So, there's a cameo in this chapter featuring everyone's favourite Canadian, mostly to reinforce the fact that this is a shared universe… Other than that, please enjoy…
"Lean against the wall and prepare to take a fall."
- Sabit
Singapore
In the quiet of the Singaporean evening, Dusk stood in front of his family, a rare apology on his lips, "I'm sorry I can't stay as long as I intended to."
His father chuckled softly, giving his son a reassuring pat on the back.
"Don't worry about it, Keith. The bungalow's big enough for the whole family, including your cousins. And besides, we're in a neighborhood full of cops and military. We're not exactly easy targets."
Dusk's mother nodded from the kitchen, smiling faintly.
"We'll be fine. The bodyguards assigned by the government and the Gurkhas are already patrolling the area, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. You don't need to concern yourself over us."
Dusk smiled weakly but still felt the weight of the situation. He took a moment to glance around at his family, knowing they were all used to being surrounded by protection. With a final nod to his parents, he turned and walked toward the waiting car.
Inside, Lion was already seated, casually scrolling through his phone. As Dusk climbed in and slammed the door shut, Lion looked up and waved casually at Dusk's cousin, Faith, who was standing by the door. Dusk shot him a playful glare, but before he could react, Lion tossed him a mischievous grin.
"What, you think you can get away with that?" Dusk growled teasingly.
In a blur of motion, Dusk lunged at Lion, and a quick wrestling match broke out in the cramped backseat. They tangled and laughed, much to the exasperation of the driver, who let out a resigned sigh.
As the car drove off, the figure crouched low behind the dense foliage, his eyes locked on the retreating vehicle. A faint glint of the Keres Legion tattoo on his arm was visible as he adjusted his position, preparing for the strike. His orders from Leo Khoo were clear: eliminate Dusk's family, send a message to Rainbow.
With a practiced hand, he pulled a grenade launcher from his pack, checking it once before aiming carefully at the bungalow in the distance. The tension in the air was thick, the quiet before the storm.
But just as he was about to pull the trigger, a sharp "Snikt!" echoed behind him. The man froze, his grip tightening on the weapon, but the rough, gravelly voice that followed made him shit his pants instantly: "Walk away, bub, while I'm feeling generous..."
Unknown location
In the dimly lit interior of one of Deimos's secret lairs, the air hummed with the quiet sound of papers being shuffled and files being organized. Deimos sat at a desk, categorizing various Rainbow operators into two distinct groups on the screen.
Leo Khoo, still bandaged up from Dusk blasting him at point blank range with a shotgun, sat across the room, his arms crossed as he watched the man who had once been his ally. The pain from his wounds was still fresh, but his curiosity overshadowed it.
"So, Deimos," he began, his voice strained but direct, "why haven't you executed me yet?"
Deimos didn't even glance up, continuing his task with casual efficiency.
"Under normal circumstances, I would have. But you're too useful to dispose of just yet, Khoo. You're still a tool I can work with."
Khoo's brow furrowed, unsure of what Deimos was getting at. Deimos finally looked up, meeting his eyes with an almost amused expression.
"Besides," Deimos continued, "I need someone to keep an eye on Wu Hsing. I've given him the freedom to do as he pleases, but lately, he's getting a bit too ambitious for my taste. You're the perfect person to keep him in check."
Khoo smirked, though the tension in his body was still palpable.
"So, I'm his babysitter now?"
"If you want to call it that, sure. But you'd be wise to stay on both his and my good side, Khoo."
As Deimos continued his work, Khoo's gaze drifted over to the desk, where he noticed the files were divided into two distinct piles. One set contained detailed information on Rainbow operators, the other labeled with an unsettling precision: "Families Targetable" and "Too Dangerous."
Khoo's eyes narrowed as he watched Deimos place Dusk's file into the second pile. He couldn't help but scoff, the bandages on his body still a painful reminder of their last encounter.
"You really think he's too dangerous to touch? You've got to be kidding me. Keith was nothing but a weakling when we were in school."
Deimos's gaze flicked up from the papers, his expression unreadable since the ballistic mask hides his face.
"Do you find that funny, Khoo?"
"Yeah, I do. Keith was always the last one picked for anything. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if he wasn't hiding behind that 'good guy' facade."
Deimos's voice grew colder, a subtle edge of menace creeping in.
"Funny how he's the reason you're in this condition, Khoo. Do you have any idea how much blood our medics needed to pump out of your lungs to save you from drowning internally?"
The words hit harder than Khoo expected. He clenched his jaw, the memory of Dusk's relentless skill and precision still fresh in his mind. But his pride didn't let him back down.
"He's just a fluke," Khoo muttered, though even he wasn't entirely convinced.
Deimos chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with something almost predatory.
"You're wrong. Dusk is dangerous, but he's less so when he has something to lose. I've already seen his psychological reports. His family, his loved ones—they're his anchor. That's what keeps him from being a threat. Take that away, and he'll be too dangerous to deal with."
Khoo was about to respond, but Deimos raised a hand, silencing him.
"And don't you ever target his family again. Apparently, they're long-time sponsors and friends of a private school in New York where all their students were born with… Biologically superior mutations. It's not worth the risk to my plans."
Khoo met Deimos's gaze for a long moment, the weight of the warning sinking in. There was no doubt in his mind now: Deimos wasn't just playing games with Dusk.
