In the headquarters cafeteria, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted warmly through the air. Arman, Mahendra, Arga, Fikri, and Reza sat around a round table, each with a steaming cup in hand. The tension of training and mission preparations had been weighing heavily on their shoulders, but now they took a break.

  “Whoever loses this time pays for all the coffee, okay?” Mahendra joked with a wink, his hands playing with the mini game cards on the table.

  Arman glared at me, but half-smiled. "If I lose, don't expect me to just pay for the coffee. I'll put up an extra bet; this game has to be serious," he said, formulating a small strategy in his mind.

  Fikri chuckled, “Hah, so serious. Relax, this is just for peace of mind.”

  Arga, who was sitting next to him, shrugged, “Relax? You’ll definitely win, Arman. I already know your tricks.”

  Reza leaned forward, his eyes shining brightly, “Then, get ready to pay for all your coffee later.”

  The game began, cards were thrown, strategies were executed, and laughter erupted. Mahendra choked on his coffee after failing to read Reza's move, while Arman barely held back laughter at Fikri's defeat yet again.

  "This is just a momentary calm, but I like it," Arman muttered to himself, looking at his friends. Amidst the laughter and jokes, the tension slowly melted. They knew the real storm would soon return, but for now, they were simply enjoying this small moment together.

  On the other side of the border, a light rain was falling in the late afternoon. Drug lord Dimitri Volkov's headquarters was bustling with armed guards, but that mattered little to the Obsidian Legion. From a distance, Magnus and Seraphin led the assault, while Valen sat in a dark room filled with monitors, his eyes fixed coldly on the screens, every movement of the troops in the headquarters perfectly recorded.

  “These children will be our future weapons,” Magnus said in a deep voice, his hands commanding the merciless elite team. “Leave no one behind who can stand against us.”

  Seraphin looked away , his eyes blazing, “The girls must also be secured. They will be sold to power-hungry officials. The punishment is clear: submit or perish.”

  Inside the base, the Obsidian troops moved like shadows. One by one, the guards were shot, thrown to the ground, or tied up, while screams and cries could barely be heard amidst the chaos. The few children who dared to resist were immediately subdued, and Valen's eyes held a cold satisfaction as everything went according to plan.

  Meanwhile, Orion moved alone to the central building. The entrance was smashed open with a powerful kick, shattering wood and metal. The startled guards immediately attacked, but Orion was too fast—blow after blow, brutal kick after kick, sending them down one by one.

  Dimitri Volkov, a notorious dealer, appeared on the 7th floor, attempting to escape. Orion quickly pursued him, kicking him to the ground, and then kicking him out the window. Dimitri's body plummeted downwards, while the pouring rain obscured the blood that had been splattered on the street below.

  Valen, watching all this through the monitor, smiled with satisfaction and patted the table. "That's the right way to deal with an enemy," he muttered. "Their crimes have been met with retribution."

  Orion re-entered the building, his steps steady, his face cold, and his hands still covered in blood. Any guards who tried to resist were immediately dispatched, mercilessly. The building had become a brutal slaughterhouse, yet every movement felt neat and coordinated—a true testament to the skill of the Obsidian Legion's leaders.

  Outside, Magnus and Seraphin were organizing the remaining troops to move the children and the captured girl, while Valen continued to stare at the monitor, smiling smugly, noting every detail. “Everything went perfectly. No one will escape today,” he whispered calmly.

  After the drug lord's headquarters was completely destroyed and the guards were down, Orion stared at the container truck now filled with the children and girls they had kidnapped. Their terrified bodies were wrapped in thin sheets and closely guarded by elite troops, while the sound of rain still dampened the courtyard.

  Orion turned to Magnus and Seraphin, his face flat but firm. "We're not wasting any time. Everyone we've secured must be brought to the van immediately," he said firmly.

  In the waiting van, Valen was already seated in front of his monitor and sophisticated equipment. With a thin, cold smile, he handed Orion a thick file. “This,” Valen said, pointing to the document, “is the country we want to enter. They’ve already prepared the payment, and we’re due to arrive by 5 a.m. All transactions and information are recorded here.”

  Orion opened the file, his eyes burning as he saw the figure written on the first page: 100 million USD. Without thinking, he ordered, “Prepare the troops. We’re leaving now. Our time is limited, and they’re waiting for the results.”

