Chapter 38 – Silent Thunder and Another Closure

The forest’s edge feels colder than usual.

Leaves crunch softly beneath my boots as I dash through the dim clearing, heart steady, breath controlled.

Soro’s somewhere ahead—already in pursuit.

Then, over the comm:

“Hostile contact imminent. Stay sharp, stay quiet, and let’s hope your training kicks in this time. Over.”

I sigh.

“Whatever…”

I move faster.

Through gaps between tree trunks and the abandoned farm fences, I spot him.

Eldar Samir.

Standing in the open clearing. Calm. Too calm. Waiting.

He's not running… he's baiting.

Something is off.

I crouch low behind a shed, then hear a crackle through my earpiece.

“Clone detected… proceed with caution.”

“Rog…” I whisper back.

I slip into the shadows of the ruins—half-burnt walls, rusted beams, and weeds swallowing the structure whole.

Two armed men patrol the side entrance.

Standard formation. Poor field of vision.

I move in.

Silent.

Crack—

My elbow hits the first man’s jaw, knocking him out clean. The second turns, too late—

Thud!

He’s down.

No blood.

No unnecessary harm.

Pacifist or not, I won’t hesitate to protect the innocent.

Then—gunfire.

A body drops to my right.

“Still sloppy… rookie,” Soro’s voice echoes coldly from a higher ledge.

“Shut up,” I growl, glancing up. “You could’ve let me disarm him—”

“Too slow.”

He reloads casually, not even looking at me.

That kill... still annoys me.

But there's no time to argue.

From the far side of the clearing—

Eldar Samir breaks into a run.

“He’s escaping!” Soro barks.

I don’t even wait.

I launch forward.

The world blurs as I race after him—my footfalls pounding dirt, wind screaming past my ears, tension spiraling tighter with every step.

Eldar is fast—but I’m younger, faster, lighter.

He leaps over a chain-link fence.

I vault it in one motion.

No more running. No more shadows.

We weave through rusted shipping containers, down crumbling stairwells, across forgotten walkways in the heart of the old factory ruins.

Each step takes me closer—

Closer to the man whose ideology that killed Marina.

Closer to stopping this madness from spreading like it did in Arizona.

This ends now.

Eldar Samir stands just ahead—his stance relaxed, one hand tucked into his coat. His aura?

Composed. Deadly.

Like someone who's been in a hundred battles… and walked out of every one.

I have to end this quickly. I can’t let him vanish into the system like the others…

I charge forward—

And that’s when it happens.

He moves.

Fast.

Unnaturally smooth—fluid like water, snapping limbs into precise counters, like something straight out of a Steven Seagal movie.

Just like Boulder—!!

He grabs my forearm, twists, and slams me to the ground.

Wham!

My back hits cold steel. I roll just in time to avoid his stomp, then kick upward and regain my footing.

“You’re good…” I mutter, brushing off the dust.

But I’m not done yet.

I shift my stance.

CQC.

Close Quarters Combat—measured, grounded, efficient.

His strikes come sharp. I parry, redirect, strike low.

He stumbles—just for a second.

I drive my elbow into his ribs, sweep his legs, and slam him into the floor.

Bam!

His body hits the concrete hard.

He groans, dazed. Not unconscious—but out of breath.

That’s my chance.

Over comms, Soro chimes in—always with the same dry tone.

“Still slow… rookie.”

“Tch. Whatever…” I mutter, wiping a bead of sweat off my brow.

I crouch down and secure Eldar's wrists, adjusting my grip to sling him over my shoulder.

He’s heavier than he looks.

Soro steps beside me, eyes scanning the perimeter from the second-floor catwalk.

“You carry the baggage,” he says flatly. “I’ll clear the path.”

“That’s a first,” I reply. “You offering help.”

Suddenly—a flicker of movement.

Across the ruined corridor.

A silhouette in motion.

Her.

The clone…!

Soro’s eyes narrow, and without hesitation—he raises his suppressed rifle.

Bang!

A single precise shot.

The figure jerks—then drops.

He tilts his head slightly and speaks into his comm.

“Target is down. Spectre, proceed toward the objective. Confirm kill. Prep for extraction.”

“Rog,” I hear a reply, tone low from Spectre

Cold as always, huh, Soro…

The night air grows still again. The weight of Eldar on my back feels heavier now—not just his body, but everything he represents.

Is it really over… or just the beginning?

We carry Eldar Samir between us, his hands zip-tied, his smirk unfading.

Even beaten, he still breathes arrogance.

“Wow, Soro! Ang bilis mong lumabas!” he says with a mocking chuckle. “Akala ko forever ka nang nawawala…”

Soro doesn’t even blink.

“Ingat-ingat, kakang,” he replies coolly, voice like gravel. “Di kaw magmahay in pangayuon mu.”

Tausug?

Eldar snorts.

“Oh? Mag-Tausug ka pala. Unu ka pu’un, iban unu ka suku?”

