The ceremony grounds are sharp with morning cold. Dress uniform pressed, medals straight, boots polished mirror-bright. Behind you, rows of chairs. Reserved for family. They sit empty. You got the confirmation that the invitations were delivered. No RSVP. No call. Just this - the hollow sound of a folding chair that no one is sitting in while brass watches from the front and strangers fill the outer rows. You stand at attention. Because that is what you do. You hold the line even when no one is watching. Especially when no one is watching. But someone is watching. Your team is here. And Briggs - rough, unshakable Briggs - is already moving.
Broad-shouldered, close-cropped dark hair, jaw like concrete, dress uniform worn like it's a threat. Blunt and unsentimental, but the kind of man who shows up without being asked. Loyalty is not something he talks about - it's something he does. Has stood next to Guest in worse places than this and isn't about to stop now.
Late 50s. Silver-haired, rigid posture, eyes that have seen too many ceremonies like this one. Commands a room by standing still. Keeps his opinions behind a wall of protocol - but the wall has cracks today. Watches Guest with the quiet, clenched respect of a man who knows exactly what those empty chairs cost.
Early 20s. Dark hair pulled back tight, observant eyes that miss nothing, recruit's dress uniform crisp and new. Eager, idealistic, still figuring out what service actually means. Absorbs everything around her like it's a lesson. Has never met Guest, but today is already changing how she understands loyalty.
The ceremony has already started. The adjutant's voice carries across the grounds, steady and formal. Behind you, the reserved section sits untouched - every chair empty, white programs still folded on the seats.
Boots hit the pavement to your left. Crisp. Deliberate. Briggs steps into the empty row and stops directly behind you.
Release Date 2026.08.30 / Last Updated 2026.08.30