The fog swallowed everything, but Emma's senses were razor-sharp.
Every sound—the crack of a twig, the hum of a distant engine—was a warning.
She dragged Liam to the side of the bridge, pressing him against the cold metal railing.
His blood seeped through her fingers.
"We need to move—now!" she hissed.
Liam groaned but didn't argue.
Through the mist, the Syndicate soldiers advanced in perfect formation.
Nine of them. Armed. Trained. Deadly.
Emma's heart pounded—but panic didn't touch her.
Not yet.
---
••• First Strike
Emma threw a knife before the soldiers even realized they were close.
It embedded itself in the neck of the nearest attacker.
Two more fell as she flipped behind the railing, kicking and slashing with a precision only years on the streets could teach.
Liam gritted his teeth, trying to steady himself.
"You're… amazing," he whispered through pain.
"I have to be," Emma replied.
"You can't die on me."
---
••• A Narrow Escape
The first wave cleared, but more were coming.
Emma scanned the fog—trees on either side, water below.
She spotted an escape path along a narrow walkway of the bridge's understructure.
She whispered, "Follow me. Keep low."
Liam tried to stand, winced.
"I can't—"
"Then I carry you."
She hoisted him effortlessly onto her back.
"Hold on!"
Gunfire erupted again. Bullets zipped past, pinging off metal.
Emma sprinted, leaping from one section of the bridge to the next, knives cutting down anyone who dared to follow.
The wind tore at her hair. Fog stung her eyes.
But she didn't falter.
---
••• Betrayal in the Mist
A voice sliced through the chaos.
"End of the line, Hellsing."
Emma froze mid-step.
Raven.
The Syndicate sniper—once thought retreating—stood perched on a broken beam above.
Scope aimed at Liam.
Emma's blood ran cold.
"You'll have to get through me first."
Raven smirked.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
---
••• A Deadly Dance
Emma threw a knife. Raven ducked, firing his own gun in response.
Emma rolled behind a beam, cutting down another Syndicate soldier on the bridge.
Raven leapt down, landing in a crouch.
Emma tightened her grip on Liam.
"You want him? Come get him."
Raven grinned.
"Always business first."
The two clashed—a whirlwind of knives and bullets.
Every strike from Emma was met with gunfire, every dodge calculated.
The bridge creaked under the weight, threatening to collapse into the raging river below.
---
••• Liam's Choice
Liam coughed, blood streaking his face.
"Emma… I can fight. Let me help."
"No!" she yelled. "You're weak right now. You'll get killed."
He looked at her, eyes burning.
"I'm still your brother. I can't just—"
"Then trust me," Emma said, voice firm.
"Let me do this."
---
••• Turning the Tide
Emma feinted left, then right.
A bullet whizzed past her ear.
Raven lunged, knives drawn.
Emma caught his wrist mid-strike, twisting sharply—
Raven fell to his knees, disarmed.
Emma didn't hesitate.
She grabbed a fallen rifle, pointed it at the remaining Syndicate soldiers.
"Run. Now!"
Liam clung to her back, coughing but moving.
Together, they sprinted off the bridge, disappearing into the misty forest as the Syndicate regrouped in frustration.
---
••• Aftermath
They collapsed behind a thick grove of trees, hearts hammering, bodies trembling.
Emma checked Liam's shoulder—the wound deep but survivable.
"You're alive," she said, voice softening.
"For now."
Liam looked at her, eyes full of conflicted emotions: love, guilt, fear, admiration.
"You… saved me."
Emma shook her head.
"You're my brother. That's non-negotiable."
From the shadows, Victor Kane's laughter echoed faintly through the fog.
Emma froze.
"Victor's still out there," she whispered.
"And this war… it's only getting started."
---