Hereford Base, England
The soft whir of helicopters cutting through the air was the only sound in the otherwise still courtyard of Hereford Base. From the main building, Dokkaebi watched the helicopters from the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, eyes fixed on the rotor blades. Her usual confidence was nowhere to be seen, and even the NIGHTHAVEN agents lurking nearby seemed to take note of her unusual silence. Kali, as ever, kept a watchful eye but had given them strict orders to leave her alone.
It was Ash who finally approached, her footsteps light but deliberate. She stood for a moment, studying Dokkaebi's profile, before speaking.
"You've been quiet. What's going on?"
Dokkaebi exhaled slowly, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Dusk... he saved my life three times in the last three months and two weeks. And I—I can't help but think he's starting to lose respect for me."
Ash raised an eyebrow.
"Lose respect? For you?" she exclaimed as she leaned against the wall beside her, trying to read Dokkaebi's face, "What's really bothering you?"
Dokkaebi's gaze dropped to the ground.
"I think he might blame me for his family having to live under police protection now. They're now potential targets because of what happened in Singapore with the Keres Legion. He didn't ask for that. He didn't ask to get dragged into this."
Ash let the silence hang between them for a moment, then spoke with quiet certainty, "Dusk doesn't blame anyone, least of all you. And as for his family—they're not the type to be messed with. His family's either military, police, or used to be one. And they're also well-connected. I mean, Rand Corporation, Yahata Data Security… They'll be fine, trust me."
Dokkaebi turned her head, looking at Ash with a hint of doubt. Ash gave her a knowing smile.
"Trust me. He's not going anywhere. And neither are you."
As Ash tapped her shoulders reassuringly and left, Dokkaebi turned her gaze back to the landing pads where Dusk and Lion had just disembarked from one of the helicopters, the crisp English air a sharp contrast to the tropical heat they'd left behind. As they walked into the courtyard, Julian "Rook" Nizan greeted them with a grin.
"Welcome back," Rook said with a nod, before turning to Lion, "I heard you didn't waste any time with Dusk's cousin—things got interesting, huh?"
Dusk froze. Before Rook could process his slip-up, Dusk grabbed the nearest mop from a recruit and charged at Rook, his face a mixture of mock fury.
"I mop the floor with your face, French fries!" Dusk shrieked at a high-pitched voice as he chased Rook around like a monkey on steroids.
"Hey, hey! Relax, Dusk!" Rook called out, but his laughter only made Dusk chase him harder while Lion, who was laughing his butt off, tried to intervene.
Dokkaebi watched from the window, her arms crossed. She couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at the corner of her lips as she observed the comical chaos below. Yet, despite the amusement it brought her, there was a heavy weight in her chest.
"Something's on your mind?"
Phaya's voice broke her from her thoughts. The Thai operator stood nearby, an inquisitive look on his face. Dokkaebi sighed, still staring out the window.
"I don't know… maybe I'm just overthinking. I'm worried about Dusk. He's done so much for me lately, but... what if he loses respect for me? I'm just waiting for the day he realizes I'm more of a burden than an asset."
Phaya stepped closer, his expression softening with genuine concern.
"You really care about him, don't you? But you're not alone in this. You're strong, Dokkaebi. You can hold your own, and Dusk knows that. He sees the strength in you, even if he doesn't always say it."
Dokkaebi glanced at Phaya, her eyes searching his face for any sign of insincerity. He seemed genuine enough. She felt a bit of the weight lift off her shoulders.
"But..." Phaya continued, a slight shift in his tone, "It's true that someone like Dusk, who's been through so much, he doesn't tend to rely on others. Maybe that's part of the problem. Sometimes, I wonder if he pushes people away, not because he doesn't care, but because he's afraid of needing anyone."
Dokkaebi frowned, feeling a flicker of uncertainty.
"I don't think that's the case…"
Phaya shrugged slightly, his gaze drifting down to where Dusk, Lion and Rook were still circling the courtyard while Lucy barked and followed the trio around.
"Maybe not. But... he's been through a lot, right? Some people just... don't know how to let others in. Look at how he's kept everyone at arm's length. Even when he does care, it's like he's always holding back."
Dokkaebi's brow furrowed. She could feel the undercurrent of something sharp in his words.
As Phaya continued to watch the chaos below, he added, "It's almost like he's got a soft spot for you. But sometimes, I wonder... will he really stick around when it gets too difficult for him?"
The question hung in the air, and the warmth that had started to build in Dokkaebi's chest quickly cooled. She glanced at Phaya, her expression hardening.
"Are you implying something about Dusk?" she asked, her voice tight.
Phaya raised his hands in mock surrender, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"No, no, just thinking out loud. But, you know… sometimes people can surprise you. He might be the one who surprises you. Or maybe he's the one who'll leave you hanging."
Dokkaebi didn't wait for him to finish. Her irritation flared, and she turned on her heel, striding away from the window. Her mood had shifted from unease to anger, her thoughts now tangled in the unwanted insinuations Phaya had dropped. The chase outside, once amusing, now seemed a distant memory. Her mind was too clouded by frustration to care about the commotion below. As she walked off, she couldn't shake the feeling that her conversation with Phaya had only made things worse.
The cafeteria was abuzz with whispers as operators gathered for lunch, the atmosphere tense with talk of the upcoming Six Invitational. Ash and Doc sat at one of the tables, their conversation laced with concern.
