Ein slipped back through the shadows like a wraith, every step measured to avoid snapping twigs or stirring dust. The cold morning air bit at her skin, but she barely noticed—the only thing on her mind was the camp, the prisoners, and getting back in time.
Ahead, the faint outline of Jack's silhouette appeared by the fire, his sharp eyes scanning the dark. Ein's breath hitched as she pushed herself harder, muscles coiling and releasing with practiced precision. She vaulted over a fallen log, sprinted across the last stretch of open ground, and dropped silently behind him.
Jack barely turned. "Ein? You're back."
Her voice was low, urgent. "Just made it. There are about twenty guards total—scattered but watchful."
She crouched beside him, eyes burning with intensity. "Multiple prisoners inside the largest tent—chains, but no sign of Jess's brother. They're probably keeping him somewhere more secure, deeper in the camp."
Jack's jaw tightened. "Twenty guards… less than I expected. We can work with that."
Ein nodded, the tension in her posture never fading. "They're well-armed but not numerous. We move fast, hit hard, and use the element of surprise."
Jack's eyes met hers, a spark of relief and resolve igniting in his gaze. "Good work, Ein. We don't have much time."
She wiped a bead of sweat from her brow, already preparing mentally for the next step. "I'm ready when you are."
The camp still lay quiet around them, but the storm was coming—and they had to be ready.
Jack rose to face the gathered team, his expression sharp and focused.
"We will breach the front gate head-on," he began, his voice steady and commanding. "While we engage their attention, Ein will slip back inside the camp. Her job is to find and free the prisoners. Once freed, they'll create chaos from within—attacking the enemy from behind and pinching them between us."
Talon, Monte, Ein, and Jess all exchanged determined nods, fully understanding the high stakes and their roles in the plan. The tension in the air was palpable; this was the moment they had prepared for, the moment to finally take the fight to the enemy's doorstep.
Before disappearing into the shadows to begin her critical task, Ein slipped forward and pressed a quick, almost shy kiss to Jack's cheek—an intimate, fleeting moment amid the looming danger. Jack barely had time to register it before she melted back into the darkness, her movement fluid and silent.
Jack turned his attention back to the path ahead. He began moving toward the front gate, keeping close to the cover of the trees, each step deliberate and cautious. The cold morning light filtered through the branches, casting long shadows that concealed him as he advanced, every muscle coiled and ready for the impending fight.
Jack knelt behind a large rock, using it for cover as he mounted his rifle against its edge for stability. He slowed his breathing, focusing down his sights on the two guards stationed at the front gate of the encampment. The air was still.
One breath in. One breath out.
He squeezed the trigger.
The first shot pierced through the nearest guard's helmet with a sharp crack, the man collapsing before he even realized what had happened. The second guard barely had time to react before another round struck clean through his head, sending him crumpling to the dirt. Both fell in silence—swift, clinical, and final.
Jack remained low, moving forward in a steady crouch, his rifle raised and eyes scanning the area for any signs of disturbance. So far, no reaction. No alarms.
Good. They still don't know what a gun sounds like in this world, Jack thought. All it does is confuse them.
He reached the gate without incident, where Talon and Monte were already in position. Jack glanced at them, his expression firm. He took a quiet breath and gave Talon the signal to move.
Talon didn't hesitate.
With the weight of a born warrior, he charged through the gate, raising his sword high and slamming the pommel against his shield. The metallic clang echoed like thunder across the camp, a battle cry without words, demanding attention.
Knights turned at the sound, alarm flashing in their eyes as they grabbed weapons and sprinted toward the noise.
Jack drew his M17 sidearm, the grip familiar and reassuring in his hand. He dropped into a ready stance beside Monte, who already had flames dancing in his palm, his eyes glowing with magical focus.
The first wave of knights came crashing forward—shields up, swords raised.
And then it hit: chaos.
Talon collided with the front line like a battering ram, shield slamming into the nearest knight with bone-rattling force. Sparks flew as blades met steel, and war cries filled the night air. Monte hurled a fireball that exploded in the center of a cluster of enemies, scattering them with flame and smoke.
Jack fired carefully, methodically—each pull of the trigger dropping a target before they could close the distance. But it wasn't long before the fight devolved into close quarters.
Swords, fists, magic, and gunfire all clashed in a brutal dance beneath the burning sky.
And as the battle raged at the gates, somewhere in the shadows behind enemy lines… Ein was already on the move.
While chaos erupted at the front gate, Ein moved like a whisper through the shadows.
Her body hugged the wall of a supply building, then she darted forward, slipping between the narrow gaps in patrol lines like smoke through fingers. Her movements were precise, fluid—more instinct than thought. She vaulted over crates without a sound, rolled beneath a hanging lantern before its flickering light could catch her, and clung to a support beam overhead as a pair of knights ran beneath her, drawn toward the noise of Talon's bellow and the clash of steel.
She dropped down silently, landing in a perfect crouch.
Her breath was steady. Focused.
She was close now.
Ein spotted the prison tent at the far edge of the encampment—a sagging structure reinforced with wooden beams and guarded by a single bored-looking knight with a pike. Poor soul.
With a quick step off a barrel, she launched into the air, twisting her body mid-leap. Her feet caught the wall of a nearby shed, and she used it to spring forward, somersaulting over the guard's head. Before he could process what had happened, her legs wrapped around his neck mid-air, and with a fluid twist, she spun him to the ground, unconscious before he could shout.
Ein landed in a crouch, hair falling slightly in front of her eyes, breath calm.
"Too slow," she whispered, already moving.
She slipped inside the prison tent. The smell of blood, sweat, and hopelessness hung thick in the air. A dozen prisoners—some in chains, others simply too beaten to resist—looked up in alarm as the flap opened.
Weapons weren't needed here. Just her voice.
"Get up," she said firmly, scanning the room. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to give you a chance to fight back."
No one moved at first. Just hollow stares.
Ein stepped forward, pulling her dagger and slicing through the first prisoner's shackles with a clean stroke. The others flinched, but her voice didn't waver.
"Ciradil's knights burned your homes. Took your family. Killed your friends." She turned, eyes blazing with quiet fury. "But you're still alive. And right now, the ones who did this are fighting the people who came here to save you."
One man stood slowly, a cut above his brow, dried blood crusted down his temple. "You're not with the Ciradil army?"
Ein shook her head. "We came from the ruins. We saw what they did to your town. We're here to end this."
Another woman stood, fists clenched. "Do you have weapons?"
Ein smiled slightly. "Not enough for everyone. But if you're ready to fight… there are blades on the bodies outside."
The prisoners looked at one another. Then slowly, one by one, they began to rise.
Ein moved quickly, cutting restraints and ushering them to the exit.
"Stick to the shadows," she said, motioning them out. "When you hear my signal, that's when you strike. Take their weapons. Hit them from behind. We'll trap them between us."
The man with the cut above his eye stepped up beside her, gripping a jagged piece of wood like a club. "Who are you?"
Ein glanced toward the sounds of battle in the distance, then back at him.
"I'm Ein," she said. "And I'm the shadow before the fall."
Then she vanished again, a shadow slipping into the dark to prepare for the strike.
Steel clanged. Bodies collided. Blood hit the dirt.
Jack moved like a machine—calm, efficient, deadly.
One knight raised his sword—bang. Dropped.
Another charged. Jack sidestepped, buried a bullet in his back.
No hesitation. No mercy.
He caught Talon's eye across the chaos. A nod passed between them—wordless, sharp.
They were winning.
Jack reloaded, breath steady. Eyes burning.
"Keep pushing," he growled.
And he did.