The city burned. Gaza's streets were no longer streets but veins of ash and shattered concrete, bleeding smoke into a bruised sky. The smell of gunpowder and scorched flesh hung like a curse. Civilians crawled for cover beneath collapsing balconies, the sound of distant jets humming above like a promise of more death to come.
On the rooftops, snipers perched like carrion birds. Their scopes glimmered coldly, sweeping across the ruins with mechanical precision. Below, a woman clutched her baby, screaming for help no one could hear. Children froze, too terrified to run.
Lacolone knelt on a cracked ledge, his hands glowing faintly with Whispercall, feeling the vibrations of panic echoing through the city.
"They're targeting everyone," Maya whispered beside him, her voice trembling. "Indiscriminately."
He didn't answer. The truth was clear in the screams below.
Inhumanity wore a uniform. Humanity's cries were dismissed as noise.
---
Then came the sound of orders—short, sharp, and inhuman.
The soldiers opened fire.
The first volley cut through the streets like steel rain. Civilians dropped mid-step, bread and water splattering the ground beside them. Children screamed for mothers who no longer moved.
Lacolone's pulse thundered. He blurred through Driftform, vanishing and reappearing among the fallen, dragging bodies to cover.
"Every second counts," he muttered.
Every life was a target.
Death had become methodical—a bureaucracy of cruelty.
---
Revolutionary trucks burst onto the scene, engines roaring, loaded with food, water, and medical supplies. The moment the back doors opened, desperate hands surged forward. Then—gunfire again.
Civilians crumpled before they even reached the bread.
Maya raised her hand; Veilward shimmered into existence, a dome of red light catching bullets mid-air.
Jessica hurled flashbangs into sniper nests, explosions sparking like stars against the smoke.
Lacolone ripped debris from the street and hurled it upward, blocking firing lines.
Saving a life became an act of war.
---
Through the chaos, a faint voice trembled from beneath the rubble.
"Father… Mother… wait for me…"
Lacolone was there in an instant, dissolving into Driftform, reappearing beside the boy.
The mother's cries came from beneath the debris—her hands reaching but pinned, bleeding.
Maya's barrier flickered as bullets pounded against it. She gritted her teeth, holding the field just long enough for Lacolone to lift the child free.
Every rescue teetered between miracle and tragedy.
---
Snipers laughed from above, their rifles cracking like thunder. Each shot was deliberate, each kill clean. The coldness of it was worse than the sound.
Lacolone's aura erupted—Thunderbrand merging with Riftquake—turning rooftops into chaos.
Maya reinforced her shields, expanding them across intersections, pulling survivors inward.
Jessica fired smoke bombs into choke points, creating confusion and cover.
Still, the precision of evil was terrifying.
It wasn't madness—it was order without empathy.
---
The soldiers advanced through alleys now, grenades rolling like metal seeds of death.
Lacolone teleported across rooftops, dropping between them and the huddled civilians.
Maya struck the ground, sending seismic waves to block their approach. Jessica hurled small charges to scatter the formation.
Each second stretched into eternity.
War was not about victory anymore—it was about delaying annihilation.
---
A child screamed, "Wait for me!"
Lacolone caught him by the hand, whispering, "You'll make it. Keep your eyes on me."
Nearby, Maya knelt, summoning another dome of Veilward to shield a group of trembling children. Jessica passed out chocolate bars, her hands shaking.
Even in the thick of horror, small kindnesses fought to exist.
Hope survived in fragments, like light through bullet holes.
---
Then the city exploded again.
Grenades. Rockets. The sky rained fire.
Lacolone's Thunderbrand surged; lightning split the air as he redirected debris and shockwaves away from civilians. Maya's barrier cracked, bleeding energy. Jessica dragged the wounded toward a shattered building that barely stood.
The city was a nightmare painted in fire and blood.
---
A red glow lit the horizon—Ghali Salah had arrived.
His Veilward expanded, swallowing a street's length in protective light. Soldiers' rounds dissolved against it.
Lacolone and Maya rushed to ferry civilians through its cover, using Driftform and Whispercall to sense danger before it struck.
Jessica's decoy explosions drew snipers' attention away.
Fury and strategy—equal weapons in a hopeless fight.
---
But not all could be saved.
A blast zone erupted near the corner of the street—a child still trapped inside.
"No!" Maya shouted.
Lacolone reached, his energy flaring, but the field buckled under sniper fire. Jessica dove into the explosion's path, hurling herself between the falling debris and the child.
Even heroes bleed for the ones they cannot save.
---
Lacolone screamed, summoning all five Soul-Control Pillars at once.
Thunderbrand. Driftform. Riftquake. Whispercall. Veilward.
The air trembled, alive with impossible energy. Lightning cracked the clouds as the ground split apart, shielding survivors in glowing fractures.
Maya steadied him, reinforcing barriers around the children. Jessica limped beside them, eyes hard, still fighting.
Courage is defiance that refuses to die.
---
The soldiers adapted. Flames roared down alleyways, smoke and chemicals burning eyes and lungs.
Children coughed, gasping for air.
Lacolone's form flickered as he teleported through the haze, dragging people out one by one. Maya projected smaller domes, her energy stretched thin.
Every second felt stolen. Every breath was borrowed.
The cruelty was not random—it was engineered.
---
Trapped civilians cried in an alley. A mother clutched her baby, rocking silently amid gunfire.
Lacolone and Maya fought through the smoke, bleeding and exhausted.
Ghali reinforced his Veilward, the energy dimming but holding. Jessica threw smoke grenades blindly, creating illusions of safety.
They were breaking—but they didn't stop.
The human heart was not designed for surrender.
---
"Come back, Father," a child whispered into the dust.
Lacolone's eyes glowed white-hot, Soul Fusion consuming him.
Maya gathered trembling children, tears mixing with grime. Jessica brushed debris aside, her face streaked with soot.
Every soul mattered. Every death would be remembered.
---
Then came the final stand.
Lacolone unleashed the GoSeBomb Defense—all five Pillars unified into one blinding force.
The shockwave flared, bending space itself. Soldiers stumbled, blinded by light. Ghali's crimson Veilward expanded, wrapping hundreds in its protection.
The city quaked—but lives were saved.
Power alone could not end horror—but it could buy a heartbeat of mercy.
---
When the silence came, it was cruel.
Civilians stumbled through the glowing corridors of protection. Children smiled faintly, chocolate melting in their palms.
Lacolone stood bleeding, barely upright. Maya caught him as he fell.
"Even surviving hurts," she whispered.
Every victory came soaked in grief.
---
Smoke thickened as the soldiers retreated.
The streets were scorched black, echoing with sobs and the hum of broken machinery.
Ghali, Jessica, Maya, and Lacolone stood together—bloodied, silent.
Children clung to their legs, trembling but alive.
The enemy was tireless. But so was the human spirit.
A plume of smoke curled upward, marking the next battle before this one even ended.
---
Later, under a dark sky, the four stood atop the HQ roof. The city smoldered below.
Lacolone's eyes glowed faintly—rage and sorrow intertwined.
Maya's voice broke the silence. "We survived… but at what cost?"
Jessica didn't look away from the ruins. "We keep fighting. For them."
The horizon flared with another explosion, distant but inevitable.
In the world's darkest corners, survival itself became rebellion.
And rebellion—was hope.