The marketplace reeked of gunpowder and blood, mingled with the metallic tang of rusted steel. Horizon's security team, armed with crude harpoon guns and laughably inaccurate homemade shotguns, was backed into a corner. Iron Fang's warriors, clad in sleek, gleaming armor and wielding modern pistols, moved like phantoms through the labyrinthine chaos. A young militiaman, face streaked with engine oil, stood defiantly to fight off the enemy, only to scream in agony as a blade sliced into his shoulder. He fell, eyes wide open in death, his makeshift spear snapped in two. Blood pooled on the steel floor, blending with oil slicks and murky seawater. The air rang with shouts and the clanging of metal—a chaotic symphony of life and death.
Suddenly, from the main corridor, the roar of automatic gunfire erupted like thunder. Black Hat's Squad 1 stormed in, five warriors in a tight V-formation, their machine guns spitting fire relentlessly. Bullets tore through the plastic armor of Iron Fang spies, dropping them like trees in a storm. "Forward!" bellowed the squad leader, a towering man with a shaved head, his gun still humming in his grip. The exhausted, bloodied Horizon militia rallied, their spirits reignited. They scavenged weapons from fallen foes—those without guns grabbed melee weapons or steel plates for shields and charged the enemy. An Iron Fang spy, face masked in black, leapt from a container roof, his dagger glinting. He locked a militiaman in a chokehold, blade pressed against the man's artery. But before he could strike, a Black Hat warrior unleashed a burst of gunfire, and the spy crumpled, blood spraying like a fountain. "Thanks!" the militiaman shouted, trembling but seizing the enemy's weapon to join the counterattack.
Elsewhere, the tension skyrocketed. Kael, Rhea, and the urban team were holding off a group of Iron Fang divers who'd infiltrated through a side gate. Rhea, blood streaming from a gash on her arm, still managed to drop an enemy with her rusty pistol. Kael, clutching the revolver Rhea had given him, crouched behind a crate, heart pounding like it might burst. "Kid, don't just stand there like a damn statue—shoot!" Rhea roared, hurling a jagged piece of metal at an oncoming diver. Kael gritted his teeth, raised the gun, and aimed at the nearest enemy. The shot missed, the bullet embedding into an oil drum, sending slick liquid spilling across the floor, shimmering under dim light. "Missed again!" Kael muttered, sweat dripping, eyes stinging from grenade smoke. Rhea shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "Aim properly!"
Right then, another Black Hat squad arrived as backup. A barrage of gunfire cut down three Iron Fang divers, their bodies collapsing in a heap, blood splattering across the steel wall. "Fall back to the barricade!" Rhea barked, yanking Kael through a narrow corridor littered with debris. The urban team and Black Hats worked together, hastily reinforcing a makeshift defense line with fishing nets, rusted oil drums, and sandbags. A scarred Black Hat warrior tossed Kael a fresh magazine. "Take it, kid. Shoot straight next time, or I'll shoot you myself," he said, half-joking, half-serious, before turning to unleash a burst at an Iron Fang spy peeking from a corner.
At the front line, things were even grimmer. Iron Fang's lightly armored combat boats, equipped with modern pistols, overwhelmed Horizon's scout team. Horizon's rickety boats, fitted with wildly inaccurate homemade guns, were nearly useless against the enemy's firepower. A scout took a bullet to the chest and fell into the sea, his blood spreading in crimson swirls, drawing circling sharks below. Just in time, Black Hat's Squad 3 swooped in from a nearby watchtower. Armed with well-maintained but old rifles, they fired precise volleys. One enemy boat took a hit, erupting in flames, black smoke coiling into the sky. "Push them back!" the Squad 3 commander roared, signaling Horizon's scouts to coordinate, using grappling hooks to capsize an enemy boat.
But on the horizon, Iron Fang's mid-sized warship loomed, its two medium-caliber cannons relentlessly pounding Horizon's main gate. Each blast shook the outpost, making rusted steel panels groan as if they might shatter. The steel wolf flag on the enemy ship's mast fluttered arrogantly, a blatant taunt. "Those bastards won't stop," a scout whispered, hands trembling as he loaded his makeshift rifle. "Are they trying to flatten Horizon?"
