Borderline

The forest was eerily quiet after the firefight, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves in the wind. Victor lay still on the cold ground, his breaths shallow and labored. Blood pooled beneath him, soaking into the earth. Axon knelt beside him, hands trembling as she pressed against the wound. Her face was streaked with dirt and tears, her voice breaking as she pleaded with him.

“Stay with me, Victor!” she cried, her tone frantic, each word a desperate plea. “We’re almost there! You’re not leaving us now, you hear me?”

Victor’s eyes fluttered open, just enough to meet hers. “Axon…” he murmured, his voice weak, barely audible. “The mission…”

“Don’t talk,” she said sharply, her hands moving with precision as she tried to stem the bleeding. “Save your strength. We’ll get you out of here.”

Panzer and Karl stood nearby, their weapons at the ready, scanning the surrounding trees for any sign of another attack. Spectral knelt a few feet away, furiously typing into his portable interface, trying to reroute patrol drones and give them a clear path to safety.

Panzer glanced over his shoulder, his face grim. “Axon…”

“Don’t,” she snapped, not looking up. “Don’t you dare say it. He’s not gone. He’s not going anywhere!”

Her voice broke on the last word, but her hands kept moving, refusing to acknowledge the truth that was dawning on everyone else. The wound was too severe. Victor had lost too much blood. There was nothing more they could do.

Panzer exchanged a look with Karl, both men silently acknowledging the reality of the situation. Spectral paused his work for a moment, his shoulders sagging as he let out a shaky breath. But Axon… Axon refused to give up.

“Come on, Victor,” she muttered, her voice trembling. “You’ve been through worse. You’re the strongest person I know. You can’t… you can’t just…”

Victor’s hand moved weakly, brushing against hers. “Axon,” he said again, his voice so faint it was almost lost in the wind. “It’s okay.”

“No,” she said fiercely, shaking her head. “No, it’s not okay! You don’t get to say that! You don’t get to leave us! We need you! I need you!”

Victor’s lips curved into a faint smile, his eyes softening. “You’ll be fine… you always…” His voice trailed off as his body went still.

“No!” Axon screamed, shaking him. “No, no, no! Don’t you dare do this to me! Don’t you dare!”

Her cries echoed through the forest, raw and unrestrained. Karl knelt beside her, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Axon,” he said gently, his voice thick with emotion. “He’s gone.”

“Shut up!” she snapped, shrugging off his hand. “He’s not gone! He’s not!”

But as the moments stretched on and Victor’s body remained lifeless, the truth became undeniable. Axon’s hands stilled, and she let out a choked sob, collapsing over him. Panzer turned away, his fists clenched at his sides, while Spectral lowered his head, his shoulders shaking.

Finally, Spectral forced himself to move. He activated his communicator, his voice trembling as he spoke. “Base,” he said, pausing to steady himself. “This is Spectral. Victor is… Victor is gone.”

Back at the base, 1MIN stared at the communicator, the words echoing in his mind. “Victor is gone.” It didn’t make sense. Victor didn’t just die. He was unstoppable, invincible. He was the heart of Twilight, the reason they all kept going. The idea that he could be… gone… was unthinkable.

“Say that again,” 1MIN demanded, his voice sharp, almost frantic. “What do you mean, Victor is gone? He’s not... he can’t be dead.”

“I’m sorry,” Spectral said, his voice heavy with grief. “He was hit during the ambush. We couldn’t save him.”

“Hit?” 1MIN repeated, his tone disbelieving. “By what? How could he… How does Victor die from a gunshot wound? He’s better than that! You’re telling me he just… died?”

Spectral was silent, unable to answer. The truth was, none of them had noticed Victor’s wound during the chaos of the fight. By the time they realized, it had been too late. But how could he explain that to 1MIN?

“I don’t know,” Spectral admitted, his voice low.

1MIN’s grip on the communicator tightened until his knuckles turned white. His mind raced, emotions spiraling out of control. Anger, grief, guilt they all warred within him, threatening to consume him.

*This is my fault.* The thought hit him like a sledgehammer, and his knees threatened to give out. He had tipped off the border patrol, convinced that Victor could handle anything. Victor had always been invincible, until he wasn’t. *I killed him,* 1MIN thought, the weight of it pressing down on him like a vice. *I made this happen.*

But the guilt twisted, morphing into something more insidious. Another thought began to take shape, one that made his stomach churn. *No, that’s not it. Victor could handle anything, unless… unless he was already weighed down. Twilight. They held him back.*

1MIN’s breathing quickened. *Victor was unstoppable, until he had to carry their mistakes, their failures. They weren’t good enough for him. They let him down. They must have.*

The anger flared, sharp and blinding. *No. No, that’s not all. This wasn’t just their incompetence. This was deliberate. A betrayal.*

His fists clenched as the idea solidified in his mind. *Twilight wanted him gone. They betrayed him, weakened him, left him vulnerable.* The thought was a wildfire, consuming his grief and replacing it with fury.

The base was silent as 1MIN entered the main hall, his expression grim and his posture rigid. Night operatives filled the room, their conversations dying down as they noticed his presence. He climbed onto a makeshift platform, his voice cutting through the tension as he addressed the crowd.

“Victor is dead,” he announced, his tone heavy with sorrow and barely contained rage. Gasps and murmurs spread through the crowd, but he raised a hand to silence them.

“He didn’t die in vain,” 1MIN continued, his voice steady but cold. “But he didn’t die from an accident or bad luck. He was betrayed.”

A wave of murmurs rippled through the crowd, their unease turning to suspicion. Someone in the back called out, “By who? Who would betray Victor?”

1MIN paused, his jaw tightening as if the question physically pained him. “By the people closest to him,” he said, his voice low but sharp. “Twilight.”

Confusion spread through the room like wildfire. Another voice spoke up, louder this time. “You’re the leader of Twilight! Are you saying you betrayed him?”

“No!” 1MIN shouted, his voice cutting through the rising chaos. “No. I would never betray Victor. He was everything to me. Everything to all of us. I trusted him with my life, and he trusted me. But not everyone in Twilight held him in the same regard. There were those who doubted him, who questioned his decisions. Those who… who wanted him out of the way.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in. 1MIN’s eyes burned with intensity as he scanned the crowd. “Do you think Victor would fall to a simple ambush? No. They made sure he was weakened. They sabotaged him, knowing he’d go into that mission at a disadvantage. They gave him no choice but to rely on their failures.”

“Do you have proof?” someone asked cautiously.

“I don’t need proof,” 1MIN shot back, his voice trembling with conviction. “I knew Victor better than anyone. I saw how he carried Twilight, how their incompetence dragged him down. And now, he’s gone because of it.”

A murmur of agreement began to rise, fueled by 1MIN’s unwavering confidence. “They think we don’t know,” 1MIN continued, his voice growing colder. “They think they can walk in here, pretending to mourn him, pretending to be on our side. But we’ll show them. When they arrive, we’ll show them what happens to traitors.”

The room erupted into a chorus of agreement, the operatives rallying behind 1MIN’s words. The grief and confusion of Victor’s death had transformed into a shared purpose: vengeance. And at the center of it all stood 1MIN, his heart burning with a singular, unrelenting resolve.