Outside the port, KLAUS ran toward his black car, each breath a ragged gasp that nearly choked the night's silence.
He muttered as he glanced back, "Damn… what a humiliating defeat!"
Steady footsteps approached — not hurried, but inexorable, the ticking of death's clock.
KLAUS spun around, his pistol trembling in his hand. "Who's there?!"
A dark glimmer.
A sharp, tearing sound.
…then silence.
KLAUS stared at his severed hand, unbelieving. "AAAH…!"
He dropped to his knees.
Blood stained the black asphalt.
When he lifted his eyes, he saw MOHITO standing like an ice statue,
eyes glowing red, his sword still dripping.
KLAUS, voice broken: "You… how…?"
MOHITO, cold: "All I had to do was decode SHOUTNA's message—or rather, ask the right question.Why would SHOUTNA send MAYNO and GHAZLANE, officers from intelligence, yet address the request to the King?
KLAUS stammered, "So… you knew the intelligence was compromised—"
MOHITO answered, "I didn't know. I deduced. And you were the last thread."
KLAUS laughed spitefully. "You scoundrels! You think you can stop—"
A swift cut.
KALUS's head fell before his word finished;
His mouth hung open in an eternal expression of shock.
MOHITO watched his reflection in the blood-smeared blade — the same face, but the eyes had changed.
Then footsteps came soft behind him.
TAK… TAK… TAK…
THE JOKER emerged from the shadows, smiling. "Was that fun?"
MOHITO, without turning: "Pleasure is a concept I don't understand."
THE JOKER: "I could have finished him minutes ago…
But I preferred to watch his face change from confidence to despair."
Finally, MOHITO looked at THE JOKER. "So… you were watching. And you wanted him gone."
THE JOKER laughed. "I don't like orders whispered in my ear… not even from KLAUS."
MOHITO began to walk away. "The game is over."
THE JOKER bowed mockingly. "Farewell… old friend."
MOHITO melted into the fog.
The air around him seemed to thicken — as if the earth itself feared touching his shadow.
THE JOKER remained, chuckling softly…
"The Miracle Boy… has returned."
"Bow, everyone, to the king."
*************
Meanwhile, at the port square, the comrades celebrated their victory.
SOLIMON advanced, his scythe dragging, steps slow, breath ragged.
ZAKI leaned on MESNAS's shoulder; blood dripped from his arm.
CLAY toyed with a grenade between his fingers like it were an orange.
From the smoke came MAYNO first.
He stood still, confused. His eyes moved across their faces as if trying to remember where he belonged.
Behind him — SHOUTNA.
Silence. No one spoke—a heavy moment, but not one of battle.
ZARIOUH was the first to break it with a half–laugh: "You're late."
SHOUTNA looked at them all — one glance.
That look everyone who had fought with him knew well: the look of a leader who needs no words.
SHOUTNA stepped to ZAKI and laid a hand on his shoulder — gently this time.
"Well done. No one else would have held that ground."
ZAKI tried to laugh. "It almost ended…"
MESNAS smiled through fatigue. "We don't die easily, do we?"
Behind them, MAYNO still stood, staring at the ground.
SOLIMON turned to him.
"You… chose our side?"
MAYNO lifted his head slowly, voice low but steady:
"I didn't choose a side…
I only followed the truth."
CLAY clapped, laughing: "That's the kind of men I like! No traitors! No childish games!"
AYOUB stepped up to MAYNO, looking him square in the eyes:
"If you're with us now…
know this: there is no going back."
MAYNO closed his eyes and breathed. "I knew that… before I raised my weapon."
They all gathered around SHOUTNA…
Faces wounded, but steady; eyes weary, yet still burning with a spark.
"Where is MOHITO?" MESNAS cut through the intimate moment.
SHOUTNA was silent, thinking.
SOLIMON and the HOUNDS had decided not to answer after what they had seen in TZARIA. An oppressive hush settled.
Then someone answered from the back: "He's here."
MOHITO stepped from the smoke… a shadow emerging from a wall of fog.
There was no look of triumph in his face, no relief of survival — only that hollow emptiness forged by long days.
He exchanged a glance with SOLIMON — enough for a silent exchange:
SOLIMON: "Did you do it?"
MOHITO: "It had to be done."
SOLIMON: "And what was its cost this time?"
MOHITO: "The usual."
SHOUTNA cut the silence: "We head for the headquarters."
A pause. A breeze passed among them as though the sea itself listened.
The silence that followed their victory was heavier than any explosion.
A victory that felt like a grave; a triumph wrapped in the smoke of bodies and memories.
However, they were not returning home.
They were walking toward a darker fate where the ghosts of this day would hunt them.
And MOHITO knew — deep in him — that he was the greatest of those ghosts who would haunt them all.
"Victory was nothing but masks hanging from the faces of defeat."