"I'm telling you," Ash said quietly, "NIGHTHAVEN agents being part of the Invitational is a problem. They're unpredictable, and we don't know their true agenda."
Doc nodded, his brow furrowed.
"We've always had to keep an eye on them, but now... it feels different."
Meanwhile, another conversation was unfolding at a nearby table. Operators were discussing something else entirely—Dusk's surprising decision to voluntarily not partake of the Invitational. Whispers of disappointment filled the air, particularly from those eyeing the coveted team leader positions.
Vigil, seated alone with a bowl of soup, raised an eyebrow as he overheard the murmurs. He wasn't one to get involved in team drama, but the news about Dusk caught his attention. He had always respected the quiet operator, and the idea of him stepping away from such a major event seemed... out of place.
His thoughts were interrupted when he felt someone sit beside him. Looking up, he saw Dokkaebi, her usual confident demeanor softened with something else he couldn't place. She was well aware of the suspicion he held regarding her and Major-General Kuh, yet here she was, sitting beside him.
"Everything alright?" Vigil asked, his voice low.
Dokkaebi shrugged nonchalantly.
"Phaya doesn't dare to come near you. That makes you the safest bet to avoid him right now."
Vigil sighed, glancing over at Phaya, who was standing at the vending machine, blissfully unaware of the silent tension brewing. With a dangerous look in his eyes, Vigil muttered, "I already warned him."
Dokkaebi took a small, satisfied breath, knowing Phaya wouldn't be causing any trouble for the moment.
The small meeting room was filled with the low murmur of conversation as Dusk sat with the rest of the Year 2022 recruits who had been promoted to full operators. They had gathered to discuss the upcoming Six Invitational, but there was no rush—just a shared moment of downtime before the real work began.
Myotis, the Filipino operator from the SRR, leaned forward, arms resting on the table as he glanced around at the others.
"So, I heard about the Invitational," he said, his tone casual. "Anyone else feeling like it's not all it's cracked up to be?"
Lynx, the ATF operator, gave a small shrug.
"Honestly, I get that. It feels like a show more than an actual competition. I'm not that interested in being part of the circus, you know?"
Dusk, sitting quietly at the head of the table, spoke up, "I've already pulled out. Not my thing. It's just a variety game show for soldiers, and I've got other things to focus on."
Myotis chuckled and nodded.
"Yeah, I kind of agree. I'm not a fan of the whole spectacle. I'd rather be out there doing actual work."
"Exactly. I'm in the same boat. If it's just for show, I'll pass on that," Pyre added.
Saqr, the Egyptian operator, sat a little straighter, his tone more serious.
"I have to be there, though. I'm part of the medical support team for the event. It's not something I can skip as a medic. Wish I could, though."
Ram, who had been quietly listening, smiled and added, "I get where you're coming from, Dusk. But I'm in. I've signed up to compete. It'll be interesting, at least. Phaya and Breaker are also in. I know it's not everyone's cup of tea, but it's what we've got."
Dusk nodded, his expression neutral but not unkind.
"Good luck to all of you. Just don't get caught up in the theatrics."
The group shared a quiet laugh, and with that, the conversation began to wind down. Everyone knew the challenges ahead, but for a brief moment, they were simply new operators, bonding over shared experiences and decisions, as the evening slowly stretched on.
The Six Invitational was in full swing, but Dusk remained unmoved. True to his word, he had little interest in the event. Instead, he spent the week focusing on other tasks—keeping the base running smoothly and ensuring everything was in order. Guard duties were his usual quiet routine, patrolling the perimeter either alone with Lucy or with Naga, the older Arintaraj 26 operator who has been helping keep Phaya away from Dusk to avoid any confrontations.
Inside the base, Montagne had decided to skip the Invitational for this year. The massive French operator had taken it upon himself to train the new recruits. Dusk found himself spending hours alongside him as well as Naga, overseeing drills, offering guidance, and helping Montagne refine the recruits' skills.
Among the new faces, Sabit, the Malaysian recruit from UTK, was standing out. His focus and precision during training exercises impressed Dusk, but there was another recruit who caught his eye: Arif Guntur "Lockpick" Suriyanto, an Indonesian operator from Densus 88 who stands at an astonishing 6 foot 7 inches, even taller and bigger than Montagne.
Despite his callsign, Lockpick didn't waste time with delicate tools or finesse. His approach was far more direct—he didn't pick locks; he broke down doors. Lockpick carried "Guruh", a battering ram equipped with an EMP device, which he used to disable any electronic traps that might be set behind doors with a single, forceful strike which also sends the door flying open. Dusk couldn't help but respect the brute force and precision in the recruit's style.
The days passed quickly as Dusk continued his work, the world outside filled with the spectacle of the Invitational. He kept his distance, content with his role inside the base—though there was something quietly satisfying about watching the new recruits sharpen their skills under his guidance.
The Six Invitational came and went, and the operators who had participated returned to base. Mira's team, which included Breaker and Dokkaebi, had triumphed in the Tournament of Champions, their victory celebrated by many in the base.
Dusk, however, remained indifferent to the accolades. As the team gathered, he nodded toward Mira, offering a quiet, "Congrats on the win." His voice lacked enthusiasm, but the sentiment was there.
