Nancy and her mother stood frozen in the hallway, their eyes glued to the television screen as the news unfolded in real time. Their breaths stopped with every update from the reporters broadcasting live from the scene of the rogue attack. Fear tightened in their chests, their hearts pounding as they watched the city unravel before their eyes.
The news helicopters circled above the devastation, capturing a sweeping view of the Ruling Party's district. The footage showed the smoldering wreckage of a crashed chopper, a disaster that had nearly brought down an entire glass skyscraper. Once a beacon of the city's prosperity and a prime tourist attraction, the district now lay in ruins—a haunting reminder of history in the making.
From their home, Nancy and her mother could see faint plumes of smoke rising in the distance, a grim confirmation that the destruction was not just something happening on a screen but in the very heart of their City. Terror gripped them, not only for the countless citizens still trapped in the chaos but also for Tyson. Was he out there? Was he safe? The uncertainty gnawed at them, and with each passing moment, the weight of helplessness grew heavier.
Nancy dialed Tyson's number again, but there was no response. Her hands trembled as she tried once more, desperation tightening her grip on the phone.
Her mother stepped forward, gently holding her, steadying her as her knees threatened to give way.
"He's there… maybe hurt," Nancy whispered, her voice shaking. "He was supposed to protect Sera."
"Honey," her mother said softly, squeezing her shoulders. "He'll be fine… He's strong."
"Please Tyson be safe" She mumbled again as she watched the news.
The news reporter shouted into the camera, struggling to capture a clear view of what now looked like a battlefield amidst the wreckage. Smoke and dust filled the air as panicked citizens ran in every direction. Officials rushed to escort the wounded and evacuate those still trapped in the danger zone.
"The Rangers have begun arriving at the scene!" the reporter called out, his voice strained with urgency. "Now, our forces will take out the rogues in one fell swoop!"
The camera zoomed in as armored Rangers stormed the area—some helping injured civilians, while others clashed with the rogues near the building's entrance. Blasts and gunfires echoed through the streets as chaos unfolded live on screen.
Inside their homes, terrified families huddled together, watching the broadcast with bated breath. Some clutched their phones, trying to reach loved ones. In the city streets, onlookers gasped and screamed as explosions shook the ground, their faces reflecting the sheer horror of witnessing their home turn into a war zone.
From above, the news helicopter captured everything—every desperate escape, every battle, every moment of fear—broadcasting the unfolding nightmare to the entire city.
"We've just received confirmation that the President's daughter and the First Lady are secure," the reporter announced, raising his voice over the deafening noise of sirens, gunfire, and shouting officers. His fellow journalists scrambled to get updates, their voices overlapping in the chaos.
He turned to an officer on duty, who was barking orders to keep civilians and reporters behind the safety line. But the situation was too frantic to maintain order.
"Move! This is a danger zone!" the officer snapped, frustration clear in his voice.
Still, the reporter pressed on, shoving a microphone forward. "Can you tell us what really happened? Just a hint, sir—people want to know!"
The officer exhaled sharply, clearly reluctant to speak. "We have everything under control," he finally said. "For now, stay inside your homes. We're still assessing their objective."
The reporter latched onto that response. "What do you mean? Isn't their goal to get the President?"
"Yes, but with the President secure, they'll shift tactics," the officer admitted. "Now, they'll try to create chaos elsewhere—and that's what we need to prevent."
As he spoke, he turned to his squad, barking orders to keep everyone behind the perimeter, ensuring no one trespassed into the war zone.
---
"What happened to the no-kill policy?" Blue groaned, shifting atop the now-flattened vehicle as he struggled to stand. "Aren't we supposed to keep things in line?"
Everyone knew the Rangers refrained from killing rogues. Their mission had always been to arrest rebels and bring them to justice, ensuring they faced the appropriate punishment for their crimes from civilian courts.
Tyson scoffed, his body tense with anger as he pushed himself up from the ground. "In line? Are you freaking serious?" His eyes burned with disbelief. "You attacked the President and still think you have any right to talk about rules?"
This wasn't like anything he'd seen before. The rogues had always been troublemakers—looting banks, stealing advanced tech, stirring chaos—but this? This was different. This was war.
"Hah! Listen to yourself, Tyson," Blue huffed. "You sound like some self-righteous hero—"
His words were cut short by a deafening roar.
