The gunshot shattered the night.

Esteban’s smirk twisted into a snarl as he stumbled backward, clutching his shoulder where the bullet had torn through flesh. His pistol slipped from his grip, clattering onto the cobblestone street.

Jamie gasped for breath, her ribs aching from his brutal kicks. She turned her head, vision swimming, and saw Maria standing there, revolver in hand.

Carlos’s wife had never held a gun in battle before. Her hands trembled around the rusted weapon, the barrel still smoking. But her dark eyes were steady, burning with quiet fury.

“Stay away from my family,” Maria spat.

Esteban cursed, pressing a hand to his wound. He studied her for a moment, weighing his options. His men were still scattered in the fight, and he was bleeding badly. He couldn’t win this right now.

He took a step back, then another. Then, with a low growl of frustration, he turned and disappeared into the shadows.

Jamie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Her entire body ached, but she forced herself upright. Blood still trickled from her lips, but she managed a shaky smile.

“You saved my life,” Jamie whispered.

Maria lowered the revolver, her hands still shaking. “You would’ve done the same.”

Before she could say more, Carlos came running. His rifle was still clutched in his hands, but his eyes were locked on Maria. He pulled her into a tight embrace, pressing his forehead against hers.

Maria exhaled, sinking into his arms. The battle still raged around them, but for this moment, they had survived.

Jamie watched them, then turned as another figure approached.

Solomon.

Her breath caught for just a second. He was battered, streaked with soot and blood, his rifle still clutched in his hand. But when he saw her, his gaze softened.

“You alright?” he asked.

Jamie didn’t hesitate. She threw her arms around him, holding on tight. Solomon stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, but then his hand came up, resting gently on her back.

She buried her face against his chest for just a second, feeling the solid warmth of him. He had saved her. Again.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Solomon didn’t reply, but he gave her shoulder a small squeeze before gently pulling away. They didn’t have time to linger.

The battle wasn’t over yet.

---

The Rebels' Breaking Point

The village square had become a slaughterhouse.

Solomon and Carlos fought desperately, leading their men against Victoria Langley’s elite forces. The enemy soldiers moved with ruthless efficiency, cutting down rebels with disciplined bursts of fire.

Barricades collapsed. Bodies littered the streets. The rebels were outgunned and outmatched.

Carlos ducked behind cover, reloading his rifle with shaking hands. “We can’t hold this position much longer!”

Solomon gritted his teeth, pressing his back against a crumbling stone wall. He knew Carlos was right.

Across the battlefield, Victoria Langley stood atop a fallen barricade, watching the slaughter with cold precision. She wasn’t celebrating—she was calculating.

She raised a hand.

A signal.

From the far side of the village, a rocket-propelled grenade streaked through the night, slamming into a rebel stronghold. The explosion tore through their defenses, sending men flying.

Carlos flinched as the shockwave rippled through the battlefield. “That’s it. If we don’t retreat now, we die here.”

Solomon exhaled sharply, his mind racing. He had one last gamble left.

If it failed, they were all dead.

---

Isabella’s Arrival – The Battlefield Shifts

A sudden horn blast echoed through the village.

It wasn’t Victoria’s.

A second later, the jungle erupted with gunfire. New soldiers emerged from the treeline, grenades arced through the air, and a fresh wave of rebels charged into the fray.

Isabella had arrived.

She led the charge personally, her twin pistols flashing in the firelight as she gunned down enemy soldiers with ruthless precision.

“Push forward!” Isabella’s voice rang out. “Take back the square!”

The exhausted rebels rallied behind her, fighting with renewed strength.

Victoria turned sharply, eyes narrowing as she assessed the battlefield. She had been seconds away from total victory—but Isabella’s arrival had changed everything.

For the first time since the battle began, she took a step back.

---

The Stalemate – Both Sides Step Back

The battle raged on, but neither side could gain the upper hand.

Victoria’s forces were strong—but Isabella had evened the numbers.

The fighting became brutal, desperate. Streets ran slick with blood, walls were pockmarked with bullet holes, and the air stank of smoke and death.

But it was clear: neither side would win tonight.

Victoria knew when to cut her losses. She wasn’t going to waste her soldiers in a pointless struggle.

She raised a hand. Another signal.

Her forces began to withdraw, moving with careful discipline.

Carlos exhaled in relief, but Solomon didn’t let his guard down. Victoria wasn’t running—she was regrouping.

He watched as she disappeared into the smoke, knowing this fight was far from over.

Meanwhile, across the battlefield, Esteban had vanished as well. He had escaped into the night, wounded but still dangerous.

Solomon clenched his jaw.

They would be back.

---

The Aftermath

As dawn began to creep over the village, the fires still smoldered.

The rebels were battered and bruised, but they had survived.

Carlos turned to Maria, still holding her close. He cupped her face, brushing a smudge of dirt from her cheek. “Are you hurt?”

Maria shook her head. “I’m fine.”

He exhaled, resting his forehead against hers for just a moment.

Nearby, Jamie sat on a fallen crate, rubbing her sore ribs. She winced as Solomon approached.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asked.

She gave him a tired smirk. “I’ve been worse.”

Solomon huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

Isabella stepped forward, surveying the battlefield. “We won’t get another chance like this,” she murmured. “We need to plan our next move—before Victoria does.”

Solomon nodded, his gaze hard.

The war wasn’t over.

It had only just begun.