His gaze briefly drifted toward Phaya, who stood at the back of the group, looking unusually tense and angry. Dusk's eyes narrowed for a moment, but he quickly turned away. Whatever was bothering Phaya was none of his concern—not now, not ever. The enmity between them had made sure of that. He let the moment pass, deciding not to get involved.
The morning light filtered through the training yard as Dokkaebi stood off to the side, quietly observing the recruits. She had come with the excuse of attending the session, but the truth was she wanted to talk to Dusk. Her mind was still troubled by her fear that Dusk no longer saw her as a capable operator after he'd saved her life three times, and with his family now under constant protection because of her, she couldn't shake the worry that she was becoming a burden.
But just as she was about to approach him, trouble stirred elsewhere.
Across the yard, Sabit was in a heated conversation with Phaya. The tension was thick between them, the words sharp but restrained.
"I don't appreciate how you talk to me, Phaya," Sabit said, his frustration simmering beneath his words, "If you've got a problem with how I'm training, just say it, don't try to put me down in front of everyone."
Phaya's response was calm but cutting.
"I'm just pointing out that if you can't follow basic instructions, maybe you're not cut out for this. You need to get your head in the game."
"That's not the issue. It's the way you treat other people. You act like you're Vincenzo Cassano but you're so much of an asshole, I'm surprised no one told you that you look and act more like Kusaka Masato.
Dokkaebi, sensing things about to escalate, took a half-step forward, but before she could intervene, Dusk was already walking across the yard, his presence quiet but firm. Without a word, Dusk placed a hand on Sabit's shoulder and gently guided him away from the tension, leading him to the opposite end of the training area. Sabit looked a bit surprised but didn't resist.
"Take a breath," Dusk said, his voice calm and steady, "Phaya likes to push buttons, but don't let it get to you."
Sabit, still clearly frustrated, shook his head.
"I don't understand how you put up with him. Every time we train, he's always trying to start something. And I know he's racist towards you. Even the other guy from Thailand, Naga, is telling me that Phaya's becoming a problem."
"Phaya's got his own issues," Dusk said quietly, "He's stuck in a certain way of thinking. But that's his problem, not yours."
"So, you just let that dollar store Kaixa get away with it?"
"Not really. You just don't let him drag you down. Focus on your own progress… And what's with the Kamen Rider crap, by the way? You're 29 already, kawan, stop watching kids' shows. And besides, I won't go so far as to call Phaya an irredeemable jerk, but his birthday just so happened to be on September 13…"
Sabit paused for a moment, his frustration slowly giving way to understanding and amusement as he chuckled. He nodded, albeit reluctantly, and looked back toward the group. Dusk gave him a brief nod before walking off toward the other end of the yard. Dokkaebi watched him go, noting how he handled the situation with such ease. Her worries momentarily forgotten, she finally decided it was time to talk to him—though she wasn't sure what exactly she'd say yet.
As Dusk and Sabit walked away from the tension of the training session, Lucy, Dusk's ever-loyal Belgian Malinois, noticed Dokkaebi standing off to the side. The dog trotted over to her, tail wagging as she nuzzled her head against Dokkaebi's hand. The sudden affection pulled Dokkaebi out of her thoughts. She gently stroked Lucy's fur, smiling slightly at the dog's attention.
Dusk, still walking a few paces ahead, paused when he saw Dokkaebi for the first time since the session began. He hadn't realized she was there at all. His expression softened slightly as he noticed her lingering.
"Didn't realize you were around," he remarked, his voice low as usual, but there was an underlying curiosity.
Dokkaebi, still petting Lucy, took a deep breath before turning to him.
"Dusk... you've saved my life three times. I don't know what to think anymore. I just—"
She hesitated, her voice quieter.
"What do you think of me? As a Rainbow operator, I mean."
Dusk glanced at her, his gaze neutral but sincere. He didn't hesitate.
"I think you're capable, resilient, and smart. But sometimes, you're a bit too smart and reckless for your own good."
A small laugh escaped Dokkaebi at his blunt honesty, the brief sound bringing a bit of lightness to the conversation. But it didn't last long. Dusk could see it in her eyes—something was troubling her.
"What's on your mind?"
Dokkaebi's shoulders sagged, and she let out a quiet sigh.
"I'm worried... I'm worried that you'll start to look down on me. That maybe you'll see me as a burden after everything you've done for me," She looked down at Lucy, her voice barely above a whisper, "You've saved me so many times. And now, your family have to live under protection because of the mission in Singapore."
Dusk's eyes darkened slightly at her words, but his voice remained calm.
"Don't think like that. Anyone who targets my family is just asking to sign their own death certificate considering who our bedfellows are. Besides, they've been preparing themselves for the off-chance where they will have to live this kind of life. My family understands this. You're not to blame."
Dokkaebi was quiet for a moment, processing his words. There was a weight lifting off her chest, though it hadn't completely disappeared. A flicker of relief crossed her face, but she didn't say anything more.
Before either could say another word, they remained there in a brief silence, Lucy contentedly sitting by Dokkaebi's side. What neither of them noticed was Phaya, standing some distance away. His gaze was sharp, focused with a quiet, simmering envy as he watched them, his fists clenched at his sides…
Turkey, 2023
The tremors of destruction still reverberated through the streets of Turkey, but the damage was already done. The Mw 7.8 earthquake had turned whole neighborhoods into piles of rubble, leaving behind a devastated landscape. Rainbow's Wolfguard squad had been deployed alongside local forces to assist with rescue operations and maintain order in the field hospitals being hastily set up.
