The caravan moved slowly across the cracked roads, dust trailing behind like ghosts of the fallen. The sun beat down on the battered Forun convoy as they pressed on toward Hill City—tired, wounded, but not broken.
Asa stood atop a bluff, his cloak rippling in the wind, staring into the horizon. The distant mountains shielded Hill City behind them, but news from the rear had finally caught up.
Mora rode up fast, dismounting with grim purpose. Her face was worn, her eyes dim.
"They've taken Sector 12," she said plainly. "The report is confirmed."
Asa didn't move.
Mora continued, voice low. "Too many dead. Civilians caught in the crossfire. No word on Zeke or Gad. Nothing."
Several nearby fighters turned toward Asa, expecting his response.
"Do we turn back?" Mora asked softly. "Try to find them?"
A long silence passed. Then Asa spoke.
"We don't abandon the living to mourn the missing. Gad and Zeke knew the risk. We honor them by finishing what we started." His gaze remained fixed on the road ahead. "We take Hill City."
Mora gave a solemn nod. "Understood."
With that, Asa turned from the bluff and walked back toward the heart of the convoy—every step forward pulling the rebellion deeper into Greenland territory.
---
Far behind enemy lines, at the heart of Greenland's iron grip, Jimi stepped into the open military yard behind the capital barracks.
He was only here because of the assignment Captain Tade had personally given him: protect Didi, the General's daughter. Today, she had insisted on visiting her brother.
Jimi walked beside her silently, doing his duty.
But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw next.
There in the center of the yard—chained under the open sun, his skin torn and blistered, his head barely upright—was Zeke.
His brother.
Time seemed to stop.
Jimi's body locked up. His mouth went dry. His legs threatened to give out. But Zeke… Zeke lifted his head with effort, meeting Jimi's gaze without surprise. No shock. No questions. Just quiet, piercing understanding.
They held the look for a heartbeat too long.
Jimi clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay composed.
"Something wrong?" Didi asked gently, turning toward him.
Jimi blinked and shook his head. "Just tired," he murmured, voice thin.
Didi watched him more closely now, but before she could say more, Captain Tade arrived, flanked by soldiers.
"Took you long enough, Didi," he said with his usual dry grin, then turned toward the prisoner. "Still not talking, huh?"
He studied Zeke for a moment, then motioned to a nearby soldier. "Give him water. We need him alive a little longer."
Jimi didn't wait. "Let me."
Tade raised a brow. "You sure?"
"I'm already here."
"Fine," the captain said dismissively. "Make it quick."
Jimi took the flask and crossed the yard, every step burning with pain he couldn't show. He knelt beside Zeke, lifting the water to his cracked lips.
Zeke drank slowly, each swallow labored.
Jimi leaned in close and whispered, voice trembling, "I'll get you out of this. I promise."
But Zeke shook his head, barely.
No.
Not this time.
His eyes told Jimi the truth: there was no escape from the tiger's claw he was trapped in. Any attempt would only make things worse—for Jimi, for everyone.
Jimi's heart fractured.
Didi stood back, watching everything. She couldn't hear the words, but she saw the way Jimi's hands trembled. The pain in his eyes. The careful way he held the flask. She knew then—this was more than duty.
She said nothing.
Not yet.
Captain Tade remained unaware, chatting casually with a soldier nearby. But Didi's gaze never left Jimi.