  Magnus, sitting beside Orion, patted him on the shoulder in satisfaction. "Our efforts have finally paid off. 100 million… that's more than enough to cover our entire operation."

  Seraphin smiled coldly as he looked at Valen. "Amazing. They're paying a lot for our expertise. This is the right business," he said, looking at the men ready in the van.

  Valen remained calm, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. “All routes have been mapped. Air and land routes are monitored. Nothing can interfere with us. We will meet our targets on time.”

  Orion looked at his squad, his deep voice echoing through the van. “We move like shadows. Silent, fast, and precise. Anyone who gets in our way… they won’t survive.”

  The van slowly pulled away from the base, its brake lights flashing in the cold night rain. Magnus and Seraphin smiled smugly, imagining the vast profits and power they had attained. Orion stared ahead with cold eyes, planning each step. Valen remained focused on the monitor, ensuring perfect coordination.

  Outside, the night was still dark, and the world seemed like a stage ready for the Obsidian Legion to conquer. The sound of the van's engine roared through the deserted streets, marking the beginning of their brutal and ruthless journey to their next target.

  After they finished the mini-game, the scoreboard showed a tie. Arman looked at his team, holding back laughter. "Wow, looks like we're all evenly matched," he said, leaning forward.

  Arga patted Arman's shoulder and said, "Well, Arman is the leader, he should be the one paying for all this."

  Arman looked at Arga with a sly smile. "In my opinion... there's no such thing as a leader here. Everyone is equal. In fact, for me, the true leader is Fikri."

  Fikri, sitting in the front seat, stared at them with his eyes half-suppressed with laughter. "What's wrong with you all? So I'm the one paying?"

  “Yes, Fikri. You’re our leader today,” Arman replied casually, pushing his head off the table.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  Arga, Reza, and Mahendra laughed along. Reza chimed in, “Hahaha, okay… then everything’s safe, Fikri will pay.”

  Fikri took a deep breath, smiled faintly, and took out his wallet. "Okay, but no more comments, okay?"

  Arman patted Fikri on the shoulder. "Don't worry. You're a true leader, Fikri. We're just loyal followers willing to bear the consequences of this game," he said jokingly. Everyone chuckled, and a warm atmosphere filled the cafeteria.

  Night fell. After packing up all their equipment, they parted ways to return home. Only Arman and Mahendra remained together, as they had to meet their friends who were busy at the state palace.

  As he walked towards the car, Mahendra grumbled softly, “I don’t think my legs are strong enough to get in the car by myself. Please….”

  Arman turned his head to the side, holding back laughter. “What? Your legs hurt? Don’t tell me you’re just lazy about driving, Ndra.”

  Mahendra pretended to be serious, "Hey... don't underestimate this. This leg needs extra attention. Otherwise, it could collapse in the middle of the road."

  Arman laughed out loud, "Okay, but if it collapses, don't complain. I don't want to be your backup driver."

  Mahendra replied, raising his hand, “Don’t worry, I promise. But if I don’t make it, it means the world has been too cruel to us.”

  They got into the car, Arman started the engine, and the headlights lit up the night road. As they drove toward the state palace, the two of them continued joking about the mini-game, occasionally chuckling, but underneath, they both realized the importance of the mission and the responsibility that awaited them.

  Outside, the streets were deserted, but the two friends walked together, enjoying a bit of calm before the storm of a new mission came their way.

  Arriving at the courtyard of the state palace, Arman and Mahendra paused for a moment behind several vigilant guards. They noticed Van, who had just emerged from the meeting room, standing near the President. They realized that none of the guards would let them get close—and indeed, it was inappropriate to disturb them. So they decided to wait a moment.

  A few minutes later, the meeting was over. Van was about to head to his office when he suddenly turned around. The sound of familiar footsteps made him stop. His gaze caught two familiar figures—Arman and Mahendra.

  "Hey, you guys are here?" Van smiled, joking a little. "There's no military invitation on my schedule or file. Why are you all here all of a sudden?"

  Mahendra stepped forward with a polite bow, a faint smile on his face. "Forgive us, Mr. Prime Minister. If we're being presumptuous, but we didn't come because of an invitation. We came… because someone who goes hungry for the sake of street children still deserves attention," he said, holding back a laugh.