Among them, Dusk and his K9 partner Lucy had been temporarily reassigned from Viperstrike, joining the operation in an unfamiliar terrain. Dusk, shovel in hand, moved steadily through the collapsed building. He could hear the faint cries of survivors beneath the rubble, his ears straining against the cacophony of disaster. The feeling of helplessness lurked in his gut, but he pushed it aside. There was no time for hesitation—not now.
Lucy, his Belgian Malinois, trotted ahead, her nose twitching as she searched for signs of life. The special collar around her neck, modified by Solis to detect humans for this assignment, beeped as it tagged electronic devices hidden in the debris. Dusk followed closely behind, eyes scanning the wreckage, shovel raised in preparation. Lucy barked sharply. A signal.
"Good girl," Dusk muttered under his breath, moving faster now, clearing debris with swift, practiced motions. His augmented reality goggles flickered to life, feeding him real-time data from Lucy's collar.
Lucy's bark cut through the chaos, sharp and insistent. Dusk's heart raced as he glanced down at the data feed streaming through his augmented goggles. His pulse quickened as the information loaded: three individuals, trapped under the debris.
"Got three," Dusk muttered, already moving toward the location Lucy had indicated. He raised his hand, signaling to the others. "We need help here! Three survivors under the rubble."
Moments later, Frost and Tubarão arrived, the latter's heavy boots crunching on the debris-strewn ground as he approached. They were followed by a small team of El Salvador's USAR, their movements efficient and determined. Frost's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the scene, her jaw tight.
"You know what really pisses me off?" Frost said, not bothering to hide her frustration, "My government refused to send rescue personnel here, but the second some farmers get upset over something, they declare an emergency. Can't believe I voted for that guy."
Dusk didn't respond immediately, his focus remaining on the task at hand. He motioned to the El Salvadoran worker who had positioned himself beside him, and together, they began clearing the debris around the first trapped individual.
"Canada's toast," Dusk finally replied, his voice steady despite the harshness of his words, "Your country's priorities are all messed up. Still better than America, though. I mean, how fucked is your country when its people have to choose between an orange psychopath and a senile invalid?"
The team worked in silence, hands moving quickly to remove the rubble. Frost and Tubarão joined in with urgent precision, their skills honed through countless operations. With each shove of debris, the first survivor was slowly freed—a woman, bloodied but alive.
She gasped as she was pulled out, eyes wide with fear and relief. A medic was already there, ready to assess her condition, but the small victory felt enormous amidst the devastation.
"Get her to safety," Dusk ordered quietly, his voice carrying more weight than usual. But they weren't done yet.
The others turned back to the rubble, determined to find the next survivor.
The field hospital was a makeshift sanctuary amid the chaos, an island of hope surrounded by the ruins of what had once been a thriving neighborhood. Tents were set up as triage units, while ambulances idled nearby, ready to transport the most critically injured to hospitals that still stood in the area.
Both Naga and Dokkaebi, despite not being part of Wolfguard, had joined the rescue efforts. In Dokkaebi's case, she had been assisting Doc and Twitch in treating the injured, her focus sharp as she helped move a recently bandaged civilian into a wheelchair. The man said nothing, but his eyes held gratitude. Dokkaebi offered a reassuring smile as she helped guide the wheelchair, her usual playful demeanor tempered by the gravity of the situation. She glanced around, noting the chaotic energy of the scene. The hospital was overcrowded, and there was a palpable tension in the air as more patients arrived.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted. Shouting filled the tent as a group of patients, still disoriented and frightened from the earthquake, began pushing against security personnel. Their demands were frantic, angry and growing louder, until it was drowned out by a single, commanding roar.
"ENOUGH!"
The sound came from the entrance, powerful and unwavering. Lion stepped into view, his posture tall and imposing. His incredibly loud voice cut through the chaos, and the rowdy group immediately fell silent, their defiance quelled in an instant.
Dokkaebi blinked, momentarily stunned by the sheer volume and authority behind the command.
"That's how he got his callsign," Twitch said with a smirk, eyes gleaming, "Lion doesn't just speak—he commands."
"I'm starting to understand why."
The tense air seemed to settle, as if Lion's roar had not only silenced the crowd, but calmed the storm within the field hospital itself. Now, there was only the work left to do.
The night air was thick with the weight of the day. The camp was quieter now, the chaos of the rescue efforts fading into the background as the hours wore on. But despite the silence, Dusk couldn't find peace. His mind raced, replaying the faces of those he couldn't save, the ones who had slipped through his fingers. Eight lives had been saved today, thanks to him and Lucy—but for every life they rescued, there had been a dozen more lost.
He moved silently, slipping out of the tent where the rest of the team had gathered, and found himself sitting near the stacked supply crates. His hands were still shaking, despite his best efforts to steady them. He wiped them against his fatigues, but that didn't help the tightness in his chest.
Then he felt it—a single tear, slowly tracing its way down his cheek. Dusk froze, a cold knot forming in his gut. Why am I crying?
