The first explosion ripped through the silence like a scream.
The walls of the outpost shook, sending dust raining from the ceiling. The old rail station groaned under the impact, metal beams straining as another blast followed. Ezra hit the ground instinctively, covering his head. Kai was already moving—fast, precise, composed amid the chaos. Jace ducked behind a crate, rifle in hand.
"Positions!" Kai barked, voice cutting through the roar.
Ezra scrambled to his feet, adrenaline surging hot in his veins. Through the shattered window, he could see flashes of light slicing through the trees—muzzle flares. Dozens of them. The Syndicate wasn't playing anymore.
Jace cursed under his breath. "They've got us boxed in. Front and back."
Kai's eyes darted toward the steel door. "We hold until I say otherwise. Ezra—stay low. Follow my lead."
Ezra grabbed a sidearm from the table. "I'm not hiding this time."
Kai's gaze flicked to him—sharp, dangerous, proud. "Then don't miss."
Outside, the forest erupted in a storm of gunfire. Bullets tore through the windows, splintering wood and glass. Jace fired back, his shots deliberate and clean. He grinned tightly between bursts. "Well, boys, looks like we're popular again!"
"Less talking, more shooting," Kai snapped.
Ezra took a breath and peeked through the broken window. Figures moved in the treeline—dark shapes in tactical gear, ghostlike and fast. He raised his gun, squeezed the trigger. One fell. Then another.
The recoil jolted through his arms, but he didn't stop. Each shot was fueled by fear, anger, and something deeper—something that had been festering since the night he learned the truth about Kai.
Kai moved like a storm—no hesitation, no mercy. His precision was terrifying, almost inhuman. Every motion was calculated, every breath controlled. Ezra couldn't look away.
Another explosion shook the back wall. Jace ducked, swearing loudly. "They've got grenades now—hell, they're not even trying to take us alive!"
Kai reloaded smoothly. "They were never going to."
Ezra turned to him, voice sharp. "Then why fight?"
Kai's answer came without pause. "Because running only delays the inevitable."
Something inside Ezra cracked. "You don't get to decide that for all of us!"
Kai froze. For the first time, his control wavered. His eyes softened, just a fraction. "You're right."
The admission was quiet, almost lost under the gunfire.
But it was real.
He stepped closer, close enough that Ezra could see the thin streak of blood running down his temple. "You want to live? Then fight with me. Not against me."
Ezra's throat went dry. The tension between them—raw and electric—felt like it could burn the air. He nodded once, jaw tight. "Then let's end this."
Jace rolled his eyes. "Finally. Lovers reunited in the apocalypse."
"Jace," Kai said without looking back, "cover the south entrance."
"On it," Jace muttered, moving toward the back door. "Just don't get too sentimental up here."
The assault intensified.
The Syndicate had them surrounded. Bullets sang through the air, shredding walls and memories alike. Ezra moved from cover to cover, firing when he could, counting every shot. His ears rang; his hands ached. Still, he didn't stop.
Kai was relentless—efficient, brutal, methodical. He didn't waste motion. Didn't waste life. Ezra found himself drawn to the rhythm of it—the way Kai fought not like a soldier, but like a man trying to outrun his own past.
Between bursts of gunfire, their eyes met again. No words. Just understanding.
Jace's voice cut through the comm. "We've got movement in the tunnels! Two, maybe three—they're trying to flank."
Kai's head snapped up. "Hold position. I'll intercept."
"I'll go," Ezra said.
Kai frowned. "No."
"You said to fight with you," Ezra countered. "That means I don't sit this one out."
A muscle in Kai's jaw tightened. Then—reluctantly—he nodded. "Stay close."
They slipped through a narrow passage that led to the tunnels beneath the old rail station. The air was thick, damp, heavy with dust and fuel. The faint echo of footsteps bounced off the concrete walls.
Ezra's pulse thundered in his ears.
Kai signaled for silence, crouching low. He raised his gun, scanning the shadows. Ezra mirrored him, finger tight on the trigger.
Then—movement.
Two Syndicate soldiers appeared at the far end of the tunnel. Kai fired first, hitting one clean in the shoulder. Ezra took the second with a shot that rang louder than it should have.
Silence followed.
Ezra exhaled shakily. "Two down."
Kai's hand brushed his shoulder briefly—a silent acknowledgement. "You're getting better."
