Chapter Content
Kian leaned in for a closer look. Indeed, the man was beyond help. Shrapnel had severed the femoral artery; he had bled out into the mud long ago. His soul belonged to the Golden Throne now.
Kian moved to the next man, who was clutching a mangled arm and howling. Kian checked the wound—messy, but the bleeding was sluggish. He ignored the man's cries, classifying him as "Light Damage," and pushed deeper into the med-shack toward the critical cases.
He stopped before the third man. This one was a ruin. A high-explosive fragment had raked across his midsection, opening a jagged cavern in his abdomen. His intestines were spilled across the blood-stained straw, mixed with waste from a ruptured bowel.
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