Before he could wipe it away, he heard soft footsteps behind him. He tensed, bracing for the teasing, the inevitable comment from one of the others. But when he turned, it wasn't Frost or Tubarão—it was Dokkaebi. Without a word, she sat down next to him, her posture relaxed but her eyes studying him with quiet understanding.
"It's fine," she said after a beat, her voice calm, "I prefer men who don't hide their feelings anyways."
Dusk blinked, surprised. The teasing, the snide remark—it wasn't coming. Instead, there was an unexpected warmth in her words. He wiped his tear away quickly, feeling foolish.
"Sorry," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You don't need to apologize," Dokkaebi replied, although her expression appears to be a mix of confusion and sadness, "I... I'm starting to wonder if I've become desensitized to all of this. The tragedy, the death... it doesn't hit me the same way anymore."
"If you were desensitized, you wouldn't be here. You wouldn't be helping at all."
Dokkaebi met Dusk's eyes then, her lips curling into a faint smile. It wasn't much, but it was enough.
The sun had just begun to rise, casting a pale light over the shattered landscape. The air was still thick with dust, but the sound of hurried footsteps and shouted commands filled the otherwise quiet morning.
Dusk stood with Naga and Tubarão, flanked by a team of Singaporean and Thai rescue workers. Their task was clear: a young boy, found by Lucy trapped in a collapsed apartment block, alive but wedged between tons of rubble. The challenge, however, was the tunnel leading to him. It was unstable and the clock was ticking.
A Thai rescuer had already crawled into the narrow passage, his body coated in dust, his face grim with focus as he cradled the boy in his arms. The boy was barely old enough to walk on his own, but his wide eyes spoke volumes about the fear he must have felt.
"We don't have much time," one of the Singaporean rescue workers muttered as they adjusted the ropes.
Then it happened. The ground trembled, and a loud cracking sound split the air. A segment of rubble above them began to shift, threatening to crush both the rescuer and the boy. Without hesitation, Tubarão threw a Zoto Canister into the tunnel. The device hissed, releasing freezing gas that temporarily solidified the shifting debris, locking it in place for the moment.
"Now!" Naga shouted, and the team pulled the rope with all their strength.
Seconds dragged on, but just as the rescuer and the boy were nearly clear, the rope snapped with a sharp crack. Both the rescuer and the child fell back toward the unstable tunnel. Dusk's stomach dropped. The Zoto Canister's effects were wearing off, the rubble above them threatening to collapse at any moment.
Dusk didn't hesitate. He dove into the tunnel, ignoring the imminent danger as he reached for the rescuer, pulling the man and the boy toward him. The tunnel groaned louder. With one swift motion, Dusk yanked both the rescuer and the boy clear, just as the rubble above them gave way with a deafening crash. The three of them tumbled out of the tunnel, landing on solid ground. The dust swirled around them like smoke, and the air was thick with tension.
Dusk looked down at the boy, wide-eyed but unhurt, and then at the rescuer, both panting heavily but alive. A wave of relief washed over him—quick, fleeting. Another life saved.
After that close call, rescue operations were suspended around the collapsed area. Specialists were being called in to assess the site for safety before any further work could resume. Dusk sat quietly, leaning against the side of a damaged truck. Lucy, his Belgian Malinois, lay at his feet, alert as always. His goggles were off, resting on his lap, his hands wrapped around the handle of the shovel he had been using for days to dig out both survivors and bodies.
Naga dropped down beside him, handing Dusk a mug of coffee. The older Thai man's face was streaked with dirt, but his smile was easy.
"You must be crazy, Dusk," Naga said with a chuckle, "Pulling that stunt, running into the tunnel like that."
Dusk accepted the coffee, grateful for the warmth but saying nothing. Naga watched him for a moment, then leaned back slightly.
"Ram told me you not sure about your goal in life," Naga said, eyes narrowing as he searched for the right words, "No offense, but I think you are overthinking. Too many 'what ifs'. Not enough 'what now'. You should focus on 'now'. Tomorrow will come, but today is what you control. At least, that what I think, Dusk. In the end, you decide how you want live your life."
Dusk met Naga's gaze for a long moment, considering the words when the Thai rescuer Dusk had saved earlier approached him, giving him a short bow of gratitude.
"Thank you for just now," the rescuer said, his English clear and steady, "I don't think I would've made it without you."
Dusk gave a brief nod, his expression neutral. But his attention was immediately caught by the man's accent—strong Australian with a flawless command of English.
"You sound Australian," Dusk remarked, curious.
The rescuer smiled, pulling off his safety helmet and mask.
"Spent my school years there," he explained, "Lived in Melbourne for a while. Phuwadon Suwannakorn, nice to meet you."
Naga, who had been watching from a distance, stiffened and leaned forward. His eyes narrowed, studying the rescuer's face. After a moment, he looked at Dusk, recognition flashing in his gaze. The rescuer, noticing Naga's reaction, raised an eyebrow, "What's wrong?"
"You look... familiar. Do you have a brother in Arintaraj 26?"
The man nodded, replying, "My younger brother, Chaiwat."
Dusk's eyes widened slightly. The man standing before him is Phaya's older brother. The connection made the moment feel heavier, more personal. Naga looked at Phuwadon, his curiosity piqued.
"You know what your brother's been up to?" he asked, his tone casual but probing.
