The battle raged on, each passing moment pushing the elite warriors and the pro warriors to their limits. The second wave of aliens, more formidable than the first, continued to press on. The air was thick with the scent of smoke and the sound of desperate cries as both warriors and civilians alike fought to hold onto hope.
Back at the academy, the news was broadcasting live updates of the battle in Mandaue. The footage, though blurry and chaotic, was enough to show the devastation that had unfolded. Civilians across the city watched with tears in their eyes as the brave warriors fought against the alien invaders. The elderly, parents, and even children huddled together in living rooms, praying for their loved ones and the students who were fighting on the front lines.
A mother clutched her child, her voice trembling as she whispered, "Please be safe, please come back." Across town, a father wiped his tears, hands clasped in prayer as he begged for his son's safety. On social media, messages of encouragement flooded in, but the fear was palpable. People prayed for a miracle, for some hope to break through the despair.
But that hope was growing thin on the battlefield.
Amid the chaos, Selene, a stern and experienced pro warrior, had been fighting alongside the students, but her patience was quickly wearing out. Her sharp eyes scanned the area, seeing the students making reckless moves. She spotted one of the students, a young boy, struggling to maintain his footing as an alien towered over him. She darted over to him, blocking the attack with her shield.
"What do you think you're doing?" she barked, pulling the boy to his feet. "You're not trained for this! Get back!"
"But—" the boy started to protest, his face pale with fear.
"No excuses!" Selene snapped, grabbing him by the shoulder and pushing him toward the others. "The pro warriors will clear a way for you. You need to go back to the academy, now!"
Nearby, another group of students had their weapons drawn, still fighting fiercely, but their energy was clearly fading. Selene walked over to them, her expression hard. "This isn't a game," she said, her voice filled with frustration. "You're not soldiers, you're not ready for this. The pro warriors will make a path for you to retreat. Go now, before it's too late."
Ronald, still in the thick of the battle, shouted at the students as well. "Selene's right! We can't keep this up forever. We're making a way for you to get back to safety!"
But the students, driven by a sense of duty, shook their heads. "We can't leave! We're not running away," one student, a girl with a defiant gaze, shouted, stepping forward.
"That's right!" another added, his voice steady. "We can fight. We can help you!"
Selene's expression darkened as she approached them, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You're not heroes. You're students. The pro warriors will handle this. We need you safe back at the academy. That's an order."
The girl pulled away from Selene's grip. "I'm not going back. We'll keep fighting until the end. If we leave now, what was all this for?"
Selene's eyes softened for a moment, but only a moment. She understood their bravery, their desire to protect their friends and their city. But this was no longer about pride or courage—it was about survival.
"You don't get it," she said quietly, her voice low and firm. "We've been fighting for hours, and we're running on fumes. If you stay, you'll just be putting yourselves in more danger. This is bigger than you, and you need to trust us."
But the students remained resolute, unwilling to back down. "We won't leave," the girl said, her voice steady. "We'll find another way. We'll help."
Ronald stepped up, his face filled with a mix of anger and concern. "Listen to me!" he shouted, but his voice was nearly drowned out by the roar of an approaching alien horde. He clenched his fists. "You need to leave now, or there won't be any academy left to protect! Go!"
Still, the students refused, and the tension only mounted as the battle grew fiercer. The pro warriors fought valiantly to defend the students and each other, but even they knew that the odds were beginning to slip away. With every strike, every blast, every dodge, they felt themselves weakening.