The battlefield was a storm of chaos. Gunfire cracked through the night, metal clashed against metal, and the screams of the dying echoed through the ruined halls of the facility. The air was thick with the stench of blood and burning flesh.
Jaxon led his squad with ruthless precision, cutting through Collaway's soldiers like a blade through silk. Andrew was just as relentless on the other side, moving like a phantom in the shadows, striking down enemies with a cold efficiency.
Celeste and Christy tore through the facility's core, freeing prisoners while leaving behind a trail of bodies. Some of the freed captives had picked up weapons, fighting back with the fury of those who had nothing left to lose.
In the distance, Rina and Eric continued their cyber assault, disabling defenses, scrambling enemy communications, and ensuring their people had the upper hand. But it was a war, and no war was ever simple.
Collaway had released his elite forces—mercenaries who had been bred for combat, killers who knew nothing but death. The tide of battle swayed, and suddenly, the mission became one of survival.
But none of that mattered to Aster.
Because he had one goal.
Collaway.
---
Aster moved like a shadow, slipping through the battlefield, his bloodstained knife clutched in his grip. The others had their war to fight. But this—this was personal.
He found him deep within the facility, standing in the remnants of what had once been an office, now nothing more than shattered glass and broken walls. The only light came from the fire raging outside, flickering through the windows, casting eerie shadows across the room.
Collaway turned as if he had been expecting him.
For a long moment, neither spoke. They just stared.
It was like looking into a mirror—one older, one younger. The same sharp eyes, the same strong jawline, the same unshakable presence.
Collaway smirked. "Took you long enough."
Aster didn't lower his knife. "I was busy."
Collaway chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. "Of course. Always running off, playing hero, thinking you can escape what you are."
Aster's grip on his blade tightened. "And what exactly am I?"
Collaway's expression hardened. "You're my son."
Aster's jaw clenched. "No. You're just the bastard who ruined my life."
Collaway sighed, as if disappointed. "Is that what you tell yourself? That Westwood was better? That I'm the villain in your story?" He took a slow step forward. "Do you think they'll ever accept you, Aster? Jaxon? Celeste? Rea? You think they don't see you as a monster?"
Aster forced himself to stay still. "I don't care what they see me as."
Collaway tilted his head. "Then why are you shaking?"
Aster hadn't even realized his fingers were trembling. He forced them to still.
"I'm not scared of you."
Collaway smirked. "Of course you are."
Aster's knife flashed.
Collaway dodged.
The fight began.
---
Aster lunged, his blade slicing through the air, but Collaway was faster. He sidestepped, countering with a brutal elbow to Aster's ribs. The impact sent Aster stumbling back, but he recovered instantly, twisting and bringing his knife up in a sharp arc.
Collaway caught his wrist, twisting sharply. Aster hissed as pain shot through his arm, but he didn't let go of his weapon. Instead, he used the momentum to drive his knee into Collaway's stomach.
Collaway grunted but barely faltered. Instead, he responded with a savage punch to Aster's face, sending him crashing into the debris.
Blood dripped from Aster's mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.
Collaway smirked. "Come on, son. You can do better than that."
Aster's eyes darkened. He launched himself forward.
The fight turned brutal—punches, kicks, blades clashing in the dim light. They moved like two forces of nature, locked in a dance of violence, neither giving an inch.
Collaway was stronger, more experienced. But Aster was faster.
And he was angry.
Collaway swung—Aster ducked.
Aster slashed—Collaway blocked.
Aster feinted left, then twisted, bringing his knife down in a deadly arc—
And this time, he hit his mark.
The blade sank deep into Collaway's chest.
Collaway gasped, his eyes widening in shock. Blood bubbled at his lips. But he didn't fall. Not yet.
Aster, breathing hard, pressed the knife in deeper, twisting it. "This is for every life you destroyed."
Collaway's lips curled into a weak smile. "You think… this changes anything?"
Aster's eyes narrowed.
Collaway's arm moved.
Aster barely registered the flash of the gun before the pain exploded through his stomach.
A shot rang out.
Aster staggered, his breath hitching.
Collaway coughed, blood spilling down his chin. He gave a weak chuckle. "Like father, like son."
Aster didn't hesitate. He ripped the blade from Collaway's chest—
And stabbed him again.
This time, the light in Collaway's eyes faded.
His body crumpled to the ground.
Aster stood over him, panting, blood seeping from his stomach. His legs wobbled. His vision blurred.
The gun slipped from his fingers.
Then he collapsed.
---
Meanwhile, outside…
Jaxon's squad was barely holding the line. The elite soldiers were relentless, pushing them back with heavy firepower. Andrew fought beside him, taking down enemy after enemy, but the numbers weren't in their favor.
Christy let out a sharp curse as she reloaded. "We're getting cornered here!"
Celeste, slicing through another attacker, shouted, "We have to push through!"
The facility was in flames. The battle raged on.
But none of them knew.
None of them knew that in the darkness, Aster lay bleeding.
None of them knew that Collaway was dead.
And none of them knew that by the time they reached him…
It might be too late.