"Only that he's been sent on a joint assignment overseas. Haven't heard much beyond that," he replied, concern clear in his voice as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair, "But… I'm worried about his attitude. He's always been different, ever since we were young. Chaiwat doesn't trust Singaporeans so I'm hoping none of you are on the same assignment. It's... complicated."
Naga raised an eyebrow. "Complicated how?"
"After my father lost his business to a hostile takeover by a Chinese franchise group, he went off the rails. Instead of blaming the culprits, he blames the Singaporeans who tried to warn and help him, saying they did not do enough. Chaiwat grew up with that bitterness. It made him think that Singapore is a dishonorable enemy of Thailand."
Dusk exchanged a glance with Naga, who was now quietly listening, his thoughts seemingly lost in the weight of Phuwadon's words. Phuwadon seemed to carry the burden of his brother's choices on his shoulders, his gaze hardening as he continued, "I won't lie. I shared Chaiwat's hatred once. I believed the same things—our father's anger, his resentment. But that was before I really understood."
He paused, taking a slow breath.
"It turns out that when my twin sister and I were born, my mother had severe complications. The doctors couldn't do anything. She was about to lose us both. That's when a Singaporean surgeon, a man visiting the hospital, offered his help. He performed a difficult C-section and saved all three of us. And when it was all over, when our mother was safe, the surgeon refused payment. Just said he was happy we made it."
He met Dusk's eyes, his expression tinged with regret.
"It was someone from a country which my father hated the most who gave all of us the chance to survive. But our father never let that go even when he was on his death bed, filling Chaiwat's head with the same bitterness right until his death. The rest of us—my siblings—we eventually understood what our father had done to us, to our view of the world. Only Chaiwat refused to let go of that hatred."
Phuwadon's expression changed from curiosity to concern as Naga leaned in, his voice low, "Chaiwat is causing trouble for my friend here, Khun Phuwadon. He's Singaporean, and your younger brother's been making some unnecessary comments, try get under his skin, but he been holding back."
Phuwadon turned to Dusk, who nodded quietly.
"Actually, Mr Phuwadon, Chaiwat and I are colleagues in the "overseas assignment" he spoke to you about," Dusk added, his voice neutral.
Phuwadon 's face darkened, his eyes flashing with anger.
"ไอ้โง่ที่เอาแต่ตัวเอง! Why didn't you do anything? I would have understood if you punched him in the face."
"I knew about what happened to your older brother Khunpol, Phuwadon. I didn't want to make things worse."
Phuwadon's expression turned stern, and he placed a hand on Dusk's shoulders.
"Khunpol knew what he was doing. He was a police officer who committed serious crimes and paid the price for his actions. ต้องรับผลกรรมของตัวเอง. But you can't let Chaiwat push you around, either. You need to stand up for yourself, Singaporean. แค่ตบเขา."
Dusk's eyes met Phuwadon's, and he nodded in gratitude, his voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you, Mr Phuwadon, for not being like your brother."
Phuwadon nodded, replying, "I will make sure to tell my mother and the others about Chaiwat's behavior. You don't deserve to be treated like this by him just because of your nationality."
The sun climbed higher in the sky, but the work didn't stop. Dusk and Lucy were on patrol, moving swiftly through the wreckage of what had once been a thriving neighborhood. They were flanking Morowa "Clash" Evans and Naga, who were handling the situation with their usual unflinching resolve. A group of looters had tried to take advantage of the chaos, but Dusk's presence, along with Lucy's sharp barks, Naga's fierce voice and Clash's electrified shield, quickly sent them scattering.
"We don't have time for these moppets," Clash muttered, her eyes narrowing as the last of the looters ran off, "Keep an eye on the perimeter. They'll be back."
"You sure? I mean, that shield of yours is pretty scary…"
"Nah, I used to be part of the crowd that throw stones and chairs at the fuzz while waving fuckin' placards that says "Down with Scotland Yard," mate. I know very well how looters operate."
Elsewhere, Lion stood tall in the makeshift hospital, his towering figure enough to silence even the unruliest patients. The rowdy patients who had caused trouble earlier had quickly learned that resistance to Lion's commands was futile. His presence was enough to quell their frantic demands and restore some semblance of order.
In the field hospital, Doc worked with mechanical precision, treating patient after patient, his decisions quick and cold. He moved with the efficiency of a machine, knowing that some would be sent to hospitals, while others were beyond saving. Each choice weighed heavily, but there was no time for hesitation.
Meanwhile, Frost and Castle worked side by side, preparing food for the exhausted team, providing a small respite from the chaos of the day. The camp was quiet for a moment, but it wasn't the kind of peace they all longed for.
By the end of the week, the total casualties from the 2023 Turkey–Syria earthquakes had reached 53,537, with another 107,703 injured. The numbers were staggering, a cold reminder of how dangerous Mother Nature could be, and how little the world could do to stop it.
Hereford Base, England
Several footsteps echoed through the armory as operators moved around looking for their assigned sections, including Dusk. The weight of the past few days still hung on him, but the rhythmic clinking of metal parts was a temporary comfort.
Phaya stood by the weapon racks, inspecting a few pieces of gear with meticulous care. The tension between him and Dusk was palpable, an unspoken understanding of rivalry that ran deeper than either would admit. Dusk didn't acknowledge him immediately, but he knew Phaya had seen him.
"Back from the front lines, Dusk? I heard about the earthquake in Turkey. Quite the deployment, eh? Wolfguard, was it?"