Both of them turned just in time to see a helicopter plummeting toward the building beside them. Their eyes widened as the massive machine slammed into the structure, the impact sending a shockwave through the air. Glass and metal burst outward, raining down in deadly shards.
Instinct kicked in. Tyson and Blue barely managed to stumble back, dodging the collapsing wreckage as a fireball erupted into the sky.
Tyson's breath stopped. His voice came out low, almost disbelieving. "What have you done?"
"I did nothing!" Blue snapped, frustration flashing across his face. "Stop blaming me for everything!"
"Aren't you part of this?" Tyson shot back, his anger boiling over. "Right? You guys never take responsibility—for anything!"
Before Blue could respond, another explosion erupted from the wreckage, sending dust and debris flying. The force of the blast made Tyson shield his eyes, his heart hammering.
Through the thick, choking smoke, Blue stood frozen. His hands clenched, his breathing uneven.
But it wasn't the destruction that caught Tyson's attention. It was the hesitation in Blue's stance.
For the first time, Blue wasn't just reacting—he was truly staring at the destruction they had caused.
"You guys have gone too far," Tyson exhaled, his voice heavy with anger and disbelief.
Blue remained silent. He had no response—because deep down, he knew Tyson was right. They had crossed the line.
But in his mind, it wasn't without reason. If their plan succeeded, if everything fell into place, then Tyson—and the world—would finally understand. They weren't doing this for chaos. They were doing it to expose the truth; to make the President answer for his crimes and accept them into society.
The world needed to see how corrupt his government was. How he had imprisoned those who refused to fall in line with the Rangers. How he had treated the rogues not as people, but as threats.
The President had to answer for the silent screams, the suffering, the blood they had spilled just to be in control. For the pain they endured simply because they refused to let another faction take roots and until that truth came to light, Blue couldn't afford to waver.
A figure stood atop the rooftop of a nearby building, silhouetted against the smoke-filled sky. Blue lifted his head.
Coco.
The leader of Rogue stood motionless for a moment, surveying the wreckage before him—the shattered glass, the burning ruins, the chaos that had unfolded. Then, his voice tore through the air like a battle cry.
"Rogues! Our time has come! Rise and fight for our Rights!"
His command echoed across the battlefield, ringing in the ears of everyone present.
"Let's show them who we really are"
From the shadows, movement erupted. The civilians who had been watching from the sidelines—the ones who had seemed like mere onlookers—suddenly sprang into action. Armor unfolded over their bodies in a seamless transformation, revealing their true allegiance.
The rogues, who had been lurking in the shadows, waiting for their leader's signal, now emerged in full force. One by one, they stepped forward—dozens at first, then nearly a hundred. Within seconds, their sheer numbers became overwhelming, shifting the tide of battle in an instant. The Rangers, who had been in control just moments ago, now found themselves outnumbered and outmaneuvered.
In the distance, the news reporters fell silent. Their once-frantic commentary faded into stunned disbelief. Cameras zoomed in, capturing the impossible: the rogues dominating the battlefield, their presence eclipsing the Rangers. A hushed murmur spread among the news crews.
"Where the hell is our General?" one of them whispered—a question that was now on everyone's mind.
There was no response from the other side of the city. The only thing they knew for certain was that an explosion had erupted there at the same time. But unlike here, all communications had been cut off—jammed by an external force. It was too coordinated to be a coincidence. Someone had deliberately isolated the General, ensuring chaos would reign unchecked.
Tyson clenched his fists, his pulse hammering in his ears.
Suddenly, the Lieutenant burst out of the building, his voice sharp and urgent. "Retreat! Fall back inside!"
Tyson turned, spotting the Rangers signaling each other to retreat toward the building where the President and many civilians were being safeguarded.
Then, another shift—the arrival of the rogues' leader.
The moment Coco stepped forward, the entire battlefield changed. The Rangers, already outnumbered, found themselves at a standstill, unable to break free from the deadlock. The balance of power had tipped dangerously in the rogues' favor.
"Sergeant!" Shaun's voice cut through the chaos as he waved from near the building. "Get over here, now!"
Tyson's gaze flickered to Blue, who was still frozen, staring at the unfolding destruction. For a brief moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, Blue exhaled sharply. "I hope no one dies" His voice was quiet, unsure, carrying an emotion Tyson couldn't quite place.
Tyson didn't have time to respond.
The battlefield was no longer just a fight.
It had become a war zone.