In the command center, Soren gripped the steel railing, eyes glued to the surveillance screen. "They've taken Tower 3," he muttered, voice thick with rage. He turned to Rhea, who'd just been urgently summoned from the water depot. She stood tall, dried blood caked on her jacket, her eyes steely but betraying exhaustion. "Rhea," Soren said, his voice low and commanding, "take an elite team and retake Tower 3. At all costs. It's our only shot at turning this around." He bent down, pulled an automatic rifle from under the desk, and handed it to her. "Take this and make them pay. Bring Sumin—he knows how to operate that cannon." He glanced at his trusted aide, a kid not even sixteen but tough as nails and mature beyond his years.
Rhea took the automatic rifle from Soren, feeling the cold weight of the metal in her calloused hands. She nodded, her gaze unwavering, though deep down she knew this mission was like charging into a wolf's den with a rusty knife. "Sumin," she called, her voice low but sharp, glancing at the kid tucked in the corner. Sumin, barely fifteen, his messy black hair slick with sweat, had eyes that burned like embers. His tattered, oversized jacket hung loosely on his scrawny frame, but his posture—shoulders squared, chin up—radiated a toughness that rivaled the seasoned Black Hat warriors. "You're with me," Rhea ordered, not waiting for a reply, then turned to Soren. "You can count on me, Soren."
Soren nodded, his eyes flickering with a mix of trust and worry. "Go," he said, his voice hoarse, gripping the steel railing so tightly his knuckles turned white. "And Rhea, don't let Sumin die."
Kael, standing in the corner, still clutching his makeshift revolver, stepped forward, his eyes resolute despite the sweat rolling down his forehead. "Rhea, let me come with you!" His voice trembled slightly—not from fear, but from a fire igniting in his chest. The tattoo on his back burned, as if urging him toward danger.
Rhea spun around, her glare as sharp as a dagger. "No," she snapped, her tone icy. "You're going to the central zone to help the militia guard the resource depot. They need bodies there."
"But I took down one of them!" Kael shot back, his voice rising, almost desperate. "I saved you at the market! I'm not some green militiaman—I can fight!" He gripped his gun tighter, stepping closer, eyes blazing. "You need people, and I'm not standing by watching Horizon fall. If you don't let me come, I'll go anyway!"
Sumin, standing beside Rhea, raised an eyebrow at Kael, a faint smirk flickering across the kid's lips, as if amused by Kael's stubbornness. Rhea, on the other hand, clenched her jaw, clearly not in the mood for arguments. She glanced at Soren, hoping he'd step in, but he just crossed his arms and shrugged, his eyes saying, Handle it yourself.
"Don't waste my time, kid," Rhea growled, but her gaze softened slightly as she caught the determination in Kael's eyes. He wasn't a seasoned fighter, but there was something in his stare—a spark that reminded her of herself when she first picked up a gun to face the enemy. "Fine," she relented, her voice still sharp as a blade. "But you stay at the back, follow my orders, and don't do anything stupid. If you die, I'm not dragging your body back."
Kael nodded, his heart pounding, a mix of relief and tension surging through him. "Thank you," he said.
Rhea didn't respond, just motioned for Sumin and Kael to follow. She strode out of the command center, leading the team toward a concealed corridor near Tower 3. Five Black Hat warriors, their steel armor gleaming, gripped automatic rifles, smoke grenades dangling at their hips. Behind them were three of Rhea's trusted scouts, grappling hooks slung across their backs, rusty pistols tucked at their sides, eyes scanning for enemies. Sumin, clutching a clinking tool bag, moved with a calm, steady stride in the middle of the formation. Kael brought up the rear, clutching his revolver with both hands, as if afraid an Iron Fang would leap out and snatch it.
"Listen up," Rhea said, halting at a corner of the corridor. She crouched and scratched a rough map of Tower 3 onto the steel floor with a broken metal shard. "Tower 3 has three entry points: main, secondary, and the technical duct. Iron Fang's likely guarding the main entrance, maybe the secondary too. The duct's our only shot—it's narrow, old, and could collapse any second, but they probably don't know about it. Main group—me, Sumin, Kael, and two Black Hats—will take the duct. The three scouts and the other Black Hats will hit the main entrance, draw their attention. Use smoke grenades, sniper fire, whatever it takes to keep them distracted."
