The yacht was still there, untouched, just as Steve had left it.
"Well," Rod said, feeling relieved that it was still here. Cezar had sometimes asked him about the yacht, but Rod had always pretended he knew nothing.
When he looked at Steve, the man winked at him. "See? You're not as evil as you think you are. Come on, let's get this ship moving."
Rod examined the yacht, trying to figure out how to get it back into the water. His mind raced with possibilities, but before he could form a plan, Steve stepped up to the helm.
He took the key from his pocket, slipped it into the ignition, and turned it. The key fit perfectly. As he switched the power on, the engine hummed to life with a smooth, reassuring sound.
"Cutie, hop in! Let's get out of here!" Steve waved from the yacht.
"It's stuck between the corals," Rod pointed at the bottom of the ship.
"No worries, I think it has some tools to support it from getting stuck like this. Hold on..." Steve fiddled with the controls, trying to figure out which button he had used before.
While he worked, Rod climbed onto the yacht, drifting behind Steve, unsure of how he felt. He was approaching the point of no return. He was about to leave everything he had ever known and step into something completely unknown. How he would survive, and what awaited him on the horizon, terrified him. A shiver ran down his spine, and a feverish heat crept up his neck. However, he would rather feel this discomfort than live a life without Steve. He had tried that for months, and it had felt like hell. He didn't want to turn that experience into a lifetime.
Steve gave up trying to figure out which button he had pressed to make a couple of small wheels stick out from the bottom of the yacht to help it unstuck from the coral. He sat beside Rod.
"I can feel the gears in your brain heating up..." Steve teased, nudging Rod lightly.
Rod shrugs. "I mean, I didn't plan all this. I just wanted to give you the key and then return to the bunker. But... looking into your eyes, I just realized how much I missed you. Apparently, I ended up here...I feel good, really, just, ... nervous."
Steve placed his hand on Rod's. "you'll be alright. We'll made it, to the new world, new horizon, new life!"
Rod nods. The more he feeling Steve's vibes, the more he is ready to leave the past behind.
"By the way, did you figure out how to get unstuck?" Rod asked.
"I don't know. I kind of forgot... I don't remember what I pressed back then..." Steve scratched his head.
"Let me check...." Rod walked over to the helm and examined the buttons and controls. Everything was new to him, but then he saw a button with a circle icon and pressed it. A beeping sound rang out, the ship sounding as if it were in trouble.
Rod jumped off the yacht and looked beneath. The small wheels under the yacht were trying to release but got caught in some seaweed. He tore the seaweed apart, and finally, the beeping stopped, the wheels smoothly released.
"Rod, that's brilliant! What did you do?" Steve sounded thrilled.
But before they could celebrate, a gunshot cracked through the air.
A sharp pain tore through Rod's shoulder. He screamed, staggering as blood splattered onto the sand.
"Rod!!" Steve's voice broke with panic as he jump off the yacht and grabbed Rod, eyes wide with horror. His head snapped toward the edge of the beach, where the dense forest met the shore.
There—standing just beyond the tree line—was Cezar.
He emerged with his men, their weapons raised, the muzzles glinting as the sky began to shed its darkness.
"Thank you, Rod. Your plan worked." Cezar grinned, his voice mocking. "We finally figured out where the yacht is."
Rod's breath was ragged, pain pulsing through his shoulder, but it was nothing compared to the sheer fury boiling inside him. Because when he looked into Cezar's face, it wasn't just the man standing before him—it was every mistake he had made, every reckless decision that had led him here.
"What?!" Steve gasped, his whole body tensing as his terrified gaze darted from Rod to Cezar. His heart pounded against his ribs.
"No! Steve, he's lying! I know nothing about this! I swear!" His voice was raw, desperate, but Steve didn't answer.
Instead, Steve's hands slipped from Rod's arms, his warmth retreating like the tide pulling away from the shore. Rod could see it in his eyes—that flicker of hesitation, of doubt creeping in, poisoning everything.
Rod felt his chest tighten, a different kind of pain gnawing at him now—one far worse than the bullet wound.
Cezar's laughter rang in his ears, sharp and mocking. "Why do you think the boy was looking for you? He had a boyfriend—Charles, wasn't it? But all of a sudden, he's all over you. Isn't that strange? You really think this wasn't planned from the start?"
Rod clenched his fists, causing more blood to drip. "Don't listen to him! He's trying to mess with us!" His voice was urgent, his body moving instinctively forward—toward Steve, the one person he couldn't bear to lose.
