[Middle East, Underground Compound]
Inside the compound, dozens of children, ranging from ages seven to seventeen, gathered under the dim lights. Some of the younger ones laughed and played, blissfully unaware of the tragedy that had befallen their families.But others — the older ones — wore their pain openly. Clear rage burned in their eyes, a silent storm of loss and anger simmering just beneath the surface.
A creaking sound echoed through the compound as the heavy doors swung open. Two figures stepped inside — a woman with striking blonde hair and a man with silver hair that seemed to catch the dim light.
The moment the children spotted the silver-haired man, their faces lit up with joy. In an instant, they rushed toward him, crowding around with eager smiles and excited chatter.
"Brother Andrew! You came back!"A cute little girl cried out, clinging tightly to his leg."Why didn't you visit us yesterday?"
Her big, innocent eyes looked up at him, full of both joy and a hint of complaint.
Seeing the children gathered around him, a rare flicker of emotion passed through Andrew's cold eyes. For a brief moment, his gaze softened—but his face remained as expressionless and stoic as ever.
Andrew crouched down to the little girl's level and gently patted her head.
"I was busy somewhere, Amelia," he said, his voice softer than usual. "But I'm here today, right?"
Amelia beamed up at him, her smile bright and full of trust."Yes, Brother!"
Just then, a voice called out from Andrew's side.
"Brother, I want to join the Silver Claw. I don't want to just sit and watch!"
Hearing the boy's determined words, Andrew rose to his feet. He turned to meet the boy's gaze, his expression hardening. His voice was low and firm when he spoke:
"No."
Without another word, Andrew moved away, blending back into the group of children. He knelt and began playing with them, his earlier warmth returning in small, fleeting gestures.
Meanwhile, John, the boy who had spoken, stood frozen. The rejection stung, but he didn't show it. He turned silently toward the window, staring out into the distant world beyond the compound walls. His gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing with a newfound determination.
After spending some time with the children, Andrew and Isabelle made their way outside.
The moment they stepped out, their demeanor shifted. They quickly strapped on bulletproof vests and began selecting their weapons from a nearby rack. The clinking of metal and the click of loading magazines filled the air.
While checking her gun, Isabelle glanced sideways at Andrew and asked,"Why did you reject John, Brother? They all want revenge for their families."
Andrew, who was methodically loading his rifle, paused. His sharp gaze met Isabelle's for a moment before he spoke, his voice calm but firm.
"He's not ready. If I let him go out now, he'll lose his life," he said simply. "So no."
Without waiting for a reply, Andrew slung the rifle over his shoulder and started walking toward the compound gates.
Isabelle watched his retreating back, her mind drifting to the past — to the day they met, to the bond that grew between them like true siblings. But that was a story for another time.
For a brief moment, her eyes softened, vulnerability flashing across her face. But she quickly buried it deep within her heart, composed herself, and hurried after Andrew.
The helicopters of the United Sovereign States roared toward the Middle East, cutting through the sky with purpose.
Inside the chopper, the team sat together, the tension thick in the air. Alex noticed Noah sitting alone, his usual carefree demeanor replaced with a quiet solitude. The sight tugged at Alex's heart. Without hesitation, he stood up and moved to sit beside Noah, his hand gently resting on Noah's shoulder.
"Brother," Alex said softly, "Don't worry. Your family is with you. We're all your family, okay?"
Noah looked at Alex, then shifted his gaze to the rest of the team. Each of them looked back with encouraging eyes. The weight of their support washed over him, and slowly, the mask of melancholy faded. A small but genuine smile spread across his face, and he returned to his carefree persona.
"Yeah," Noah replied, his voice lighter, "I'm good."
Suddenly, a voice crackled through Samual's headset."Captain, we're nearing the mission point. Get your team ready."
Samual straightened, his face hardening with focus. He quickly grabbed his rifle, stood up, and called out to the team.
"Soldiers, get ready! We're at the mission point!"
Alex and the rest of the team immediately sprang into action. Alex grabbed his rifle, securing it to his chest, while Noah, already back to his usual self, prepared with a grim determination.