Ryan-s Rescue Squad -

When they found the boy—no older than seven, trembling on a crumbling pillar of dirt—Ryan dropped to his belly and reached down.

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

, 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.” When they found the boy—no older than seven,

But as the hovercraft’s belly hatch opened and the boy laughed—actually laughed—at the rush of wind, Ryan knew the truth. the hovercraft roared to life

“Directly below us. And Mira? Make it fast.”

Ryan grinned—a small, fierce thing.

The boy’s eyes were wide, but he reached up.