turning and walking away. S-7D closed the door with a sigh, irritation seeping in. So this was the new Sierra-7A. The recruit was hunched over one of the countertops, unmoving. S-7D approached to get a better look, flipping the lights on as he did. The room filled with a harsh glow, revealing a young man with olive-toned skin - unusually smooth and untouched by the wear of service. He was shorter, too, and a bit scrawny for combat standards. S-7D gave his shoulder a light pat to get his attention. No response. The rookie swayed slightly, his head hanging low, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

“Hey.” S-7D shook his shoulder more firmly. “You alright?” Sierra-7D knew that new recruits often behaved strangely during their first days of service. Some could speak and move on their own; others shut down completely, falling into a catatonic state and staring blankly into space for days. When the young man gave no response - not even a twitch - 7D understood exactly what had happened: he’d been handed a burden no one else wanted. And now it was his job to look after the rookie while he was still in this fragile state.

He let out an annoyed groan and muttered a curse at the Ordinal in a foreign tongue as he stepped closer. Wrapping his arms around S-7A, he hoisted the limp body upright and began hauling him toward the bunk. The kid was surprisingly light - even with his boots dragging across the floor, it was nothing compared to lugging barrels full of waste. Still, 7D winced at the sight of the recruit's shoes dragging in dirt from outside onto the apartment floor. He pulled back the blankets and sat the younger man on the lower bunk, untied his boots, and tossed them near the bed. Then he gently laid him on his side and covered him with the blanket. Crouching down, 7D studied his new flatmate’s face. The skin around the embedded metal panels on his forehead was reddened and slightly swollen. He reached out, running his fingers lightly across the surface - only to pull back as S-7A let out a faint, breathless groan. S-7D noticed a sudden flicker of awareness in the rookie's eyes, as they began darting around the room in erratic, disjointed movements. It was as if he were seeing something that wasn’t there, trapped in a reality only he could perceive. Then, just as suddenly, the young man's gaze locked onto 7D’s face. The frantic scanning stopped, his eyelids drooped ever so slightly. For a brief moment, his expression shifted, he looked relieved to see another human being.