POV – Corporal Mason Blackwood, Soldier under Daniel
The first shot cracked like thunder. I didn't even see who pulled the trigger—maybe nerves, maybe spite—but once that bullet flew, the world exploded.
"DOWN!" I shouted, dropping flat as sparks lit up the ridge. Muzzle flashes cut the dark like fireflies from hell. Bullets tore into the stone, ricocheting sharp and angry. My ears rang, my chest hammered, and suddenly, we were no longer staring at brothers—we were fighting them.
Dave's men fanned out in desperation, but they were only fifty against us. Still, they fought like cornered wolves. I caught a glimpse of the boy—his rifle jerking wildly as he fired blind. Fear controlled his trigger finger.
Beside me, Sergeant Vale roared, "Push forward! General's orders!" His voice carried through the chaos. And then I saw him—General Daniel—charging through the smoke, not waiting for safety, not hiding. He was a storm in motion, rifle steady, eyes burning with authority.
"Advance!" Daniel's command sliced through the madness. And we obeyed. Not because we had to, but because his voice made you believe.
I pulled myself up, spraying cover fire as two of Dave's men scrambled for position. One dropped; the other rolled and vanished behind the ridge.
Explosions followed—grenades lobbed from both sides, turning the night into a furnace. The ground shook, dirt stung my face, and I coughed through the smoke.
I caught sight of Dave. He was in the thick of it, yelling, firing, refusing to fall back. His pride burned hotter than the bullets flying around us. But against sixty-thousand… pride was suicide.
We pressed harder. Step by step, shot by shot, we swallowed his men whole. Screams echoed, boots thundered, rifles cracked. It was no longer a patrol—it was a slaughter.
And me? I just kept firing, my body moving faster than my fear. The only thought pounding in my head was simple—follow the General. Don't fall behind. Don't die tonight.
---