The scarred Black Hat warrior spoke up, his voice low and gravelly. "That duct's a death trap, Rhea. If we get stuck, we're fish in a barrel. You say they probably don't know about it—is that a guess, or are you sure?"
"Gut feeling," Rhea replied with steely certainty. "Die now or die later. Anyone not up for it, speak now." Silence fell, broken only by the drip of water from the steel ceiling and the distant echo of gunfire. Kael swallowed hard, his throat dry, gripping his gun tighter but standing his ground. Sumin, eerily calm, gave a slight nod, as if this were just another technical challenge.
"Alright," Rhea stood, checking the magazine of her automatic rifle. "Scouts, ready your smoke grenades. You hit first, draw them out. We'll slip in through the back. We've got ten minutes before Iron Fang's warship fires again. Move fast!"
The scouts split off, silently advancing toward Tower 3's main entrance. Moments later, smoke grenades erupted, white clouds billowing, followed by bursts of pistol fire from both sides. Shouts and clanging metal echoed through the air. "Now!" Rhea signaled, leading the main group into the technical duct—a cramped, rusted passage reeking of engine oil and stagnant seawater. Sumin followed close behind, clutching his tool bag, his steps light and careful. Kael pressed his back against the duct's wall, trying to steady his breathing, but every sound—the creak of steel, the drip of water—made his heart lurch.
"Careful, Rhea," Sumin whispered, pointing to a loose steel panel dangling ahead. "Touch it, and the whole thing could collapse." Rhea nodded, motioning for the group to slow down. She slithered past, her movements agile, then helped Sumin and Kael through. The two Black Hat warriors, bulky in their steel armor, moved with surprising grace. They were, after all, the best of the best.
At the duct's end was a heavy steel hatch leading to Tower 3's auxiliary control room. Rhea pressed her ear against it, listening. Heavy footsteps mixed with the strange, guttural language of the Iron Fang and the clinking of metal—likely them dismantling a control panel. "Four of them, maybe more," she whispered, signaling. "Smoke grenade first, then we rush in fast. Sumin, stay back until I give the word. Kael, aim true this time."
Kael nodded, his mouth dry, breath ragged, hands aching from gripping the gun so tightly. Sumin, still eerily calm, opened his tool bag and pulled out a small electric screwdriver, ready for the control panel. A Black Hat warrior yanked the pin from a smoke grenade and tossed it through the hatch's gap. White smoke erupted, followed by the choking coughs of Iron Fang spies. "Go!" Rhea shoved the hatch open, charging out like a tempest, her automatic rifle roaring.
Gunfire tore through the air, muzzle flashes cutting through the haze. One spy dropped, a bullet lodged in his chest, blood splattering the control panel. A second, his face shielded by plastic armor, raised his pistol to fire back, but a Black Hat's shot blew his head apart, gore spraying everywhere. A third, a hulking figure wielding a machete, lunged at Rhea, aiming for her throat. She dodged, slammed her boot into his knee, and fired a round into his shoulder, sending him crashing down, screaming in pain. Kael, heart pounding, aimed at a shadowy figure in the smoke and pulled the trigger decisively. The bullet hit a spy's shoulder, knocking him back, though he didn't die. "Not bad, kid!" Rhea shouted, tossing another smoke grenade to block the entrance.
But a massive explosion from the main corridor shook the room. "They're onto us!" a Black Hat yelled, pointing toward the hallway where flashlight beams and heavy footsteps closed in. Rhea yanked Sumin into a corner, signaling him to start on the control panel. "Hurry, kid!" she barked, aiming her rifle at the door. Sumin knelt by the panel, hands deftly unscrewing bolts, eyes locked in absolute focus. "Startup code… still intact," he muttered, plugging the screwdriver into a small circuit, the screen flickering faintly.
Kael, crouched behind a metal crate, fired again, hitting another enemy in the shoulder. But the smoke thickened, and the sound of footsteps grew relentless. A Black Hat took a hit and fell, blood pooling on his steel armor, hand still clutching his gun. Rhea gritted her teeth, unleashing three bursts of gunfire, dropping two more enemies. "Sumin, how much longer?" she demanded, voice urgent.
"Two minutes," Sumin replied, sweat streaming down his forehead, hands never stopping.