  Van chuckled, then opened his arms and hugged his two friends. "Are you all well? I haven't heard from you since I sent you a message 15 years ago . I hope you're both still praying," he said in a warm, concerned tone.

  Arman returned the hug with a smile. "Thank God, you're healthy, sir. How are the people?"

  Van patted Arman on the shoulder. “Thank goodness. You guys came just in time. That's what I wanted to talk about.” He pulled his two friends into the palace.

  Inside, they walked through grand hallways. Van began to recount recent events in the country, while Arman and Mahendra listened intently. But in between conversations, they shared laughs about old memories—long nights at the training base, secret strategies that were nearly discovered, and simple dinners they shared in the city as young men.

  “Do you remember that night we had to sneak into the government building with only a flashlight?” Van chimed in with a mischievous smile.

  Arman chuckled. “Of course I remember. And you, Mahendra, almost got caught because you sprained your ankle on the stairs.”

  Mahendra retorted, feigning offense, “It’s all part of our strategic plan! I’m just adding a dramatic element.”

  Van laughed again, “Well, drama is your trademark. But I’m glad to see you’re still loyal, even though our paths are different.”

  Arman looked at Van with respect and warmth. “We always remember our promise, Van. To protect the people, even though our missions are on different paths. And today, we come not to give orders, but to ensure everyone is safe.”

  Van nodded slowly, then patted his two friends on the shoulders. "Okay. Come to my office; I have something important to discuss with you."

  As they walked towards Van's meeting room, the three friends smiled, letting the nostalgia of their past and the tension of the current mission combine—strengthening a bond that had endured for years.

  Upon entering his spacious office, Van immediately picked up the phone. "Please bring dinner to my office. Include hot coffee and Arman and Mahendra's favorite cigarettes. Make sure everything is neat and ready on the sofa," Van said, staring at the phone screen.

  The staff member quickly replied, “Yes, Mr. Van. I’ll arrange everything right away.”

  Van hung up the phone and turned to his two friends. "I'm sure you didn't get to enjoy such delicious food back at base. So, consider this a little treat for you," he said with a faint smile.

  Soon, they were all sitting on the sofa. Arman struck up a conversation while sipping his warm coffee. "Van, how's Hana? Is she still busy in Japan?"

  Van smiled softly. “Yes, she’s still there, and she’s even more beautiful. God willing, I’ll propose to her this year.” He glanced at Arman and Mahendra. “What about you two? Don’t you have any plans to get married? Are you so in love with your country that you forget there are beautiful girls out there who might be as crazy about the officers as you are?”

  Arman and Mahendra laughed at Van's joke. The warm atmosphere instantly dissipated the tension of the mission and the rigorous routine they were undergoing.

  Suddenly, there was a gentle knock on the door. "Please come in," Van invited.

  A staff member and a waiter entered, carrying a tray with dinner, hot coffee, and some cigarettes. "Mr. Van, here's your order as instructed," the staff member said, placing everything on a small table near the sofa.

  Van looked at the two of them and said with a smile, “Although smoking is prohibited in this room, you two are an exception. Please enjoy.”

  Arman picked up his coffee cup and smiled faintly, while Mahendra turned his head as he opened a cigarette pack. They enjoyed the small moment, as if the world outside had stopped for a moment.

  As the staff and waiter prepared to leave the room, Van admonished them gently but firmly, “Close all my agendas. I don’t want to be disturbed. Make sure no one comes in until I’m finished speaking with these two friends.”

  The staff member nodded respectfully. “Yes, Mr. Van. I'll make sure everything is securely closed right away.”

  Van turned to Arman and Mahendra with a faint smile. “Now, let’s enjoy some coffee, cigarettes, and a little peace before the next storm comes. And as for Hana, she’s staying the course in Japan, but she always makes me proud. You should see her, Arman—she’s truly inspiring.”

  Arman smiled faintly, looking at his friend. "I agree, Van. This also brings back old memories. And who knows, these memories might become the energy to face whatever comes next."

  Mahendra added while taking a drag of his cigarette, “And don’t worry, Van, we’ll keep ourselves—and the people—safe while we enjoy this coffee.”

  Van smiled warmly, looking at his two friends, as if he knew that even though the world kept moving, it was this friendship and simple moments that kept them human.

  While eating dinner, Arman looked at Van seriously. "Van, what was the meeting like with the President? Were there any important developments?"