Ezra gave a humorless smile. "I had a good teacher."
They started back toward the main room, but before they could reach the stairs, the floor trembled.
A third explosion.
This one closer.
Jace's voice crackled over the radio, panicked for once. "They're breaching the front wall! I can't hold them alone!"
Kai and Ezra broke into a run. When they burst into the main room, chaos greeted them—smoke, fire, gunfire. Jace was pinned behind an overturned table, bleeding from his arm, still firing with grim precision.
Kai grabbed a grenade from his belt, yanked the pin, and hurled it toward the doorway. The blast sent a shockwave through the room, scattering the Syndicate soldiers outside.
For a moment—just a heartbeat—they had breathing space.
Jace slumped against the wall, wincing. "Remind me to never follow you two into another deathtrap."
Kai crouched beside him, quickly wrapping a strip of fabric around his wound. "You'll live."
"Yeah, but my fashion sense won't recover," Jace muttered through clenched teeth.
Ezra smiled despite the chaos. "Still cracking jokes. You're fine."
Jace smirked weakly. "Don't flatter me, sweetheart."
Kai stood, scanning the perimeter. "We can't hold this place. They'll push again in minutes."
"Then where do we go?" Ezra asked.
Kai hesitated. "There's an access shaft behind the generator. Leads to the ridge."
"Escape route?" Jace asked.
Kai shook his head. "No. Advantage point."
Ezra frowned. "You mean to fight from higher ground?"
"Exactly," Kai said. "They expect us to run. So we do the opposite."
Ezra studied him for a long second. "You're insane."
Kai's lips curved faintly. "And yet you're still here."
They moved fast.
The tunnel to the ridge was narrow, pitch-dark except for the flicker of firelight from behind them. Ezra's lungs burned, every step echoing in the confined space. When they finally emerged, the forest stretched wide before them—bathed in moonlight and smoke.
Below, Syndicate troops regrouped near the outpost ruins. They were methodical, efficient, readying for another assault.
Kai knelt beside a fallen log, setting up his rifle. "We thin their numbers. Draw them away from the tunnels."
Ezra dropped beside him, checking his weapon. Jace took position further down the ridge, reloading with one good hand. "You know, I never thought I'd die on a scenic hilltop. Kind of poetic."
Kai ignored him, eyes fixed on the enemy below. "Wait for my mark."
The seconds stretched long.
Then—Kai whispered, "Now."
They opened fire.
The first volley hit hard—three down, then five. The Syndicate scrambled for cover, disoriented. Kai and Ezra moved like clockwork—covering, reloading, firing again. Each shot felt like a heartbeat, each breath a countdown.
Then the return fire started.
Bullets ripped through the trees, tearing bark and soil. Ezra ducked low, adrenaline spiking. Kai shifted closer, shielding him instinctively.
"Stay down," he hissed.
Ezra's voice trembled with anger. "You can't protect me from everything."
Kai's eyes flashed. "Watch me."
A bullet grazed his shoulder—blood, sharp and immediate. Ezra's breath hitched. "Kai!"
"I'm fine," Kai said through clenched teeth, pressing a hand to the wound. "Keep shooting."
But Ezra wasn't fine. Something inside him snapped—the fear, the love, the fury—it all crashed together. He raised his gun and fired until the clip clicked empty.
The forest went silent again.
Smoke drifted between the trees. Below, the Syndicate was retreating—regrouping, maybe, but for now, gone.
Kai sat back, breath ragged. Ezra turned to him, panic flooding his chest. "You're bleeding."
Kai gave a tired half-smile. "I've had worse."
Ezra's throat tightened. He reached out, pressing his hand over Kai's. "You're an idiot."
"Probably," Kai murmured.
Their eyes met, the chaos fading into something quieter—fragile, dangerous, real.
Jace's voice broke the moment. "Hate to ruin the vibe, but we've got movement again—north side. Trucks this time."
Kai's expression hardened. "Then it's not over."
He stood, blood still dripping from his shoulder, gaze locked on the horizon where headlights glowed faintly through the trees.
Ezra rose beside him, gun steady, resolve even steadier. "Then neither are we."
Kai looked at him, something almost like a smile ghosting across his face. "Good."
The night swallowed the rest of their words, carrying only the sound of engines and the promise of another fight.