"My mother once told me the tale of Achilles."
Theodore's gaze remained fixed upon the battlefield.
"The greatest warrior of the Greeks. A hero whose name survived long after his death."
Smoke drifted across the burning skyline of Borgia.
"As a child, I dreamed of becoming someone like him."
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
"Though I've come to learn that ambition is a dangerous thing."
Below him, the city burned.
The bombardment continued without pause as artillery fire illuminated the horizon. Soldiers surged through the streets while flames devoured entire districts.
Theodore listened.
The screams.
The gunfire.
The explosions.
To most men, it was hell.
To Theodore, it was silence.
It drowned out everything else.
The memories.
The loneliness.
The noise within.
"Central flank!" Theodore shouted.
The soldiers immediately straightened.
"Hold your positions! Drive back every remaining colonial soldier!"
The battle intensified.
Meanwhile, deep within the southern forest, Claire and her soldiers remained hidden amongst the dense undergrowth.
The enemy battalion struggled through the uneven terrain. Their horses stumbled while attempting to cross the river.
Claire waited.
Patiently.
Quietly.
Then she raised her hand.
"Now."
Her voice cut through the forest.
"ATTACK!"
Gunfire erupted from every direction.
The colonial battalion froze in confusion.
Bullets tore through the ranks before they could organize a defense.
The ambush was swift.
Brutal.
Effective.
Within minutes, the battalion collapsed.
The surviving soldiers attempted to retreat, only to be cut down by Claire's advancing forces.
"Theodore predicted their movements perfectly," one soldier muttered.
Claire said nothing.
The victory felt hollow.
Far to the north, Jack launched his assault.
Major John's forces were caught completely off guard.
The sheer size of the attacking force shattered their formation.
"Retreat!" Major John roared.
The battlefield descended into chaos.
"We can't hold them!"
His officers scrambled to regroup the soldiers.
But it was too late.
The encirclement was complete.
"Damn it…" John cursed. "There has to be another way."
Jack spurred his horse forward.
"Luis!"
A young officer rode beside him.
"Take one hundred men and pursue Major John."
Luis nodded.
"And you, sir?"
Jack looked toward the smoke rising from the center of the battlefield.
"I'm heading to Theodore."
"Understood."
The two men split apart.
Moments later, a messenger arrived before Theodore's command post.
"Captain Lee!"
The soldier struggled to catch his breath.
"The southern ambush was successful. Claire eliminated the enemy battalion."
Theodore nodded.
"And the north?"
"Jack has broken through the enemy lines. Major John is retreating."
Theodore remained silent for a moment.
Then he spoke.
"Victory is not secured until Major John is dead."
Elsewhere, Major John rode desperately across the battlefield.
Blood poured from several wounds.
Ahead, he spotted what appeared to be his own battalion.
Relief washed over him.
"Finally!"
He raised his hand.
"Support the retreat!"
The soldiers turned.
Rifles were raised.
John's eyes widened.
A single terrifying realization struck him.
They weren't his men.
They were Theodore's.
Gunfire erupted.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
BANG.
John screamed as bullets tore through his arm and shoulder.
He nearly fell from his horse.
Miles away, Theodore lowered his rifle.
"I gave the order."
His voice was cold.
"Any obstacle to our victory shall be removed."
The officers around him remained silent.
The battle continued to rage.
Hours turned into days.
For two relentless days, the siege consumed Borgia.
The city was reduced to ruins.
Thousands lay dead.
Theodore himself was struck by a bullet during the fighting.
The round pierced his shoulder.
Pain shot through his body.
Yet he barely reacted.
He had accumulated enough scars to stop counting long ago.
One more changed nothing.
Claire finally arrived with reinforcements from the south.
Jack's forces converged from the north.
The colonial army found itself surrounded on every side.
There was no escape.
No reinforcements.
No hope.
As Theodore rose from the blood-soaked earth, he looked across the battlefield.
The city was gone.
The people were gone.
Only smoke remained.
Who would remember them?
The question drifted through his mind.
Then he laughed.
A hollow.
Broken laugh.
The sound of war echoed around him.
And for the first time in days…
The noise inside his head disappeared.
"Victory…" Theodore whispered.
Then he raised his sword.
"Victory has been decided."
The remaining colonial soldiers threw down their weapons one after another.
The war was over.
It had never truly been theirs to win.