Dusk turned slowly, meeting Phaya's eyes, "Yeah, Wolfguard. We did what we could. It was chaotic, but we saved some lives."
Phaya's lips twitched in a faint smile, though there was a sharp edge to it.
"I'm sure you did. Even more interesting is hearing that Dokkaebi was there too. I didn't know you two were getting this close."
Phaya's voice lowered, a thread of challenge in his words. The question hung in the air, and Dusk felt a flash of offense burn in his chest.
"What's it to you?" he shot back, his tone firm but controlled.
"Oh, I'm just curious. You're always so tight-lipped about your personal life, but I'm starting to think that's just a cover for how boring you really are. I mean, who needs a social life when you've got a job like ours, right? I'm still trying to figure out why Dokkaebi would be interested in someone like you. I mean, you're not exactly the most exciting person in the world, are you? Oh, wait, I forgot. You're a brave, selfless hero who doesn't kill his enemies no matter how evil they are. How could anyone resist that?"
"Don't you get tired of this crap?" Dusk snapped back, but Phaya merely sneered as he retorted, "Oh, come on, Sinkie. Don't be like that. I'm just trying to make conversation."
Dusk sighed, his patience thinning. Phaya's persistent taunts were wearing him down, but he could already feel the familiar anger bubbling beneath the surface. He shifted his stance, his eyes sharp. Based on what he now knows about Phaya, this confrontation requires a new approach, and if Phaya wants to be the "protagonist", then he better not blame Dusk for playing the role of "antagonist."
"You know, Phaya, I've been wondering. What's the real reason you're so desperate to prove yourself superior over me? Is it because you're trying to fill the void left by your father's failures, or is it because you're terrified of being seen as weak?"
Phaya's smirk faltered for a moment, before he regained his composure.
"You think you're some kind of expert on me now?"
"I don't need to be an expert to see the strings that are pulling you around," Dusk said, his words dripping with sarcasm, "You're like a puppet on a leash, dancing to the tune of your late father's hatred. But what happens when the music stops, Phaya? What happens when you're left standing alone, with nothing but your own emptiness to keep you company?"
"You don't know anything about me or my family."
"Oh, I think I do. I think I know that you're a product of your father's toxic behavior, and that you're so desperate to prove yourself that you'll say and do anything to get attention. becoming a carbon copy of your father's worst qualities, and that's not something to be proud of."
Phaya's face twisted with rage, but Dusk pressed on, his words cutting deep.
"You want to know why people like Dokkaebi don't take you seriously? You're a coward hiding behind your father's shadow, and until you find the courage to stand on your own two feet, you'll always be seen as a joke."
"How dare you?"
"I spoke to your elder brother Phuwadon at Turkey, and you know what he said? He said that your entire family's tired of watching you throw your life away on this petty hatred. He said that you're better than this, Phaya, but you're too blind to see it. He even encouraged me to retaliate against you, which I've been trying to avoid for days, but seriously, at this point, I don't care anymore."
Phaya's expression faltered, and for a moment, Dusk saw a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes.
"Phuwadon would never say that," Phaya spat, but his voice was laced with doubt.
"Really?" Dusk said, his voice dripping with skepticism. "Then why did he tell me that he's ashamed of the way you're behaving? Why did he say that he's worried about the kind of person you're becoming? You're so desperate to prove yourself that you're willing to destroy anyone who gets in your way, even yourself. But it's not going to work, Phaya. You need to face the truth, and you need to—"
Phaya's fist flew towards Dusk's jaw, catching the Singaporean operator off-guard. He stumbled back, holding his jaw, his eyes flashing with a mix of surprise and annoyance. Phaya, fueled by a mix of anger and frustration, swung again, but Dusk was ready this time. He countered with a clumsy but effective hook, drawing blood as his fist landed right onto Phaya's mouth.
The two operators stumbled around the armory, inciting yells from the other operators as they exchanged blows in a clumsy and undisciplined brawl. The sound of grunting and crashing echoed through the room as they stumbled into equipment and walls. At one point, Phaya kicked Dusk hard enough that the latter ended up with cut above his right eyebrow, but eventually, Dusk gains the upper hand and leaves Phaya with a bloodied nose via a Glasgow kiss.
Just as it seemed like the brawl was getting out of hand, Montagne, Thatcher, Thermite, Jackal, and Rook intervened, shouting for them to stop. Montagne and Rook grabbed Phaya from behind, pinning him against the wall while Thatcher, Jackal and Thermite pulled Dusk off Phaya, trying their best to restrain him as Dusk and Phaya still had a death-grip on each other's collar.
As the two brawlers were finally separated, Dusk glared at Phaya, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and disappointment.
"You're better than this, Phaya," he said, his voice low and even, "You're tired of lying to yourself, aren't you? Pretending to be something you're not. Think about what you really want to be, Phaya: A protector or a provoker? Because right now, you're just a fucking mess and an embarrassment to the elite Arintaraj 26, let alone the whole of Thailand."
With that, Dusk shook off the other's grip and walked away, Jackal falling into step beside him to make sure he didn't lunge at Phaya again. Phaya, still restrained, watched him go, a seed of doubt planted in his mind. Was Dusk right? Was he just lying to himself? The questions swirled in his head, leaving him feeling unsettled and unsure.