But Steve stepped back, his body trembling with the weight of his uncertainty. Conflicted emotions flickered across his face, his green eyes clouded with hesitation. He wasn't pulling away in anger, but in fear. Fear of being deceived. Fear that Rod was no different from Cezar—that he, too, was only there to hurt him.
Steve was truly unsure. He wanted to trust Rod, but he couldn't bear to risk being hurt again. What if Cezar was right, that Rod was only pretending to win his trust, so he could sabotage his path to freedom? But the kiss, the embrace during his mental breakdown... it all felt so genuine.
Rod's voice broke through his swirling thoughts. "It's okay," he said softly, stepping back, his blood still dripping. "If you can't trust me, it's okay. But at least... go climb that yacht. Leave. Find your freedom. I want you to be free."
When Steve turned his back to re-enter the yacht, Cezar's voice cut through the tense moment like a knife.
"Shoot him! Kill them both, and destroy the ship too!" Cezar barked.
His men opened fire, the sound of bullets slicing through the air, the rhythmic barrage of gunfire echoing against the stillness of the night.
"No!!" Rod screamed, the desperation in his voice drowning out everything else. His hand shot forward instinctively, as if to block the bullets himself.
But something happened—the dragon tattoo on his chest began to glow, faint at first, then growing brighter with each passing second. It was a pulsating black light, almost like the heart of the creature itself had awakened within him.
The majestic power of the Divine Black Dragon surged through Rod in an overwhelming rush, and as his eyes narrowed, the black dragon inside him lent its strength. With a single, forceful glare, the bullets froze midair. The air around them seemed to hum with energy, the sound of the oncoming gunfire now completely silenced.
Rod's chest heaved with the intensity of the moment, but he didn't hesitate. In that same split second, he commanded the bullets, redirecting them with precision, as if the world itself bent to his will.
One by one, the bullets shifted direction, heading back toward their senders. They slammed into the soldiers who had fired upon them, piercing them with their own weapons. The screams of the men filled the air as they crumpled to the ground, one by one, their blood staining the sand.
Cezar, ever the strategist, reacted immediately. His eyes widened in surprise, but before he could even process the power Rod had just unleashed, he grabbed the nearest soldier by the collar, pulling him close as a human shield.
The lifeless soldier dangled for a moment before Cezar let the body drop, discarded like trash. The corpse landed with a dull thud against the bloodstained sand, forgotten in an instant.
Rod barely noticed. His entire body burned, not from pain but from something far greater—power. The Black Dragon fully immersed itself into his being, its energy flooding through his veins like liquid fire. His body pulsed with raw strength, muscles tightening as the bullet lodged in his shoulder was forcefully expelled. The wound sealed itself in mere seconds, leaving nothing but the faintest scar—a reminder that he was no longer just a man.
Cezar watched the transformation unfold, but instead of fear, amusement curled on his lips. His grin stretched wider as something dark flickered in his expression. Then, his body responded in kind. His crimson eyes gleamed with an unnatural glow, and a deep, burning insignia of a demon scorched itself into his forehead.
"You want to fight me, boy?" Cezar's voice carried a cruel, mocking edge, filled with fiery laughter.
He grabbed the edges of his military jacket and ripped it from his body, tossing it aside like a shed skin. Underneath, his well-chiseled muscles bulged with raw might, thick veins snaking over his arms and torso like a roadmap of power. His mere presence now carried an unnatural intensity, the heat of his energy warping the air around him.
Rod didn't waste a second. His blood surged with the dragon's primal instincts, and he lunged, charging straight at Cezar.
Like titans colliding, they met in the middle of the beach, fists swinging with devastating force. Sand exploded beneath their feet with every impact, the force of their blows shaking the very earth.
No guns. No tricks.
Just two monsters, fighting like lions in the heart of the battlefield.
"You really think you matter to him?" Cezar snarled, lunging with brutal punches aimed at Rod's face. "He's just using you to escape. You're a placeholder—weak, easy. He'll leave you the second he gets bored."
Rod ducked, his reflexes sharp, and when he get the chance, he drove his fist hard into Cezar's gut. The impact sent Cezar stumbling back, air rushing from his lungs. Rod didn't let up.
"You expect me to believe that?" Rod spat, stalking forward. "You're just a hypocrite—pretending to protect women while sleeping with anyone you want behind your wife's back."