Soro replies flatly, eyes narrowing.

“Aku way labot mu.”

I have nothing to do with you.

The tension between them is sharp—old blood, maybe. Or unfinished wars.

We arrive back at the compound.

It’s changed.

The smoke has cleared, but the aftermath remains.

Bodies covered in tarps.

Officers guiding survivors.

Weapons lined up on the ground, tagged and catalogued.

It’s… heavy.

My jaw tightens as I lower Eldar to the holding bay.

We saved lives. But not all.

Soro turns to me, eyes unreadable beneath his gear.

“Follow me.”

“Rog.”

We step into a quiet operations room—harsh lights, monitors flickering, maps and dossiers pinned to the boards.

Inside, Maruk, Mr. Hakeeb, and a few special ops agents await.

Eldar Samir sits in the center chair like a king on trial.

Maruk folds his arms.

“So this is the infamous Eldar Samir.”

“In the flesh,” Eldar smirks. “And you must be Maruk—the ghost who never left the field.”

Maruk doesn’t smile.

“You’re playing with fire.”

Eldar shrugs.

“My brother’s idiocy lit the match. I just kept the flame burning.”

Mr. Hakeeb steps in, looking at me.

“Son… Sharil, right?”

My shoulders tense.

I nod once.

Tight-lipped.

They don’t need to know everything. Not yet.

Maruk steps forward slowly, his shadow falling across Eldar.

“You were close with them… but now you’re a loose end. Thorny paths lead to blood. You’ve risked everything—for what?”

Eldar doesn’t answer.

Instead, he grins.

“Well, get on with it then.”

Mr. Hakeeb nods to the guards.

“You’ll be in our custody now. Whether you like it or not. Because even they won’t want to protect a liability like you anymore.”

As Eldar’s dragged toward the armored vehicle, he looks at me.

Still grinning.

“You’re good, boy. Eh, Maruk—talento siya sa lahat, ano ba secret mo?”

Maruk doesn’t answer.

Just watches him disappear into the van.

Then, quietly, he turns to me.

His voice softer. Heavy.

“Well… something left undone, huh, son? Arizona... is this your redemption?”

I exhale slowly and nod.

“Yeah.”

Soro leans against the wall, arms crossed.

“There’ll be more Eldar Samirs. Maybe worse. But at least this one—you knew.”

“Yeah…” I reply, eyes dim.

And that’s what makes it hurt more.

Outside, the gear’s returned. I strip the vest, the Glock, the headset—returning everything to the crate.

Back to being just Alex again.

Soro gives me a rare glance.

Then says—

“Hey, rookie…”

I turn.

“Good job.”

…

“...Took you long enough,” I say, trying to smirk—but I feel it.

That faint crack in my chest.

We exchange a nod.

Like shadows, we walk opposite directions.

Like spies in the wind.

The air outside is colder now.

Darkness settles over the hills as I ride back to the farm.

The world’s still turning.

But part of me?

Still stuck in Arizona.

Maybe I’m not chasing ghosts anymore.

Maybe I’m learning to live with them.

The moonlight drapes over the hillside farm as I park my bike beside the porch, the roar of the engine fading into soft crickets and laughter.

Huh? That’s weird…

The house is glowing from inside. Laughter, clapping, even singing?

I open the door cautiously.

BOOM.

A wall of energy hits me like a tsunamic fever dream.

Colorful lights.

Snacks everywhere.

Cups spilling.

Everyone… just vibing.

But the expressions are the real mystery here:

I stand frozen at the door, completely lost.

“What the heck is going on here…?”

Before I can process anything, Mariam launches herself at me and starts smacking my back like it’s a taiko drum.

“WOW!! You are something else, Alex!!” she cackles.

Amin nearly chokes on his drink.

“Bro!!! I never knew you had that kind of taste!!” he wheezes.

“HUH!? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?”

I whirl around, but before I can even catch my breath—Marina’s mom steps in like a final boss holding… a photo album.

Oh no.

Please no… Not the album.

She opens it.

A single photo page.

My soul leaves my body.

No… Not that one…

And there it is.

A picture.

Multiple shots.

Us.

—Shirtless.
—Soaked in tequila.
—On a playground.
—Dancing like idiots.
—Me, Faiz… and Natalie…

Natalie with a riding crop.
Marina with a broom.
Us—half-conscious.
In public.

“D-D-Don’t tell me—” I stammer.

Marina’s mom smiles innocently. “Having a naked party in public, huh~?”

“WHAAAAAAAAAAT!?!?!?!?”

My scream echoes into the night.

I snatch the album, flipping frantically.

“W-Wait! This was…! It’s not what it looks like!!”

Sylvia suddenly storms up, fists clenched.

“Darling!!! This is not what I had expected!?!” she huffs, fire practically behind her eyes.

“NO! It’s not like that! We were DRUGGED—I mean, given tequila—Xavier said it was WATER!!”

Mariam throws in a classic jab.

