Not everyone was confused by the black smoke staining the sky.
At a secure army base of the Azad Kashmir Regiment, hidden high in the mountains, a top officer put down his powerful telescope. Next to him stood a teenager in a clean military uniform. His name was Kair. His hands were steady, but his heart was a storm of mixed feelings. He was the one who had fired the missile.
"Well done, Kair," the officer said, his voice calm and strong. "A direct hit." Kair gave a sharp nod, his face showing no emotion. He was a person of action, not words.
They had been tracking the unknown American jet for several minutes. They saw the jet, which wasn't supposed to be there, as a possible threat from another country. The order was given, and Kair had followed it perfectly.
"Now we find out why it was here," the officer went on. "We'll find the crash site and check the wreckage and any survivors. I want to know its mission, and I want to know it now."
Below them, the base was busy with organized activity. Soldiers went through tough obstacle courses, their bodies pushing hard as they climbed high walls and crawled under barbed wire. On the firing range, the sharp crack of rifles echoed as men practiced their shooting skills. In the training yard, others practiced hand-to-hand combat, their moves a blur of skilled fighting.
Among these dedicated soldiers, Kair was one of the hardest working. His uncle had sent him to join the army after his parents were killed in a terrible event when he was just a child. Losing them shaped his whole life. He was determined to work harder than anyone, to become one of the best soldiers on the front lines who could defend his country from any danger. He wanted to make sure no other child would ever feel the same pain that had haunted him for years. This single focus drove him completely; he felt it was his personal weight to carry and his duty to make things right. It made him caring and protective of children, but it also fueled a deep anger toward any enemy who would threaten a child. He had no mercy for people like that. His only dream was to master fighting and leading, to be the shield protecting his people.
But under his serious, focused look, Kair was fighting a battle inside his own mind. From the day he joined the army, he had been trapped in a struggle with himself. He was obsessed with being perfect, knowing that the mission—and he always completed his mission, no matter what—depended on it. In the army, where being precise is everything, he pushed himself to do things exactly right, every single time.
He knew in his head that no one is perfect. Humans make mistakes. But he couldn't accept that for himself. He was terrified of failure because he believed that one mistake—one wrong calculation, one moment of waiting too long—could lead to disaster. It could create another tragedy, making another child an orphan, just like him. This fear was a heavy weight on his shoulders. Praise from the older soldiers made him feel better for a little while, but the pressure to be as good as they expected was huge.
So as he stood there, having just shot down an enemy he couldn't see, he felt a mix of pride and deep worry. The praise for his perfect shot was covered up by the scary responsibility of what came next. The enemy was down, but the mission wasn't over. For him, a mission was never over until every goal was completed.
"Hold on, because you won't want to miss what's coming next! We've finished the main stories of the seven teenagers, but a brand-new adventure is about to begin. Stay connected and check back in a week for the next installment. We're building the suspense! We'd also love for you to leave a comment about the story and the characters."