  Van put down his spoon for a moment, staring out the window, the city lights glinting in his eyes. “It’s just the tension that’s been haunting this country for so long, Arman,” he replied quietly but firmly. “In recent decades, corruption has become increasingly rampant. Every aid intended for the people, supposed to reach them, always disappears. Many illegal mines are being built without permits, destroying the environment, deforestation without control, and floods and disease outbreaks are starting to affect people in various regions.”

  Arman nodded, holding back both surprise and concern. “And the government can’t handle it?”

  Van took a deep breath. "No, some of the aid seemed to have been swallowed up by the storm. We managed to catch some corruptors, but they were just pawns on a much larger scale. The real masterminds are the leaders of major parties, who are still safe behind complex legal frameworks. There's not enough evidence to convict them, even though we know they're behind all this."

  Mahendra took a sip of his coffee, his eyes shining with concern. “So this is more than just ordinary corruption. They control the system from above, as if the people are mere pawns in their game.”

  Van nodded slowly, looking at his two friends with trust. “That’s right. And now that you’ve come, Arman, Mahendra… I need your help. The President entrusted this mission directly to me. I will go into the field myself to ensure aid reaches the people, but I can’t do it alone. You must be ready to support me. This isn’t about power, but about justice for the people who have long been neglected.”

  Arman straightened his body, looking at Van with a resolute gaze. “We’re ready, Van. Whatever needs to be done, we’ll be by your side.”

  Van smiled faintly, but his eyes conveyed tension and immense responsibility. “Good. We must act quickly, coordinated, and precisely. Our time is limited, and our enemies… they are not only hidden, but also possess power and influence that are difficult to reach.”

  Mahendra added, patting Arman on the shoulder, "Then this isn't just an ordinary mission. This is a mission for the country, for the people. We cannot fail."

  Van looked at his two friends, his eyes glistening slightly, a mixture of determination and gratitude. “I believe in you, just as I believe in the children we protect, in the people waiting for help. Together, we can ignite hope, even as the storm continues to rage.”

  The room was silent for a moment, except for the clattering of spoons and glasses. But amidst the silence, there was a burning sense of determination—they knew that tonight was just the beginning of a much larger battle, not just against evil, but against a corrupt system and traitors to the people.

  Sipping his warm coffee, Arman looked at Mahendra seriously. "Mndra, how's our mission going? Do we have enough time to help the people this week?"

  Mahendra lowered his head, his eyes scanning the small tablet screen displaying maps and intelligence data. “According to my analysis, this mission could normally last two weeks, or even one to three months, depending on the situation on the ground. But Arman… we don’t have much time. Our friends there, the people… they need us this week. We can’t wait.”

  Arman nodded slowly, confirming his resolve. "Okay. We'll schedule it as soon as possible. Van, do we need any additional help for this operation?"

  Van stared at the two of them, his face serious but calm. “Before I answer, what exactly are you talking about as a mission?”

  Arman and Mahendra looked at each other for a moment, then answered simultaneously. “Obsidian, Van. Their headquarters, their network, everything is connected.”

  Van took a deep breath, his face turning serious, but his eyes met Arman's with trust. "I don't know much about them. But what I want is clear—whatever you do, don't forget your prayers, and come home safely."

  Arman replied firmly, “Relax, Van. That’s our top priority too. But regarding additional assistance… we need more manpower for this operation. Could you help prepare candidates?”

  Van leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Mahendra. “Who are you talking about?”

  Mahendra answered briefly, "Just one base for now. You'll get to know them later."

  Van smiled faintly and nodded. “Okay. Then, I’ll meet you here tomorrow night at eight. Make sure you’re ready.”

  Arman and Mahendra nodded simultaneously, their voices full of determination. "Ready, Van."

  Van stared at them for a moment, then added in a low but firm voice, “Remember, this isn’t just a mission. It’s about the people who are counting on us. Don’t betray their trust.”

  Arman stared at Van with a sharp gaze, his voice filled with determination. “No, Van. We’ll make sure everything goes according to plan. The people will be safe, and we’ll return home safely.”

  Mahendra patted Arman's shoulder lightly, adding half-jokingly, "And if anyone dares to disturb us, they will know that our shadows are not just legends."

  Van smiled faintly, raising his coffee cup. “Good… that’s what I wanted to hear. See you tomorrow night.”