“Tequila?! You? Alcohol? HAHAHAHAAHA!”

Amin dies laughing again.

“BRO I”M CRYING RIGHT NOW CAN”T WAIT TO SHARE THIS!”

“Hey!!! Don’t you dare!!!”

“AND WHY IS NATALIE HOLDING A WHIP?!” Sylvia screams again.

“SHE WAS TRYING TO HELP US!!” I yell.

Mom sighs dramatically. “My son’s a delinquent and a nudist. Wonderful…”

Even Steward jots it down:

“Alex: suspicious history involving nudity, alcohol, and weaponized brooms.”

I bury my face in my hands.

Just kill me now…

Priscilla finally speaks.

"Fair dinkum, you've had a wild childhood, haven't you? Bit of a rollercoaster, eh?" she says dryly, peeking over her teacup.

Tama walks in from the hallway, glancing at the chaos. “So Alex…is a man at an early age?” That is not the point!!

I want to vanish.

But then, out of the corner of my eye—I see Sylvia is realising an intidimating aura just like Natalie trying to punish me.

“Hey!! That was a long time ago!!.”

She glares at me, arms crossed. “Next time you’re half-naked in public, I better be there too.”

“W-What—!? What are you talking about!?”

She turns away, cheeks glowing.

Priscilla said to me

"Blimey, if you're planning another kneesup like that, don't forget to invite me, yeah?

I'd love to join in on the craic!”

“Hey that is not the point!!!”

The laughter fades.

The photos are tucked away.

The teasing slowly dies off as the others drift to bed, one by one—leaving only silence, the kind that seeps into your bones when the adrenaline fades.

I step outside.

The mountain breeze brushes against my cheeks, sharp and cold, but grounding.

The stars above are distant. Untouched.

Far removed from the blood we just spilled… and the ones we failed to save.

I sit at the edge of the porch, my fingers still trembling from hours ago.

The sound of gunfire still rings in my ears.

The look on the children’s faces when we led them out.

The face of Eldar Samir.

And the name that keeps echoing inside my head.

Marina.

Dumb Marina…

I let out a shaky sigh, pulling out something small from my inner jacket.

A photo that I take from Marina’s room…

A memory….

Marina, Faiz, me, and Nat—back when we thought life was going to be boring.

Back before things turned into gunfire and ghosts.

Back before she…

"At least you're at peace now..."

I clutch the photo tighter.

My voice barely a whisper.

“I hope... this helps you find peace… even if I couldn’t make it in time.”

I close my eyes.

The scent of ash still lingers on my clothes.

The weight from my shoulder, but the weight on my chest… hasn’t left.

If this is redemption… it’s not enough.

But it’s a start.

As the night grows deeper, the stars glimmer like quiet witnesses.

And in that silence—I make a quiet promise.

Next time, I won’t be too late.

I won’t lose anyone else…

Before returning to the farm, I take a detour.

The path is quiet.

The breeze carries the scent of pine and distant flowers. The sky above is awash in twilight orange, like the world itself is exhaling after everything.

My boots crunch softly against the gravel as I approach a small hill, the place where they laid them to rest.

Marina.
Faiz.

Their names are etched into the headstones—simple, clean. No grand memorial. Just peace.

I kneel down between them.

The wildflowers I picked tremble slightly in my hand.

“I told you I’d visit when this is over…”

I lay the flowers down gently, and with it, something else.

Something old, but precious.

A scarf.

Faded with time, frayed at the ends.

Marina’s scarf. The one she gave me that day when she..tied with me and Nat…

I press it against her grave.

“Here… You kept me together with Nat when I needed it most… now let it keep you together with Faiz forever.”

My voice cracks near the end.

But I smile.

Behind me, soft footsteps.

Sylvia.

She doesn’t say anything at first.

Just kneels beside me and places her hand over mine.

“Hey…” she says softly. “You okay?”

I nod slowly.

“Yeah… I’m good.”

No more running.

No more regrets.

Just this moment.

Sylvia tugs my sleeve gently, her voice like a whisper in the wind.

“Let’s go home.”

I glance at her.

She’s smiling, the kind of smile that says I’ve been waiting for you to come back.

I nod again.

“Yeah… let’s go home.”

We turn.

We begin to walk back, side by side.

But just before we leave the hill—

I hear something.

A whisper.

So soft.

So achingly familiar.

“See ya… love.”

I freeze.

Eyes wide.

Then… I see them.

Two children.

A boy and a girl.

Wearing white.

Walking past us… translucent, like a dream.

The boy with messy hair like Faiz, mischief in his smile.

The girl with Marina’s eyes—calm, radiant.

They wave at me.

“Bye-bye, Alex!”

I stare.

Then slowly, I lift my hand…

And wave back.

You finally found your peace, huh?

As the breeze picks up and the sun slips behind the mountains, I take Sylvia’s hand.

It’s over.

The book for this part of my life… is finally closed.