Cezar's grin faltered, rage flickering beneath the cracks. Blood smeared his lip as he wiped it, trying to hold onto his smugness.
"What is this? Wife talk?! Haha! Leave my wife out of this!" Cezar lunged at Rod, and they both struggled on the sand.
They collided again, fists and fury, leaving no room for words.
However, Cezar, with his demonic power, managed to overpower Rod. To be honest, experience mattered. As Rod took blow after blow, the Black Dragon's power within him began to fade, leaving behind only a bloodied 18-year-old with nothing but sheer determination to keep fighting.
Enduring hit after hit, Rod waited for a chance to strike back, but the pain was excruciating, crushing his defense. After taking numerous blows, he collapsed onto the sand, blood spitting from his mouth.
Thinking Rod was done, Cezar walked past him to get to Steve. However, Rod wouldn't let him. With a surge of will, he grabbed Cezar's leg and clung to it.
"Steve, run!! Ride your freedom and get the hell out of here!" Rod screamed, veins bulging in his face.
"Get off me, you little runt!" Cezar tried to swing his leg, but Rod wouldn't let go. In desperation, he bit into Cezar's calf, forcing the General to yank off his leg and land a brutal knuckle punch to Rod's face.
Then, with a devilish grin, Cezar lifted Rod by the collar and whispered, "You need to hear him moan like a slut when my big dick loosens up his ass...he actually loves it."
Rod's rage boiled over. Despite the pain coursing through his entire body, he swiped his hands through the air, desperately trying to strike Cezar in the face. But it was futile. His target was out of reach, and with no footing beneath him, his swings were nothing but powerless gestures.
Cezar laughed hard at Rod's powerlessness, then slammed his body into the sand. The grains of sand dug into Rod's eyes, and some scraped into his open wounds. It was excruciating, but the real pain came from the knowledge that he couldn't even return a single hit to this demon.
"It's over, boy. Steve is mine!" Cezar taunted, gaining the upper hand. He locked Rod into a painful position, then grabbed his arm with intent to break the bone.
But before Cezar could succeed, Steve fired the rifle he'd been carrying since the night watch. The bullet tore through Cezar's eye, saving Rod from having his arm broken.
"Fuck! you will r---" before Cezar finish his words, Steve shots his mouth, crushing 5 of his front teeth.
Steve who had been watching the fight all along, now he knows who was lying and who was genuine. He kneels in front of Rod and help him walk.
"My hero," he praised with gentle voice, a little teasing on Rod, but half of it, it's genuine gratitude.
"Why did you still here? You should've left while I'm holding him off...." Rod limped as he walk to the yacht.
"If I did that, means he was right; I'm only using you," then Steve look back at Rod with gentle smile, "but have to be honest, it's hard to see you endures those hits."
Rod is feeling ashamed, he wish he was stronger so it doesn't looked embarrassing in front of the one who mean the world to him.
To ensure their escape was secure, as Rod started the yacht to sail away, Steve aimed at Cezar, who was struggling to move and growling at them. With a calm precision, Steve fired a shot that struck Cezar's forehead. The impact sent him crashing to the sand, lifeless. Blood spilling in a gruesome bath.
He is stop moving at all.
The yacht sailed away in peace.
Once inside the cabin, Steve tended to Rod's wounds, carefully cleansing them from sand with warm water and alcohol, before stitching up the torn skin.
"You really wore your body out. You'll die out of love if you keep this up. You're lucky it was me. What if someone you were protecting was actually using you? I don't get why you think sacrificing yourself for love is romantic. Do you want me to die so you can live?" Steve nagged as he tend Rod's bruises.
"No," Rod responded briefly.
"Think about yourself a little," Steve continued, still nagging. "I don't need you to sacrifice for me. I want to be happy with you, exploring the world together as two curious souls."
Rod grinned, placing his finger on Steve's chin and gently lifting it so their eyes met. "Look where I am now?"
There was no burden, no hardship, no stress—just freedom, as free as Rod's smile.
"I'm right by your side, with you caring about me..... It's worth all the broken ribs," Rod murmured softly, his gaze filled with love as he stared into Steve's eyes.
Steve caressed Rod's hair before leaning in to kiss his lips.
He embraced Rod's body and felt his heat—it was sweaty and sandy, but it didn't matter; they were safe now, embracing the new world in the unknown. With the lover by his side, he fears nothing.